THE HEART NEVER LIES
Chapter Fourteen
Ruth
I hurried down the street,
carrying a small vanity case. My heart grieved as I thought of the lovely
things I had left behind.
I had moved faster than I ever
had in my life, grabbing undergarments, dresses, and most importantly, my new
jewelry. I was sure I could get money for it.
I could still hear Caledon’s
voice taunting me from the stairs. "Come on, Ruth. Five minutes to go. Hurry
up and leave." I had walked down the stairs past him, freezing him out,
walked out the door, and never looked back. I was made of sterner stuff that he
could ever think of.
My tears were long gone as I had
packed my stuff. Caledon Hockley’s revelations had turned my heart to stone and
clarified my thoughts.
The cause of our troubles were
all due to this corrupt family. The father apparently had swindled Daniel
Bukater, my fool of a dead husband, at cards whilst drunk and robbed him of the
family fortune.
This had made us easy prey, and
that cad had his sights set on Rose, and from the display of violence and
madness I had just witnessed, I didn’t think he would ever quit seeking Rose.
I had to find her. I owed her so
many apologies. Cal had seemed so real, so kind, all the time he had known we
were penniless. I had been so blind. Rose had seen through him.
I walked breathlessly down the
street, my head swimming. I had to be strong. Rose was strong. Look at how she
fought for her right to love and be loved by that young steerage boy. How I had
denied her and conspired with Cal to frame the young man on the ship for
stealing the necklace, and still Rose had believed in him and stayed on the
ship with him, to his death and nearly hers.
I loved my daughter. I did love
my daughter. I always had, but propriety had gotten in the way. I would have to
change all that.
I had to throw my pride aside
now. I would call on the strength of my love for Rose and the need for justice.
I asked a nearby policeman where
the Dorchester-Banks Hotel was. I walked the three blocks to it, my mind set. I
knew what I was going to do.
Arriving at the front desk, I
asked politely, "Is Mrs. Molly Brown in residence. I do believe she has a
suite here."
The desk clerk took in my fur
wrap and rich gown. "Is she expecting you?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Tell her Mrs. DeWitt Bukater is here."
"Yes. Right away."
I stepped back from the desk,
breathing heavily. Molly Brown was my last hope. I had heard her saying on the
boat at an afternoon tea session that she kept rooms at the Dorchester. I
prayed she would help me after the way I had shunned her and mocked her for
being new money. I didn’t deserve help.
Jack
The doctor at St. Jude’s checked
me over, took my temperature, and examined me right before I would catch the
train.
"Mr. Dawson," he said.
"Mrs. Brown has told me you are greatly improved. I am glad you have found
out your identity, and she tells me that you have a gift for art. You are an
extremely lucky young man to have her as a friend."
"Yes, I am," I replied,
picking up my rucksack loaded with all new clothes and supplies that Molly had
purchased for me. "Doctor, will the rest of my memories come back?" I
asked.
He frowned and folded down the
sides of his white coat with his hands.
"I don’t know. However, I do
think that as you recuperate from your ordeal on the Titanic, your memories
will resurface."
"There was a young lady I
was acquainted with on the Titanic. I keep seeing her face, and Molly tells me
she was special to me, but I can’t remember her," I said.
"You must have gone through
a terrible time together. It could be that your brain has shut off the bad
things for your own protection. I am sure something will jolt your psyche in
time," the doctor replied.
"Thanks," I said, left
the hospital jauntily, and set off to the railway station to get a train. I had
already said good-bye to Molly and would telegraph her when I reached
California.
Rose, I wish I could remember
you. I am coming to the realization that we must have loved each other very
much for you to be haunting my dreams like this. I wish I could remember the
feelings!
Rose
The train pulled into the
station. I alighted slowly, weary from the hours of traveling, but every hour
took me away from Caledon Damned Hockley and my money hungry mother.
I booked myself into the nearest
boarding house I could find and asked the landlady, Mrs. Jackson, if I could
read the local paper. I had paid her a month’s rent in advance. It was a small
clapboard house set on a small, residential, tree-lined street in a small town
called Venice Beach, just miles from Santa Monica. Mrs. Jackson was a buxom
widowed middle class lady, and my tale of me being widowed myself endeared me
to her. I could explain the pregnancy later.
The bright skies and the lushness
of the California countryside lifted my jaded senses.
"So, Mrs. Dawson," Mrs.
Jackson said. "Would you like me to cook for you, too?"
"Yes, please," I said.
I had changed into a plain dress, let my hair down, and was corset-less. I felt
free.
I looked through the paper,
looking for jobs. An ad caught my eye.
Models wanted for photographic
studio, could lead to small acting opportunity. It jumped off the page at me. In the
morning, I would inquire and also check with a doctor.
"I think I am going to like
California," I announced boldly. Mrs. Jackson laughed.