After she had changed and packed, Rose departed for Chippewa Falls, knowing the possibility of her going into labor on the train. Thankfully, there were a couple of midwives traveling to Montana who were in a nearby compartment. Throughout all of the three days of the train ride, all Rose could think about was Jack. Would he be happy or upset when she arrived on his doorstep? Did he still love her? He had last told her that he no longer had feelings for her, but once, in a letter, he had said he'd always love her. Which was she to believe?
When the train pulled into the Chippewa Falls train station, it was dark, cold, and snowing. With her shawl over her head, she ran to the first home that she came across and knocked on the door. A young Chinese man answered the door.
"May I help you?" he asked.
"Could you please tell me where Jack Dawson lives?" Rose asked him.
The man's name was August Zhou, and he lived in that home with his parents and sisters. August had lived in Chippewa Falls his entire life and never really known Jack Dawson. They had gone to the same school, but often Jack was suspended.
"No, I can't…I'm sorry…" said August in a sympathetic tone, almost as if he could detect her love for Jack.
"Oh, it's all right," said Rose, and she left.
She tried another home–the Stuarts–who weren't home, and Rose headed to the next house. Finally, she came to the Hamilton home and knocked on the door, which was answered by young Melanie. Melanie hadn't changed much, for she still dressed as if she lived in the 1860s. Rose again asked her question, and Melanie smiled.
"I assume that you are the very beautiful Rose that he always speaks of? I'm his cousin, Charlie's wife…if you follow Main Street, which is the street where the train station is located, there will be three small farms on the right. First should be the Schrieffers’ farm, Ballymore, and then should be the Phillips’ farm, and last is Belle Monte, which is Jack's home. If you need an address, it is 316 Main Street."
Rose smiled. "Thank you so much…" With a thankful expression, Rose was on her way.
Following Melanie's instructions, Rose found her way to Jack's home and stood on his porch. What if he turned her away? She couldn't let that happen again. Rose confidently knocked on the front door.
Jack was in the parlor, reading a book of Sherlock Holmes stories, when he heard a knock at the door. He looked up at a clock on the mantle and read 29 December, 11:00. Who would come to visit him so long after Christmas and so late at night? Standing, Jack put his bookmark in his book, set it down, walked to the door, and answered it. The moment he figured out who it was standing on his porch, his eyes went wide, and as soon as he realized that it was snowing out, he went into immediate panic mode.
"Rose! What the hell are you doing here?" he exclaimed, pulling her into the house and slamming the front door. He held her to his chest while he searched for a blanket.
"It feels so good to be in your arms, Jack…" Rose told him as he found a blanket and wrapped her tightly in it.
"Are you insane, Rose? You could have gotten ill!" Jack cried, taking her face in his hands. "Why did you come here?”
"Because I love you, Jack!" Rose told him, hugging him the best that she could.
Jack sighed. "Then you came for nothing, because I'm not taking you back. You hurt me too much…but I won't be so cruel as to throw you out in the cold. You can stay in the guest room…" he said, trying to free himself from her grasp.
"No, Jack! The only bed I'll ever sleep in is yours! The only way I'll ever sleep again is if I'm in your arms!" Rose cried, and she hugged him tighter. "I refuse to be without you, Jack. I love you!"
"Rose, stop it!" Jack pushed her away from him. "No! We can't do this! You shouldn't have come here!"
"Jack, I risked having our child on the train just to be with you…Jack, I'll do anything for you…I love you, Jack!" Rose rushed into his arms again and began to cry. He was turning her away! He couldn't do this! He loved her, didn't he? "I'm so sorry, Jack…"
"Saying I'm sorry isn't going to heal old wounds…the wounds that you gave me are too deep, Rose…I'm not sure if they'll ever heal…" Jack told her.
Rose looked up at him. "But you once said that you loved me…in a letter, four months ago. Don't you remember? I have all of your letters, especially that last one, and I was going to write you, but my life got so busy, and my father…Jack, I was taken from my father by that cruel Ruth woman who thinks that she's my mother. I just wanted him to be happy…but I never stopped loving you. I never could! And you told me that you'd never stop loving me! Did you not mean that when you wrote it?" Rose asked him.
Jack sighed, knowing that she was right about loving him, and that he still did love her. "Rose, I admit it, I do still love you…but you hurt me so much…to the point where I'm afraid to try again…now, grab one of my coats. I'll take you to my cousin Charlie's and his wife, Melanie's home. Tomorrow, they'll get you on a train back to Manhattan…" During Jack's confession, Rose began to feel slightly lightheaded, and Jack noticed her turn pale. "Rose? Rose, are you all right?"
Nodding, Rose replied, "Yes…yes, I'm fine…" She placed a hand on her forehead and leaned against him. Suddenly, she felt a watery liquid running down her legs and her eyes went wide. "Jack…Jack…"
"What is it?" Jack could detect the panic in her voice.
Rose looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "It's time…" she said, leaning against him for support. "It's time for the baby, Jack…"
Jack's eyes went wide, and his face paled even whiter than Rose's.