A FATHER'S RESCUE
Chapter Twenty-Three

Rose was just as surprised as everyone else. She could only watch as Cal took his leave, deciding it was best to cease his interference at this family gathering. She then turned back to her mother, waiting to see what she would say next.

"I'm sorry he treated you like that, Rose. I would hope he won't be coming back. It seems like he took me seriously. You really don't look that well, is something bothering you?"

"I wouldn't say that. I feel all right, even if I look pale or something like that. Like Daddy said, I was in the hospital just lately. But I'm fine, or they wouldn't have let me out."

Michael knew very well that the trip had been hard on Rose, but he stayed quiet. Rose knew enough to say something if she was feeling sick, and Ruth didn't need anything else to worry over.

But something wasn't right. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach--a mild dread, almost as frightening as when she was boarding the Titanic. But she didn't know exactly what it was. She chalked it up to the nervous anticipation she'd felt all day since deciding to make this journey.

"Well, I suppose there's no sense in inviting you to sleep in your own bed tonight," Ruth was saying. "You've made it clear that you want no part of me or of your life in Philadelphia--"

"No, that's not true at all," Rose cut in quickly. "I mean, my life has changed drastically, yes, but there can still be room for you in it. I just need you to accept that I can no longer play the role of the society princess. I am my own person and I have plans for my life. To study art and drama, to see the world." She paused. "To marry whomever and whenever I choose. If you can accept these things you will always be welcome in my life."

Ruth stood and walked slowly to the fireplace, standing with her back turned to them for a long moment. Finally, with her back still turned, she addressed her daughter.

"Where will you go? How will you survive?"

"I'm going to be looking for a job so I can save money and find a better place to live. I think I will be going back to New York, but if it's all right, I...I would like to stay here for a few days. It will be nice to sleep in my own bed again."

Ruth smiled very slightly, as she turned around. "Of course you can. What about you, Michael? Will you be staying here?"

"Yes. I think it will be very good for all of us to be here together again. It's been such a long time." He sighed. "But you could definitely say that is my own fault. We can talk about that later, Ruth, if you like."

She only studied his face intently; Michael knew Ruth well enough to immediately comprehend that that meant yes. "For now, why don't we see if there is something on hand for a meal. It was a bit of a longer trip than both of us expected."

Rose decided to leave them alone for a moment and give herself some time to recover. She excused herself, saying she wanted to freshen up, and slowly climbed the stairs to her old room.

It was just as she'd left it before departing for Europe. Not one item had been touched, and a thin film of dust layered the furniture. The windows were shut and the curtains drawn, and a stale smell hung in the air. It was as if Ruth had known her daughter would come home, and preserved the room accordingly. Rose shuddered.

She had deliberately failed to mention to Ruth that she and her father planned to travel to California. Ruth would want to know why; naturally she would be hurt that they'd want to move so far away so soon after reestablishing ties. But it would be too complicated to explain that it was a journey Rose had planned to share with Jack, and that now that he was gone, his spirit was urging her on, to do the things they'd hoped to do together. It was something Ruth would not comprehend.

Rose could no longer tolerate the stuffy atmosphere of the room. She threw open the curtains at one of the windows, and coughed at the cloud of dust the movement caused.

Suddenly an arm snaked tightly around her waist and a hand was clamped to her mouth.

"You didn't think I was going to let you go that easily, did you?" Cal growled into her ear.

Rose couldn't speak, of course, so she only shook her head. Somewhere inside she had known he would be back. Rose suspected that was what her feeling of dread had been caused by. The thing now was to get him out of here, without taking her away with him.

"You are smart, aren't you? Now, there are some things I want you to listen to. If you can be quiet, I'll take my hand away. If not, things stay like this. Can you be good, or not?"

Rose nodded very quickly, and he removed his hand. Then his tone grew even harsher. "You humiliated me downstairs, Rose. I think you know that. Telling your mother things she had no business hearing about! And dismissing me as if I were completely unimportant. Would you like to know the state your mother would be in right now if it weren't for me?"

Rose considered this. Seeing how her mother had looked even with him here...she slowly shook her head.

"I didn't think so. And what happens when you go back to your other life, Rose? You know as well as I do that you will be better off staying here."

He had adapted the pose of the courtly gentleman that Rose knew all too well--a pose that had caught her off guard many a time. And each time he would slowly work on her, confusing her with his little lies--he made them sound so plausible--until he reeled her in. A regular snake charmer.

"You don't know when to stop, do you?" Rose shook her head in disbelief.

"Please, Rose, I only have your best interests at heart. As I always have. You are very dear to me, and I hate to see you making such a terrible mistake."

"The only mistake I made," she replied, "was to say I would marry you."

Cal flinched and she saw a trace of the violence he was trying so mightily to restrain flash across his features for a fraction of a second. But he looked away quickly, and when he turned back to face her he'd regained his composure. "Don't you see what you could be getting yourself into? Your father is...is...insane! He faked his own death, for God's sake. Took off and abandoned you without leaving so much as a note, then discovers you by accident and all of a sudden wants you to leave your mother and your home for a life of poverty in New York! Just like Dawson. And you see what became of your plans with him."

"My father didn't make me leave anywhere! He found me when I was already in New York. He had to convince me to come back here to see Mother. I'm glad to see her, but I don't intend to stay here for good. But that is my choice, not his. As far as Jack is concerned, if it had been up to him, he would be here right now. You have no idea what he went through. You don't even want to know, do you?"

"Honestly, no. But I suppose we will all have to hear about it eventually. You might as well get it over with now."

Rose's eyes flashed fiercely. "I think you are the most insensitive person I've ever known! You don't care to know; I'm not telling you. Only people who care about me deserve to know what...what happened to Jack. Mother and Daddy are expecting me, downstairs..."

"Rose," he sighed. "You didn't really think it would be that easy, did you? I didn't come back only to be dismissed again. You go ahead, call them up here if you like. I don't care who sees me."

"I'm not that stupid. You'll only upset them, and leave me to make up a ridiculous story as to how you got in here! I'm not letting you make a fool of me anymore. You used me, and my mother. But that is over with now. I never want to see you again."

The gentlemanly act was over. In a flash he withdrew from a coat pocket a silver-plated pistol, which he aimed straight at her head.

"I see you won't come to your senses, Sweetpea. I'm sorry to have to do this, but I have a name to protect, and it won't do to have my dead fiancée smearing it at every opportunity."

She was shivering--quaking--in absolute horror, but she stood her ground. He was not going to win this time.

Forcing herself to look him in the eye, she said softly, "My name is not Sweetpea, it's Rose. I really hate it when you call me by that silly pet name."

Was there a hint of uncertainty in his gaze? She really couldn't tell, and while a part of her screamed run, there was another, more outspoken side that said if she ran now, she would be running from Cal for the rest of her life.

"You should have listened to reason, Miss Dawson," he snarled, emphasizing the name. "I won't miss this time."

And the gun went off.

Chapter Twenty-Four
Stories