THE HEART GOES ON
Chapter Eleven

Mid-October, 1912
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin
Jack

Rose and I were sitting in the parlor in front of a warm, dancing fire with Aunty Janette and William. I was always surprised that they had no children, but they were very fond of my mother and Janette’s brother, my father and me. Janette had been like a mother to me and had been a great friend of my mother, Hope. They had always lived nearby, near Eau Claire.

The loss of my parents had been too much for me, so I had lit out. Much as I missed my aunty and uncle, I knew they would keep the farm going. Aunty had promised she would take care of it until I ran out of wanderlust, as she called my itch to get away.

Well, it had certainly gone now. Here I was, sitting and reading the evening paper while Rose did some needlepoint. She was surprisingly good at it and told me she used to do it at finishing school to kill time, as she had been so bored. Aunty was darning socks. William was dozing in a chair. It was agreed that I would start to give him a hand on the farm in between my drawings, as the Dawson farm had been in the family for three generations.

Rose seemed contented, as she was smiling as she sewed; she seemed more at peace than I had ever seen her. Our eyes met, and I felt that familiar attraction.

"I’ll make a pot of tea," Aunty said, and made her way out to the kitchen.

Bang! Bang! Someone was thumping hard on the front door.

Rose stifled a cry and dropped her needlepoint. Her easy manner of a few moments ago vanished and she turned white and tense. "Jack?" she whispered.

William was awake in a flash. He went to the cabinet and got out his shotgun. We were taking no chances.

He put his fingers to his lips to indicate silence and went out the back door. Rose ran to me and gripped my hand. "Jack, is it Cal?" She was terrified.

Aunty rushed in, and the three of us waited in suspense.

We could hear raised voices, then Uncle William’s gruff tones, then the kitchen door opening and heavy footsteps.

"Come in here, please," William said testily.

We all walked cautiously into the kitchen, Rose hiding behind me. She was shaking.

Uncle William was standing, pointing his shotgun at a slim, tall young gentleman, dressed finely. He had brown hair and brown eyes and was just as startled as we were. He dropped his leather valise on the floor in shock.

"Found him skulking about outside. Said he need to speak ta ya," William said.

"Are you Jack Dawson?" the brown-haired, pale-looking young man asked in modulated tones, looking at me.

"Who the hell are you?" William barked at him and jabbed him with the gun. The young man gasped and sidestepped.

"Yes, I am Jack Dawson. Who are you? What do you want?" I yelled.

Rose peeped out from behind me. "Why?" she cried. "Is that you, Gerard?"

Gerard

I stood looking at the angry, fair-haired young man who had just introduced himself as Jack Dawson. His vivid blue eyes were flashing with anger and fear. Behind him stood Rose, a Rose I would not have recognized, dressed simply in a wool dress, her flame red hair falling down her shoulders. She was clinging to Jack’s arm in terror.

The older man and woman were glaring at me. Both farming folk, I could see. The woman had the same blue eyes as Jack. The tall, thin farmer shouted in rough tones.

"Who are ya?"

"He’s Gerard Hockley," Rose said faintly.

All their eyes looked at me in distaste.

"Hockley!" screamed the older woman. "You’re not welcome here. You and your bloody family. Poison!" she spat at me.

I had to explain myself, and fast, with the gun pointed at me. I felt sick.

"I have come to warn you," I said quickly. "Caledon knows where you are."

The words sank in. The older farmer’s gun dropped. The lady’s hands flew up to her face, and Jack looked crosser than hell.

Rose stepped away from Jack. "Are you sure?" she demanded in her educated voice. "Cal is coming here? Are you sure, Gerard?"

"I am afraid so. It’s a plan I overheard. Father wants Cal to bring you home and marry you and retrieve that damned necklace, too."

Rose gave a small cry. Jack rushed forward and held her. He was obviously smitten with her and protective. I had never seen Cal so tender with any woman like Jack was with Rose. He was attentive and loving.

Jack passed Rose back to the older lady and came up to me. "You’d better be telling the truth, Mr. Hockley. Aunty is right. Your whole family is poison to us. You’d better talk."

"I am telling you the truth. I am here to help you, to warn you. I am not like my father and brother. It’s all about money and position. Cal means to inherit his fortune by whatever means. Unfortunately, he thinks Rose is the key to that. He means to marry her, and she’ll have the Hockley heirs."

Jack’s cross face relaxed, and a smile played on his lips.

"That would be funny if it were not so ironic," he said in a warmer voice. He reached out his hand, and we shook.

"I am Jack Dawson, as you now know. This is Aunty Janette." He nodded to her. "And my Uncle William." William nodded curtly and went off to put the gun away.

"And you know Rose," he continued. Rose was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. "I’d better tell you straight. Rose and I are legally married. And for Cal wanting her to be the Hockley heir-bearer, he’s a bit late. Rose and I are having a baby in January!"

My jaw dropped as I looked at Rose’s figure; of course, once I knew, it was obvious she was with child, the bump hidden under her thick dress, but still visible.

"Oh, my goodness!" I exclaimed.

"Excuse me, sir," the lady said. "I am Janette. I realize you are trying to help us. Won’t you take a seat and I’ll make a pot of tea."

Rose was not saying anything. She was leaning on Jack.

"Rose, go and lie down, my darling," he was saying. "You don’t want to stress the baby. I’ll talk to Gerard, and we’ll work out a plan."

"Excuse me, Gerard," she murmured, and Jack led her from the room.

"I’ll be back down in a bit, Gerard," Jack said. "Rose just needs a rest first. This has been a shock. She’s been through a lot."

Janette offered me a chair, and I sat down. She picked up my valise and put it down neatly by the back door.

She was saying, "Well, isn’t this a turn-up for the books. Well, Jack and you will have a lot to talk about for sure."

Chapter Twelve
Stories