The train sped along. The countryside flew by, bathed in early morning dew. It was already hot; every window was open, but they offered little relief. The crowded car overflowed with noise—snoring, quarreling, laughing, eating. It seemed to Jack, as trains always did, that all of the world was gathered together. There was no end to the stories he could find, the people he could draw. He knew he should be worried, at the very least, but all he felt was contentment. Rose slept beside him, her head on his shoulder. He glanced at her. Her cheeks were lightly flushed with the heat, and beads of sweat dotted her neck. He wished he had a way to cool her.

The previous night had gone by so quickly he wasn't even sure it had all happened. They went home and packed their things. They knew they ran the risk of being seen, but they couldn't just give up everything they had. If nothing else, they had to go back and collect their money. Jack left a note for Fabrizo, explaining where they'd gone and why. He hated not saying good-bye in person, but there wasn't time to wait for him. At the bottom of the paper, he added the general delivery address for Chippewa Falls, in case he needed to find them. The vague plan to eventually go there had crystalized into a reality. It just made sense. The odds of Cal tracing them there were low, and it was better to have somewhere to run to, even if they didn't stay forever.

They kept an eye out for Cal's men, but they didn't see any. Finding a poker game was easy, and Rose was accepted with less fuss than Jack expected. They saw her as an easy mark, a girl with money to lose. Rose glanced at him nervously as the cards were dealt, and he tried to reassure her with his eyes. I trust you. Her words kept ringing in his ears, and once again, he was reminded of what a heavy responsibility they brought. He couldn't let her down.

As the game unfolded, Rose's unease melted away, but she kept up a façade of nervousness, even holding the cards incorrectly at times. She looked to Jack, as if for help, and after a while he realized it was all an act. They both sized up the other men at the table, and as they stole a knowing glance at each other, Jack was sure he heard a click, the sound of their minds syncing.

And indeed, it was as if they could read each other's thoughts. Their skills at reading people, learned so differently, coordinated perfectly. Without thinking, Rose devised signals, telling him her strategy. She didn't know where any of it came from. Had these skills been lying dormant in her mind somewhere? Later, she would realize all of her trailing as a society girl and wife had given her everything she needed, just as Jack said.

They had $20.63 saved, and they won another $30.49, more than even Jack had expected. They had train fare to Wisconsin and money to keep them until they figured out what to do next. They left as quickly as they could, realizing the men would soon figure out they had been fooled by Rose's appearance. They ran all the way to the train station, hands clasped. Rose laughed, and she looked as carefree as Jack had ever seen her. He pulled her into the shadows and kissed her. She threw her arms around him. "Is that how you thought it would go?" she asked breathlessly.

"That was better." He kissed her longingly, wanting their connection to go on forever. He hadn't known it was possible to feel this close to anyone; their hearts beat in time, and he wondered how he could have lived so long without her.

Rose's mouth was dry when she woke up, and every muscle in her body was stiff. She looked around, unsure where she was at first. "How long was I asleep?" she asked.

"Since around dawn," he said. "It's past one now."

Her stomach gave a loud growl. "I didn't realize I was so tired," she said, attempting to stretch in their limited space. Jack handed her a sandwich and the flask of water from one of their bags. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "You don't happen to have a tub of cold water in there, do you?"

"Afraid not," he replied. "But I'll get you a bath as soon as we get there. Promise. I'll need one too," he added with a laugh.

"How much longer until we arrive?"

"We should be there tomorrow, sometime," he said. "It's a good thing too. We got just enough food, and we can get more water when the train stops again."

"I wouldn't have thought to bring either of those things," she said, shaking her head.

"Sure you would've."

"No. I've never had to. It wouldn't occur to me," she said. "I still expect to find things done for me, as if by magic, even though I know better. Isn't that awful?"

"You're still adjusting. It hasn't been that long."

"Don't make excuses for me, Jack. I'm a spoiled little brat."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Rose."

"Is this how we'll be?" she asked. "You'll argue with everything I say?"

"When you're mean to yourself, yeah, I will."

"Was that mean?" she said. "It didn't sound so bad to me; I've heard worse."

"You won't, not from me or anyone else, not anymore," he said. "Like we said, one thing at a time. You just gotta try not to think that way about yourself. I don't expect you to know everything I know. And you know plenty of things I don't; you've got skills of your own."

"I did make a nice stack of pancakes, didn't I?" she said, smiling.

"And the way you played last night," he added. "That was amazing."

"You already said that."

"I had to say it again. Rose, you were incredible."

"We both were," she reminded him. "I couldn't have done that on my own."

"I think you could've," he said. "I think you'd be just fine without me."

"Please, don't say that, Jack."

"Why? I just meant—"

"I know what you mean, but it scares me when you talk that way," she said somberly.

"I'm not gonna leave you," he said. "Don't ever be afraid of that."

"I'm not. Not completely. It's the other part of me—the part that's always afraid and doesn't quite believe any of this is real or will last," she replied. "I'm trying not to let her control me, but—"

"Rose-Petal, you don't have to keep explaining yourself to me," he said gently, taking her hand.

