RUNAWAY ROSE
Chapter Seventy-One
Rose was so surprised that she stumbled
backward, tripping over a rock and landing with a splat in the muddy ditch beside
the road. She stared up at the figure in shock.
I’m dead. That must be it. I died in that
plane crash in Mexico, and all this wandering was just a dream. Or maybe I’m
dreaming, and I’ll wake up any minute. Maybe I’ve been out in the sun too long—because
this is not possible.
Jack Dawson climbed slowly down from the
wagon and looked down at the mud-splattered figure before him. It was a young
woman, he could tell, though he couldn’t see who it was. Her hat had fallen
over her face, shielding it from view.
Unable to resist the temptation, Rose pulled
her hat away from her face and looked at him again. She shook her head and
closed her eyes, trying to make to image go away. It isn’t possible.
Jack’s mouth dropped open. "Rose? Rose,
what in the hell are you doing out here?"
Rose looked at him in confusion. What was she
doing here? What was he doing here? He was dead, wasn’t he? Dead people
weren’t supposed to drive wagons along California highways.
She giggled, a bit hysterically. I’ve gone
insane. All this wandering has finally gotten to me. I’ve completely lost my
mind.
Jack leaned forward, holding out a hand to
help her to her feet. Rose just stared at him.
He looks like Jack, same blond hair, blue
eyes, pronounced limp...wait! Jack doesn’t have a limp, or he didn’t, or...what
in God’s name is going on?
Rose took his hand, allowing him to help her
up. She brushed at the mud on her clothes and rucksack.
Jack repeated the question. "Rose, what
are you doing here? Where’s Cal?"
At that, a frightened look passed over Rose’s
face. Her heart pounded and her muscles tensed, ready to flee.
"Cal? He’s here? Where is he? Where did
you see him?" I have to run, have to get away. I have to leave
California. I’m not safe if he’s here. Where can I go? New Orleans? Yes. New
Orleans will work. He’ll never think to look for me there—I hope.
"I don’t know where he is. He’s your
husband."
"Husband? He’s not my...wait. What’s
going on? Why are you here?" Rose was ready to run again. Nothing made
sense, and it was all happening too fast.
"Are you looking for a ride into
town?" Jack asked her, climbing back up on the wagon.
"I’m going into Riverside. Is that where
you’re going?" Rose couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.
For that matter, she couldn’t believe they were conversing at all. He was
supposed to be dead. She still wasn’t completed convinced that he wasn’t.
"That’s where I’m going. Climb
aboard."
Rose climbed onto the wagon seat, setting her
knapsack in the back of the wagon amongst what appeared to be sacks of grain.
"What...how...you’re dead!" she
exclaimed as they set out down the road.
He looked at her strangely. "That’s news
to me."
"I don’t believe it. I’m having a
conversation with a ghost. Yes, that’s it. You’re a ghost."
"I’m awfully solid for a ghost."
On impulse, Rose grabbed his arm. The horses
whinnied nervously as his grip on the reins loosened.
"You are real!" she exclaimed,
letting go of him. "But...how? I don’t understand. You died...in the
water...after the ship went down."
He looked at her, blue eyes wide with confusion.
"I survived...barely...but I lived. I thought you knew."
"No." Rose shook her head.
"You were dead. I was sure you were dead. You were so cold...so still. I
couldn’t wake you up. I wanted to die with you—but I remembered the promise I’d
made. So I let you go...and you sank down into the water and disappeared."
"I woke up under the water. I couldn’t
breathe...my lungs were full of water. I made it back to the surface and
started coughing, trying to breathe...and someone in the boat heard me and came
back for me. You had already been rescued, but you were unconscious. I guessed
you’d fainted or something. The next thing I knew, I was in the ship’s infirmary
on board the Carpathia. The doctor didn’t want me to move, but when he turned
his back I sneaked out. I saw you on the third class deck, walking towards the
stairs with Cal. I knew I couldn’t follow you, so I went back to the infirmary,
hoping that you would come to me."
