Jacob hurried me out the door, and insisted on driving again. We were halfway to the hospital when I realized he was still shirtless.

I frowned guiltily. “We should have grabbed you a jacket.”

“That would have given us away,” he teased. “Besides, it’s not cold.”

“Are you kidding?” I shivered and reached out to turn the heat on.

I watched Jacob to see if he was just playing tough so I wouldn’t worry, but he looked comfortable enough. He had one arm over the back of my seat, though I was huddled up to keep warm.

Jacob really did look older than sixteen—not quite forty, but maybe older than me. Quil didn’t have too much on him in the muscle department, for all that Jacob claimed to be a skeleton. The muscles were the long wiry kind, but they were definitely there under the smooth skin. His skin was such a pretty color, it made me jealous.

Jacob noticed my scrutiny.

“What?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing. I just hadn’t realized before. Did you know, you’re sort of beautiful?”

Once the words slipped out, I worried that he might take my impulsive observation the wrong way.

But Jacob just rolled his eyes. “You hit your head pretty hard, didn’t you?”

“I’m serious.”

“Well, then, thanks. Sort of.”

I grinned. “You’re sort of welcome.”

I had to have seven stitches to close the cut on my forehead. After the sting of the local anesthetic, there was no pain in the procedure. Jacob held my hand while Dr. Snow was sewing, and I tried not to think about why that was ironic.

We were at the hospital forever. By the time I was done, I had to drop Jacob off at his home and hurry back to cook dinner for Charlie. Charlie seemed to buy my story about falling in Jacob’s garage. After all, it wasn’t like I hadn’t been able to land myself in the ER before with no more help than my own feet.

This night was not as bad as that first night, after I’d heard the perfect voice in Port Angeles. The hole came back, the way it always did when I was away from Jacob, but it didn’t throb so badly around the edges. I was already planning ahead, looking forward to more delusions, and that was a distraction. Also, I knew I would feel better tomorrow when I was with Jacob again. That made the empty hole and the familiar pain easier to bear; relief was in sight. The nightmare, too, had lost a little of its potency. I was horrified by the nothingness, as always, but I was also strangely impatient as I waited for the moment that would send me screaming into consciousness. I knew the nightmare had to end.

The next Wednesday, before I could get home from the ER, Dr. Gerandy called to warn my father that I might possibly have a concussion and advised him to wake me up every two hours through the night to make sure it wasn’t serious. Charlie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at my weak explanation about tripping again.

“Maybe you should just stay out of the garage altogether, Bella,” he suggested that night during dinner.

I panicked, worried that Charlie was about to lay down some kind of edict that would prohibit La Push, and consequently my motorcycle. And I wasn’t giving it up—I’d had the most amazing hallucination today. My velvet-voiced delusion had yelled at me for almost five minutes before I’d hit the brake too abruptly and launched myself into the tree. I’d take whatever pain that would cause me tonight without complaint.

“This didn’t happen in the garage,” I protested quickly. “We were hiking, and I tripped over a rock.”

“Since when do you hike?” Charlie asked skeptically.

“Working at Newton’s was bound to rub off sometime,” I pointed out. “Spend every day selling all the virtues of the outdoors, eventually you get curious.”

Charlie glared at me, unconvinced.

“I’ll be more careful,” I promised, surreptitiously crossing my fingers under the table.

“I don’t mind you hiking right there around La Push, but keep close to town, okay?”

“Why?”

“Well, we’ve been getting a lot of wildlife complaints lately. The forestry department is going to check into it, but for the time being . . .”

“Oh, the big bear,” I said with sudden comprehension. “Yeah, some of the hikers coming through Newton’s have seen it. Do you think there’s really some giant mutated grizzly out there?”

His forehead creased. “There’s something. Keep it close to town, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” I said quickly. He didn’t look completely appeased.

“Charlie’s getting nosy,” I complained to Jacob when I picked him up after school Friday.

“Maybe we should cool it with the bikes.” He saw my objecting expression and added, “At least for a week or so. You could stay out of the hospital for a week, right?”

“What are we going to do?” I griped.

He smiled cheerfully. “What ever you want.”

I thought about that for a minute—about what I wanted.

I hated the idea of losing even my brief seconds of closeness with the memories that didn’t hurt—the ones that came on their own, without me thinking of them consciously. If I couldn’t have the bikes, I was going to have to find some other avenue to the danger and the adrenaline, and that was going to take serious thought and creativity. Doing nothing in the meantime was not appealing. Suppose I got depressed again, even with Jake? I had to keep occupied.

Maybe there was some other way, some other recipe… some other place.

The house had been a mistake, certainly. But his presence must be stamped somewhere, somewhere other than inside me. There had to be a place where he seemed more real than among all the familiar landmarks that were crowded with other human memories.

I could think of one place where that might hold true. One place that would always belong to him and no one else. A magic place, full of light. The beautiful meadow I’d seen only once in my life, lit by sunshine and the sparkle of his skin.

This idea had a huge potential for backfiring—it might be dangerously painful. My chest ached with emptiness even to think of it. It was hard to hold myself upright, to not give myself away. But surely, there of all places, I could hear his voice. And Ialready told Charlie I was hiking….

“What are you thinking about so hard?” Jacob asked.

“Well…,” I began slowly. “I found this place in the forest once—I came across it when I was, um, hiking. A little meadow, the most beautiful place. I don’t know if I could track it down again on my own. It would definitely take a few tries….”

“We could use a compass and a grid pattern,” Jacob said with confident helpfulness. “Do you know where you started from?”

“Yes, just below the trailhead where the one-ten ends. I was going mostly south, I think.”

