Jack didn't leave Rose's side until the next morning. She was sleeping; her fever was down, and for the first time since it all began, he felt hungry. He whistled for Lady to follow him. She ran toward the door, tail wagging, but then she stopped and looked back at Rose.
"C'mon, girl," he said.
She let out a low whine in reply.
Jack bent down to pet her head. "She'll be alright while we're gone," he said. "It'll just be a few minutes."
It was bitterly cold outside. Jack stood on the porch, hands in his coat pockets, and breathed through his scarf. Lady ran through the yard, overjoyed to be outside again. At his whistle, she bounded up to the porch, panting. "That's enough," he said, giving her ears a scratch.
The house was silent. Rose and Lucy were asleep. Fabrizo had gone home to deal with things there. Adam and Billy were out clearing away branches, and Tom was on his way into town. Jack didn't know most of this; he only knew the empty house gave him an eerie feeling he didn't like. In the kitchen he found breakfast leftovers. He ate ravenously. Lady watched from his feet, head titled expectantly. "Here you go," he said, tossing a bit of sausage down to her. She looked up at him, awaiting more. He chuckled. "I'm not supposed to do this. Shouldn't feed dogs from your plate." But he gave her more anyway. Poor thing. She'd been through nearly as much as Rose. It was incredible she'd managed to stay with her through it all.
Jack heated a pot of water on the stove. He'd take a real bath later. For now, just cleaning up a little would do. When he was finished he made a pot of tea and carried it upstairs, along with fresh toast.
Rose's breathing worried him. He touched his wrist to her forehead. She was warm, but not hot, at least.
"Rose?" he said softly. He kissed her cheek. "You gotta wake up for a minute."
"Why?" she murmured. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jack said reassuringly. "Everything's fine. You've gotta take some medicine, and then you can go back to sleep. And I need you to eat, Rose. Please."
"I'm not hungry."
"I know you don't feel hungry," he said. "But you are. You haven't eaten in days. You can't get better if you don't. Here. I brought you some tea and toast."
"Is there jam?"
"There's jam," he said. "I couldn't find milk for you tea, though."
"That's alright," Rose said.
She ate slowly. Swallowing hurt, but the warm tea felt good going down her throat. "Maybe I was hungry," she said when she finished. Jack poured her another cup of tea. "I can get you something else," he offered.
"You don't have to."
He held out a spoonful of medicine. "Do you want something else?"
She nodded. She made a face as she swallowed the bitter liquid. "How much more of this do I have to take?"
"Two more spoonfuls," Jack answered. "But they're different stuff, so maybe it won't be so bad."
She swallowed the next two quickly. "They were," she said, gulping down tea.
"Sorry, Petal. But they're helping," he said.
"Do you really think so?" Rose said. "I don't feel any better." She lay back. "Everything hurts. When I'm not cold, I'm hot. I'm so tired, but when I sleep…."
"What?"
Rose's eyes were heavy. "I see him," she said. "It's like it's all happening all over again. I'm lost, and he's chasing me. No matter how fast I run I can't get away. It's so cold, and I can't find you. In my dream you're gone, and I know he's already found you. You're—" Her voice broke.
"I'm not," Jack said, lifting her into his lap. "I'm right here with you. He can't touch us. You'll never be lost or chased again. Trust me, Rose."
"I don't trust much of anything anymore."
"Not even me?" he asked.
She laid her head on his shoulder. "If I trust anyone, it's you."
"You don't have to be afraid," Jack said. "No-one here's gonna hurt you."
"They've been so nice to me, and I'm causing them so much trouble. What happened to Lucy is my fault. They should all hate me. Even Fabrizo," Rose said. "It's my problem, and I brought them into it."
"No, Rose, you can't think that way," Jack said. "None of this was your fault. He caused everything. He's the one who hurt you and Lucy. He's the one who should be hated, not you. Never you." Gently, he raised her head so their eyes met. "I don't know what he told you, but it was a lie," he went on. "He hurt you because he wanted to. That's it."
"I wish I knew why," she said. "Maybe that would help. At first I thought it was something I'd done or something he thought I'd done, but that's not it."
