Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sitting on a train headed west, I watch as the scenery changes. The landscape that was once crowded with houses and factories has now become vast and empty. Looking out at the expansive fields, I can only imagine how much my life will forever be altered.

It is 1905, the summer of my eighteenth year. My father, Charles Swan, or Doc Swan as he is known, is a well-respected physician who was enticed by some old friends to move to a small farming town. My father loved the idea of helping a new community survive and thrive. He has always loved adventure, so here I sit beside my mother on the way to our new life. Father had gone on ahead to find us a home and get his little practice established. When everything was settled, he sent us our tickets to join him.

Our train pulls into the Forks Place Station just before noon, and I call it a station in the most liberal sense of the word. It's a platform really, with a tiny wooden building to the side. I look at the small number of buildings scattering the street just beyond the platform, and a nervousness settles in my stomach. Fear of the unknown is more like it. I've never been one for high society, fancy parties, bustling crowds, or noisy streets, but this might be more than I bargained for.

My fear is overtaken by excitement at the sight of my father waiting for us just off to the side. The conductor stops at our compartment to assist with our carry-on baggage. Most of our things came ahead of us, these being our last few necessities to get us through the journey. I can barely contain my excitement, pushing past my mother to get out the door. "Isabella!" she calls after me.

Bounding off the train, I leap into the warm embrace of my father. I have missed him so. Being an only child, my bond with him is a strong one. He calls me the apple of his eye. Growing up, he always made sure that I had everything I needed and desired. He shared his vast library, which encouraged my fondness for reading. He made sure I was educated and had a good head on my shoulders.

"Hello, my darling," he coos as he embraces my mother with a soft kiss to her temple. "I have missed you both so much. Let's get you home." He introduces us to Sam, a polite, middle-aged man, who jumps to gather our belongings and load them into our wagon. The ride to our home is not that long. Father acquired a house just on the outskirts of town. It is a beautiful two-story building, with a small barn for the animals and another small building, which my father explains is where Sam and his wife, Emily, live. I can only assume this is the petite woman standing on the front porch, wearing an apron and a warm smile. Father helps us down from our seats, and I hurry toward the house. "Welcome, Mrs. Swan, Miss Isabella. My name is Emily. It is such a pleasure to meet you. Doc Swan has told us so much about you. Once you settle in, I have an early dinner prepared, as I'm sure you are exhausted after your long journey."

"Thank you so much, Emily. That sounds wonderful," my mother replies, walking past her into the entryway. After taking a brief tour of the house, I find my room. My father has done everything to make this transition a comfortable one. My four-poster bed from our home back in Chicago is made up with brand new linens. My desk is stocked with fresh paper and pens. My wardrobe, vanity, and mirror are here. A brand new bookshelf sits in the corner, filled with some of my favorite old books and some new ones as well. I couldn't be more pleased as Father calls me down for dinner.

The next morning, Father invites me to town with him so that he may show me around. He has a few medicines that have been delivered to the store and some letters he needs to mail.

"Hello, Mrs. Newton. May I introduce you to my daughter, Isabella? Isabella, Mr. and Mrs. Newton run this store and can get you just about anything you need."

"Good morning, Doc, and welcome, Isabella. We have heard so much about you." A blush tinges my cheeks, wondering just how many people my father has informed of our arrival.

"It is nice to meet you as well. Thank you." I leave Father to his business as I peruse a few of the shelves and walk towards the back to look at some of the fabrics so I can report back to my mother. The bell rings as the front door opens.

"Good morning, Edward. How's your mother feeling? And little Micah?" my father inquires.

"Mornin', Doc. Mama and the baby are doing well. I think he's finally getting into a sleeping pattern, which has allowed the family to get some much-needed rest." I hear a low chuckle.

Peeking around the corner of the aisle, I look to see who that gentle, husky voice belongs to. Talking to my father is a young man–tall, broad shoulders, with coppery brown hair. His clothes are worn, sleeves rolled up. If I had to guess, he probably does some hard labor on a farm. My father glances over this man's shoulder and catches me stealing a look. "Come here, Isabella. Let me introduce you to Edward Cullen." Feeling guilty at being caught spying, I emerge from around the corner, head lowered. When I look up, my pulse quickens, and a blush spreads over my cheeks. Edward Cullen is one of the most handsome men I have ever laid eyes on, with his green eyes, chiseled jaw, and just a tinge of scruff on his chin. His cheeks redden as well.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Swan. Welcome to Forks."

"Edward here is your age. His family has a large farm just outside of town. His ma just had a baby," my father explains. "Isabella, we better be getting back. I need to drop you home before making some of my house calls. See you later, Edward. Tell your parents I said hello."

I turn to walk out the door with my father. Glancing back, I see Edward staring. Quickly, he looks away and pulls out a paper to hand to Mr. Newton regarding his order. Out on the front walk, my father stops to talk to a portly gentleman. A couple of kids are chasing one another. One bumps into me, then lifts a frog towards my face with an impish grin. I quickly back away, right into the path of a large horse, which causes me to yelp. "Anthony!" comes a harsh yell from that same husky voice just as he is coming out of the store. "Apologize to Miss Swan."

"Sorry, Miss Swan," this boy, Anthony, mutters. At least he has the decency to look embarrassed.

"I apologize for my brother's behavior. Seven years old and he can be downright unruly. This one here is Masen. He's six. The two of them together are trouble." He pins them with a sharp glare. "I see you've met one of our horses." He turns back to me and chuckles.

"Oh, yes, sorry. I'm just not very fond of horses. I mean, I'm sure he's a very nice horse ... He looks very nice, friendly even. It's just that horses scare me. They're big and ..." I stop talking as I realize I'm babbling and Edward is staring at me with amusement.

"Oh, Dorothy here is a big softie. She won't bother you." He chuckles again, running a hand down her head.

"Let's go, Isabella," my father calls. I hurry back to our own wagon as he helps me in. Edward Cullen is staring again. Then he looks away and wrangles his brothers into their wagon to head home.

