ROSE'S PAST
Chapter Five

Rose bounded down the stairs, a wide smile on her face. All the confusion of the past night had drained away and had been replaced with only happiness. Happiness in that she finally had the mother she had always dreamed of. Happiness in that her life had made a complete turnaround from the miserable state it had been in.

"Good morning, Mother," she greeted happily, finding Ruth already seated at the table. The table was set with fresh fruit and biscuits.

"Rose," Ruth responded.

Her voice. What was going on?

"Is something wrong, Mother?" Rose asked, looking up from her plate.

"No."

Rose's heart began to race. What was happening? Was last night nothing but a dream? No. It couldn't have been.

"Are you sure, Mother?" she asked. "You look as if something is wrong."

"No, Rose!" Ruth stood up. Rose watched her mother nervously. "Well, yes! Yes, something IS wrong! Last night, I tried to show you how I feel about you, Rose! And then, you go to that maid and say how you couldn't see how I could say such things! You doubt my love for you! For years, I've waited to say those things, and then you, YOU STILL doubt me!"

Rose had never heard her mother talk so strongly, so loudly.

"No, Mother! I did not mean it like that! I was just--just so shocked that you--"

"That I what, Rose? That I am a human? Have feelings? What?" Tears streamed down her face.

Ruth? Crying?

Rose's emotions were swirling inside her. Hurt, regret, desperateness--anger.

"Mother, please! I did not mean it like that! I love you and was overjoyed last night when you told me you loved me! Please, Mother, don't leave!" Rose cried, chasing after her mother as she turned and rushed out of the dining room. "Mother, please. I love you!"

Ruth ignored her daughter, stormed up to her room, and locked the door.

"Rose?" Betsy approached the girl, placing her hands on her shoulders.

"Tell Charles to saddle my horse," Rose said, pulling away.

"Rose--"

"Now!" she snapped, walking to her room. She slammed the door and quickly changed into a simple black dress.

Black was the only color in her closet now.

She grabbed a hat and ran down the stairs and out to the stables where the redheaded stable boy stood, holding the reins of her magnificent mare. The horse nickered as Rose approached.

"Thank you, Charles," Rose mumbled, swinging herself onto the sidesaddle. He nodded and backed away as Rose gave the mare a nudge in the ribs and started off for the meadow in which she normally rode. "Faster, Gem!" Rose urged, giving the horse more reins. The horse picked up its pace to a canter.

Rose loved to feel the air rush around her as she rushed over the lush field. The past night's light drizzle had refreshed the world. Everything seemed anew, seemed to shine in the light of the sun.

Everything except Rose.

She could feel water splashing her feet as Sun Gem cantered through the puddles in the grass. The horse stumbled every now and then, but Rose would not let the horse slow. She should. She knew it. But she didn't want to. No. Not now. The air swirling around her felt as if it were blowing away all her worries, all her pain. "Faster, Gem!" Rose shouted, again giving the horse more reins and pressing with her heel. "Faster!"

The water sprayed up around her. The grass was thinning. Rose could hear the mud sucking at the mare's hooves. The horse began to slow. Sweat foamed on the mare's light golden neck. Her creamy white mane was windblown and tangled. "Go on!" Rose demanded. Gem thrust her neck forward and started up the small incline. The mud sucked at her feet, but she struggled up the hill and was soon free of the mud. Rose started her back to a canter, and the horse obeyed, exhausted as she was, and started on the side of the hill. "Faster, horse! Run!" The mare neighed and took off again.

And then, everything happened in a blur.

The sky and field that lay ahead of Rose disappeared.

She was thrown from the saddle.

For a split second all she could see was a flash of colors.

Something heavy fell on her back.

She heard a crunch.

Blood filled her mouth.

Blackness.

*****

Charles walked as swiftly as he dared toward the house. He had been afraid to move Rose, but he had known if he left her out there, there would be no way to get help fast enough. He dearly hoped he hadn't hurt her any more. He took comfort in the fact that the doctor would surely be called right away.