"We'll probably never know. Try not to think about it."
"I can't stop myself," Rose said, a sob in her throat. She pressed her face against Jack's shirt. His scent was imbedded in the cloth. Despite his attempt at a bath, he'd been wearing the same clothes for days. Fabrizo was supposed to be bringing him clean ones. Jack hadn't given it much thought. A fresh shirt seemed insignificant with everything else going on.
"Can we go home?" she asked.
"I wish we could, but you can't go out in the cold. You'll get worse."
"I want our bed," she said.
Jack kissed her. "Me too."
…..
Fabrizo came back with clothes for the three of them and a bag of food. He figured it was one small way to repay what the McCulloughs had done for them. At least they wouldn't be eating up all their supplies. He knew they weren't thrilled about him being there. Tom seemed to mind less, but he wasn't so sure about the other two.
Fabrizo said it wasn't Jack's fault, but that didn't stop him from blaming himself. They were right. He could've warned them. He knew Cal was out there, looking for Rose, and he knew what he was capable of. He'd seen it firsthand. He'd even run from it. But it wasn't his secret to tell. How could he know telling them wouldn't just put Rose—and Jack as well—in even more danger?
Fabrizo knocked quietly.
"Come in," Jack said.
Fabrizo smiled at Rose. "You're looking better."
"Thank you," she said. "Jack told me the same thing, but I didn't believe him."
"He's right," Fabrizo assured her.
The bruises were still dark, but they were fading. All the swelling had gone down. Her eyes weren't blurred with fever anymore. She didn't look well by any means, but even a small improvement was better than none.
"I brought you some clothes," Fabrizo said, handing Jack a bag. "There's some for you, and uh, things for Rose." He blushed, self-conscious now. She knew he'd gone into her drawers and touched her clothes. "I should've asked fist, but—"
"No, it's fine," Rose said. "I'd like to have my own things. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Rosa."
"Thanks Fabri," Jack said. "Everything okay at home?"
"Everything's fine," Fabrizo said. "I'm gonna see about fixing the windows next week."
"You don't hafta go to all that trouble," Jack said. "I'll get around to it."
"I don't mind," Fabrizo said. "Really. I'mm gonna go make dinner before everyone else gets back."
"You're making dinner?" Rose said.
"I thought it'd be a nice favor," Fabrizo said. "I told Lucia I'd cook for her." He smiled wanly. "I didn't think it would be like this."
"Jack's been telling me to eat," Rose said.
"Well, I'll make something you can't resist," Fabrizo said.
…
Billy and Adam came home first. They trooped into the kitchen, shivering, faces red with cold. They noticed the smell immediately. Fabrizo was at the stove, stirring the contents of a large pot. "What is that?" Adam asked, shrugging out of his coat.
"Zuppa di pollo siciliana," Fabrizo answered.
"Zopa de pollo sicilana?" Adam said, mangling the words.
"Zuppa di pollo siciliana," Fabrizo said slowly. "It's Sicilian chicken soup. I wanted to make something the girls could eat too."
"What's in it?" Billy asked.
"Chicken, onions, peppers, parsley, garlic, celery, ditalini pasta, there's a lot of things in it," Fabrizo said.
"That's where you're from, right? Sicily?" Billy said.
"Si." Fabrizo grinned at their blank looks. "Yes."
"And you really know both languages," Adam said.
"Mostly," Fabrizo said. "Italian's easier. More familiar, you know? I've been teaching Rosa. She was teaching me French."
"She knows French?" Adam said.
"She's good with words," Fabrizo replied. "Jack knows a little of both. Lucia wanted to learn." He looked down into the soup. "I promised I'd teach her. And cook for her."
"I'm sure she'll like that," Billy said.
….
"He's still in jail," Tom said. "Harry's sticking to his word. The story's gotten around a little, but I don't think most people really know what happened. Aside from the deputies, I doubt people even realize he's there."
"Too bad it can't stay that way," Fabrizo said.
"What makes you say that?" Tom asked.
