A FATHER'S RESCUE
Chapter Sixteen

Caledon Hockley slumped in a recliner in his father's study, stale cigar smoke drifting around his head. He hadn't bothered to empty the ashtray on the antique desk since early that morning, nor had he changed from the somber attire he'd worn since yesterday's memorial service. In his right hand he clutched a photograph in a silver frame. It would appear to a visitor that Cal was staring at the picture of the beautiful young girl, but he was in fact looking at nothing. He just couldn't bring himself to let go of the picture.

A soft knock came at the door. "Mr. Hockley?" It was Harold, Nathan Hockley's manservant. He'd been a part of the family since before Cal was born, yet Cal's father insisted he remember his place at all times. He would never enter the study without invitation.

"Go away, Harold! I won't be needing any supper."

"I'm sorry, sir, but you have a visitor. It's a young woman and she insists upon seeing you. She says it's an urgent matter and she won't leave."

"Show her the door," Cal retorted angrily. "I cannot see anyone today."

Harold opened the door and stepped cautiously inside. Cal glared at the servant, who had never before disobeyed an order. He looked nervous as he cleared his throat.

"I am terribly sorry, sir, but I do believe you'll want to see this woman. She said to tell you she has news about Rose."

"In that case, send her in, please."

Cal knew he should at least ask the woman's name before she joined him. It was proper. But he didn't care. That was the least important thing right now. He wanted any news he could get, no matter where it came from.

Cal was still musing when the woman came in. She didn't offer her name, simply told him that she knew where Rose was, and that her father was with her. Cal took this in, then asked how she had managed to locate him.

"I have my ways," was all she would say.

Cal then asked for some proof that this woman's fellow tenant really was Rose. At this question, she pointed at the framed photograph that was once again resting on the desk. "That's her," she said firmly. "She's lost some weight, but I'm sure. She's in the hospital right now, but it looks like she'll be fine."

"The hospital? What's wrong with her?"

"Pneumonia. At least she was in there when I left, she could be out now. That was a while ago."

"I see. I thank you for coming. Where is it you traveled from?"

"New York City." She gave him the address. "I'll be heading back as soon as I leave here. Will you be coming, or don't you believe me?"

"I do..."

"Frances," the woman finally volunteered.

"Frances. Yes, I'll be coming. I have to. As much for my sake as her mother's. She's been terribly depressed since we came back."

Frances listened impatiently, then said, "Well, I suppose you'll be needing some time to get ready to go. We shouldn't travel together anyway. But I will be seeing you in several days, I'm sure."

"Yes, yes. Thank you again. You have no idea how I appreciate it."

Frances mumbled some reply Cal did not hear and left. Even she didn't like the smile that crossed his face as she exited.

As soon as the door closed behind his guest, Cal leaped to his feet, rejuvenated. His Rose was alive, alive! He'd always known it, deep down somewhere, even though he'd searched every inch of the Carpathia for her after the sinking–even among the steerage filth–and never found her, and pored over every Titanic survivor list once they were in New York, only to discover that not one contained her name.

She was a clever one, that Rose. She'd probably changed her name and was now hiding in a miserable boarding house with the likes of that whore who'd just come to see him. That one would be expecting money, of course, what else would have brought her all the way to Pittsburgh? He'd see to it that she was well compensated. It would be worth the trouble just to see his fiancée get her just desserts for abandoning his side to be with that–

Jack!

Cal froze. What if that nuisance was with her? Frances had only mentioned Rose's father–which was odd enough in itself–but that didn't mean anything. Her visit could have just been a setup. Perhaps they needed money, and this was all just a trap to lure him back to New York and blackmail him. If his conduct on board the sinking ship were revealed to the public, his reputation would be ruined. Not only that, but he'd become the laughingstock of society for losing his fiancée to a penniless ne'er-do-well like Dawson. It was a risk he could not afford.

If Rose survived, then Jack Dawson could have survived as well. Perhaps I need to finish what I started, Cal thought, as he began to search the study for his father's pistol.

*****

"Rosie? Can you hear me? Please answer me!"

His daughter's only response was to begin shivering violently. Michael jumped from his chair and ran into the hallway, shouting for a nurse until he was hoarse.

Chapter Seventeen
Stories