Chapter 2

Bella's POV:

Awake in confusion, I searched my surroundings. Bewilderment wired my senses. I was in a child's room. An austere room with walls and floors made of wood and stone. What caused my thunderstruck mind set? Was it something I dreamt? Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I could feel warmth lingering in my chest.

Why do I never remember my dreams? I wanted to remember. The mixed feelings of warmth, companionship, and bewilderment wouldn't leave me. Dreams don't usually stick to me like this…

"You're awake!" Jacob smiled as he barged through the door.

Jacob paused in mid step as he studies my face. "Why do you look so confused? You fell asleep before dinner… Remember?"

I snapped out of it. "Yes! I'm sorry, I was trying to remember my dream."

He smiled in relief. "I take it you slept well. Was it a good dream?"

I scrunched my face in concentration. "I… can't remember, maybe?"

He laughed. "That's okay. You must be hungry, so comedown and say hello to my mother, she missed you."

I stood to follow him downstairs, but he waved a finger at me. I looked up at him questioningly.

He pointed to a stack of clothes at the foot of Rebecca's bed. "Change. Courtesy of my mom."

My eyes widened. "She doesn't have to! I can wash what I am wearing…"

He snorted rudely. "Those rags?" He eyed me once more. "You'll be doing us a favor not wearing those to dinner."

I could feel the flush creeping into the cheeks. Watching me blush, Jacob burst into laughter. I couldn't help but blush deeper. I stood there for a moment, watching his untidy, mid-length black hair fall across his face as he laughed. I waited for him to stop laughing. When he didn't, I punched him in the shoulder.

"Enough okay?! Thank you for the clothes!" I spat, my face still a deep red.

"Ow." He blinked. "The extra labor has done you some good, I actually felt that one."

"Out!" I glared at him.

"I'll leave." He said before disappearing through the door.

I sighed. Why were people always so generous for my sake? Running a finger across the cheaply woven cotton made my eyes sting. The Blacks have been there for me for my entire life. Especially Jacob, my kind, sincere, and loving best friend. It hurt to know that they have always given to me, yet I have never had enough to give back. It's the type of relationship that ends up in entanglement, from one side remaining selfish, and the other benevolent…

Despite my own worry, I was going to try my very best. One day I was going to give back to those whom been there for me… The Blacks, my father, and even my runaway mother.

Putting my subservience aside, I slipped the clothes on without another thought.

Looking at my old clothing on the floor, I laughed at myself. Jacob was right. I was in rags. Signs of wear and tear were evident.

Downstairs, Jocob's mother greeted me with a smile on her face. "It's nice to see you dear!" The bronze colored woman cooed. "I heard about our Charlie! How unfortunate! Is he okay alone at the farm?" Her face pursed into a sincerely concerned expression.

"I assume so… He has been able to move around and cook. He just has to refrain from straining himself further." I gave her a reassuring smile. "Mike, the blacksmith's son, has been really helpful, he has taken charge while I deliver the harvest."

Ms. Black's face relaxed, but the worry lines on her forehead remained. "I didn't know the Newton's had a son! I'm glad Charlie has some help around the farm, I hope his handicap hasn't been too strenuous on you." Her face observed my pale figure, and her look of worry returned.

"It hasn't been more than I can handle!" I lied, showing her my best smile. "I've been doing well on my part."

Jacob sighed. When I looked toward his direction, he raised an eyebrow in silent accusation.

I glared at him when his mother turned her attention to her baking bread.

"Well honey, you must be starving!" She hurried to a towel to grab the bread with. "Please take a seat! The nutmeg bread is done!"

I salivated as the aroma of the freshly baked bread wafted through the room. A few seconds later, a pair of small feet echoed down the hall, and burst into the kitchen.

"Jaaaycob!" She squealed. "You have a somebody waiting for you at the shop!" The little Rebecca then switched her attention to the freshly baked bread.

Jacob sighed, taking a piece of bread with him as he stood. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared down the hall.

