Come With Me Now

"Help!"

Edward's heart thundered in his throat as he watched the Trackers ride off. If not for Hell's Bells constant moanin', he would'a stayed stuck there forever.

He rounded back to where he'd stashed her, gratified to see she was still kickin'. Not literally, thank the stars, but she had enough spirit in her to spit his way as he leaned down to help her up. She was heavy as a sack of potatoes and just as useless.

"Yer more trouble than yer worth, Miss Swan. I should'a just left ya for yer fiancé or the birds to find," Edward grunted as he tried to grip her gentle and walk her to his home.

It was hard when she was spillin' blood everywhere. It was hard when he had no mount and she fought him every step of the way. Hard when she tried to butt his head with her own and bite his ear like she was a wild colt. Not even feral creatures were so hateful.

Didn't matter who found her first. All that mattered was that, in this perfect scenario, he was blood-free and guiltless. Instead, he was stuck liftin' the poorest excuse of a lady up the stairs of his false family home while she tried not to give up the ghost.

"Then why bother?" she asked, too tired to be mean 'bout it.

"Still tryin'a figure that out."

He pushed the door open, the hinges screamin' as he walked inside. Emmett and Jasper still hadn't fixed it.

Oh, but everyone was here and present: Emmett with his feet on the kitchen table and Jasper with his hat slung slow cross his brow as he dozed in the evenin' sun. Of course they were. When there was real work to be done, none of their lazy backsides could be spotted within a mile of town, but now that there was a bleedin' woman on Edward's arm they'd all arrived to see the show.

"Carlisle!" he called into the house, knowing the man was somewhere around. "I need yer help!"

To drive the nail into the coffin, Rosalie dropped the pie she'd pulled out the oven and screamed.

The man in question popped out his workshop. He had an apron on smeared dark with God-knows-what and a pair of glasses slid down his nose. In this getup he looked downright respectable. Like he really was the town doctor and not a sham.

"What in God's name - "

He cut himself off at the sight of blood. It didn't matter who was hurt. It didn't matter that he must'a known by the look'a her who he was dealin' with. Another man took over then, the bandit's expression shuttin' off and the war doctor comin' out.

"Place her in the back room now," Carlisle snapped, rollin' up his shirt sleeves. "Rosalie! Fetch me some linens! Jasper! Go pump some water!"

Everyone moved like a military regiment. No one asked questions. They just did.

Esme rushed to Edward's side and helped him carry Bella to the table. Carlisle swept his arm over the surface, shoving used scrap and papers to the floor. He didn't care. All that mattered was the woman bleeding out on his table.

"Emmett! Where's that whiskey boy!"

"Here, Pa," Emmett replied, passing over the amber bottle.

Carlisle flung the cap off and poured the liquid over Bella's wound. She thrashed like a snake, spitting and cursing up a storm. Alice even blushed at some of the words.

Good girls shouldn't know words like that. But Bella Swan wasn't a good girl. She was a vigilante.

"Jasper, hold her legs. Emmett, you take her arms." The boys did as they were told, Carlisle taking his time peeling back her ruined vest. "Esme, help me with this."

Carlisle cut and picked away at the cloth, handin' each bit over to Esme until there was a nice hole where Bella's clothes used to be. It was not proper to see a woman's bare stomach, but needs must and there was too much blood in the way to get a good look.

The bullet wound was puckered and angry. It gushed every time Bella moved, welling deeper red round the center and running down her side and her back until it puddled at the floor. Carlisle doused it with another round of alcohol, and this time she cried.

"A flesh wound," Carlisle said, shovin' bit of scrap leather in her mouth. "Here, bite down on this. Gotta fish the bullet out."

Bella did as she was told and bit down hard.

That did nothin' for the pain, tho. And damn it must'a hurt from the way she was cryin' and twistin' to get away. Thank God Jasper and Emmett were strong enough to keep her mostly still. Edward likened her to a deer on the tanner's table. Except the deer were dead when they were liberated of their skin, and Miss Swan was well and alive.

Carlisle got a hold of the bullet and pulled it out. When he held it to the sun, it shone silver and bright.

Bella's eyes rolled up in the back of her head at the sight, her body limp as a rag doll.

"Is she...?"

"It's the shock," Carlisle explained, droppin' the bullet in the bin. He poured more whiskey over the wound while she was out, then reached for some bandages. "She'll wake in a moment."

On cue, Bella opened her eyes. She looked lost and confused for a moment, then regained her usual fire. She tried to sit up immediately before bein' shoved back down by three sets of strong hands.

"I need to wrap your wound or it'll never heal."

Carlisle showed her the roll of bandages and Bella allowed him to patch her up, wincing as he moved her. Carlisle was not a gentle man, but he did his best God bless him. He had a healer's touch, but his patience only wore so thin, and Edward could see that temper risin' quick.

The front door opened again, then slammed shut with a ear-piercin' shriek.

"Edward, I found Delilah half way to the canyon," Alice said, her voice echoin' along with her boots. She clopped closer, bout to turn into the surgery. "Ya gotta be more responsible with - " Alice stopped, her eyes goin' wide. "What in God's name is goin' on here!"