Not concerned with propriety at the moment, Charles approached the front door, ringing the bell as quickly as he could by pressing it with his elbow. Seconds seemed to drag on forever. Trudy opened it at last, and gasped. "What on earth..."

"It was an accident, with her horse. I got here fast as I could. She needs the doctor. Now."

"Yes, of course." Trudy rushed off to perform this urgent task. Just at that moment, Ruth came downstairs, hearing the commotion. "Charles, what..." It was then she saw her daughter, unconscious in his arms. "What happened to her?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"It was an accident, ma'am, with the horse. I'm afraid I'm hurting her more, may I please put her down somewhere?"

"Yes, come, bring her upstairs." They went swiftly up, and Charles put her down gently on the bed. "Thank you, you may go now."

"Yes, ma'am." Charles left reluctantly, hoping very hard that Rose was going to be all right. Once they were alone, Ruth focused all of her attention on her daughter. At first, she just gazed at her, stunned, unsure what to do. Rose stirred suddenly.

"Mama..."

Ruth was startled. Rose had not called her that in many years. She spoke up immediately, hoping to keep Rose still and calm. "Yes, Rose, I'm here. I'm right here."

"Why does everything hurt? What happened?"

"You had an accident. It's going to be all right. The doctor will be here soon to take care of you." Ruth's mind had just barely registered the information that Trudy had been on the phone with him downstairs. "I'm glad you're here, but...where is Daddy? Why isn't he here?"

Ruth barely stifled a gasp of surprise. She couldn't tell Rose the truth, not now. She could see from her expression that she truly did not remember that he was dead. "He isn't home right now, Rose. Just be still, it's going to be all right."

"Are you sure? I...I'm scared."

"I'm sure you are. The doctor is coming, Rose. I promise."

"I know, and that will help. But please stay, I want to know you're here in case I...if I'm about to die."

"Oh, Rose, you're not. Everything will be fine. For now, just close your eyes, rest."

Rose was having difficulty speaking now, but she got all of the words out, knowing she needed to say them. Just in case.

"Mama, I want you to know that I...I'm sorry I hurt you so much. I didn't mean to. I love you. Please...forgive me." Ruth did not hesitate for one second. "I do, I know you didn't mean it. I love you, too, Rose." Just seconds later Rose's eyes were closed. She seemed at first to be sleeping, but Ruth soon realized she wasn't. She was unconscious again.

*****

Rose lay awake in her bed. If you could call the state she was in "awake."

She could feel the dried blood on her lips and pain shooting through her every limb.

She didn't remember anything except what her mother had told her. You had an accident, Ruth had said.

What kind of accident? Where was Joseph? Where was SHE?

Rose looked around, not recognizing anything.

She could feel every sound in her bones. The creaks of the floor, the scratching of the branches against the side of the house, the wind battering against the window all sent vicious pangs through her body.

The door creaked open, and she could not help but moan as the sound of the footsteps and words reached her ear.

Who was there? What were they saying? More than one? There were three.

The voices swam like oil spilt in water through her head.

"Oh, she's awake," she heard her mother say. That was the only voice she recognized. "Oh, Rose, dear! Are you all right?" Ruth touched her daughter's forehead, but Rose yelled out in pain and she quickly backed away.

"It's all right, Mrs. DeWitt Bukater. It, no doubt, is just sore. Could you leave the room, please? There are too many people in the room. We don't want to confuse her any more than she already is."

Rose wanted to object but found she was unable to talk.

The men simply stood over her, staring at her. "All right, now. Miss Rose, if you can hear us then listen now."

She moaned.

"We're going to have to check and see if you've broken any bones and other things. This will hurt, but it is absolutely necessary, so that we can set them as soon as possible. All right?"

She forced her eyes open and simply looked at them, still unable to speak.