I hardly noticed. I could focus on nothing but the way the hot bread melted on my tongue. The sugar was perfect! Not too sweet, but not too bitter… It was perfect. Food from the gods. If Jacob didn't come back soon, there would be no food left.

When Jacob retuned a few minutes later, he sat at the table and began to eat. He ate hastily, his brow was furrowed in concentration. His mother and Rebecca exchanged weary glances.

"Who was that?" I asked when nobody said anything.

He put his spoon down, "One of the doctor's son's, the family that just moved here. They wanted to know if we could expedite their order. They want their order tonight, not tomorrow."

Jacob's mother seemed unconcerned. "Aren't you already done with their order, dear?"

"Yes, but… they ordered twelve wall hangings, it would take at least three or four trips to get them all there. And we can't risk being on the road after dark—" He glanced out the window, taking note of the nearly setting sun, "I won't make it."

Jacob's mom frowned, nodding in agreement. "You're right, the bandits will start to roam soon, and we can't risk it."

"We haven't had an order this profitable, ever. I have to try." Jacob protested, standing to dash toward to door.

"No!" His mom hissed. "It's too dangerous!"

I stood dutifully, "I'll help him, Ms. Black, Firerain can carry twice as much as Old Foyir can."

She frowned. Jacob looked hopeful.

"But Firerain is exhausted…" She argued.

"He's fine, he's been on harder trips before."

I was already following Jacob out the door. His mom said something else, but I was too far from the kitchen to hear.

"Thanks Bells! You don't have to—"

"Oh, shut it and hurry up." I interrupted him.

He laughed his throaty laugh. I've missed the sound of his laugh. It was the familiar husky laugh of my best friend. It reminded me of a simpler time, of childhood and recklessness.

I stopped several feet away from his wood working shop. He swung the large wooden door open, revealing his sanctuary. The inside was strewn with an assortment of woodworking tools, wooden planks, logs, trunks, and half-finished furniture. I stared in amazement at some of his half-finished work. I approached the inside of his shop, reaching forward to touch the piece of art. There was a chair arm, not yet connected to the rest of chair. It started with a row of graceful spirals that intertwined up the long body. It was polished with a deep mahogany finish. It reminded me of the way waves arced into the sky before plunging down into the sea… if the sea were made of mahogany.

"Hey," he called from across the shop "Here they are."

I blinked. When did he get all the way over there? He hauled two large paper-wrapped packages and huffed back out to where Old Foyir's wagon was.

"Ten more to go." He raised his eyebrow, "What are you waiting for?"

I dashed across the shop to help him load the wagons.

We ended with six wall hangings in Firerain's wagon, and four in Old Foyir's.

Jacob grinned. "This is great, I think we can make it in one trip."

I eyed the overloaded carts doubtfully. "I don't think we can fit any more. I don't know if Old Foyir can even carry that much weight." I pointed towards Old Foyir's unsteady posture. The poor old gray mule should of retired years ago.

"He'll be fine," He brushed off, "And I was planning on carrying them myself."

I grimaced at him. "They're heavy."

He made an effort to look offended. "I carried them here, didn't I?"

"That was twenty feet. The doctor's house is miles away."

"Only two."

"Maybe Firerain can carry them." I walked over to his wagon, pondering the possibility of rearranging the already stuffed cart, but decided against it. There was no more room.

We set off into the late afternoon, leading old Foyir and Firerain through the dirt path.

"You look nice." He told me as we passed an overhead of looming oak trees.

"Thanks." I muttered.

A moment of silence passed between us, filled with the quiet trots of our mules' hooves.

"Would you like me to come down? To help out while Charlie is injured?" He asked sheepishly.

I whipped back towards him. The idea was preposterous. His mother and little sister needed him, there was no way they could manage without him, especially since Billy's death.

"No, no." I waved his offer away casually. "I'm perfectly able to manage." I assured him.

I observed him, intrigued by his strange behavior. On a walk like this, even with the pressing time limit, we would normally be talking and laughing, but he did not seem to be in that mood. He seemed deep in thought, looking down at his feet while we walked.