Rose was stunned. So close...he was so
close all the time...if only I’d turned my head, I would have seen him.
"Why didn’t you try to contact me? Why
didn’t you tell me you were alive?"
"I thought you knew. I followed you to
Philadelphia after the Carpathia docked, hoping that you would be able to get
away from Cal, but you stayed with him. I saw you with him a couple of times in
the city."
"And you never tried to approach
me?"
"I thought you wanted to be with him.
You smiled and talked to people, acting as though you were happy."
"I had to act that way...in
public."
"I hoped that you would change your mind
and leave him, but you didn’t. I waited until your wedding day. At noon—the
time that your wedding began, I left for the train station and caught the 12:45
train to Chicago."
"I didn’t marry Cal, Jack. I...left him
at the altar. I ran home and packed a few things, and then fled to the train
station. I bought a third class ticket on the one o’clock train to New York
City." She closed her eyes, realizing. "If I had left fifteen minutes
earlier, we would have run across each other. All these years, I’ve mourned for
you...and you were alive all along."
The wagon jolted over a rut in the road, and
Jack gripped the reins more tightly. "It’s ironic, isn’t it? Fifteen
minutes...all these years, I’d thought you were married to Cal."
A thousand questions ran through Rose’s mind—what
had he been doing these past five years? Where did he live? What had brought
him back to California? Was he married now? Where had that limp come from? Was
it from the sinking? But this wasn’t the time, or the place, to ask such
questions. They would be in Riverside soon, and then...
"Do you live in Riverside?" she
blurted out, not wanting to let him go so soon after she had found him again.
He nodded. "I live in a small house on
the outskirts of town. I was in Sunnymeade today, trading goods from my
employer’s warehouse for grain from the farmers there. It saves them the trip,
and allows Mr. Curtis to realize a higher profit than if the farmers had to
bring their products themselves."
Rose nodded, thinking. I shouldn’t try to
get too close to him. He might be married, might have a family...but I’d still
like to know what he’s been doing all these years. Perhaps, if he has a family,
I can meet them.
"Are there any low-cost hotels in
Riverside?" she asked, thinking that she might stay, for a short time, at
least.
"There are, but I’m not so sure you’d
want to stay in one."
"I’ve stayed a lot of places the past
five years, Jack. A run-down hotel doesn’t bother me." She took a deep
breath, trying to frame her words in such a way that they didn’t sound
suggestive. "I think I might stay in Riverside for a little while. Can we
meet sometime, catch up on old times, maybe?" The minute she said it, she
could have bitten her tongue. Catch up on old times? What old times? We only
knew each other for three days!
She looked at Jack, gauging his reaction. He
nodded, acting as though there was nothing odd about her words.
"Sure. There’s a café on Main Street
with low prices and good food. I’ll show you where it is on our way into town.
Meet me there at seven."
"All right." Rose wanted to ask if
he would be bringing anyone with him, but held her tongue. It was none of her
business, and she would find out soon enough.
Rose looked around as the wagon jolted its
way into town. There were more cars than in most of the towns she had visited,
though there still weren’t many, and horses, buggies, and wagons were very much
in evidence. A small dog yapped from behind an iron fence as they went by, and
Rose looked at the houses lining the streets—mostly Victorian era buildings,
though there were some newer ones as well.
Jack stopped in front of the warehouse where
he worked and pointed her in the direction of the cheapest hotel in town.
"I’ll see you at seven," he told her, making his way to the warehouse
office door.
Rose nodded, noticing how pronounced his limp
was as he made his way across the open yard. He almost looked as though he
would be more comfortable with a cane to help him walk.
Pushing the thought from her mind, she turned
and headed down the street in the direction of the hotel. She would see him in
the evening—and could ask questions then. In the meantime, she needed to check
into the hotel and look for some kind of work.