CHAPTER THREE

Sleep abandoned me after my moment of dreadful clarity. I've lain awake for hours going over and over what happened at the beach.

Trying to think of any other reason Edward would have rushed away so fast, coupled with Sam not turning up at the beach or my party, prevents me from dropping off. Jupiter sleeps soundly though after my shriek; lucky dog. His gravelly snores taunt me while I toss and turn.

Will my suspicions about what I suspect has happened to Sam be blamed on the Catchers, or something else? I genuinely hope I'm overreacting, but I can't think of anything that could have kept him from following his father's orders to hook up with me other than Edward's intervention. Even if Sam hadn't bothered to follow me to the beach, he would have turned up at my party to keep his father sweet. No, he must have witnessed me talking to Edward. The implications of that don't bear thinking about. Of course, I have been thinking about that, practically all night.

What Edward must have done to Sam to silence him troubles me the most during the dark hours. After Edward walked out of the sea, he did everything he could to ensure I wasn't frightened of him. Impeccable manners, humoring my ignorance, just being nice. Could he instantly change from Charming Edward into a murderous Catcher to cover up what I suspect is rule-breaking in his community? I believe he did, and my gut tells me that Sam will never be seen in Forks again.

I do eventually get to sleep, but long before our cockerel is due to crow I'm staring at the ceiling again, trying to make sense of what did or, hopefully, didn't happen yesterday. Evidently, an open window wasn't a sufficient enough temptation to attract any passing Catchers last night. I'm relieved Edward didn't come by, but only because I'm not yet ready for another encounter with him. My final thoughts before I gave in to sleep were about how to start our next conversation, that is if there'll ever be one. I suspect when he walked out of the sea he knew he was taking a huge risk showing himself to me. The risk failed spectacularly, and for that reason I suspect I will never see Edward again either.

No doubt the Uley family will look for someone to blame, even if the Elders declare that Sam was taken by the Catchers. The Uleys consider themselves a superior breed to - as Samuel would describe Emily's family - the 'lesser mortals' in Lympi. Okay, they have the largest house, the most profitable farm, and therefore generate plenty of extra credit, but they are no better than anyone else in my book. Poor Martha; if Sam has disappeared for good, I wouldn't be surprised if Samuel put her under pressure to produce another son. She must be in her mid-forties by now. Another pregnancy would kill her.

Monty the cockerel crows, heralding the dawn of what could be a nightmare of a day. I close my eyes again but sleep isn't going to happen. I can't get the image of Edward 'dealing with Sam' out of my head.

The house is silent, apart from Charlie's snores which are loud enough to wake the dead. How Mom puts up with this torture is a mystery. Rays of golden sunlight filtering through the gaps in my drapes do nothing to help my sense of foreboding. Should I be a chicken, fake illness, and stay in bed? Tempting, because serious horseshit could be heading my way if Samuel Uley maintains his son obeyed his instructions and went to the beach as ordered. Samuel's well-known misogynistic attitude towards all females means he will presume I lied last night.

One small thing I could do to ease the impending crisis would be to behave like a perfect daughter – at least for the morning. I drag myself out of bed and make it to the bathroom, and then the kitchen, without treading on any squeaky boards. I have to threaten Jupiter with no breakfast if he makes a fuss too. I don't want to wake Mom unnecessarily.

Piles of unwashed cups and plates from last night's festivities cover the table and counters so I get started. I estimate I've about an hour to clean up the mess before Mom gets up. No doubt Charlie will have the mother of all hangovers. Mike and his dad had to carry him to bed last night. I hope Charlie's booked himself on a late shift or a day off today so he can recuperate out of sight.

After I've finished cleaning the kitchen I make a start on the living room. Furniture gets returned to its rightful position. Cake crumbs and other leftovers that Jupiter missed after the guests left get brushed from chairs and tables, then snapped up by Jupiter or swept off the floor. While I'm cleaning, I keep one eye on the yard outside. If my guess is correct, a furious neighbor will arrive very soon.

I'm preparing Jupiter's breakfast when Mom appears in the kitchen doorway. When she sees I've taken care of what would be a morning's work for her, her hands fly to her face.

"Oh Isabella, thank you," she cries. We end up hugging which is unusual. I love my parents but we're not an affectionate family in that way.

