JACK'S ROSE
Chapter Seventeen

 

Rose hurried down the snow-covered road, completely bundled up in heavy coats, shirts, trousers, thick boots, and socks, with a wool hat over her head. She felt silly, for it wasn't so cold that all the extra clothing was necessary, but Julia had refused to let her out of the house in anything less.

But her mind was elsewhere. The sweat dripping down her back went unnoticed. She was thinking about William. How would she ever tell him she was pregnant?

Pregnant. A woman could only get pregnant one way. And she wouldn't lie about it. She could never say that it had been anything else but her choice.

Oh, how strange life can be.

Would he think her dishonorable now? Would he abandon her? Would everything she knew was forming between them suddenly vanish as if it had never existed?

But wouldn't it serve her right?

Rose paused in the middle of the road and turned her eyes to the clear sky. The sun warmed her face while her feet were still chilled from the snow and ice beneath them. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to once more collect her thoughts.

But then, how would that serve her right? When she had made the choice to be with Jack, it had been with the complete sureness and faith that he was the man she would spend the rest of her life with. Then fate and God had given her, along with hundreds of others, a cruel hand. "All life is a game of luck." And, unfortunately, her luck had suddenly left her. Though it had come back when Molly found her, when she found Cora, when she met Henry and Julia by chance. Luck had left her for a night, and in that night, she had lost everything she loved.

Almost.

For the child within her was still very alive, and the kick she felt at that moment was proof of it. God had taken everything from her, except that child. She vowed that she would never leave the child, no matter what.

And suddenly, she was walking up the steps of and entering the warm aromas of the store. William looked up from behind the counter as she entered.

"Rose." He smiled.

"Hello, William," she responded solemnly.

A concerned look crossed his face as he came from behind the counter and stood before her.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, with a voice that echoed his expression.

"There is something I have to tell you."

"Well, tell me." He smiled. "There can't be anything you can tell me that can possible be that bad."

Rose's eyes darted away from his, but he reached forward and gently tilted her face up. William embraced her in a gentle hug and whispered, "Just tell me, Rose. I promise that nothing you can say will drive me away."

She paused, startled for a moment. Her mind reeled. What did he mean? Oh, but that didn't matter right now; she had to tell him what she had come to tell him. Rose inhaled deeply. "I'm pregnant, William."

He pulled away, a strained expression on his face. It was obvious that a fierce battle was happening in his mind, but within a short moment's time, his little half smile crossed his face. "Now, see, Rose? Was that so bad? And you had me thinking that it was something bad."

*****

William lay in bed that night, only half-listening to the sound of the hail from that night's storm pounding against the tin roof above him, for his mind was forever wandering back to that afternoon when Rose had come in the store.

“Just tell me, Rose. I promise nothing you can say will drive me away.”

“I'm pregnant, William.”

Pregnant.

Who was the father? He knew that there had been someone else. The look of sadness that had always been in her eyes, the time he had walked in on her and Julia talking, they were all clues that there had been someone else.

But surely she was not dishonorable. No. He knew she wasn't. Not Rose. Maybe she had been engaged, even married, and for whatever reasons, she had chosen not tell him.

He loved her. He loved Rose Dawson, and he would love the child as if it were his own. He knew the townspeople would not think highly of an unmarried woman having a child. He knew that she would need all the support he could give in the coming times.

And he knew that, as he had told her, nothing she could say, or now, even do, would ever drive him away.

Chapter Eighteen
Stories