Sunday, we head to the church for morning service. Sitting in the pew, I get the chance to look around at the other local residents. I recognize some from the short trips I've taken into town. Just before the service is ready to begin, there is a commotion coming from the entrance. Many in the congregation turn around. A small smile hits my face as in walks Anthony, followed by his brother, Masen. What I didn't expect to see were two older boys, three girls of various ages, followed by who I assume to be Mr. and Mrs. Cullen with a small baby swaddled in her arms. Edward follows just behind, sparing a quick glance around as he takes his seat. His hair is tamed as much as it appears is possible, and he is wearing a nicely pressed shirt and dark pants with suspenders. I look away quickly before my thoughts become inappropriate for this setting.

The pastor delivers a dull, somewhat droning sermon. Hymns are sung. I look again back towards the Cullen family and see that some of the older children appear to be paying attention, but the younger ones are looking anywhere but forward. Mr. Cullen is whispering to them, trying to keep them in check. Mrs. Cullen is listening intently while gently swaying the baby. Edward Cullen is staring at me. This time, I give a quick smile before glancing away.

As we all file out of the church, my father stops to introduce us to Mr. and Mrs. Cullen. "Carlisle, Esme, let me introduce you to my wife, Renee, and daughter, Isabella. Renee, Isabella, this is Carlisle and Esme Cullen. And this little one is Micah, one of my first deliveries in the town of Forks," my father says, beaming.

"Such a pleasure to meet you both. Doc has told us so much about you," Esme says. "We would love to have you over sometime for supper. And I've been meaning to send over one of my pies."

"Oh, my goodness! Where do you find the time to make pies? You certainly have your hands full. You have a beautiful family." My mother smiles as she continues to talk to Esme.

I walk over to Edward, who is standing with his back to me, talking to one of his sisters while one of the youngest ones is pulling on his arms, begging to be picked up. His sister looks to me, and Edward turns. "Hello, Edward."

"Good morning, Miss Swan."

"Please, call me Isabella." Turning to his sister, I say, "Hi, we haven't met. I'm Isabella Swan."

"This is my sister, Rosalie," Edward says, turning to the rest of his siblings. "You met Anthony and Masen. Those two over there are Jasper and Benjamin. Rebecca is standing over by my father. Micah is our newest addition. And this little girl here is Maggie." He smiles at her. The smile brightens his whole face.

"Hello there, Miss Maggie. How old are you?"

"I'm three. And a half!" We all chuckle. "Can you come over to my house?"

"I would very much like to come to your house sometime. That would be lovely." Her smile is contagious.

"I will talk to Mama and Papa and let you know when you can come."

"Well, that would be splendid. It looks like my own mama and papa are just getting ready to leave. It was nice meeting you, Maggie. It was nice meeting you too, Rosalie. Good seeing you again, Edward. Have a pleasant afternoon." With that, I am off to rejoin my parents in the wagon as my father helps me in.

Tuesday, I am reading a book in Father's office, sipping tea when I hear someone pull up. My mother answers the door, and I step up to see Rebecca and Maggie Cullen standing on our porch with a freshly-baked blueberry pie. Peering over their shoulders, I see Edward in his wagon waiting for them. He explains that he was just on his way into town, and his mother sent the girls with him to deliver the pie. My mother offers to watch them while he goes into town since he would clearly be able to move faster without his siblings in tow. Edward graciously agrees and states that he will pick them up on his way back.

Bringing the girls into the house, Mother offers them some biscuits and milk. Maggie takes great pride in showing us her dolly but is quick to point out that it is missing an eye. Once she finds another black button to match, her mother promises to fix it. I offer to take them outside and show them the garden. Mother brings out one of my favorite childhood books, The Jungle Book. We find a nice shady spot under our oak tree, and I begin reading to them. I'm so wrapped up in the story and the reactions of the girls that I almost don't notice that Edward has come up behind us. As the girls continue to look at the pictures, Edward looks at us with a hint of sadness, which quickly turns to a smile. If I hadn't been paying attention, I might not have noticed.

"Edward! Miss Isabella was reading us a story, and we walked through her garden and had a snack!" Maggie exclaims.

"Well, you better thank her for an enjoyable afternoon." He smiles as he lifts her onto his hip.

"Thank you, Miss Isabella," she shrieks.

"Yes, thank you, Miss Isabella," echoes Rebecca.

"It was my pleasure. We will have to do it again sometime."

Later that evening, I find myself standing on the front porch of the Cullen home. At first glance, I wonder how this large family fits in a house this size. It is smaller than the home we live in, with a few outbuildings and a barn. My father is waiting in our wagon on our way to do some evening house calls, and in my hands, I am holding Maggie's doll that she left at our house earlier this afternoon. I'm hoping she doesn't mind that I found a button of my own and took it upon myself to attach it. Mr. Cullen answers the door with a smile, and upon seeing the doll in my hands, he calls out to Maggie, who approaches cautiously with Mrs. Cullen just behind.

"My dolly!" she shrieks. "And she has a new eye!" Her squealing goes another octave higher. "Thank you! Thank you!" she yells as she runs off to show Rebecca.

"She has been looking everywhere for that doll. Thank you so much," Mrs. Cullen exclaims. "And thank you for fixing that eye. Won't you come in?"

"My father is waiting for me. He needs to do some evening calls." I glance over my shoulder.

"Well, that doesn't sound like much fun for you. Why don't you come in for some dessert, and your father can swing back and pick you up when he's done? Does that sound okay, Doc?"

"If Isabella wants to stay, I don't mind coming back."

Mrs. Cullen whisks me into the house and guides me towards the dining room table. Thankfully, they have finished with dinner, and I didn't interrupt them. Rosalie, Jasper, and Benjamin are in the kitchen washing and putting away the dinner dishes. Rebecca is following after Maggie. Anthony and Masen are chasing each other through the house, and Micah is sleeping peacefully in a bassinet next to the table. Edward walks in looking for Mr. Cullen and stops in his tracks, as he was unaware I was in his home.