"I come from a small town like this," Fabrizo replied. "I know the damage stories can do."
"We're a little more progressive here," Tom said.
"Are you?" Fabrizo countered.
Adam and Billy exchanged looks. They sat at the table. Tom stood by the stove, Fabrizo opposite him. Jack leaned against the wall, in the middle. Billy glanced at Jack. He seemed to be staring off into space. "No, we're not," Jack said. "We can talk about what it'll be like once word gets out, but we can't really know." He lifted his eyes. "All I care about is seeing him get what he deserved, and that he can't hurt anyone else. I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen."
"It's not for you to do, Jack," Fabrizo said.
"I'm not gonna do anything crazy," Jack said. "Don't worry."
"Is there any more news?" Adam asked.
"Not really," Tom said. "Harry's still taking before the judge on Monday. We'll know more after that."
"You think Judge Fredrickson will really keep him locked up?" Billy said. "He's not from around here."
"He committed a crime here," Adam pointed out. "Doesn't matter where he's from."
"Sure it does," Fabrizo said. "If he were me, we wouldn't be talking like this. We'd know." There was a heavy silence. Everyone but Jack avoided his eyes. "If he were one of us, maybe we wouldn't be sure," Fabrizo went on. "But we'd be confident."
"So he's got money," Billy said. "So—"
"It's not just the money," Fabrizo said. "That's part of it. A big part, but it's not everything." He looked around, feeling he'd said too much. "I'll be outside."
"It's freezing," Tom said.
"I know."
When he was gone Jack said, "You know he's right."
Tom studied the table. "People were saying things today."
"Who? What kind of things?" Adam asked.
"About Fabrizo and Lucy," Tom said. "Mostly the deputies. No-one else knows."
"About them being together?" Billy said.
Tom nodded. "And us allowing it."
"What do you think?" Jack asked.
"We know he loves her," Tom said. "And she cares for him."
"That's not what I'm asking," Jack said.
"Jack-"
"You know what I'm asking," Jack pressed. "You aren't going to keep them apart over some gossip, are you?"
"Does it look like we are?" Billy said. "He's here, isn't he?"
"Things change," Jack said. "You're gonna say it's not my business, but he's one of my best friends, and I've known you all a long time. I left. I know. I've done something…but they could really be happy together," Jack finished.
"We've watched our sister be miserable long enough," Tom said. "We won't be the cause of it."
….
"How're you feeling?" Fabrizo asked. He sat down next to Lucy's bed. She was sitting up, soup bowl in hand. "Much better," she said. She spoke with the thick voice of a heavy cold. "Your soup helped."
"I was hoping it would."
"This is my second bowl," she said.
"I'll make something else tomorrow," he promised.
"Where did you get the ingredients?"
"I brought them from home," Fabrizo replied. "You don't keep them in your kitchen."
Lucy laughed. "No, we don't. I doubt we've ever cooked anything quite like this." She put the bowl on the table and held out her hand for him to take. "Do you still want to show me Italy?"
"Do you still want to go?"
"Yes," Lucy said. "Si. That's right, isn't it?"
"That's right, Lucia." He leaned closer. "I'll take you." He hesitated. "But we'd have to be…"
"Married?" she said.
He grinned nervously. "Si. Sposato."
"Sposato," Lucy repeated.
"You speak it well."
"Maybe I'll learn," she said.
Their hands were clasped. Fabrizo looked into her eyes. "Lucia-" He wanted to say it in English, but the words wouldn't come. English was an ugly language, bumpy and coarse. Not like Italian. Italian was smooth and flowed like wine. "Ti amo. Sposami. Possiamo essere felici insieme." I love you. Marry me. We can be happy together.
Lucy couldn't understand the words, and yet she knew what he was saying. "Yes," she said. "I will."
…
"One more spoonful," Jack said. Rose groaned. "C'mon, Petal, it's helping. The doctor's coming tomorrow. You don't want him to think I'm a bad nurse, do you?"
"Maybe I'm just a difficult patient." She scrunched her nose as the medicine went down. "I've never had a nurse like you before. They were always women in starched white uniforms who called me Miss."