"No biggy, Mom," I say and kiss her cheek. "I couldn't sleep. Your amazing cakes kept me awake half the night. Thanks for a great party. It was good to have Mike and his family here."

Mom smiles and wipes her eyes. "You're a good girl, Isabella. I can't imagine how I'll manage the house and farm when you go. There's a young man out there who'll be lucky to have you as his wife. I hope you find each other, but not too soon."

I have to stop myself from uttering a contemptuous remark about the word wife which I've always considered as an equivalent to servant. One day I'll be happy to have the status of someone's partner, but I'll never be anyone's chattel. I give Mom a half-smile and whisper in her ear.

"It will never be Sam though, Mom. Mr Uley may be a good neighbor, but he's a bully. His son is too. If Sam and Emily are allowed to marry, I hope she realizes what she's taking on. Now sit at the table while I make your milk and honey before I do my chores."

While I'm warming Mom's milk, the cold hands of dread grip my shoulders. If my last thoughts before sleep are correct, there'll be no marriage between Sam and Emily, or between Sam and anyone else. The fallout from this will be epic if I'm right. Samuel will already be pinning the blame on someone. If not a Catcher, the prime suspects will be Emily, her family, and me.

It's almost ten o'clock when Samuel strides into the yard.

"You!" he shouts, pointing at me.

I'm dragging yesterday's catch from the barn to take to the Distribution Center while making a mental note to ask Edward not to be so obliging next time. My aching muscles and sore shoulder can't take the strain. I purposely look behind me to indicate I don't know who Samuel's referring to. There's no one else in the yard both he and I know, but this is Uley's way of intimidating me. I want him to realize immediately that his strategy won't work on Isabella Swan.

"Where's your father?"

"Indoors, Mr Uley," I reply with a cheery smile and then turn my back on him. I want him also to understand that he doesn't frighten me, even though he does.

"Go get him, girl, now!"

I spin around to face him.

"My name's Isabella or Bella as you well know, Mr Uley, not girl. If you want to speak to Charlie, knock on the door yourself. I'm busy working.

Ulley puffs out his chest like a randy cockerel. "You do as I tell you …"

Luckily, the door to the house opens. Charlie, still hungover by the look of him, rubs his eyes and steps outside.

"Hey, Samuel. Is there a problem?"

"There sure is, Swan. My son didn't come home last night and he wasn't with that low-life and her family like I supposed. Emily was with her sister-in-law all day and night bringing another one of their brats into the world. No, the last person who saw my Sam was your daughter, even though she's denying it. I demand to know what happened on the beach and why he hasn't come home. If she doesn't come clean, I'm reporting her to the Elders."

It's like someone has put a firecracker up Charlie's ass. Hangover forgotten, he straightens himself up, marches over to Uley, and points his finger in his face.

"If my daughter says she didn't see your son, she didn't see him, right? My Isabella may be too mouthy for her own good sometimes, but she wouldn't tell a lie. What are you suggesting anyway, Uley? Look at her. She weighs less than a hundred pounds soaking wet. What could she possibly have done to your lump of a son, eh?"

"Well, I …"

"And where's Sam's horse? Did Buddy disappear into thin air too? Now you listen to me, Samuel Uley, I would suggest your son is sick to death of you ordering him around. He's a man now. Let him make up his mind who he courts. He'll come back home when he's good and ready."

I almost choke at Charlie's last comment. My father, just as much as Uley Senior, had conspired to hook me up with Sam, which led to all this. I'll remind him of this statement later.

Samuel deflates and rubs his hands over his face. Instead of Uley the Bully, which is how both father and son are referred to behind their backs, a broken man stands in our yard. The emotion in his voice is evident and I genuinely feel sorry for him because of what I'm sure happened yesterday.

"When we got home from here last night, Buddy was running loose in our yard. Sam would never have abandoned him like that. I'm beginning to believe the Catchers have got him. Martha is in bits."

It's time to intervene so I walk over to them.

"Mr Uley, I promise you if I'd seen Sam yesterday I would've told you. All I can say is what I told Dad last night after I got home late. Something frightened Star as I was about to leave the beach. She even snapped the hitch in two and made off." I proffer my hands to show where the reins had cut into my palms. "It took me a while to catch and calm her. I looked around afterward but there was nothing obvious on the beach to scare her, like a bear or a wolf. I'm honestly as baffled as you are."