"Hello, Miss Isabella," he says softly, seemingly unsure of what to do next.

"Let's all sit and have some dessert," Mrs. Cullen calls.

Rosalie comes out carrying two cherry crumb pies. Jasper follows behind with dessert plates and forks. The kids all jump to their assigned seats as Edward offers me his and grabs a stool from the kitchen. Oohs and aahs can be heard as the pie is being cut, and Mrs. Cullen hands me the first piece and then dishes out the rest to the family. "Cherry crumb is Edward's favorite!" Maggie announces as Edward shoots her a look.

"The pie is absolutely delicious, Mrs. Cullen. Thank you so much."

"Please dear, call me Esme." She smiles. "And I love baking. It is one of my favorite things to do. I don't have quite as much time as I used to, but I do my best to still get some done." She chuckles.

"Is there anything I can do to help you? Maybe I could come over a couple of days a week and help out with the kids or the garden or the laundry? I do enjoy baking as well, though my baked goods don't come out nearly as good as yours."

"That would be wonderful, Isabella. I would like that very much." She pauses, looking to her eldest son. "Is there something wrong with the pie, Edward?"

"No, Ma. It's wonderful."

When I go back to the Cullen house two days later, I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe some chaos, but I am quite mistaken. I should have known better; Esme runs a tight ship. Rosalie is out doing laundry and hanging it on the line. Rebecca and Maggie are gathering vegetables from the garden. Esme is patching a few items of clothing before passing them on to Rosalie. Picking up Micah from the quilt beside her on the ground, she welcomes me inside to help with preparing the noon meal. Shortly after, Anthony and Masen run in from outside, gathering a basket of food to take out to the rest of family working in the fields. After they leave, I go around to the back of the barn to fill a bucket with water. Just as I start to pump, I nearly jump out of my skin. "Good afternoon, Isabella," Edward calls from just behind me.

"Good afternoon, Edward. How are you?"

"I'm doing well," he states as he takes over the pumping. "Thanks a lot for coming over. I know my parents really appreciate it. With the younger boys starting to help out more in the field with Pa, Jasper, Ben, and me, my mother has lost a bit of her workforce," he says with a chuckle.

"I can only imagine. I don't know how she does it." I stare briefly up at the house. "Were you working in the barn? I didn't see you when I first came out."

"Yeah, one of the saddles needed repairing, and once supper is over, I usually start cleaning out the stalls." We walk into the barn, and I see a few horses, cows, and a goat. Bales of hay are stacked high off to one side. Two giggles come out of the loft up above. "Get out of there, you two!" Out pops the heads of Anthony and Masen, barreling over with laughter after being caught spying. "And I know you climbed up there on the bales. I told you to stop doing that 'cause your sister keeps seeing you and trying to follow you up there!" Climbing down the ladder and jumping, they narrowly miss Edward's hat as he whips it at them. Edward chuckles. "I used to do the same thing as a kid. Doesn't mean it was smart."

Turning to me again, he says, "So what do I need to do to get you to learn to ride a horse?"

"What?" His question takes me aback. "Oh, I don't think that's a good idea, Edward. Horses and I don't mix." I laugh nervously.

"Maybe on a couple of evenings, after all the work is done, I can give you a few lessons. Every girl needs to know how to ride a horse."

"Not in Chicago they don't."

"Well you aren't in Chicago anymore, Miss Swan." He laughs. He's got me there.

"We'll see." I smile, picking up my bucket and heading back to the house. Glancing back, I see he's still smiling as he tips his hat to me and heads back into the barn.

A few weeks later, I find myself at Newton's store picking up some of the fabrics that my mom and I ordered. The store is quite busy today. In walks Edward, Anthony, and Masen, who give me a quick wave as they step up to the counter. I continue my discussion with Mrs. Newton, looking over some of the other threads and buttons that she has. Suddenly, I hear Edward shouting at the boys to stop their fooling around and go outside. I've never seen him like this. The boys are usually acting like young boys do, so their behavior is nothing out of the norm. He looks troubled, and I excuse myself to find out what is going on. Edward is gripping the counter, trying to calm himself after his quick outburst. He seems anxious, and I feel bad for him. "Edward, what's wrong?" Mr. Newton sees that I've come over to intervene and pushes a pencil and paper towards Edward and steps over to help another customer.

Edward stands there for a minute, hunched over, eyes on the floor, hands still gripping the counter. I wait. Then quietly, he whispers, "I left the list at home." He pauses. "I forgot the list of what my father needs."

"Oh, well, do you remember anything on the list? Maybe I can help jog your memory. We can run through what you usually order, and you can write it down again."

"That's the problem, Isabella. Mr. Newton hurt his hand and needs me to write it."

"Well, if you remember what you need, then go ahead and write it. You can't blame the man for hurting his hand."

Barely audible, he breathes out, "I can't write down a new list." Looking over to meet my eyes, his are full of sorrow. "I can't write, Isabella. I can't read either. I never learned how." He looks down again, embarrassed.

For a second, I am speechless. I've seen many of the other children working on lessons with Esme, both reading and writing. They don't spend a lot of time doing it, but they know the basics. Reaching over his arm, I grab the pencil and paper. "Tell me what you need, Edward. I will write it for you." Slowly, he recalls each item and the amount needed. Just as we are finishing, Mr. Newton comes back over, taking the list and telling Edward when to expect some of the items. I finish my own order with Mrs. Newton, grabbing my fabrics and taking them outside.

Edward is loading the boys into the wagon. He steps over to me. "Isabella, I really can't thank you enough."

"It was no trouble." We pause awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say. Then an idea comes to me. "Hey, Edward, I hear that riding a horse is something that every girl needs to know." I smirk. "If I let you teach me to ride a horse, would you let me teach you to read and write?" He's staring at me with a look that I can't interpret.

