NOBODY SAID LOVE WAS GONNA BE EASY
Chapter Seventeen

"Father, I need to talk to you." Matt O’Connor strode into the parlor, a worried look on his face.

Ronald put his newspaper down and looked at his son. "About what?"

"Dawson."

"What about him?"

"I saw him and his wife leaving the doctor’s office in town, and when I asked I found out that Jack is beginning to recover from his injury. He may soon be walking again."

"And?"

"And if he regains his legs, he’ll be able to investigate our role in his parents’ deaths again. It probably won’t be long before he’s walking again, either—the nurse says that he’s been coming in for physical therapy for about two months."

Ronald looked at his son scornfully. "He won’t walk again. He was shot in the spine. Those injuries don’t heal."

"His has."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Father, don’t you understand the importance of this? You’re more guilty in this matter than I am—I was only fifteen at the time of the Dawsons’ deaths, and all I did was close the barn door so that they couldn’t get out. It could easily be argued that I was trying to keep the fire from spreading. You, on the other hand, were the one who set the fire."

"By knocking over a lantern, which is a common enough accident."

"But Jack suspects that it wasn’t an accident, and if he finds out the truth—"

"He’ll go straight to the authorities." Ronald sighed. "You’re right. We do need to do something. The question is—what?"

"We could arrange for another fire," Matt suggested.

"Too obvious. It would be too much of a coincidence if all of the Dawsons died in fires—but the second fire was years after the first one."

"Some other kind of accident, then?"

Ronald thought for a few moments. "No. He’s suspicious now, and if he survives, he’ll know who was behind it."

"Then what should we do? We can’t just let him discover the truth and turn us in." Matt paced back and forth across the floor, trying to think of a solution. "Wait! What about Hockley? When we contacted him the first time, he sent Rose’s mother to take her back to Philadelphia."

"No one knows where he is. I’ve tried to contact him, but it’s like he’s disappeared."

"He’s dead, then?"

"No one knows. He hasn’t been seen since Dawson took his wife back. I tried contacting his father, who owns Hockley Steel, but he says he has no idea where his son is. If he was dead, there would have been a funeral and a lot of attention in the newspapers, because he’s the son of a Pittsburgh steel tycoon."

"So Hockley is out, then. But we need to think of some way to stop Jack from investigating us—some way that doesn’t implicate us."

"I know that, Matt. But Dawson isn’t out of the woods yet—he still has a long way to go, if he ever regains his legs. So we have time to think of something."

"Yes. But whatever we do, this time we have to make sure it’s permanent."

*****

Jack rolled the wheelchair into the kitchen, where Rose was sitting and nursing Emily. She smiled as he came in, leaning over to give him a kiss.

Jack grinned at her, his face more animated than it had been in a long time. "I have something to show you," he told her, setting the brakes on the wheelchair so it wouldn’t roll.

"What is it?"

"Watch."

He pushed the footrests of the wheelchair aside, reaching for the crutches that were strapped to the back of the chair. Rose watched curiously.

Jack maneuvered his leg braces so that they were almost straight, then rested the crutches on the floor near his feet. Holding onto them and using the wall for support, he struggled to his feet, finally standing.

Rose stared at him for a moment, her mouth hanging open. "Jack! You’re standing!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting with happiness.

"I’ve been trying for a long time, and finally managed to do it this morning. I kept practicing until I could do it without falling."

Rose set Emily on her blanket on the floor and came towards her husband. "You are getting better! Sometimes I wondered if it was ever going to happen, but your hard work has been worth it. Look at you!"

Jack laughed. "Amazing, isn’t it? I can’t walk yet, but isn’t standing the first step towards walking?"

"That’s how babies do it. You may not be a baby anymore, but—you’ll be walking soon. I know you will."

"I hope so."

Rose laughed with delight, throwing her arms around Jack. He wobbled, nearly falling, before he leaned against her, letting her hold him up.

"I’m not very steady on my feet yet, I’m afraid," he confessed, trying to hold onto the crutches and hug her at the same time.

"You will be." Rose steadied him, standing back to admire his feat before helping him sit back down. "You were right, Jack. Things are looking up for us."

"I’ll be able to go back to work soon, I hope. Then…" His brow furrowed. "Rose, where have we been getting the money to live on all this time? It’s been months since you were kidnapped, and I haven’t worked since then. How deeply in debt are we?"

Rose looked away. "We’re not in debt yet. I…had some money stashed away."

"You did? Where did you get it?"

"Cal."

"Cal gave you money?"

"Not on purpose, but…I found several stacks of bills in the inner pockets of the coat when I was cleaning it not long after coming back here, thinking that I might sell it to pay the bills."

"How much money was there?"

"About five thousand dollars."

"Five thousand dollars!"

"I think he must have cleaned out his safe before the ship sank. He always did believe in being prepared."

"And when he put the coat on you…he gave you the money."

"Yes. He didn’t ask me about it when…when I was with him. He must have thought I’d lost it, or sold the coat or something. Actually, it was here all the time, and now what’s left of the money is hidden in several places so that if someone steals it, they won’t get all of it. I also wrapped the Heart of the Ocean in oilcloth and buried it in the yard so that it won’t be stolen."

"You have that, too?"

"It was in an outer pocket. Cal probably put the coat on me to keep it safe."

Jack looked at her, wide-eyed. "If you sold that, you would never have to worry about money again."

"I don’t want to sell it, Jack. It’s a reminder of those days we spent together on board the Titanic—a reminder of happier times. The drawing that you made of me was lost, but one day you might make another."

"Maybe. In fact, I hope so. But not until I’m better. I want to save that until I’m walking again."

"Why?"

Jack shrugged. "I don’t know…I just do." He grinned. "I might even make a drawing of you wearing it fully clothed this time, too."

Rose blushed slightly, but didn’t get angry. "I’d like that. I’ll keep it for as long as I am able. If you can’t get another job soon, then maybe I can go to work…I could work in a store or a restaurant, or take in sewing, or even clean houses…I’ve learned to do a lot of things since that day I left you."

Jack sobered at the reminder. "Rose…I’m sorry for hitting you that day. I told you…and myself…that I would never do that, and then I went back on my word. I acted no better than the bastard who you were engaged to."

"Jack, no. You shouldn’t have hit me…but it’s over and done with. I’ve forgiven you. You never did half the things to me that Cal did. You’ve never burned me, or beaten me, or caused me to miscarry…or raped me. You are nothing like him. I don’t think you could be so vicious even if you wanted to be. You stuck by me even after what he did to me…and I’m grateful for that."

"I stuck by you because I love you. Cal can’t change that. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you on board the Titanic…and that’s not going to change. And you’ve stuck with me all this time, even though I’ve been in a wheelchair and might have never gotten better. I still might never be able to walk the way I once could. Robert said that you visited me every other weekend in the hospital, even though it was a long drive to get there. You slept on a cot at my side sometimes, and refused to give up on me."

"I love you, Jack. That’s why I stayed with you. I couldn’t bear the thought that you might wake up and I’d miss it—or that you might die alone. I was so relieved when you finally woke up…and now you’re getting better, and you’ll soon be walking again. Things are going to be all right. I’m sure of it."

Chapter Eighteen
Stories