Rose sighed. "Explaining myself is one of my skills, I suppose. I just do it, without thinking, even when I don't want to. I've always had to," she added. Her tone lifted. "Let's never talk about any of this again."

"What?"

"I mean it. Jack, let's leave it all back there. We're going somewhere new—well, new for you—and we're really starting our life together, so let's just stop talking about what happened before."

"You can't pretend it didn't happen."

"I'm not saying that. But I don't want to keep discussing it, and I have to work harder to stop," she explained. "I'll never move on if I'm always obsessing over it. How can I make a new life if I won't let the old one go?"

But the old life had no intention of letting her go. Their disappearance had been discovered when neither of them left for work. It was overstepping his orders, but Darrin knew what Cal really mean when he said "stay within the law", so he felt no qualms about breaking into their apartment. It was clean and rather empty. There were only signs of one occupant, but his well-trained eye could tell there had bene more recently. The bedroom was empty, and Fabrizo's things were still in the front room. It was clear he slept there. Darrin quickly went over the small rooms, searching for clues, but found none, only a few hairpins left behind by Rose.

The rest of the team was sent to watch the train station and docks, but Darrin was sure they were already gone, if they weren't hiding somewhere in the city. Still, he hoped to find something to take back to Cal, if only to justify his fees. There would be no avoiding his rage when he learned Rose was gone, but Darrin could handle angry clients.

Rose stuck her head under the tap. The cold water ran down her neck, into her dress, and over her face. It was one of the greatest pleasures she had ever felt. She washed as best she could, cleaned her teeth, and even tried to rinse out her dress a little. Her hair was still wet when she met Jack at the train. His skin glowed from the recent scrubbing, and his hair was damp. He smiled brightly at the sight of her. "Got us fresh water," he said, holding up a large flask.

"How did you get another one?"

"Traded ours to a guy who didn't want to lug around this one," he replied. "There's two of us' we need more anyway."

She drank deeply; the water was still cold. "Thank you," she said, handing it back.

"You don't have to think me for everything," he said.

"I was taught to always be polite," she said, with a teasing smile/ "And it's a good practice. I don't want you thinking I expect anything."

They settled back into their seats, and the train began to move. Now clean and alert, Rose looked around, marveling at her surroundings. The car was nice, but it was nothing compared to the private compartments she was used to. It was impossible to pick out a single conversation in the chorus of voices. She met the eyes of some of the other women, and there was an exchange of friendly smiles. The thought of being counted as one of them gave her a warm feeling. She sat a little straighter and took Jack's hand, proud of herself and proud to be with him.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Yes."

They fell into a comfortable silence, each watching the stories unfolding around them. Rose watched a group of children playing. All were golden-haired, and she decided they must be siblings. She couldn't help wondering what the child she and Jack would eventually have would look like. Children, rather, for they would certainly have more than one. The thought of having children with Cal had been abhorrent; she would never have any say over their lives, and he wouldn't be any kinder to them than he was to her. Rose hated knowing there would be nothing she could do about it. Being mistreated herself was bearable, most of the time, but she didn't think she could watch her children receive the same. She glanced over at Jack. It wouldn't be that way with him.

Jack was trying to stop memories from resurfacing. The closer they got, the clearer they became. The house. The lake. The woods he roamed through. The fields he worked in. He tried not to see his parents, but they appeared anyway. He heard his mother's scolding as she patched up his clothes, yet again, though there was affection in her eyes. He saw his father, the day he showed him how to shoot, and then when he showed him how to bait a hook. He realized he wanted to show Rose those things.

There was one face he managed to keep at way. Hers. Lucy. He told himself she was married now, happy, and she wouldn't even remember him. They had been kids; it was all so long ago. He knew it hurt her when he left, but he had to go. There was no other way. Surely, she understood by now. They wouldn't have been happy together.

….

Cal chose his words carefully, refusing to let his emotions overtake him. "What does that mean, pursuing leads?" he asked. "Is that a way of saying you don't know where they are?"

"Well, honestly, no, we don't," Darrin said. "But it won't take long to find out. I can assure you. After all, you hired the best."

"You certainly cost enough, but I'm beginning to doubt you're worth it," Cal said derisively. "So far, you've managed to get very little right."

"You did tell us not to approach her."

Cal frowned. "So I did." He twirled a letter open between his fingers; it gleamed in the light, looking more like a newly sharpened weapon than a mere office tool. "Find her," he said. "Do whatever you have to. Just don't get caught, and don't tell me anything. Do you understand?"

Despite the train's bumping, Rose's shuffling skills were improving. She used her lap as a table and practiced to pass the time. "We could make a career out of this," Jack joked.

"What, do you mean card playing?"

He nodded. "People do it. Usually just one guy on his own, but we could do it."

"Doing well in one game hardly makes either of us professional gamblers," she said. "Still, I would like to play again."

"You would?"

She grinned sheepishly. "It was fun. And not just because we took those men's money."

"Hey, that part's fun too," he said. "And we needed it."

"But maybe he did too," she mused.

