Authors Notes: I've had this tucked away on my laptop for quite some time. I guess I should have published it before Somewhere Special in Time, but here's a look at Jack and Rose's little family that was missing between Lacy and Stained and Somewhere Special in Time.

Relentless Night

Chapter One

May 19th, 1917

Miles City, Montana

Breakfast that morning was messy as usual. Six year old Valentina had used too much strawberry jam on her pancakes and it oozed from the edge of the plate. Freshly four year old Charlie was shooting blueberries like marbles. There wasn't much Rose could do to stop the madness as it unfolded, so she resigned to simply watching and catching any blueberries that came her way. She considered it a win she had confined Valentina's tight curls atop her head. She sipped her coffee as she heard boots thud to the stairs. After a moment, Jack emerged into the kitchen and began pulling a mug down from the cabinet. The middle of the month was always chaotic for the magazine publisher as they jumped the final hurdles on pushing the next magazine out, an endeavor that brought its own unique problems to light every month. As he filled his mug up with warm coffee, Rose pecked him on the cheek. He grinned, looking past her.

"Another morning in the mess hall, huh?"

Rose laughed lightly and went to the stove, fixing Jack's plate of eggs, sausage, and pancakes. "As long as majority of it makes it into their mouths, I'm content. Though I can't say I enjoy scrubbing jam off the floor every morning."

"You guys just like giving your mom a hard time, huh?" Jack leaned down and gave Valentina a kiss on her forehead before he deftly caught a blueberry heading his way, sending the young Charlie into a fit of giggles. The four year old was rapidly springing up to resemble his father in his youth. Jack seated himself at the table as Rose brought his plate to him. Too slow, though, because she missed a blueberry as it catapulted itself off the table and rolled across the floor.

"Maybe we should get a dog so I don't have to clean as much," Rose said, earning a snicker from Jack.

"Find those pancakes beneath your jam, Tina, so I can get you to school on time," Jack nodded towards his daughter. Just one more year and Rose could breath a sigh of relief sending both the children off to school. Charlie was quite a handful some days that Rose never got much writing done. Their son was obviously showing signs of picking up artistic nature, but Rose wished it didn't find itself on the walls in bright colored markers. Jack had repainted the office two times that year alone when Rose had forgotten to look up every five minutes to check on him. He was shaping up to be a typical boy who skinned his knees and dirtied laundry faster than his mother could keep up with.

"There's a spelling bee at school today," Valentina told them as she spooned a large clump of strawberry jam into her mouth. Her lips were sticky and stained. "I practiced all the words in my workbook last night. The winner gets a fountain pen! Then I will be just like Momma with her fancy collection on her desk!"

"Oh, that's wonderful, Valentina," Rose smiled, seating herself at the other end of the table from Jack. "If you win that fountain pen, I'll start teaching you cursive."

"Do you know how to spell 'sky'?" Charlie asked, his blond bangs falling across his bold brow.

"There aren't any three lettered words," Valentina almost snorted. "Do you even know how to spell 'sky', Charlie?"

"Of course!" He shot back. "S-K-I!"

The entire table shared a few chuckles and Jack lowered his mug. "Not quite, bud. You spelled ski, like what you do down a snowy mountain. Sky has a Y in it."

"It's not fair!" Charlie crossed his arms over his chest, sticking a pouty lip out. "When do I get to go to school like Tina?!"

"Not soon enough..." Rose mumbled from behind a mug. Jack grinned crookedly at her.

"Next fall, bud. It'll be here faster than you know it," Jack told him, spearing a sausage onto his fork. "Soon enough, you'll be begging to stay home again. Enjoy it while you can."

Breakfast continued on for a few more moments before there was a thud just outside the front door. Rose perked up, looking over her shoulder. "That must have been the paper boy. Good timing. Junie Elder was telling me she had submitted a recipe for key lime pie that sounded divine. I didn't have a way to write it down when I bumped into her at post office."

"Ah, good, I wanted to see the weather predictions for this weekend. Me and Charlie were gonna hike Bunny Hill."

"It's called Rabbit Hill, Dad," Charlie told him, rolling his blueberries back and forth on his plate. "Peter Winston next door broke his ankle when he fell into a rabbit hole last summer!" He broke into snickers.

