A FATHER'S RESCUE
Chapter Twenty-Four

Rose closed her eyes and collapsed to the floor as the awful sound of glass shattering exploded behind her.

When she came to, her mother knelt at her side with smelling salts, gently caressing her face.

"M-mother? What happened? I thought--" Rose tried to lift her head.

"It's all right," Ruth soothed. "He won't be coming back."

She explained what happened: she and Michael came upstairs looking for Rose and, hearing the argument in her bedroom, Michael had immediately run for his gun, still kept in a desk drawer in his study. He returned just in time to see Cal bearing his own weapon, and fired. But his illness had hurt his aim; the bullet missed Cal by mere inches and had instead shattered the vanity mirror.

A shaken Cal had confessed to climbing into the house through an open window, with the intention of forcibly taking Rose back to Pittsburgh with him. He seemed ashamed of his actions, and frightened of Michael, but Bukater was taking no chances. He had phoned Nathan Hockley and informed him of his son's actions, and as of this moment was driving Cal to the local police station to await his father.

Rose panicked. "But then they'll know! Everyone will know we're alive!"

"Rose, it's all right. Cal was the only one you really didn't want to know that. Obviously that's over with now. You father will explain to those people. You need to worry about yourself right now. Are you feeling better?"

"I'm all right. I can get up now, I think." Rose sat up slowly, and saw her mother watching her every move. "Mother, try not to worry. I'm all right. He didn't hurt me."

"I'm sorry, I know I'm hovering. You only just came back here, and I..."

"I know, you can't help it," Rose said gently. "Daddy had to pretty much convince me to come, but now I'm glad I did. Even with what just happened. I...I missed you, and I wondered how you were doing. I'm sorry our talk didn't go better earlier. I didn't come just to be angry at you."

Rose got up, stepped over the glass that still littered the floor, then sat on her bed and looked straight at her mother, waiting for her reply. "I know you didn't, Rose. You said earlier that Jack.. well, would you like to tell me about it? I promise not to interrupt, at least not often. Maybe I didn't like him, but he obviously meant a lot to you. I'd like you to tell me. Please?"

Rose sighed deeply. "All right, I'll tell you as much as I can. I don't know where to begin, Mother," she said after she'd sat perfectly still, staring at the remnants of her broken mirror on the floor, for a full minute. Ruth waited. Do you believe that everyone has a mate, someone they're meant to spend their lives with, and fate will bring them together no matter what their circumstances in life may be? I know it's difficult for you to understand, having had your life practically planned out for you, but I believe that I was meant to be with Jack, and that we would have met elsewhere if not on the ship. You see now how Cal really treated me. And Jack was the opposite--good-natured and loving and completely carefree. We enjoyed so many adventures in two days and never left that ship. He set me free."

Ruth sniffed. "I'm sure he did. Sketching you in that vulgar pose the way he did."

"It wasn't vulgar, Mother. It was art. Jack's drawings were some of the best I've seen, and I asked him to draw me." She paused, adding sadly, "And now they're all gone."

Her lower lip quivered, and she took a deep breath to stop the tears, but they came anyway. She hid her eyes in the handkerchief her mother gave her.

"I promised him I wouldn't do this," she sobbed. "When a piece of wood was all that kept me from drowning, he made me promise to live the life we'd planned to share, even though I would have to do it alone. So from now on I'm living for the both of us." She looked at Ruth with determination. "Daddy and I are going to try to make a life for ourselves in California, so he can get the rest he deserves."

"Rose, I was hoping you would both stay, for a little while."

"We might. We aren't in a rush. I think both he and I need to feel better before we can travel again."

"Your father seems just fine. Did something happen to him, lately?"

"Yes, I saw him when I was in the hospital. It's something with his heart. He doesn't complain, but he also doesn't see a doctor like he should."

"He can always see our doctor. What were you in the hospital for?"

"I had pneumonia. I'm much better now. I just feel a little overtired, sometimes. Daddy worries about it, as if I were still a little girl. But I don't mind. I know he does it because he loves me. And he's much sicker that I am. I'll be fine, eventually, but he...he says he doesn't know if he will or not."

"Thank you for telling me. I knew he was sick when he left, but I thought perhaps he was better now. He seems so...cheerful."

"He is. He's glad to be with both of us. He missed you."

"He what?"

"He missed you, Mother. I know, he would never admit it, but he still loves you. I can tell by how hurt he was that you were so willing to send him away and pretend he'd died. And for money!"

Ruth looked away. "You wouldn't understand, Rose. You're--"

"I'm an adult who can make up her own mind. Haven't the past few weeks proven that?"

Ruth sighed. "They've proven that you're much too headstrong and impulsive. But I suppose we must put that in the past," she interjected quickly. "You've obviously made up your mind that you want to live as far away from me as possible, and I can't convince you otherwise."

"I want you to come with us," Rose said.

Ruth stared at her, mouth agape. Finally she shook her head, "That would be impossible."

"Why?" Rose persisted. "What do you have here? An empty life surrounded by shallow people. None of your family live here. You can start over out West."

"Start over? I'm too old to begin a new life."

"Nonsense!" Rose suddenly felt warmth flooding into her entire being, sudden inspiration and exhilaration that she would come to recognize as joy. "You can do anything you wish. Sell this stuffy house and everything in it, and tell all those inbred socialites to kiss your fanny!"

Ruth gasped and objected as Rose suddenly pulled her to her feet, but her daughter ignored her protests.

"We can live as a family again," Rose sang. "A real family, this time. Come Mother, let's plan."

Chapter Twenty-Five
Stories