The trees overhead cleared, the sun's glow was now orange as it began to set. We were running out of time. Not only would it be dark soon, but Foyir's pants were growing louder, and was beginning to sound like heaves.

"I don't know if he'll last any longer." I told Jacob, eyeing his shaking legs with pity. "That last hill took a lot from him."

"Almost there." He said.

After several minutes of climbing a steep hill, a great white mansion came into view, quite suddenly. I gasped in shock. It was the most magnificent thing I've ever seen, and mostly likely the best house Oakland has ever held. The white stone glowed ominously in the dim red light of the setting sun. Red rose bushes and neatly trimmed hedges opened into a lustrous garden, which then led to white stone steps.

Jacob stared too, seeming at loss for words. Our dirty mules, shabby clothes, and rickety wooden carts seemed much too inadequate to approach this place.

Foyir's wheezes of exhaustion brought Jacob and I back to reality.

"Darn. It's dark." He wiped his sweating brow. "C'mon."

Leaving our mules and cargo a safe distance from the pristine garden, Jacob and I sauntered to the ornate wooden front door. When Jacob lifted a fist to knock, his fingers lingered over the intricate carvings that adorned the shining wood, no doubt appreciating the foreign woodwork. Almost reluctant, Jacob knocked loudly. Once. Twice. On the third knock, a man with golden hair answered with a smile. My jaws dropped. A man, possibly the most beautiful man I'd ever seen had answered. His blinding white smile, warm amber eyes, and stunning good looks momentarily stunned Jacob and I.

"Welcome, thank you for bringing our order there on such short notice." He beamed in a warm, honey-like voice. "My name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

We stared, still stunned.

His perfect gold brows furrowed in concern, probably contemplating our sanity. "Would you like assistance in bringing the hangings?"

This seemed to snap Jacob back to reality. "No— thank you sir— I'll bring them in right now."

Shaking my head to clear the frozen brain cells, I followed Jacob back to the wagons to help him bring in their merchandise. Lugging the first few in our arms, we entered the brightly lit room, made even brighter by the white carpets and furniture. I desperately hoped that after the long journey, that my feet weren't too dirty. I tilted my head to check, but my full arms made it impossible to see my feet. Leaving dirty footprints would look badly on Jacobs's business.

The soft-spoken man led us through the first room, to another, which seemed like a second, even larger living room. This room had an antique and foreign feel. I felt the old wooden arm chairs and couches would be greatly complimented by Jacob's work. He instructed us to mount them side-by-side on top of an elegant fireplace. I agreed that they would look quite stunning there.

Jacob did the mounting. My hands were shaking from nerves. I was not used to being is such as pristine space. I was paranoid about touching anything that could be smudged or broken. I darted back and forth, fetching each hanging, until the whole dozen were in the living room.

"Oh my!" Exclaimed another soft voice. "That is very beautiful."

Standing at the mouth of the room, was a very beautiful woman, with silky brown hair, and a heart shaped face. Beside her was another impossibly beautiful woman, possibly the most beautiful woman on this earth, with her long golden locks of wavy hair, long legs, and frilly pink dress. Any woman, including me, could not exist before these two women and not feel a strong pang of envy.

Jacob eyes widened and he gaped. He fumbled nervously with the wall hanging he was mounting, desperately trying to save it before it fell. Luckily, he was able to steady it in its position, and mount it just like the rest.

"Thank you." He stammered, his facing turning a bright beat red, even through his russet brown skin.

When Jacob finished mounting the last one, the two women stood around it. The older one with the heart shaped face murmured in approval, while the other simply stared, as if she could not care less.

"This is exactly what we were looking for." She smiled at him. "Thank you so much for your hard work." Her face fell into a heart breaking expression, "And I'm so sorry about the change in delivery dates, I am so very glad that you could make it tonight. It must have been much trouble."

"No, not at all!" He stammered in a voice several pitches higher than normal. His face was still red from being in the presence of two unusually beautiful women.

"And thank you too, dear." She turned to me.

I blushed.

"Thank you for your business ma'am." Jacob bowed. "We should get going." He peered nervously at the dark night beyond the window.