"That's not very nice, Charlie," Rose said as she stood and went to the foyer. When she opened the front door, she was greeted by a pleasantly warm breeze and she sipped her coffee as she knelt down and grabbed the rolled paper. Rose froze, however, when she saw the blaring, bold headline at the top of the paper.

PRESIDENT WILSON SIGNS SELECT DRAFT ACT INTO LAW. ALL MEN 21 TO 30 TO REPORT FOR MILITARY REGISTRATION.

Rose dropped her mug and the hot coffee splattered across the front porch, the shards of the mug bouncing against the railing. The frame of her body began to shake violently. She and Jack had been paying close attention to the war waging in Europe. As Jack had said, it was none of the United States business to get involved. Rose had clung to the hope he was right and that America would remain neutral. But something had changed. Something horrible had happened.

"Rose?" Jack appeared in the front door at the sound of her coffee mug shattering. "You alright?" When she looked to him, he could have sworn she had just seen a ghost. Rigidly, Rose extended the paper out to Jack who furrowed his brow and took it into his hand. "Well I'll be god damned..." He muttered, his eyes hovering over the assaulting headline. "Guess they're still jaded about the Lusitania."

Despite the onset of summer in the mountain town, Rose felt herself overcome with cold and she hugged herself, her wide green eyes filled with a fear she never had felt before. "How can you be so casual about this, Jack? What's going to happen?" Jack sighed and glanced into the house before he pulled the door shut. Rose did not care that she was standing in spilled coffee. In that moment, she felt the need to touch Jack and she reached out, running her hands along his sleeves.

"Lets not get too worried," Jack told her, taking her hand into his. Their attention was momentarily interrupted as a boy on a bike wheeled by, followed by a herd of noisy children. Jack sighed again. He needed to walk Valentina to school. Rose was in pieces, though. "Look, it says I have twenty-one days to register at the post office. There's a lot of men the same age as me. What are the chances they'll even need me? More and more people have been in favor of joining the conflict, I'm sure there will be plenty of volunteers who step up."

"I don't know, Jack," Rose shook her head, tightening her grip around his calloused palm. "There are a lot of people in Europe..."

The front door opened and Valentina appeared. Her backpack was slung over her wiry shoulder and she fumbled with the buttons of her brown cardigan. "Momma, can you help me? I think they're crooked." Rose's heart beat furiously in her chest as she looked to Jack before she straightened her face and knelt down to help her daughter. As Rose fixed them, Valentina cocked her head up to look at Jack. "Will you quiz me on some words on the way to school, Daddy?"

"You got it, kiddo," Jack grinned, rolling the newspaper up and jamming it into the mailbox mounted beside the door. "Spell Mississippi for me right now!"

Valentina giggled infectiously, her little shoulders bobbing. "Daddy, that's not a word in my workbook!" Rose adjusted the bow in Valentina's dark hair and straightened her skirt.

"Alright, you're off the hook," Jack placed his hands to his hips as Rose stood now, trying to focus on her daughter. "Here, give me your workbook. We'll do a speed run on the way." Jack picked her up and swung her off the porch so she wouldn't get sticky coffee all over her shoes. He tucked the book under his arm. "Let me just get my coat and tell your mother and brother bye, alright?" Together, the couple went back into the foyer. Charlie had migrated into the living room and had spilled his blocks everywhere from his toy hamper. Rose was rigid with nervousness as she fished Jack's coat off the rack and he shrugged into it.

"Jack, I..."

"Rose, darling," He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. He pressed his forehead to hers. "Please... I don't want you to get yourself so worked up about this. We'll cross that bridge when we get there, alright?"

"How can I relax after what I just read?" Rose tilted her head back to look at him. "Jack, if you're drafted, what will I do? I can't do this without you."

"Just take a breath for me, alright?" Jack ran his hand along her cheek fleetingly.

"There's so many men to keep track of," Rose shook her head now. "What if... what if you just don't register?"

