He smiled at me until I gave up with an angry humph. "So that's it. You won't sleep with me until we're married."
"Technically, I can't ever sleep with you."
I rolled my eyes. "Very mature, Edward."
"But, other than that detail, yes, you've got it right."
"I think you have an ulterior motive."
His eyes widened innocently. "Another one?"
"You know this will speed things up," I accused.
He tried not to smile. "There is only one thing I want to speed up, and the rest can wait forever . . . but for that, it's true, your impatient human hormones are my most powerful ally at this point."
"I can't believe I'm going along with this. When I think of Charlie . . . and Renee! Can you imagine what Angela will think? Or Jessica? Ugh. I can hear the gossip now."
He raised one eyebrow at me, and I knew why. What did it matter what they said about me when I leaving soon and not coming back? Was I really so oversensitive that I couldn't bear a few weeks of sidelong glances and leading questions?
Maybe it wouldn't bug me so much if I didn't know that I would probably be gossiping just as condescendingly as the rest of them if it was someone else getting married this summer.
Gah. Married this summer! I shuddered.
And then, maybe it wouldn't bug me so much if I hadn't been raised to shudder at the thought of marriage.
Edward interrupted my fretting. "It doesn't have to be a big production. I don't need any fanfare. You won't have to tell anyone or make any changes. We'll go to Vegas -- you can wear old jeans and we'll go to the chapel with the drive-through window. I just want it to be official -- that you belong to me and no one else."
"It couldn't be any more official than it already is," I grumbled. But his description didn't sound that bad. Only Alice would be disappointed.
"We'll see about that." He smiled complacently. "I suppose you don't want your ring now?"
I had to swallow before I could speak. "You suppose correctly."
He laughed at my expression. "That's fine. I'll get it on your finger soon enough."
I glared at him. "You talk like you already have one."
"I do," he said, unashamed. "Ready to force upon you at the first sign of weakness."
"You're unbelievable."
"Do you want to see it?" he asked. His liquid topaz eyes were suddenly shining with excitement.
"No!" I almost shouted, a reflex reaction. I regretted it at once. His face fell ever so slightly. "Unless you really want to show it to me," I amended. I gritted my teeth together to keep my illogical terror from showing.
"That's all right," he shrugged. "It can wait."
I sighed. "Show me the damn ring, Edward."
He shook his head. "No."
I studied his expression for a long minute.
"Please?" I asked quietly, experimenting with my newly discovered weapon. I touched his face lightly with the tips of my fingers. "Please can I see it?"
His eyes narrowed. "You are the most dangerous creature I've ever met," he muttered. But he got up and moved with unconscious grace to kneel next to the small bedside table. He was back on the bed with me in an instant, sitting beside me with one arm around my shoulder. In his other hand was a little black box. He balanced it on my left knee.
"Go ahead and look, then," he said brusquely.
It was harder than it should have been to pick up the inoffensive little box, but I didn't want to hurt him again, so I tried to keep my hand from shaking. The surface was smooth with black satin. I brushed my fingers over it, hesitating.
"You didn't spend a lot of money, did you? Lie to me, if you did."
"I didn't spend anything," he assured me. "It's just another hand-me-down. This is the ring my father gave to my mother."
"Oh." Surprise colored my voice. I pinched the lid between my thumb and forefinger, but didn't open it.
"I supposed it's a little outdated." His tone was playfully apologetic. "Old-fashioned, just like me. I can get you something more modern. Something from Tiffany's?"
"I like old-fashioned things," I mumbled as I hesitantly lifted the lid.
Nestled into the black satin, Elizabeth Masen's ring sparkled in the dim light. The face was a long oval, set with slanting rows of glittering round stones. The band was gold -- delicate and narrow. The gold made a fragile web around the diamonds. I'd never seen anything like it.
Unthinkingly, I stroked the shimmering gems.
"It's so pretty," I murmured to myself, surprised.
"Do you like it?"
"It's beautiful." I shrugged, feigning a lack of interest. "What's not to like?"