"Oh heavens." The brown haired women exclaimed. "It's so late. Would you like to stay the night? We have a few guest rooms available."

"That's alright ma'am." His blush grew deeper. "We have our mules as well."

"It's no trouble at all. We have hay and water out back, they can take refuge here too." She insisted.

"We don't want to intrude, but thank you for your offer." He bowed lower.

"Nonsense." Her voice was more insistent now. "I don't think these areas are safe at night. And there trail is so bumpy. I would feel so much better if you stayed until dawn." Her round amber eyes conveyed sincerity.

Breaking under the force of her plea, Jacob looked towards me for assistance.

"Your mother would be sick with worry if you didn't return tonight." I told him.

"That's right." His face hardened. "She may go looking for me." He shuddered at the thought.

The woman frowned, and opened her mouth to protest once more, but Jacob's voice suddenly jumped in.

"But you can stay here Bella." He said with a glint of determination in his eyes.

I glared at him, angry by the sudden betrayal. "No way." I told him.

"Yes, think about it, Bella. You're the one in the most danger, being a woman in all." He said. "If you stayed here with the mules, I could run home undetected. I know a shortcut through the woods, but can't take Firetrain or Foyir through it."

"Absolutely not." I hissed.

I looked back at the pair of beautiful women, not wanting to fight with Jacob in front of them. The dark haired one looked at us thoughtfully, while the other stared dejectedly out the window, obviously wishing she could leave.

"Yes you will. I'll be fine, I'm faster than the bandits, and I know the forest better."

I opened my mouth to remind him that I got all the way to town by myself, and was perfectly capable of getting myself home, and that his father Billy was not a woman and had been succumbed to bandits, but thought better of it and closed my mouth. I did not need to bring Jacob's dead father into this in front of other people.

As if reading my mind, Jacob spoke, "And my father was old and still could've fought them off if not for the heart attack."

I stood there, defeated. My mind raced through the possibilities. Yes, Jacob had a good chance getting home without the burden of the mules slowing him down, but I did not want to think of everything that could go wrong.

"So it's settled." The dark haired woman took my arm, but looked at Jacob. "If I can't convince you to stay, could I at least offer you in water or mead before your journey back? We have soup and bread as well, which you are very welcome to."

"No, but thank you," he blushed again, "I should get going."

He bowed again, gave me a reassuring smile, and strode out of the room.

My heart pounding fast with worry, I made an attempt to follow him, but the cold arm around mine held me in place.

"It's alright, dear." She said soothingly. "I'll have one of my sons feed and water your mules."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she began to lead me away, through a hallway, and up elegantly railed stairs.

I tried to think of a polite way to refuse, not wanting to upset this beautiful, kind, and very rich woman, but at the same time, I was so mesmerized by the decorations, I could not speak. Never in my life have I seen artwork this grand. The wall of bedroom doors held paintings of such dizzying detail. Paintings of beautiful people and breathtaking sceneries gave this place the air of a museum for rare and grand artifacts. Pristinely carved tables held colorful vases of flowers, orchids, oleanders, and bright peonies.

"Here we are dear." She led me though the door. "You may stay in this room. There is a bathroom right over there—" She pointed to a door inside the room, "Feel free to clean up. I will bring you something to drink and eat, you look parched."

"Um." I stammered.

She paused and gave me a kind look.

"Thank you." I stuttered nervously, admitting defeat. There was no way to get out of this now. "What is your name?"

She smiled and looked embarrassed. "Oh of course, I'm so sorry. I'm Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen's wife."

The she strode away, closing the door behind her.

Once the door closed, I looked around the heavily ornate room. The satin bed covers looked most inviting, but I felt too dirty to be worthy of them. I padded into the bathroom and observed my appearance. The clothes Jacob's mother had given me were much better than the rags I went to the Centre Court with, but now seemed like rags in my luxurious settings.