Charlie puts his hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Alright, Isabella. I know you're telling the truth. Now get those baskets to the Distribution Center before they start stinking. They look pretty full to me."

I can't help smirking because of the reason why.

"I could use some help getting them onto the cart, Dad. My shoulder still aches from where I pulled on Star's reins yesterday. Mr Uley, I hope Sam comes home soon and that he's okay. Let us know when he does."

Jeepers, I'm an awesome liar.

As Star and I clatter out the yard, I overhear Samuel saying, 'This will finish Martha if we've lost our son, Charlie. You've never had a son, so you won't understand the impact this will have on our family and the farm.' I only hear the start of Charlie's indignant reply. His first words are, 'And you don't think Isabella leaving …'

Without the need to rein-tug, Star turns in the direction of the Distribution Center and breaks into a canter. I guess she's just as anxious to get away from the yard as me. I'm beginning to think Star can pick up the mood of the people around her, which is exceptional for such a young animal. I'll find her a treat when we get to our destination.

About a mile into the journey, I spot Mike and Uncle Michael riding across the fields towards me. Mike signals for me to stop which I do and wait for them to approach.

"Hey," Mike says as he pulls up. "Dad and I have been roped in to look for Sam. He may be lying injured somewhere so we've been assigned some areas to search. Could you look around and listen out on your way up to the Distribution Center? He could've been missed by whoever went that way earlier."

"Sure," I reply. "Where are you two heading?"

"We've been up as far as the forest already and are now on the way down to search to the south of your farm. Has Samuel been over to talk to you yet?"

"He's with Charlie now. I think he's accepted that I didn't see Sam yesterday. I've added to his concerns though. I told him about something frightening Star at the beach but that's all I know. Has there been any comment from the Elders?"

"Nothing, other than they presume Sam has had an accident and that he's lying in a ditch somewhere. Let's hope they're right. I'll see you later, Bella."

"Okay Mike, bye Uncle Michael."

I feel sick. Withholding information is wrong but there is no alternative. Maybe it's a coincidence and Edward isn't to blame? But why would Sam come to the beach anyway if he wants to be with Emily? The only explanation is that he was too scared not to do what his father told him to do. Maybe he would've come clean with me and explained he was only there under duress. I'd like to think that. Knowing that Mike, his dad, and the other neighbors will have a fruitless search upsets me, especially as I'm even more convinced now that Sam is long gone. He was not a nice person, but he didn't deserve an end like this.

Not surprisingly, the Distribution Center is deserted except for young Callum Smith who's been left to supervise the supplies. He's a sweet boy, but as Charlie says somewhat unkindly, 'he's a sandwich short of a picnic,' which is his way of saying he's not all there. He's strong though and pulls the baskets off the back of the cart with ease, plus all the other produce from the farm I've brought for distribution.

"Another bumper catch, Bella," he says as he carries the heaviest basket to the cold store. "The others want to know your secret. Are you using special bait?"

"Nah," and force a laugh. "I guess my pots must be in the best spot at the moment. I'm not complaining, Callum, just making the most of it, and the extra credits."

Callum hands me two empty baskets in return. "You got a list?"

I hand over Mom's list which is longer than usual. Callum's eyebrows go skyward and then he smiles. "Ah, I remember. It's your party on Saturday. Am I invited?"

"Of course you are, Callum. You and your folks will always be welcome."

I get one of Callum's crooked smiles and a giggle in return before he disappears into the dry store where most of Mom's requirements are kept. He comes back with two large bags of flour and dumps them on the counter.

"You not out looking for Sam then? Mom and Dad have gone east with my little sister."

"No, I've only just found out from Dr Newton that there's a search party. I hope he's okay."

"Sam's dead I reckon," Callum replies. His facial expression can't disguise that he's trying to hide a smirk. "The Catchers have got him, Bella. I never liked him so won't be shedding any tears. He bullied me mercilessly at school. Feel sorry for his mom though. She's a real nice lady."

Callum disappears into the cold store and then to and from the dry store until everything on Mom's list is on the counter. Looking at the pile I'm sure he's been over-generous. Maybe the party invitation helped?

He helps me load the cart and sees me off with a wave. "You'll dance with me on Saturday," he shouts. "Sure thing," I reply.