He chuckled. "See if it fits."
My left hand clenched into a fist.
"Bella," he sighed. "I'm not going to solder it to your finger. Just try it on so I can see if it needs to be sized. Then you can take it right off."
"Fine," I grumbled.
I reached for the ring, but his long fingers beat me there. He took my left hand in his, and slid the ring into place on my third finger. He held my hand out, and we both examined the oval sparkling against my skin. It wasn't quite as awful as I'd feared, having it there.
"A perfect fit," he said indifferently. "That's nice -- saves me a trip to the jeweler's."
I could hear some strong emotion burning under the casual tone of his voice, and I stared up at his face. It was there in his eyes, too, visible despite the careful nonchalance of his expression.
"You like that, don't you?" I asked suspiciously, fluttering my fingers and thinking that it was really too bad that I had not broken my left hand.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Sure," he said, still casual. "It looks very nice on you."
I stared into his eyes, trying to decipher the emotion that smoldered just under the surface. He gazed back, and the casual pretense suddenly slipped away. He was glowing -- his angel's face brilliant with joy and victory. He was so glorious that it knocked me breathless.
Before I could catch that breath, he was kissing me, his lips exultant. I was lightheaded when he moved his mouth to whisper in my ear -- but his breathing was just as ragged as mine.
"Yes, I like it. You have no idea."
I laughed, gasping a little. "I believe you."
"Do you mind if I do something?" he murmured, his arms tightening around me.
"Anything you want."
But he let me go and slid away.
"Anything but that," I complained.
He ignored me, taking my hand and pulling me off the bed, too. He stood in front of me, hands on my shoulders, face serious.
"Now, I want to do this right. Please, please, keep in mind that you've already agreed to this, and don't ruin it for me."
"Oh, no," I gasped as he slid down onto one knee.
"Be nice," he muttered.
I took a deep breath.
"Isabella Swan?" He looked up at me through his impossibly long lashes, his golden eyes soft but, somehow, still scorching. "I promise to love you forever -- every single day of forever. Will you marry me?"
There were many things I wanted to say, some of them not nice at all, and others more disgustingly gooey and romantic than he probably dreamed I was capable of. Rather than embarrass myself with either, I whispered, "Yes."
"Thank you," he said simply. He took my left hand and kissed each of my fingertips before he kissed the ring that was now mine.
21. TRAILS
I HATED TO WASTE ANY PART OF THE NIGHT IN SLEEP, but that was inevitable. The sun was bright outside the window-wall when I woke, with small clouds scuttling too quickly across the sky. The wind rocked the treetops till the whole forest looked as if it was going to shake apart.
He left me alone to get dressed, and I appreciated the chance to think. Somehow, my plan for last night had gone horribly awry, and I needed come to grips with the consequences. Though I'd given back the hand-me-down ring as soon as I could do it without hurting his feelings, my left hand felt heavie
r, like it was still in place, just invisible.
This shouldn't bother me, I reasoned. It was no big thing -- a road trip to Vegas. I would go one better than old jeans -- I would wear old sweats. The ceremony certainly couldn't take very long; no more than fifteen minutes at the most, right? So I could handle that.
And then, when it was over, he'd have to fulfill his side of the bargain. I would concentrate on that, and forget the rest.
He said I didn't have to tell anyone, and I was planning to hold him to that. Of course, it was very stupid of me not to think of Alice.
The Cullens got home around noon. There was a new, businesslike feel to the atmosphere around them, and it pulled me back into the enormity of what was coming.
Alice seemed to be in an unusually bad mood. I chalked it up to her frustration with feeling normal, because her first words to Edward were a complaint about working with the wolves.
"I think" -- she made a face as she used the uncertain word -- "that you're going to want to pack for cold weather, Edward. I can't see where you are exactly, because you're taking off with that dog this afternoon. But the storm that's coming seems particularly bad in that general area."
Edward nodded.
"It's going to snow on the mountains," she warned him.
"Ew, snow," I muttered to myself. It was June, for crying out loud.