After a few tense moments and the smirk about to slip from my face, Edward speaks. "I would like that very much," he says as a warm smile slowly builds on his face.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Edward."

"Tomorrow, Isabella," he says, tipping his hat.

The next evening, after both dinner and the chores are completed, Edward and I find a spot on the porch, pulling over a small barrel and placing a piece of wood atop to form a makeshift table. I then pull out a chalkboard and piece of chalk. Not knowing where to start, we begin with the basics. Letter by letter, we work through printing the alphabet. Edward does know a number of the letters by name, having learned them as a young lad before he was tasked to start helping his father to work the farm. I am amazed to hear that Edward started going out to the fields when he was just five years old, only a bit younger than Masen is now. Esme already had her hands full with Rosalie and Jasper, as well as the chores of their young home.

We move on to a couple of simple books. I'm happy to see that instead of showing any reluctance or embarrassment, Edward displays nothing but concentration and determination. We work painstakingly through a small stack of books before frustration finally shows its ugly head. "Edward, this isn't going to happen overnight, but you are doing so well. Don't get down on yourself. We will do some more tomorrow."

"I can't do this tomorrow." He sighs. I look over at him, shocked that he would give up so easily.

He looks back at me. "I need to teach a girl how to ride a horse." Belly laughter erupts from his mouth, and I try to suppress a laugh as I roll my eyes.

"Now, like I said before, Dorothy here is an old softie. Nothing to be afraid of." He smiles as he rubs a hand gently down her mane. I'm not so convinced as I stand a few feet off. Slowly, I take one step towards them, but when Edward sees I'm not going to move any closer, he gently picks up my hand. I stare as his palm, rough from hard manual labor, caresses mine with the utmost gentleness. Electricity runs up my arm. Gradually, he takes my hand and moves it up to Dorothy's muzzle. Slowly, he guides my hand down across her nose. She lets out a soft sound, seemingly pleased by my touch.

"Hello, Dorothy ... nice to officially meet you. Are you going to be kind to me today? I think we can come to some sort of arrangement. Maybe there's an apple or two in it for you." Edward quietly chuckles.

"Now come around the side. I already have her saddled for you." Pulling over a short stool, he instructs me to step up and place my left foot into the stirrup. I start for a second as I feel Edward's hands gently touch my waist. Quickly, he pulls his hands away as if burned by fire.

"Sorry," he says, looking embarrassed.

"Don't be sorry. I'd rather you steady me than end up face first in a pile of dirt. I just wasn't expecting it is all."

Slowly, he places his hands back to my waist and steadies me as I grab onto the part sticking up at the front.

"That's the horn. Grab it, and when you are ready, lift yourself up and swing your right leg over the top. I got you. You won't fall."

I do just as he advises, and before I know it, I'm looking at the world from a much different view. "Oh, my goodness, this is high."

"It's not that high, Isabella." He again chuckles.

He takes the reins and looks about ready to start walking out of the barn. "Wait! What are you doing?" He pauses with a questioning look on his face.

"Isabella, if you are going to ride a horse, it involves moving out of the barn."

"I don't think I'm quite ready for that. Maybe we could save that part for another day."

Chuckling, he ignores my protests and walks Dorothy out of the stable. "Edward! Okay, that's enough for today! Slow down please!"

Before I know it, Edward is slowly leading Dorothy around the small fenced-in pen. I'm riding with only one eye closed instead of two. Abruptly, I turn my head, hearing the laughter of two young boys coming from behind the fence. Edward starts chasing after them. I quickly realize that I am on my own–on top of a horse. A squeal comes from my lips. Both eyes squeeze tightly shut. Dorothy just continues around the pen at a lazy pace. "I think Micah could crawl faster than Dorothy is walking right now," booms the voice of someone I know quite well. I open my eyes again, this time to the laughter of not only my father, but Edward, Esme, and Carlisle as well.

Edward makes a clicking sound, and Dorothy ambles over to the foursome standing there at the side of the fence. He moves around to help me down. With an authoritative clearing of the throat, my father steps in front of him to help me instead. Again, the three parents get a chuckle in, this time at Edward's expense. "We'll see you all tomorrow," Father says, leading me over to the wagon.

"Goodnight, Doc, Isabella. We'll see you tomorrow," Esme says as she and Carlisle walk towards the house. Edward watches with a gentle smile and gives a quick wave as he leads Dorothy back to the barn.

So that's how things get along for the next couple of months. Our evenings alternate between reading, writing, and rides with Dorothy. Edward has made a lot of progress, and I have graduated to riding on my own with Edward next to me on his own horse.

Edward and I have gotten inevitably closer. Despite his inability to read and write, he is an amazingly brilliant man. He has such vast knowledge about farming and the growing frontier, but also about things from astronomy to politics. He speaks passionately about many subjects, but is also a good listener who does not seem affronted by an opinionated woman. I find our time together to be one of my favorite times of the day.

Tonight, the evening is just beautiful. The sun is setting, and the first hint of stars are in the sky as we bring our horses into the barn after our ride. My confidence in dismounting may be a little too premature as I get caught up in one of the straps and almost end up in a pile of manure. Edward catches me in his strong arms, and my hands land on the muscled expanse of his chest. My eyes are trapped by his emerald gaze as his head slowly lowers, tilting slightly to the side. With the softest touch, our lips meet, and we share the sweetest of kisses. Though it only lasts a few seconds, it is my whole world. We quickly pull apart for fear of being caught by prying eyes or questioning parents.

Later, as my eyes drift closed, lying here in my bed, all I can think about is Edward and how I can't wait to see him again.

After my first kiss the night before, I'm sitting at Esme's kitchen table, swearing she knows what we have done. She's snapping the ends of green beans while I sit peeling potatoes.