"I call you Miss," he said with a lopsided smile.
"They didn't say it the way you do."
Rose smiled, and for a moment things were normal. There was a flirtatious crackle in the air; any other time a kiss would have followed. Jack wanted to kiss her, but he was afraid to. She hadn't stopped him earlier. She hadn't said a word about being touched, but he couldn't help feeling like he shouldn't unless asked.
Rose pulled the blanket up to her chin. "Are you cold?" he asked.
She nodded. "A little."
Jack felt her forehead. "You're a little hot."
"It hurts, Jack."
"What does, Petal?"
"Everything," she said.
He knew she was talking about more than her body. For now, that was the thing he could take care of. Nothing mattered if she slipped away from him. "Do you want me to get you something?" he asked.
"No. Will you lie here with me?"
Jack climbed into bed next to her. He wrapped his arms around her. "That good?"
"Mmm-hmm."
He pressed his lips to her hair. "You can sleep, Rose. You're safe."
With his arms around her, and his heartbeat under her ear, Rose could almost believe it. If only that was the whole problem. The certainty that everything that had happened was her fault, that not only had she caused it, but she deserved it, pressed down upon her. She fought it, but part of her kept insisting it would have been better if Cal had taken her back. If she'd let him. He might kill her, eventually, but at least everyone else would be safe.
….
"I can feel you thinking." Jack's voice was low. Rose looked out into the darkness. She couldn't remember waking up. Every breath sent a cold pain through her chest. It was like being stabbed with ice.
"You should go back to sleep," she said. The urge to cough was strong. "I'm fine."
"Try sitting up."
"What?" she said.
Jack turned the pillows so she was reclined against them, but her back was up. "You need to cough," he said. He lightly pressed a hand to her chest. "It hurts right here, doesn't it?"
"How do you know?"
"I can hear it," he said. "And I've been sick like that."
"You have. When?"
"A long time ago," he said. He gave her a fresh handkerchief. "It's easier if you cough. You'll get better faster."
"Why are you doing this, Jack?"
"Doing what?"
"Taking care of me," Rose said.
"How can you ask that?"
"After what I've caused—"
"No," Jack said, cutting her off. "Now, I want you to listen to me, Rose. This wasn't your fault. Alright? I love you, and I'm gonna do whatever I can to get you better. I'm not letting you go yet. It's not time. Whatever you might feel, fight it because you belong here, with me; we can't have our life together without you, Rose."
Rose tried to speak, but a coughing fit overtook her. She pitched forward, handkerchief pressed to her lips. Her body shook with each cough. She drew in a ragged breath. Each one hurt more than the last. Jack rubbed her back. "Let it out."
"I hate this," Rose gasped.
"Me too."
"You shouldn't be so close to me," she said. "You'll get sick."
"I'm not worried. Already had it, and I've got a strong system," Jack replied. "I can handle it."
She could only make out his shape in the dark. "You know, don't you?"
"Know what, Rose?"
"You know about the baby," she said in a small voice.
"I know," Jack said slowly. "They told me yesterday after…after I got here."
"I was waiting to tell you."
"We don't have to talk about it now," he said.
"I want to," Rose said. "Jack, I wasn't sure. I thought maybe, but I didn't know yet. I—I'd never been, at least I don't think so. When I was with Cal, things were never…never right, and I—" She closed her eyes, but the tears pushed through. She wrapped her arms around Jack, holding him with all her strength. "I was just thinking about surviving," she sobbed. "I didn't—I didn't think about—"
"You don't have to explain," Jack said. "I don't blame you. You're alive. I wouldn't have it any other way, Rose. We can have another one, eventually."
"I wanted that one," Rose said. "On the train I saw these children, and I thought about what ours would be like."
"I've thought about it too."
"I feel like I've ruined everything," she said. "Everyone's lives. I've hurt you all."
"Please, Rose, please don't think that way," Jack begged. "Knowing you have been the most wonderful experience of my life. You-I-There aren't words, Rose. I love you." He kissed her. "Don't leave me."