"Hush Alice!" Carlisle commanded, his gaze never leavin' Bella. "Victoria claims you stole somethin' from 'em. Something important."

The command to explain was subtext.

Bella narrowed her eyes, sizin' Carlisle up. Reckon she thought he wasn't trustworthy, but he had just saved her life. She owed him. She owed all of 'em.

"A couple years ago, these Trackers came through town. Their leader, James, he took a likin' to me. Too much of a likin'. He took…liberties. So I took his life." She said it so blunt, so casual. Like taking another man's life meant nothin to her. Her eyes were cold as stone. She turned up her nose and looked away. "Took his horse too for good measure."

"Damn it," Alice cursed. "I knew I recognized that horse."

The Trackers all rode on black stallions. Forces to be reckoned with riding on the backs of Death itself, and Bella Swan had gone and stolen Death from under their feet.

Made sense now why Victoria and Laurent were so mad. They wanted revenge for their fallen leader. And Victoria's lover, if her rage were to be believed. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, or so the sayin' went.

Carlisle was damn near frothin' at the mouth. He picked up one of Bella's pistols and leveled it right between her eyes.

"Why shouldn't we just kill ya right here 'n now?"

She didn't even flinch. "Ya don't think people would notice if I was shot dead in cold blood?"

"We could blame it on the bandits."

"Victoria uses a long range rifle and Laurent uses his hands. The Sheriff is a smart man. He would notice if his daughter was shot point blank with his own pistol."

Carlisle cursed another blue streak and threw the pistol down. He paced a mo', his hands shoved in his hair like a wild man. Didn't matter none that they were covered in blood and he was stainin' his hair red. Didn't matter that there was an audience to his madness, scarin' Alice and Edward both if he were honest.

Then, Carlisle snapped his fingers at the girls.

"Rosalie! Get Miss Swan a dress."

"But - "

"Did I ask for yer opinion?" he snapped again, cuttin' her a nasty glare. "Go and get that dress, or I'll have yer rations for a week."

Rosalie stomped off, her footsteps echoin' loud cross the house. Dust shook from the floorboards wherever she stepped above. They could all her her cursing just as colorfully as Bella had been. Some lady she claimed to be.

"Get her our of my house," Carlisle hissed to Edward, wipin' his bloodied hands off on a wet rag. "I ain't want none of this comin' back on us, ya hear? We got enough problems without her in the mix."

"It was yer idea to come back to this God forsaken town!" Edward fought back. He was the planner for a reason. When the rest of 'em took things into their own hands, the train went off the rails. "If y'all had listened to me - "

"It's bad enough we got fooled by Hell's Bells, now we gotta patch her up too? And with the Trackers on her ass at that?

"It's the right thing to do."

"To Hell with what's right! I only care about keepin' this family alive, and she is not part of this family."

Rosalie returned with a dress in hand. It was hardly one of her favorites: a brown frock with mud stains up the back from their last ride through the mountains. Nothin' suited for a lady of Miss Swan's standing, but it would have to do. She couldn't leave with blood on her chaps and a hole where her blouse used to be.

"Here," she snapped, throwin' the dress by Bella's feet. "Anythin' else you need, Pa?"

Rosalie only called him that when she was cross, and she was cross enough now that Edward could see steam pourin' from her ears.

"Go with Alice to ready a horse. Miss Swan will be leavin' us shortly."

Alice took Rosalie's hand and steered her outside before more heated words could be exchanged. Rosalie didn't particularly like the horses, but it was smart to get her out the house. She was mighty competitive when it came to other women. Even though the attention on Bella wasn't positive, that didn't matter none. Rosalie's jealousy wasn't rational in the slightest.

Edward wanted to point out it wasn't smart to have a gravely injured lady on a horse so soon. She could pull her stitches or get thrown or worse. It made more sense to keep her here under their roof until Carlisle was sure she wouldn't bleed out the moment she took a step.

Then again, Edward didn't know why he was so worried bout her health all the sudden. This woman had caused him nothin' but heartache and pain. She'd embarrassed him, out-shot him, and riled him up every chance she got. He'd lost sleep over her, gotten his ass beat cause of her. He shouldn't care in the slightest if she died of infection or internal bleedin'.

But there he was, helpin' her up off the table oh so careful. Like she was a china doll keen on breakin'. She didn't like it none, used to roughhousin' and tumblin' with the worst. Likely no one had shown her softness in her short years, no mother at home to sing her to bed nor tend to her bruises.

Just like Edward. Except Edward had Esme now, and as overbearin' as she could be at playin' their momma, she was a damn close call to the real deal.

Who did Bella have? No one.

Outside, Edward helped her onto Delilah's back. The old girl must not've recognized Bella as the one who'd spooked her just a few hours before because she was calm and placid as a summer's breeze. She let Bella hang onto her neck, takin' her weight with ease. There was no saddle, but they wouldn't be goin' far.

"Where d'ya wanna go? Home?" Edward asked from the ground, his hands guidin' the reins.

"No. Not there," she said in an instant, shakin' her head somethin' fierce. "Take me to Jacob's house."