"I think it's wonderful what you are doing for Edward." My hand slips, and the peeler is flying near across the table as my eyes are glued to the potato, a light blush tinging my cheeks. "It has been one of my greatest regrets in life, not teaching him to read and write." I let out a breath again, picking up my peeler. "Being young when Edward was born and not having a mother figure in my life, I was so overwhelmed. I didn't know the first thing about raising babies. Then when Rosalie was born two years later and Jasper two years after that, I just never found the time to show him. Before I knew it, he was out bounding after Carlisle, and the years just flew by. I made a promise to myself not to let the other children follow the same path. By the time Benjamin and Rebecca came along, I was more experienced at life and into a better routine, and it was easier to find time for learning. The children aren't as learned as I would like, but the younger ones especially, are much better off than Edward is. I really appreciate you working with him. He also seems to be much more receptive to your teaching than to that of his dear old mother." She smirks at me with a little wink.

"Isabella, my son has never been happier, and I thank you for that as well. I know you both enjoy spending time with each other. Just remember that there are a lot of eyes around this farm and a lot of children who have loose lips. I'm sure neither you, myself, nor Carlisle wants to be having to explain any sordid tales to your father." My face is about as red as a beet straight out of Esme's garden. "Oh, silly girl, I don't mean to embarrass you. I just want to give you fair warning." She chuckles. "Edward is getting the same talking to from Carlisle. We remember what it was like when we first met, before we were courting, before we got married." She reaches over and takes my hand, looking me in the eye. "You are a wonderful, smart, kindhearted, beautiful girl, Isabella. We feel so blessed to have you in our lives. I'm just trying to keep an eye out for you." She smiles gently, getting up to finish the rest of the meal.

Harvesting season brings with it longer, tiring days. Edward and I don't get to spend nearly as much time on our lessons. He is exhausted most days, on one occasion almost falling asleep at our makeshift table. Additionally, there is much more to do around the house as well–canning and pickling, sewing heavier clothes, making sure things are in good repair. I'm a little nervous about the upcoming winter, as I'm sure it will be vastly different from our winters in Chicago. Nevertheless, I continue to help my mother and Esme prepare their homes as best we can.

Tonight after dinner, Edward and I get to spend a little bit of time outside near the barn. We were planning to go for a ride, but the weather has gotten a little cooler, and Edward looks tired from another long day. Some of the younger children are playing in the yard, so we inch a little farther around the side of the barn, trying to sneak a bit of privacy. Edward tells me about the crops they brought in today and some of the problems they had. He listens quietly as I tell him about the progress his mom and I made. Without even realizing, I am settled against him with my back to his chest, and his arms wrap around me as if they belong there. It's so peaceful out here. With the beginning of a new season, so much is changing–the view from where we stand, the smells in the air, and something is changing between Edward and me as well. He slowly turns me around, draws me in closer, and this time, there is little pause before his lips are on mine. Sweet kisses are on my lips, over my cheeks, my forehead and back to my lips again. Our breathing quickens. His hands tighten at my waist. My pulse is racing, and I can feel his heart pounding under my hands through the fabric of his shirt.

"Edward!" A scream pierces the air. Edward and I jump apart, and he goes running towards the scream. "Edward! Ma! Pa! Come quick, come quick!" Anthony is screaming uncontrollably, and Masen is crying his eyes out. When I get to the barn to see what the commotion is about, my heart almost stops beating. There, lying on the floor is the motionless body of three-year-old Maggie. Edward is kneeling over her, urging her to wake up. "No, no, no, no, no, no," he is chanting, brushing the hair off her little face.

"We didn't see her behind us! We didn't know she was there or we wouldn't have been climbing! We didn't see her 'til she fell!" the boys cry out between sobs as Carlisle and Esme reach the barn.

"How many times have I told you not to be climbing on those hay bales?!" Carlisle is screaming. Esme is sobbing, holding little Maggie in her arms.

"I thought you were watching them, Edward! What were you doing out here?!" Carlisle screams again. For a brief moment, Edward's glance falls to me, followed by the glares of Esme and Carlisle, and I have never felt more ashamed. Slowly, I start backing out of the barn, feeling as if I'm going to be sick. There is only one thing I can think of to do. Running over to Dorothy, I quickly climb onto her saddle, and I ride. I ride like my life depends on it, like little Maggie's life depends on it. I ride all the way home, praying that my father is there.

Running into the house, I take my parents by surprise. "Daddy! Come quick! It's Maggie Cullen! She's hurt really bad!" My father is out of his chair and grabbing his bag before running right out the door. He jumps onto one of our own horses and makes his way towards the Cullen homestead. I follow closely behind, eager to know how she is but reluctant to face Carlisle and Esme. By the time I arrive, my father has gone with Maggie into Carlisle and Esme's bedroom. Jasper and Benjamin are sitting outside on the porch, staring quietly into the darkness. Rebecca is rocking Micah while Rosalie is comforting Anthony and Masen, who appear to have cried themselves to sleep.

The one person I desperately want to see, need to see, is not in the house. I go in search of Edward and find him sitting on one of the bales of hay, hunched over, head in his hands, pulling at his hair. "Edward," I whisper. He looks up, and the expression in his eyes is one of pure torture. Torture that I wish I could take away more than anything in the world. I step next to him, unsure of what to say or do. Before I can move, he buries his head against my belly and just cries and cries. My heart is breaking, for him, for Maggie, for the whole Cullen family. I wish we could go back two hours to our peaceful evening, watching the seasons change. I wish it more than anything.

Edward pulls away, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I'm so sorry." He pauses. "I'm sorry for everything. I crossed a line before. It was never my intention to take advantage of you. Now God is punishing me."

"Edward, don't say that. You have nothing to apologize for. God is not punishing you. We were both guilty of letting things get a little out of hand."

"And look what happened!" he screams, gesturing towards the house. "I should have been watching them! I should have been watching her! If anything happens, I will never forgive myself! Never!" I watch as Edward storms off towards the fields, and I have never felt more alone.

Sitting on the porch step, I hold vigil, waiting for any news. A short while later, the screen door opens, and my father comes out, giving some last-minute instructions to Carlisle.