"Wear a jacket," Alice told me. Her voice was unfriendly, and that surprised me. I tried to read her face, but she turned away.
I looked at Edward, and he was smiling; whatever was bugging Alice amused him.
Edward had more than enough camping gear to choose from -- props in the human charade; the Cullens were good customers at the Newton's store. He grabbed a down sleeping bag, a small tent, and several packets of dehydrated food -- grinning when I made a face at them -- and stuffed them all in a backpack.
Alice wandered into the garage while we were there, watching Edward's preparations without a word. He ignored her.
When he was done packing, Edward handed me his phone. "Why don't you call Jacob and tell him we'll be ready for him in an hour or so. He knows where to meet us."
Jacob wasn't home, but Billy promised to call around until he could find an available werewolf to pass the news to.
"Don't you worry about Charlie, Bella," Billy said. "I've got my part of this under control."
"Yeah, I know Charlie'll be fine." I didn't feel so confident about his son's safety, but I didn't add that.
"I wish I could be with the rest of them tomorrow." Billy chuckled regretfully. "Being an old man is a hardship, Bella."
The urge to fight must be a defining characteristic of the Y chromosome. They were all the same.
"Have fun with Charlie."
"Good luck, Bella," he answered. "And . . . pass that along to the, er, Cullens for me."
"I will," I promised, surprised by the gesture.
As I gave the phone back to Edward, I saw that he and Alice were having some kind of silent discussion. She was staring at him, pleading in her eyes. He was frowning back, unhappy with whatever she wanted.
"Billy said to tell you 'good luck.'"
"That was generous of him," Edward said, breaking away from her.
"Bella, could I please speak to you alone?" Alice asked swiftly.
"You're about to make my life harder than it needs to be, Alice," Edward warned her through his teeth. "I'd really rather you didn't."
"This isn't about you, Edward," she shot back.
He laughed. Something about her response was funny to him.
"It's not," Alice insisted. "This is a female thing."
He frowned.
"Let her talk to me," I told him. I was curious.
"You asked for it," he muttered. He laughed again -- half angry, half amused -- and strode out of the garage.
I turned to Alice, worried now, but she didn't look at me. Her bad mood hadn't passed yet.
She went to sit on the hood of her Porsche, her face dejected. I followed, and leaned against the bumper beside her.
"Bella?" Alice asked in a sad voice, shifting over and curling up against my side. Her voice sounded so miserable that I wrapped my arms around her shoulders in comfort.
"What's wrong, Alice?"
"Don't you love me?" she asked in that same sad tone.
"Of course I do. You know that."
"Then why do I see you sneaking off to Vegas to get married without inviting me?"
"Oh," I muttered, my cheeks turning pink. I could see that I had seriously hurt her feelings, and I hurried to defend myself. "You know how I hate to make a big deal out of things. It was Edward's idea, anyway."
"I don't care whose idea it was. How could you do this to me? I expect that kind of thing from Edward, but not from you. I love you like you were my own sister."
"To me, Alice, you are my sister."
"Words!" she growled.
"Fine, you can come. There won't be much to see."
She was still grimacing.
"What?" I demanded.
"How much do you love me, Bella?"
"Why?"
She stared at me with pleading eyes, her long black eyebrows slanting up in the middle and pulling together, her lips trembling at the corners. It was a heart-breaking expression.
"Please, please, please," she whispered. "Please, Bella, please -- if you really love me . . . Please let me do your wedding."
"Aw, Alice!" I groaned, pulling away and standing up. "No! Don't do this to me."
"If you really, truly love me, Bella."
I folded my arms across my chest. "That is so unfair. And Edward kind of already used that one on me."
"I'll bet Edward would like it better if you did this traditionally, though he'd never tell you that. And Esme -- think what it would mean to her!"
I groaned. "I'd rather face the newborns alone."
"I'll owe you for a decade."
"You'd owe me for a century!"
Her eyes glowed. "Is that a yes?"
"No! I don't want to do this!"
