LOVE LASTS FOR ETERNITY
Chapter Seventeen

May 31, 1912
Chippewa Falls
Jack's POV

I awoke that morning the same way I had just about every morning for the past two weeks or so--to the sound of Rose throwing up violently in the bathroom down the hall. Just over six weeks pregnant, she was experiencing bad morning sickness just about every day.

I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom to find Rose leaning against the wall, holding her forehead. I put my arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

"God, I feel terrible," she groaned, still half-asleep. "Why does having a baby have to be so horrible?" She asked this question almost every day, and I didn't blame her. She looked terrible in the morning now, exhausted and pale as well as tired. She looked especially tired now, with lines under her eyes and her eyelids drooping slightly.

Once she was sure she wasn't going to throw up anymore, Rose went back to bed to catch up on a bit of sleep and I went downstairs to get breakfast started. As I walked down the stairs, I heard the scampering of legs approaching and knew instantly that Honey had woken up.

She was now about three months old, and growing. No longer a tiny puppy who needed help to climb up the stairs, Honey was now around one and a half feet high with a slender body. Her coat more golden than ever.

She came stampeding out of the parlor, where she now slept, and jumped up on me as I entered the room. I gently but firmly pushed her down and scolded her. I hated scolding her, but she was now at an age where she had to learn these things. She was getting into the habit of jumping up on people as they walked past and we needed to break this habit as soon as possible. When I scolded her, she whined and gave me her biggest, saddest eyes. Never able to stay angry at her for long, I knelt down and gave her a belly rub.

Honey followed me into the kitchen, expecting her breakfast. I served her some chicken from the icebox and another bowl of water, which she consumed hungrily. I cut a few slices of bread and began to toast them. Rose never felt up to eating much in the morning because of the morning sickness, but I could usually persuade her to eat some toast for the baby's sake.

While the bread was toasting, I went out to the mailbox and brought in yesterday’s mail. There was a newspaper and a few letters. One of them was an advertisement, another was a reply from a dog trainer I had written to for training advice, and one was a letter addressed to Rose--with a New York postmark. I took the mail into the kitchen. The advertisement, which was trying to sell Mr. Thompson’s produce, was automatically added to the tinder box--we saved all burnable scraps for the fire. I put Rose's letter on the side for her when she woke up, and I sat down at the table to read the reply from the dog trainer.

I'd written to him because exercising some control over Honey was proving harder than we thought it would be. We had decided when we first got her that we would be firm with our puppy and make sure she was well-behaved, but it was proving quite difficult to scold her when she would whine and give us her big, sad eyes whenever we did. She would take offense at the slightest scolding and turn her back to us, sulking. It pained both Rose and me to see her this way and we found ourselves giving into her demands simply to prevent the sad eyes.

I read the letter from the dog trainer thoroughly, determined to find a friendly way to train our dog.

The letter read:

When it comes to training a dog, it is like dealing with a child. You mustn't spoil it, but you mustn't give it the impression that you hate it, either. It's important to get the balance between love and discipline just right. If the balance isn't right, the dog will either resent you or be spoiled.

When you find your dog doing something you do not approve of, firmly stop it, get them to look straight at you, and firmly tell them no with a single swat on the rump. If your dog sulks at this or acts sad, do not fall for it. Just ignore it and carry on with whatever you are doing. Then, the next time you see your dog, be friendly and carry on as if the scolding never happened. Carry on this routine until the dog learns that doing the offense will result in a scolding.

Remember, when scolding your dog, always do it responsibly. Act firmly, but do not get carried away and frighten your dog into obedience. Never swat your dog more than necessary--preferably only once or maybe twice--and do not hold a grudge against your dog. Act as though dealing with a child. You would not frighten your child into obeying you or slap the child more than necessary, so do not do it to the dog.

By following these rules, you will hopefully train your dog into obeying you. Do not expect it to happen overnight. It will take time for the lesson to sink in, but do not give up after just a few days or weeks.

I read the letter thoroughly, making sure I had memorized everything. When I was sure I had, I put the letter away and finished off making breakfast. Then I cleaned Honey's food bowl out and was putting it away when Rose came into the kitchen, looking a little better than when she was throwing up.

"Morning," she said sleepily, still waking up.

"Morning," I replied, giving her a kiss as she sat down. She didn't look like she wanted to eat anything, but she reluctantly nibbled a piece of toast for the baby's sake. Honey came over and nuzzled Rose's hand as she ate, sensing that she was unhappy. She usually was these days, but only in the morning, which was understandable for a pregnant woman. She was always back to her normal, cheerful self around late morning. I knew she would cheer up extra fast today. We were going to a livestock sale to buy a few animals for the farm.

We were still building our savings, but we now had a steady income with two jobs. Rose insisted on still working full time, despite my best efforts to persuade her otherwise, and together with my wages, we had a bit of money in the bank now. We had also received a little present from Molly.

We had sent her a letter, inviting her to the wedding when the date was decided, and she had sent us back a letter of congratulations and an early wedding gift of five hundred dollars, a gift we both would have tried to refuse if it was given to us in person. This, added to the money from Cal's coat and both our wages, gave us a fair amount of money. Enough to start off small with the farm, and hopefully enough for both the wedding and for the baby, when the time came.

After breakfast, Rose, Honey, and I rode Thunder to the neighboring town, Eau Claire, where the livestock sale was. I had been to the sale a few times when I was little and knew how to get the best buys. There was a choice of either a live auction or a private sale. A live auction was good if you weren't too picky about your animals, but if you wanted to choose your animals and have a certainly of buying them, a private sale was better. We decided we would go for a private sale.