I felt guilty leaving dirty footprints as I entered the shower, but the guilt was long forgotten when the hot water soothed my skin. I picked up each of the colorful bottles on the shelf, sniffing them and wondering which to use. Finally deciding on a cream colored soap that smelled like peaches, I lathered it all over my body, relishing on this luxury that I would likely never see again.

Once out of the shower, another stab of guilt hit my chest when I saw I tray of steaming food and fresh stack of clothes waiting for me. The Cullen family was much too kind, reminding me of a rich version of the Blacks.

I slipped into the cotton pajamas provided for me and walked over to the tray of food. The first waft of the steaming stew was absolutely mouthwatering. There was something familiar about it, a smell that reminded me of home—

Artichokes. This was Artichoke stew.

I cringed away from it and debated. If I left this here, it would surely hurt Esme's feelings. But the idea of eating my least favorite vegetable made me queasy.

A knock entered broke my internal debate.

"C-Come in." I said nervously.

I gasped in shock when I saw her. I expected to see Esme, not this beautiful and tiny girl with short cropped black hair and stunningly bright blue eyes. She smiled at me, almost triumph. She was no longer wearing the blue silk dress, but a black night gown that reminded me that she was not in fact, a child. The thin straps exposed the smooth white skin of her shoulder and collar bone. The lace top of the gown left some cleavage to for the eye to notice. It hugged her curves gently, in a very complementing fashion.

I stood agape, frozen by surprise and by the force of her beauty. It must be a crime for someone to be that attractive, it should not be possible.

Taking in my open jaw and furious blush, her grin widened. She skipped into the room.

"I saw you from upstairs, when you and your friend were putting up the hangings, and I could not believe it!" She sang. "I was very excited, but I didn't want to scare you two, it seemed like a delicate procedure. But now that you're here." She smiled widely at me. "I'm so very pleased to see you again."

"Oh." Was the best I could manage. My mind was still reassembling from the initial shock of seeing her again. As much as I wished, I never thought I would see her again, let alone end up in her home.

She frowned. "Are you not happy?"

"No! I am." I quickly defended. "I'm just surprised to see you here, of all places. Quite the coincidence."

"Yes I know!" She beamed. "I was surprised too. But I'm so glad!"

She twirled around the room.

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself.

She stopped and glanced back at me, confusion in her blue eyes.

"Why are you glad to see me?" I asked her again, with more confidence. "I got the impression you were upset with my treatment of Firerain."

"Well…" Her smile returned. "I guess I overreacted. And you treated me kindly."

I didn't remember being exceptionally nice to her. I tried to give her a bag of artichokes for free, but she ended up over paying for them anyways.

"We just moved here." She continued. "And I don't have friends yet."

Her perfect face pulled down into a frown so devastating, I reach out a hand to comfort her. I placed a hand on her bare, warm shoulder, but withdrew it as soon as I realized what I'd done. She looked disappointed, whether because I pulled away or because I had touched her in the first place, I didn't know.

"Can we stay up and talk?" She asked, with the pouty expression. "Just a little bit."

"O-of course." I stammered.

She beamed, and took my hand, leading me to the bed. The moment her hand touched mine, a bolt of heat soared from my hand, through my entire body. I almost tripped over my feet on the way to the bed.

We sat crossed legged, facing each other. I tried my very best not to look down, because the way she sat made her night gown raise higher up her legs, exposing the smooth white skin of her upper thigh.

I forced myself look at my surroundings, instead of her dazzling blue eyes, knowing the affect it would have on me.

"Are you feeling well?" She asked me.

"Yes." I assured quickly.

Noting that my behavior must seem weird to her, I took a deep breath and looked in her direction. She looked at me with curiosity.

"How about we start off with your name?" I said jokingly, but my voice was shaking.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Of course! How could I forget? I'm Alice! Alice Cullen, the second youngest daughter of the doctor. And you are?"

"Isabella Swan. But you can call me Bella."

"Bella." She murmured to herself.

A strange pleasure crept through me when she murmured my name that way. It almost sounded… affectionate.

"You're a farmer?" She asked.

"Yup. Artichokes." I said, feeling a sad to realize how that pretty much summarized my entire life. I wasn't very interesting at all. "What about you?"