Rose winced as they moved her fingers and wrists, flexed her elbows and shoulder joints, and then repeated the same procedure with her toes and ankles and knees.

"Now, Rose, this will feel strange, but I assure you, it is proper," the younger man said, placing his hands on her stomach.

She stared up at him blankly, though inwardly, she was drawing back.

He began to gently move his fingertips over her ribs.

"Ah. That's what I thought, Father," he said, "One, two on the left. Two...three on the right." He looked down at her and smiled. "Seems that horse of yours broke five of your ribs when it fell on you."

Horse? What?

Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Not to worry, Miss Rose. 'Tis an easy thing to take care of," the older man said, "We'll just wrap ya up, then you have to stay in bed." His voice was heavily accented.

The doctors, evidently a father-son team, talked with each other a minute more, and then told her they would be back soon, and left.

And as they slipped out of the room, blackness overtook her once more.

*****

When Rose came to again, she looked frantically about the room. She was alone. She didn’t want to be alone. Yet, she didn’t have the strength to call out for anyone, either. Her entire body hurt, she felt as if she were trying to breathe through mud. Just the effort exhausted her.

A loud thunderclap startled her, and she jumped, causing pain to course through every fiber of her body even more intensely. She was about to surrender to sleep when the door to her room opened.

"Oh, you are awake. I brought you something." Ruth approached the bed, bringing with her a tray, which bore a bowl of soup. Rose was confused. Why hadn’t she had one of the servants bring it? Her astonishment grew as Ruth set the tray down, then began to prepare, obviously, to feed the soup to Rose herself. When Ruth brought the spoon to Rose’s lips, she just shook her head, though very slightly.

"Dear, you must be hungry. I know you are in a lot of pain, but you have to eat. Please."

Rose shook her head again, then heard a sudden voice, downstairs. "Is that Daddy? He’s finally home...I can’t let him see me like this." Summoning every ounce of her strength, Rose began to try to get up. Ruth swiftly moved the tray out of the way, fearing it nor its contents would be of any use at all.

"No, Rose, please lie back now. That isn’t your father. He isn’t here."

Rose did as her mother asked, studying her face. The way she looked, so...guilty. Rose knew her father would have come home as soon as he heard; yet he wasn’t here. He hadn’t been, all along, she knew. Her mother looked guilty for a reason...she was hiding something. Something...

In that instant, the memory hit her. When Rose spoke, her voice trembled, and not out of physical pain. "He’s dead."

Ruth gazed at her daughter and nodded. Rose began to cry, cry as she had when he had first left her, causing herself horrendous physical pain, but not caring. Dimly, through her agony, Rose heard her mother’s voice.

"I’m sorry, I wish you hadn’t remembered now. If only he was here, maybe you wouldn’t be like this. He would have known what to say, what to do. But I...I didn’t. This is my fault, what has happened to you." Ruth was whispering now, she was sure Rose hadn’t heard the last part of what she’d said. It didn’t matter; she knew she was at fault. She doubted she could set things right, ever. She was just composing herself when Rose looked at her and weakly spoke.

"Mother, is this what dying is?"

Ruth gasped. "Rose, you are not dying. The doctor has promised me you will be fine. You must do as he says, though. That means be as still as you can, and eat good meals to help keep your strength up."

"How can I eat if I’m not even supposed to sit up, Mother?" Rose’s tone was biting, and Ruth shot her a disapproving look. But her voice was gentle. "That’s what I’m here for." Ruth returned the tray to its proper place. "Now we shall see just how hungry you really are."

Rose hesitated at first, embarrassed at being fed like a baby. Soon, her stomach overruled her self-consciousness, and her dinner rapidly disappeared. Almost as soon as she was finished, Rose began to drift off to sleep.

She was aware only of movement and sound as her mother took the things away. Then she felt a kiss on her forehead. As Ruth settled into the chair across the room, Rose eased into slumber.

Chapter Six
Stories