"Let's go, Isabella."

I wish Carlisle a good night, but he can barely look me in the eye. As my father helps me up onto our horse and climbs on behind me, the tears start streaming down my face as we begin to make our way back home.

My mother is pacing the floor upon our return. As my father closes the door behind him, she bombards him. "What happened? Is she okay?" These same questions are mine as well.

"Well, it appears Maggie was following her brothers, trying to climb up the bales of hay in the barn. She lost her balance and fell. She hit her head and became unconscious. She also fractured her arm, which needed to be repositioned. I put her in a sling and gave them something for pain to give her when she wakes. Right now, it's just a waiting game. Her body will wake her when she is ready."

"What were they doing playing in the barn? Wasn't anyone watching them?" my mother questions.

My father's eyes meet mine, and I see it ... He knows, and he doesn't break my gaze as he replies, "I don't know, Renee. It was just a freak accident. No use blaming anyone at this point. It won't change anything." Looking away, he reaches to comfort her. "Just say some prayers. That's all we can do right now. Just say some prayers."

"Poor Esme. I can't even imagine," my mother says as she begins crying.

The weight of this entire evening weighs heavily on me, and I am so tired. The guilt and the shame are suffocating, and I need to get to my room before I start crying. I know once I start, I won't be able to stop. Just as I'm about to climb the stairs, my father calls to me.

"Isabella. I think it's best that you take a break from going over to the Cullens' for a while. You and your mother can send food, and there's still plenty of work to be done around here before winter comes."

"Yes, Daddy," I voice, pretending that my heart isn't breaking.

"Carlisle and Esme agreed as well," he adds. And just like a punch to the gut, it knocks the wind right out of me. I barely make it to my room and close the door before the racking sobs take hold.

As one day turns into two, I try to keep my mind off the Cullens, but I am unsuccessful. While my father is right, and there is still much work to be done around here, I can't stop thinking about Maggie and Edward and Esme and Carlisle. I often find myself staring into space. My father goes to check on her every day.

There is still no change.

That Sunday, I find myself confessing my sins to the pastor before service. His absolution provides little comfort. I sit, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Cullens, hoping they will make an appearance. Just moments before the service is set to start, in walks at least part of the family. Carlisle is here with Rosalie and Rebecca, Jasper, Benjamin, Anthony, and Masen. Their mood remains somber and in stark contrast to their usual appearances. When the music begins to play, one more member slips into the seat next to Carlisle. Edward has dark circles under his eyes, hair disheveled, and doesn't even spare me a glance. I turn back around to pay attention to the service as prayers are offered up for Maggie and a sermon about not knowing God's plan, but having faith. By the time we exit the church at the end of mass, the Cullens are already gone.

Today is Tuesday, and my parents are off to see the Cullens together. My mother took over a basket of food, and my contribution was a few books, hoping they would find some enjoyment in them. I am sitting by the fireplace, reading my own book, but I've found myself repeatedly having to read the same page over and over. I must have nodded off because the next thing I know my mother is calling my name as she walks through the door. "Isabella! Isabella!"

"In here, Mother!" I call.

"Maggie Cullen woke up today! She's complaining of pain in her head and her arm, but she is awake! And she's talking and hungry, and your father says that those are all good signs!" She embraces me in excitement, and the relief I feel is overwhelming. She rushes off to share the good news with Sam and Emily. I say a quick prayer of thanks to God and immediately think of Edward. I hope that now he can find some peace in his heart and in his mind.

Staring out over the vast expanse of crisp white snow, I pull the quilt a little tighter around my shoulders. Winter came early this year and has been quite harsh in more ways than one. Whipping winds and blinding snows have kept most people inside their homes. Church services have been canceled more days than not. Store deliveries have slowed, as some of the trains have had a hard time passing through. My father keeps shorter hours at the clinic in town and ventures out to people's homes, mainly to check on his sickest patients and to welcome some of the newest to our community.

Life continues despite the harsh cold.

My life carries on, but I feel nothing but emptiness inside. My once full days of playing with the Cullen children, helping Esme with chores, and cooking and working with Edward on his lessons have given way to quiet days at home. Now, they are spent sitting with my mother in silence as we sew new dresses for the spring, or reading books by the fire and listening to my father tell stories about his day. Aside from the occasional church service, I haven't seen the Cullens since that autumn night. I braved my way into town on a few of the milder days to get what supplies I could from the store. Secretly, I hoped that I would see Edward, but each time, I found myself sorely disappointed.

This morning, I am packing up a box for my father to take to the Cullen homestead. Christmas is a few days away, and I have spent many of my lonely days pondering what to give them. Some of the items were purchased from stores in Chicago, and some were handmade. I filled the box with candies and gum, spinning tops, Crayola crayons, paper, pencils, and books. For Maggie, a small handmade doll to play along with her favorite one at home. My father says that her arm has just about healed, with no signs of any permanent disability, and her mind is as sharp as a tack. Her personality is the same as it has always been. Honestly, that was my only Christmas wish this year. Anything yet to come my way is only extra. For Carlisle and Esme, I knitted a new throw for their bed. My mother put together a collection of baked goods and Christmas cookies to add to their holiday meal. I couldn't decide what to get Edward. In the end, I found a journal for him in which to write his thoughts. I paged through a number of my poetry books and copied lines that I found meaningful among some of his pages. I hope that he will be able to read them or will at least go to Esme or Carlisle for help if needed. Maybe he will find my gift foolish and won't read or use it at all. I place a single slip of paper inside the front cover. It reads:

Edward,

I hope my letter finds you safe and warm. This winter has been a stark contrast to ones I have faced in Chicago, and I can only hope that spring comes quickly, as I am ready to be done with the snow. I want you to know that I miss you. I hope you and your family are doing well. Have a very Merry Christmas, and I wish you nothing but the best for the upcoming New Year.