"You won't have to do anything but walk a few yards and then repeat after the minister."
"Ugh! Ugh, ugh!"
"Please?" She started bouncing in place. "Please, please, please, please, please?"
"I'll never, never ever forgive you for this, Alice."
"Yay!" she squealed, clapping her hands together.
"That's not a yes!"
"But it will be," she sang.
"Edward!" I yelled, stalking out of the garage. "I know you're listening. Get over here." Alice was right behind me, still clapping.
"Thanks so much, Alice," Edward said acidly, coming from behind me. I turned to let him have it, but his expression was so worried and upset that I couldn't speak my complaints. I threw my arms around him instead, hiding my face, just in case the angry moisture in my eyes made it look like I was crying.
"Vegas," Edward promised in my ear.
"Not a chance," Alice gloated. "Bella would never do that to me. You know, Edward, as a brother, you are sometimes a disappointment."
"Don't be mean," I grumbled at her. "He's trying to make me happy, unlike you."
"I'm trying to make you happy, too, Bella. It's just that I know better what will make you happy . . . in the long run. You'll thank me for this. Maybe not for fifty years, but definitely someday."
"I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be willing to take a bet against you, Alice, but it has arrived."
She laughed her silvery laugh. "So, are you going to show me the ring?"
I grimaced in horror as she grabbed my left hand and then dropped it just as quickly.
"Huh. I saw him put it on you. . . . Did I miss something?" she asked. She concentrated for half a second, furrowing her brow, before she answered her own questions. "No. Wedding's still on."
"Bella has issues with jewelry," Edward explained.
"What's one more diamond? Well, I guess the ring has lots of diamonds, but my point is that he's al
ready got one on --"
"Enough, Alice!" Edward cut her off suddenly. The way he glared at her . . . he looked like a vampire again. "We're in a hurry."
"I don't understand. What's that about diamonds?" I asked.
"We'll talk about it later," Alice said. "Edward is right -- you'd better get going. You've got to set a trap and make camp before the storm comes." She frowned, and her expression was anxious, almost nervous. "Don't forget your coat, Bella. It seems . . . unseasonably cold."
"I've already got it," Edward assured her.
"Have a nice night," she told us in farewell.
It was twice as far to the clearing as usual; Edward took a long detour, making sure my scent would be nowhere near the trail Jacob would hide later. He carried me in his arms, the bulky backpack in my usual spot.
He stopped at the farthest end of the clearing and set me on my feet.
"All right. Just walk north for a ways, touching as much as you can. Alice gave me a clear picture of their path, and it won't take long for us to intersect it."
"North?"
He smiled and pointed out the right direction.
I wandered into the woods, leaving the clear yellow light of the strangely sunny day in the clearing behind me. Maybe Alice's blurred sight would be wrong about the snow. I hoped so. The sky was mostly clear, though the wind whipped furiously through the open spaces. In the trees it was calmer, but much too cold for June -- even in a long-sleeved shirt with a thick sweater over the top, there were goose bumps on my arms. I walked slowly, trailing my fingers over anything close enough: the rough tree bark, the wet ferns, the moss-covered rocks.
Edward stayed with me, walking a parallel line about twenty yards away.
"Am I doing this right?" I called.
"Perfectly."
I had an idea. "Will this help?" I asked as I ran my fingers through my hair and caught a few loose strands. I draped them over the ferns.
"Yes, that does make the trail stronger. But you don't need to pull your hair out, Bella. It will be fine."
"I've got a few extras I can spare."
It was gloomy under the trees, and I wished I could walk closer to Edward and hold his hand.
I wedged another hair into a broken branch that cut through my path.
"You don't need to let Alice have her way, you know," Edward said.
"Don't worry about it, Edward. I'm not going to leave you at the altar, regardless." I had a sinking feeling that Alice was going to get her way, mostly because she was totally unscrupulous when there was something she wanted, and also because I was a sucker for guilt trips.
"That's not what I'm worried about. I want this to be what you want it to be."