"Rose, you can't think that way if you're gonna play," he said. "I know what you're saying, and you might be right, but we needed it too. And we didn't make them give it to us, and we didn't cheat. They just assumed you didn't know how to play."

"Why can't things be black and white?" she asked, dealing the cards. "Why does everything we do have to be grey?"

"I don't know," he answered.

…..

Rose fell asleep first, lulled by the heat and the rocking of the train. The lights in the car were dim, and Jack couldn't see much. He wasn't bothered by it. He put an arm around Rose, moving her closer in an attempt to make her more comfortable. He could sleep sitting up and wake up without any aches or pains. He could probably sleep standing up, though he hadn't tried.

Jack was starting to drift off when Rose began to fidget. "No," she murmured, shaking her head. She clutched him with one hand and fought off an unseen attacker with the other. "No. Jack."

He lifted her head and gave her a gentle shake. "Rose, wake up."

"Jack." Her voice rose.

"It's just a dream," he said.

Rose blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. "A dream?" she said. She touched his face, making sure he was real.

"Yes. You fell asleep, remember?"

"I did, didn't I?" she said. She lay back against him, hugging him. He stroked her hair. "It was awful, Jack."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

She shook her head. "I want to forget it."

….

The most logical thing to do was focus on Fabrizo. If anyone knew where they were, it was him. Darrin followed him the next day, learning his routine. If he was lucky, Fabrizo would lead him right to them, one way or another.

The sun was sinking behind the trees when the train came to a stop for the last time. Wearily, they gathered their things and followed the line of people outside. Rose wobbled, her legs unsteady after being out of use for so long. Jack put a hand on her back, steadying her. "Thank you," she said. She looked around the small train station. "Now what?"

"I don't know about you," he said. "But I need something to eat."

"A meal would be nice," she agreed.

Once again, they washed as best they could, but Rose couldn't help feeling dirty. She was sure the people they passed were thinking the same thing; why else look at her so curiously? Of course, it was the richness of her dress, plain as it was, and the fact that she was a stranger that drew their attention. Jack kept his head down, wishing he had a hat. It no longer seemed like such a good idea to be there. There would be questions—endless questions, about where he'd gone and why, why he'd come back, and about Rose. What would they say? He realized they had never decided on a story. Even saying they met on a ship was too much; someone might make the connection, though what they could do with it, he didn't know. No-one could prove anything, and they weren't criminals. But still, he felt like a fugitive. There would be questions no matter where they went, he reminded himself. New arrivals always aroused curiosity. But only here did he have to worry about judgment.

They managed to eat without anyone speaking to them, but word that Jack—or someone who looked very much like Jack—had returned began to spread. His sudden departure had been a shock, perhaps one of the biggest the tone had ever seen. Why that boy had just abandoned his family's property, his friends, and the girl he was practically engaged to was a topic some people still debated when there was nothing else to talk about. Equally debated was where he had gone if he would ever return. Some claimed he was on the run from the law, that he was actually a notorious bank robber that had plagued the area, though not many people believed that story. Others said he hadn't left at all but had been killed by Lucy's family, so they could get control of his property. But if that was the case, they'd failed. The Dawson farm had been empty since the day Jack left; the local judge refused to let anyone touch it until seven years passed or official word of Jack's death reached him.

They got a room in the cheaper of the two hotels. It wasn't much, but it was tidy, and there was a bed. There was also a bathroom at the end of the hall, with a tub and running water. Rose filled it with hot water, despite the temperature outside, and sank gratefully into it. Her skin glowed pink when she emerged. She wore a soft, blue nightgown. Jack couldn't resist pulling her to him. She smelled like soap and flowers, so clean and fresh. He wanted to lose himself in her.

"Take your back," she said, kissing his hair.

Reluctantly, he let her go. "Be right back."

…..

The bed was softer than she expected. Rose stretched, luxuriating in the freedom to move however she chose. She sighed as Jack lay down next to her. She snuggled close as he put his arms around her. The breeze that blew in through the window combined with the ceiling fan to cool the room nicely.

"We made it," she said.

"We did."

"What are we going to do now?" she asked after a moment.

"I don't know," he said. "I guess see if I can still claim my property."

"And we'll live there if you can?"

"Maybe," he said slowly. "Yeah. For a while. That's the whole point of coming here, isn't it? But it may not work," he added. It was something he hadn't thought of in their rush to get there. How would they survive here? What would they do for money? Jack hadn't wanted to be a farmer; he never really had, though he was good at it. But if they claimed the land, that what he'd have to do. Unless there was some other way. It wasn't large enough to rent out, and who would want it? Everyone owned their own place that wanted one. Selling was an option, but he didn't want to do that unless he had to. There was something comforting about knowing he owned land, no matter how far away from it he went.

Maybe he could work in town, somewhere. They could keep a garden, just for themselves, make a few animals, but not fully run the place. Yes, that was a possibility. They wouldn't need much.

Rose was heavy with sleep. He wondered if she heard his doubts; probably not, he decided. He closed his eyes, imagining the home they would make, the things he would show her.

AN: This is probably the last update for any of my stories until January.