Sincerely,

Isabella

My father returns and states that the entire family loved their gifts, especially Maggie, as she started calling her new doll Isabella. This brings a great smile to my face.

On Christmas Day, the weather is in our favor to venture out for morning services. It is so nice to see people out and about after these last few cold months. Christmas joy is in the air, and you can't help but get into the spirit as happy songs lift to the sky. Glancing back, I feel like all is right with the world seeing the entire Cullen family once again seated in their pews. As if he could sense me staring, Edward looks up, and with a small smile, mouths the words to me, "Merry Christmas," before paying his attention back to the pastor. A quick look to Esme and a soft smile and nod comes from her as well.

Following the service, my mother and I are making our way towards our wagon. Quickly, Edward rushes to catch us and places a small envelope in my hand. "Merry Christmas, Isabella," he says, looking me right in the eye, if only for a brief moment. He turns to my mother and says, "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Swan."

"Thank you, Edward. Merry Christmas to you too." She smiles. Walking back toward his family, Edward passes my father, wishing him a Merry Christmas as well. Father places a box in our wagon and hops on, ready to make our way home.

Sam and Emily join us for our Christmas meal, and Emily has really outdone herself. I couldn't possibly eat another bite. After finishing up with the dishes, my father, mother, and I move to our sitting room to be closer to the fire. We open our gifts to each other. Father reads us a story, as is our annual Christmas tradition. The envelope that Edward gave me sits heavy in my pocket. I am eager to open it but have yet to find a moment's privacy with which to read it. Just as I'm about to head up to my room, my father calls me back to sit. He pulls the box from next to the fireplace. "This is from the Cullens. They gave it to me earlier after service, along with the pie."

I watch as he opens a beautifully knitted hat and scarf to keep him warm for his winter house calls. My mother is given an ornate runner for our dining room table. I slowly open the wrapping of my package, and tears well in my eyes as I'm staring at the children's drawings in various colors, with the name of each artist scribbled towards the bottom. Even Jasper has drawn a detailed pencil drawing of a landscape that captures the land beautifully. Rosalie has made a small pouch for keeping trinkets, and there is a delicate handkerchief with exquisite embroidery bearing my initials that I recognize immediately as coming from Esme's hand.

After showing one another our gifts, I excuse myself to my room. Closing the door, I move to the bed and pull Edward's envelope from my pocket. As I open it, an item falls from inside. It is a unique bookmark threaded together in such a way as to form an ornate design. Such a thoughtful gift, as he knows my fondness for reading. I unfold the decorative stationery, and again, tears well in my eyes, threatening to fall. In Edward's own rudimentary handwriting, it reads:

Dear Isabella,

Thank you for your gift. I cannot wait to fill its pages and read the words you wrote. I miss you too. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year.

Edward

I fall asleep with the folded paper under my pillow and cannot remember a better night's sleep in a long while.

In the morning, when I wake, I can hardly wait to respond.

Dear Edward,

Thank you so much for the beautiful bookmark. You know me well, and I have already found a new book to use it in. Your written reply is an even greater gift. You should feel so proud of how far you have come. It is a true testament to your hard work. Missing you.

Sincerely,

Isabella

Father hand delivers the letter on his next venture out. I hope the weather changes soon, as I am getting restless with the monotony of my days. The monotony is slightly broken as new letters from Edward continue to arrive.

Dear Isabella,

Thank you for your kind words. I find this dragging winter has given me plenty of time to work on my reading and writing. I have found a new book also. Ma has been quite patient with me. I don't remember a season this harsh that it has kept us indoors for so long. Anthony and Masen are almost unbearable. I'm sure you can imagine. Thinking of you.

Sincerely,

Edward

Dear Isabella,

I hope that spring comes soon. There are many things I wish to tell you, but I find writing them all down to be very hard. Maggie is doing so well. She misses you too and speaks of you all the time. She put a bandage on her doll's arm and pretends she is a doctor like your father. My father and I made it into town to see Mr. Newton about placing some early orders. He thinks it will be an early spring. Jasper says no. While I hope he is wrong, I think he may be right. He has a good sense about these things. Missing you.

Sincerely,

Edward.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature is not easy on us, and an early spring does not come. Feet upon feet of snow drop down on our community. I can barely stand to be inside the house anymore. Even my father has grown tired of the treacherous journeys to outlying homesteads, but he persists, as nothing comes above his patients.

By early March, the snow has mostly melted. The air has warmed, and people are out and about. The seasons are once again changing, and I look forward to the colors of spring.

Tonight, we are just finishing up with dinner when there is a quiet knock at the door. My father goes to answer it, and peeking around the corner, I see Edward standing in the doorway. He has a nervous look on his face that I can't place as he passes a freshly made pie to my father...cherry crumb. Father passes it along to Mother before stepping outside to walk with Edward towards our barn. I'm nervous that something is wrong either with Edward or with one of his family members.

"Step away from the window, Isabella," my mother says as she catches me staring.

Absentmindedly, I walk towards the chair and pick up my book as my mother sits in her rocking chair knitting. I find myself staring at the same page until Father comes walking back in the door about forty-five minutes later. It is not my place to ask what Edward needed, and after a while, it is clear that my father isn't sharing. My mind spends the rest of the evening and much of my night fretting over the possibilities.

By mid-morning, I have almost worried myself to sickness. My mother and father seem completely oblivious to my distress and are going about their usual business seemingly without a care in the world. I am about to plead insanity and beg my father to tell me what Edward was doing here last evening when the sound of a wagon pulls up to the front of our house.

Much like yesterday, Edward appears at our front door, this time looking more nervous than the last visit, if that is even possible. I take notice that he seems to be dressed for Sunday service with his hair tamed and his clothes neatly pressed.

My father welcomes him inside, and they move to the sitting room, where my mother goes to join them. As I have not been invited, I maintain my place in the kitchen, leaning into the doorway as close as humanly possible without tipping over in a fruitless attempt to catch a piece of their conversation.