We had planned to buy one breeding pair of cattle and one breeding pair of sheep to get started. We also knew that we wanted to buy one more horse. We now had Thunder living in the stable, but he was lonely and bored by himself all day in the paddock, so we decided to buy him a friend--and hopefully, a breeding mate. I knew from experience that when buying animals, it was important not to get carried away and go on a spending spree. After all, as my dad had told me at a sale once, it might seem like a bargain at the time, but animals cost money to keep.

The sale was busy that day, with a large selection of animals up for auction, and even more people looking to bid and buy. Loose dogs darted between people's legs and the shouts of the auctioneer inside the ring was enough to deafen someone. Honey's tail was tight between her legs and she let out a whine every now and then. She was still jumpy and nervous at anything unfamiliar, and this loud, noisy place scared her. She leaned against my leg for comfort and I stroked her head as we walked towards the private sale section.

"How do you know where anything is?" asked Rose, looking around the crowds in bewilderment.

"Well, there are signs telling you where to go, but when it's this busy, it's best if you know where you're going," I told her. We made our way to the sheep enclosure first. They would be the cheapest purchase of the day.

All the ewes, rams, and a few lambs old enough to leave their mothers were in separate enclosures, each one wearing a tag around their necks with the seller's details on them. I explained to Rose how to check that they were healthy, and we began looking at the ewes first. We found one, a nice, average size, three years old and in good condition. The seller said he was asking seven dollars for the ewe, but we managed to bargain it down to six dollars. He also mentioned that he had several rams for sale, if we were interested. We said we were, and he brought out one of them. He was four years old, in good condition and a good breeder, according to the seller. He was on sale for eight dollars, but we bargained down to seven dollars. We gave the breeder our address and he said he would drop off the sheep the next day.

Next, we moved on to the cattle pens. We easily found a cow and a bull, which we bought for a total of seventy-eight dollars. They would be delivered the next day, also. Once that was done, we made our way towards the stables.

This was the part that we were most interested in. We knew we wanted one that was easy to ride and wasn't too big. There were a large selection of horses to choose from, and we began walking along the stalls, examining the horses in turn.

The first one we took interest in was a chestnut male with four white socks and a white clover mark on his forehead. His name card said his name was Star and that he was twenty-four years old. We had already decided we wanted a fairly young horse, so Star was too old for us. We patted him and moved on.

The next horse was a glossy black mare called Jet, seven years old and came from a carefully bred bloodline. She seemed perfect until we tried to stroke her and she snapped at us angrily, her ears pricked back in alarm. When we looked back at her name card, we saw the words A Very Free Spirit, which was a polite way of saying dangerous horse. She was too aggressive.

The third horse was an auburn color, with a reddish main and tail. Predictably, his name was Red, and he was ten years old. He seemed friendly enough until we read his name card and found he had a medical condition in his joints that would require regular medication and vet examinations. As much as we would have liked to buy him, we wouldn't be able to afford his needs.

We moved from horse to horse, each one having at least one fault. Just when we were beginning to think there was no perfect horse here, we came across a beautiful light beige palomino with a white mane and tail. Her name was Kara and she was six years old. She let us stroke her and nuzzled our hands affectionately. She was our perfect horse. We stayed stroking her for so long that her seller came and asked us if we were interested in buying her. We said we were and he said she was on sale for one hundred thirteen dollars. This was a little pricey, but she was perfect and we were willing to pay the price for her. We happily paid the money and the seller said she would deliver Kara tomorrow evening.

"Oh, I can't wait until tomorrow night!" Rose said excitedly as we left the stables. "She's so perfect. I can't wait to ride her!"

"Well, we like her. Now we just have to see if Thunder likes her," I added.

"Oh, he will," Rose said confidently. "How can he not? She's lovely."

"Yes, she is. Hopefully she's good with people riding her."

"Well, if she's not, how hard would it be to train her?"

"Quite easy I think, but the first few times it can be dangerous because she's liable to throw the rider off." Rose looked a little nervous when I mentioned the throwing off part, but soon put the idea out of her mind.

When we got back home, Rose finally opened the letter that had come for her the day before. I already knew who it was from. The New York postmark clearly showed that it was from Nathan and Selina. Rose read the letter quickly and gasped, her face pale. I leaned over her shoulder to read the letter, and was horrified by what it said.

Nathan said that Cal had found out about their part in our escape from New York and had come to their house in the night, drunk and threatening them with a gun. I couldn't believe it. For one thing, it was amazing that Cal had actually discovered Nathan was involved. Then there was the fact that he had threatened not only him and Selina, but Lucy, as well, with a gun. How could he be so monstrous? Rose sat down at the table, her forehead resting in her palm.

"Oh, my God! He is such a bastard!" she suddenly gasped. "How can he point a gun at an innocent little girl? He's a monster!"

I sat down beside her and put my arm around her. "Hey, the important thing is that he doesn't know where we are and he didn't actually fire the gun."

"I know, but I feel so guilty. If I hadn't come to him for help, they never would have been at risk in the first place. Oh, it's all my fault!" She started to cry and I pulled her close, stroking her red curls.

"Rose, it's not your fault," I told her. "It' nobody's fault but Cal's. He's the one in the wrong here, not you."

"I can't believe he found out. How could he have found out?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone saw us and reported us to the police. At least Nathan put him off the track. He's in California right now."

"Yes. That's something good at least, I suppose."

I comforted her as best I could, trying to reassure her that he was never going to find us, but if Cal could find out that Nathan and Selina had helped us, why wouldn't he be able to find out that we were in Chippewa Falls? What if he went back to New York and threatened Nathan and Selina again? It seemed we hadn't heard the last of Caledon Hockley.

Chapter Eighteen
Stories