“Cool. We’ll find it.” As always, Jacob was game for anything I wanted. No matter how strange it was.

So, Saturday afternoon, I tied on my new hiking boots—purchased that morning using my twenty-percent-off employee discount for the first time—grabbed my new topographical map of the Olympic Peninsula, and drove to La Push.

We didn’t get started immediately; first, Jacob sprawled across the living room floor—taking up the whole room—and, for a full twenty minutes, drew a complicated web across the key section of the map while I perched on a kitchen chair and talked to Billy. Billy didn’t seem at all concerned about our proposed hiking trip. I was surprised that Jacob had told him where we were going, given the fuss people were making about the bear sightings. I wanted to ask Billy not to say anything about this to Charlie, but I was afraid that making the request would cause the opposite result.

“Maybe we’ll see the super bear,” Jacob joked, eyes on his design.

I glanced at Billy swiftly, fearing a Charlie-style reaction.

But Billy just laughed at his son. “Maybe you should take a jar of honey, just in case.”

Jake chuckled. “Hope your new boots are fast, Bella. One little jar isn’t going to keep a hungry bear occupied for long.”

“I only have to be faster than you.”

“Good luck with that!” Jacob said, rolling his eyes as he refolded the map. “Let’s go.”

“Have fun,” Billy rumbled, wheeling himself toward the refrigerator.

Charlie was not a hard person to live with, but it looked to me like Jacob had it even easier than I did.

I drove to the very end of the dirt road, stopping near the sign that marked the beginning of the trailhead. It had been a long time since I’d been here, and my stomach reacted nervously. This might be a very bad thing. But it would be worth it, if I got to hear him.

I got out and looked at the dense wall of green.

“I went this way,” I murmured, pointing straight ahead.

“Hmm,” Jake muttered.

“What?”

He looked at the direction I’d pointed, then at the clearly marked trail, and back.

“I would have figured you for a trail kind of girl.”

“Not me.” I smiled bleakly. “I’m a rebel.”

He laughed, and then pulled out our map.

“Give me a second.” He held the compass in a skilled way, twisting the map around till it angled the way he wanted.

“Okay—first line on the grid. Let’s do it.”

I could tell that I was slowing Jacob up, but he didn’t complain. I tried not to dwell on my last trip through this part of the forest, with a very different companion. Normal memories were still dangerous. If I let myself slip up, I’d end up with my arms clutching my chest to hold it together, gasping for air, and how would I explain that to Jacob?

It wasn’t as hard as I would have thought to keep focused on the present. The forest looked a lot like any other part of the peninsula, and Jacob set a vastly different mood.

He whistled cheerfully, an unfamiliar tune, swinging his arms and moving easily through the rough undergrowth. The shadows didn’t seem as dark as usual. Not with my personal sun along.

Jacob checked the compass every few minutes, keeping us in a straight line with one of the radiating spokes of his grid. He really looked like he knew what he was doing. I was going to compliment him, but I caught myself. No doubt he’d add another few years to his inflated age.

My mind wandered as I walked, and I grew curious. I hadn’t forgotten the conversation we’d had by the sea cliffs—I’d been waiting for him to bring it up again, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen.

“Hey…Jake?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“How are things…with Embry? Is he back to normal yet?”

Jacob was silent for a minute, still moving forward with long paces. When he was about ten feet ahead, he stopped to wait for me.

“No. He’s not back to normal,” Jacob said when I reached him, his mouth pulling down at the corners. He didn’t start walking again. I immediately regretted bringing it up.

“Still with Sam.”

“Yup.”

He put his arm around my shoulder, and he looked so troubled that I didn’t playfully shake it off, as I might have otherwise.

“Are they still looking at you funny?” I half-whispered.

Jacob stared through the trees. “Sometimes.”

“And Billy?”

“As helpful as ever,” he said in a sour, angry voice that disturbed me.

“Our couch is always open,” I offered.

He laughed, breaking out of the unnatural gloom. “But think of the position that would put Charlie in—when Billy calls the police to report my kidnapping.”

I laughed too, glad to have Jacob back to normal.

We stopped when Jacob said we’d gone six miles, cut west for a short time, and headed back along another line of his grid. Everything looked exactly the same as the way in, and I had a feeling that my silly quest was pretty much doomed. I admitted as much when it started to get darker, the sunless day fading toward a starless night, but Jacob was more confident.

“As long as you’re sure we’re starting from the right place . . .” He glanced down at me.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then we’ll find it,” he promised, grabbing my hand and pulling me through a mass of ferns. On the other side was the truck. He gestured toward it proudly. “Trust me.”

“You’re good,” I admitted. “Next time we bring flashlights, though.”

“We’ll save hiking for Sundays from now on. I didn’t know you were that slow.”

I yanked my hand back and stomped around to the driver’s side while he chuckled at my reaction.

“So you up for another try tomorrow?” he asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Sure. Unless you want to go without me so I don’t tie you down to my gimpy pace.”

“I’ll survive,” he assured me. “If we’re hiking again, though, you might want to pick up some moleskin. I bet you can feel those new boots right now.”

“A little,” I confessed. It felt like I had more blisters than I had space to fit them.

“I hope we see the bear tomorrow. I’m sort of disappointed about that.”

“Yes, me, too,” I agreed sarcastically. “Maybe we’ll get lucky tomorrow and something will eat us!”

“Bears don’t want to eat people. We don’t taste that good.” He grinned at me in the dark cab. “Of course, you might be an exception. I bet you’d taste good.”

“Thanks so much,” I said, looking away. He wasn’t the first person to tell me that.