On the way back I spot neighbors searching the fields and woodlands and occasionally hear Sam's name being called. Guilt gets to me again, even though I've nothing to be guilty of. If or when I see Edward again, how can I ask whether he's responsible without my words sounding like an accusation? I'm desperate to have another encounter with Edward, now that I've got my head around what's happened, but I wouldn't want to accuse him or say anything to make him angry if Sam's disappearance is not down to him.

I need to go to my hill to think. The sun's position tells me I should get at least two hours to myself after I've offloaded Mom's supplies and escaped. She wants me to try on the hideous dress she's insisting I wear to the party but I'd rather turn up naked than be paraded in something so girly. No one in Forks has seen north of my ankles since my last sports lesson at school and if I have my way, that's how it will stay.

An hour later, Jupiter and I are sprawled out in my favorite place where there's an unbroken view of Forks and the land between our farm and the sea. Facing west, the silvery horizon glistens like polished glass, and for the millionth time, I wonder what lies beyond other than the abandoned islands I've only heard about but never seen. Twice from up here, I've spotted the sail-less ship Charlie warned me not to speak of. One day I'll have the courage to ask him why.

In the opposite direction behind the mountains lie the Wastelands. I've never seen them either, but the Elder told us that the terrain is gray and featureless with no trees or other greenery. 'Bereft of life and warmth,' he said as well. I shuddered at the time. One evening when Mike and I were up here to watch the sunset, we saw strange lights in the sky that seemed to come from behind the tallest mountain. Mike described the perfectly straight beams as 'otherworldly,' whatever that means. Maybe the beams came from the Old World and that's what he meant. I've never seen them again even though I always look that way whenever it gets dark.

There'll not be much of a sunset tonight. Clouds threatening rain have rolled down from the north while I've been up here. Already I feel chilled; a reminder that Fall is only weeks away. Jupiter usually plays in the longer patches of grass while I'm contemplating my future and other pressing matters. He'll jump out at imaginary rabbits and chase them for a while which makes me laugh. He's curled up next to me now with his head on my lap. He senses when I'm troubled. People don't deserve dogs.

About this time yesterday, Edward was sitting no more than fifteen feet from me. He had just admitted he swam close to the beach 'especially when I was there' or similar words. I believe him, but why did Star only pick up on his presence yesterday? The crab pots have been bountiful for most of the summer – evidence, my arm muscles. Had he been further out to sea when he watched me? If so, he must have the eyesight of an eagle.

How old is Edward? That should be my next question. I would guess no more than twenty, or twenty-five maybe. But if he's the monster who's been visiting my room since two days after my seventh birthday, he must be older than that. Maybe good living keeps his kind looking young.

What is his kind though?

Golden eyes tell me he's not my kind. Whatever is going on with his skin too? So weird. Edward somehow knew my age to the day, which means I have the right to ask the same of him. Like his name, I should know his age. I'll ask him next time – if there is a next time of course. After what I believe he's done to Sam, he may disappear for a while which would be understandable.

A cool breeze has begun to swirl around the hill indicating it's time to get indoors. There'll be a lot of sadness in Forks tonight whatever folks think of Sam Uley and his family. While I'm brushing grass off my butt, I hear whistles coming from the direction of the coast. Something is happening out there so Jupiter and I make as much haste as possible on our way down the slope.

When we arrive at the yard somewhat out of breath - well I am, not Jupiter, Mom is on the doorstep looking concerned.

"What are the whistles for," I call out.

"I don't know, Isabella. Maybe someone's spotted a Catcher. Get inside quickly and hide somewhere. It'll have to get past me and Jupiter before it gets to you."

I've just kicked my boots off when Ranger gallops into the yard. Mom flings the door open again as Charlie drops to the ground in front of the stable. Ranger steams in the cold air. I can smell his sweat indoors.

"Charlie, what's going on? Are the Catchers about?"

"Not the Catchers," he responds as he unbuckles Ranger's saddle. "Jacob Black and his cousins were searching along the riverbank where it runs into the sea. They've found Sam ... alive."

So he's not dead, which might be troublesome for Bella if he saw her talking to Edward.

Bella's next trauma is her 'newly available' party. Will she give in and show a dainty ankle, or turn up in clothes more suited to the farmyard, which she would much prefer? Decisions decisions.

Joan x