"Isabella, could you come in here please?" Father beckons. I just about trip over my feet walking towards the sitting room. I run my hands along my dress to make sure I look presentable. It feels like ages since I have seen Edward, and it hits me how much I have truly missed him.

"Edward would like to have a word with you, dear," my mother says as she and my father move to leave.

"We'll be right in the next room if you need anything." Father shares a look with Edward.

"Yes, sir. Doc. Sir." Pink slightly tinges his ears.

The whole situation is slightly confusing, but I take a seat as Edward motions for me to sit.

I wait patiently as Edward appears as if he is going to speak, then closes his mouth and opens it yet again.

"Hello." He chuckles nervously.

"Hello, Edward. How have you been?"

"I have been well." He pauses. "Actually, I have not been well." My stomach drops, as now I'm sure that something is wrong and he is here to break the bad news.

"These last few months have been terrible. I have been beating myself up over the accident with Maggie last fall. I keep replaying that day in my head. There are many things that I would have done differently, but the more I think about it, I realize that I cannot go back and change anything. Thankfully, Maggie has made a full recovery, and I thank God repeatedly for that fact. Each day, she does something that amazes me. Anthony and Masen seem to have grown up and settled down some, and Rebecca is growing into a beautiful young lady.

"All of my siblings are full of life, joy, and happiness, and all I can think about is you. I miss seeing you every day. I miss hearing your voice, your occasional snort when you giggle. I miss our deep conversations. I miss our lessons. I miss sharing my day with you. I want to share all of these things with you again ... the way we used to. But this time, I'm going to do it properly."

His voice lowers to a quiet whisper as he stares straight into my eyes. "While I don't regret what we did that day, I do regret putting you in that position and the risk I put on your reputation. For that, I am truly sorry. I embarrassed myself and my family, and I don't plan on doing that again."

Raising his voice back to a normal volume, he clears his throat before going on. "I have asked your father's permission to court you, and he has given his blessing. So now I am asking you if you will have me."

At this point, my eyes are as wide as saucers, and my mouth is agape. Of all the things I had anticipated Edward to say, this conversation wasn't even on the list.

As Edward becomes visibly more uncomfortable, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, I realize that minutes have passed, and I have yet to say a word. "Yes, Edward. Yes! I would like that very much." He lets out a large sigh of relief, and a broad grin graces his face. "You had me worried for a minute."

"Us too," sounds the voice of my mother coming from the next room over. Edward and I both chuckle.

He goes on to say, "My parents would like me to invite you and your parents over for dinner tomorrow."

"That would be lovely, and I look forward to seeing them again. I would say that I'll let my parents know, but something tells me they've already heard." I chuckle, glancing over my shoulder.

Edward and I rise to our feet, and he gently takes hold of my hand, caressing his thumb along my palm. "It has been a long winter, Isabella. I have missed you so. You've made me a very happy man today." With that, he brings my hand to his lips and places the gentlest of kisses. My hand is quickly dropped as my parents come back into the room, and a giggle erupts from my lips.

I find myself again standing on the Cullens' front porch. Nervous doesn't even begin to explain how I am feeling. Carlisle and Esme come to the door to welcome us in. I pass along to Esme the fresh baked bread and cookies we have brought. No sooner do I step foot in the door than Maggie is barreling around the corner. "Isabella! I have missed you so much!" Slowly, all of the children come out to greet us. I am met with nothing but warm hugs and cheerful greetings.

Dinner is just about ready, and I go into the kitchen to see if Esme needs any assistance. "Rosalie, can you please take these last two bowls? Isabella and I will be out in a minute. Tell everyone to go ahead and come to the table."

As Rosalie walks out of the kitchen, Esme stands for a second staring at me. Just as I'm about to speak, she holds up her hand.

"Isabella. I want to apologize to you."

"But–" I try to interrupt.

"Please, let me speak. It's been a long winter, and I've had a lot of time to think. I apologize for the way I treated you that day that Maggie fell. I know it was not your fault, but I was terrified and looking for someone to blame. I know how close you are to Maggie, and it was unfair to treat you the way that I did. I also apologize for allowing you and Edward to be in that position. While I remember how it was when we were young, I owed it to you and your parents to keep you under a more watchful eye. I know that may sound strict, but if Carlisle and I hadn't been so lax in our supervision of you two, you wouldn't have been in the position in the first place."

Placing her towel on the counter, she steps closer to me. "Now with that being said, I can't tell you how much you have been missed around this house this winter, not only by Edward but also by myself, Carlisle, and all of the children. You became such an integral part of our lives, and without you here, it left a big hole. I know that Edward felt it, and that was part of the reason we weren't surprised to hear that he was going to talk to your father. You make him so happy and have become so important to him. That is all that I've ever wanted, for my children to be happy. We will be so blessed to have you as a part of our family when that day comes."

By now, the tears are streaming down my face. I quickly rush to embrace Esme in the tightest hug I can muster. "Thank you," I whisper.

"Thank you, sweet girl," she says as she brushes the tear from my cheek. "Now let's get out there before the food gets cold." She laughs. "I bet they are all starving.

Wiping the tears quickly from both of our eyes, we walk out of the kitchen and find the dining room bustling with conversation and laughter. "Are you okay?" my mom whispers as I take a seat next to her at the table.

"I'm great, Mom. Just great." I look up into the concerned eyes of Edward and give him a brief nod and a smile. He smiles back just before we all bow our heads to say grace.

Our courtship is a short one. No sense in wasting time when you know you've met the right one, Edward says.

So once the small home on the Cullen property, built by Edward with the help of his father, brothers, and some other members of our community is complete, Edward and I are married in a small ceremony surrounded by our family and close friends. It is a beautiful summer day, much like the one just over one year ago when I found myself riding on a train to my new life. I think of the lessons I have learned and the lessons that are yet to come. The nervousness and excitement are there again, but I know that with Edward by my side, we can face anything the future has to bring.