"I paint for fun." She said, a tinge of pink rushing to her cheeks. "And I'm still in school."

"That's really incredible!" I said, with real enthusiasm, now suddenly interested in seeing everything she's created. "Where's your artwork?"

Her blush deepened. The color made her even more beautiful. "Most of it is in my room. Mom insists on decorating the house with them, but that's too embarrassing."

"Think you could show me something?"

Her blush deepened even further, the rose color reaching her neck. "Um." She said quietly. For the first time since I'd met her, she seemed too embarrassed to talk.

Realizing, that I may be asking something personal of her, I quickly reassured her. "Never mind. If you're not comfortable yet, maybe sometime else?"

"Yeah." She agreed.

She leaned in closer, setting my already fast heartbeat into a frantic hammering. She was so very beautiful, and it was hard to see her so close, and not reach out to touch her smooth ivory skin.

"Do you come here often?" She asked.

"Erm…" I pondered. "Occasionally, for supplies and to sell a harvest."

She continued to ask me about every detail of my mundane life. Where I went to school before I was forced to drop out, what kind of clothes I normally wore, what I did when I was not tending to Charlie's livestock. I couldn't imagine how this could be even remotely interesting to a girl as sophisticated as Alice, but she continued to watch me with intense interest, her blue eyes fixed on my brown ones. Her eyes would widen in particular parts of my story, like when I told her what a pain artichokes were to harvest, how they cut through your gloves when they were wretched from the earth. She was particularly interested in my story of how I raised Firerain from a foul, how'd he'd been my best friend since I wasn't particularly good as getting along with other people.

After another lengthy tale, my face red from the realization that I was talking too much, I tried to turn direction of the conversation around.

"Please tell me about your life, I'm sure yours is much more intriguing."

She shook her head, "Not at all, quite the opposite actually."

I frowned in disbelief. She was holding out on me. I opened my mouth to protest, but she spoke first.

"It's getting late, perhaps I can tell you all about it another day."

A wave of disappointment hit me. The idea of having to wait to talk to her until another distant and uncertain date made my heart constrict tightly in my chest. No. I wanted to talk to her forever, to never stop seeing those stunning blue eyes.

"Next time you're in town, we must spend time together!" She beamed excitedly at the prospect, but my expression did not mirror hers.

"Would your parents rather you have… erm… more sophisticated friends?" My face was beat red. "I doubt they'd allow a farmer's daughter to spend time here."

A flush of color entered Alice's face, and her smile turned into a hard line.

"They would be fine with whatever makes me happy." She stood up now, pacing towards the door.

I reached out into the open air, regretting to have upset her. "I didn't mean—"

She turned then, pausing at the door with a fierce expression. "Good night." She said, and then was gone, closing the door behind her.

I stared at the place where she had stood, cursing at myself for being so stupid. I should've kept my mouth shut. She must hate me now, taking offence in assuming her parents would judge me for what my father did for a living. Though I was still surprised, it had seemed so obvious that her kind and mine were not supposed to be friends. We each lived in an entirely different worlds. I was a commoner, and she was the daughter of a rich doctor, our paths were not meant to entwine.

As I lay there, I realized something even more frightening than the idea of being her friend. I wanted so badly to touch her ivory skin, to run my hand over her perfectly sculpted collar bone, the soft curves of her waist. The memory of her soft pink lips made a foreign heat shoot down my spine.

And it was with those images in my mind that I felt the drowsiness consume me. I was still exhausted, even with the midday nap.

I dreamed of her touch, warm and silky against my skin. Her hand started at my shoulder, trailed down my arm, and then rested on my waist. I could swear I felt her sweet warm breath against my ear. But something was different. The warmth seemed too real. When the soft lips pressed against my ear, a sudden pang of arousal hit me. Dreams could not have that effect, could they? The warm breath trickled down my neck, soft lips pressing lightly against the nape of my neck. I could feel my body shudder in the distance, as if from a faraway place. I had to be dreaming. Nowhere in reality could feel this good.