"Well, then, I'll go to jail," Jack managed to crack a boyish smile. "You and Charlie should go out and do something today. Maybe go to the park? I know his one wish in life is making a rock skip on the water." Together, they peered over the couch to see a very unstable and teetering tower that a four year old seemed so grossly fascinated with. "Like I said," His voice drew her back to his face. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Lets not get ahead of ourselves, okay?"

Rose took in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring. "Okay, Jack..." She said, despite a flaring pit of doom welling up in her stomach. So many scenarios were running through her mind, terror not far off the edges of her thoughts. She kissed Jack deeply. "I love you."

"And I love you," He said, opening the front door and taking a wide step over the sticky puddle of coffee. "I'll see you later!"

"Bye, Momma!" Valentina waved, jumping up and down in the grass.

"Have a good day at school, baby," Rose said, leaning against the threshold and trying to take herself on moment by moment. "I'll be thinking of you during the spelling bee."

Jack had already opened the workbook as Valentina was magnetically attracted to his side, gripping his large hand. "Alright, spell 'decided'. Don't forget to sound it out."

He opened the gate for her and Rose watched with a bleeding heart as they stepped out together on the street. "D-e-c-i-d-e-d! Decided!"

...

The warm summer sun beat down on Rose as she sat on a bench, clenching nearly every fiber of her being. Not too far off, young Charlie dawdled in the sandbox and, thankfully, was sharing his shovel and bucket with another young girl. As Rose watched her son, she was powerless to combat the endless thoughts clawing at her mind. In their five year marriage, Rose knew Jack like the back of her hand. But at that moment, she had absolutely no idea what he was thinking. Was he really not worried at all? Jack was young and healthy, how could they overlook that? He worked hard and was honest. All amazing characteristics that placed him in the line of fire, Rose was certain. What would she do if the orders came? What would their life become if America became too far involved in this world conflict? Rose only wanted the best for her children. In education, happiness, safety, and comfort. But without their father, how would that ever be fulfilled? She tried to think back on Jack's words, to not let herself venture too far forward. We'll cross that bridge when we get there. How could Rose make sure that bridge never emerged?

"Well, hey there, Rose!"

The red headed woman's head snapped up as the brim of a large, floppy sun hat shaded her. It was Maggie Hendricks pushing a baby carriage, dutifully rocking it back and forth as she came to a stop. Maggie and Rose had overlapping social circles. Maggie was a wonderful seamstress and was involved in helping the school pageants despite her son, Max, being a year younger than Charlie. Her husband, Arthur, was an architect who had just finished the new music hall that was set to open in the beginning of June.

"Mind if I sit with you? These new shoes are rubbin' blisters on my ankles," She had a heavy southern accent that gave her a very nice charm.

Rose mustered a smile up. "Of course." Maggie let out a long sigh as she got herself off her feet, pulling the carriage closer. Rose peered in beneath the shade of it to spy three year old Max, with his pudgy legs and round body adorned in a lacy fashion no doubt conjured up through Maggie's sewing machine. "Max is looking healthy."

"A little too healthy," Maggie teased, pulling the wriggling baby into her lap and giving him a bob. "Arthur was a chunky kid, too, before he discovered the great outdoors." She glanced around for a moment before her pearly smile grew wider. "Oh, I see little Charlie over there. Such a good sharer. You ready for him to head off to school next year?"

For just a moment, Rose felt a pulsation of blood through her temples. It was hard thinking about the future, it was so cloudy. "Honestly, yes," Rose shot Maggie a crooked grin. "Ever since he started walking and talking and arming himself with markers, it's been impossible for me to get much done with my books. My editor is expecting six chapters by the end of June and I barely have two. I couldn't even tell you how many ideas I've lost when I've been interrupted by his sudden murals on the wall."

"Sounds like he's a lot like his daddy," Maggie said, securing a hat over Max's dark curly locks.

"Yes," Rose sighed lovingly, watching as her son scooped a pile of sand closer to him. "He really is..."

"Did you see Junie Elder finally gave up the secret of her key lime pie in the paper?" Maggie perked up in the next moment. "I just knew she was using condensed milk. She was always tryin' to throw me off the trail. I'm gonna do her one better and bring a key lime pie to the next block party. I'll add extra salt to my graham crackers and blow everyone away!"

"I didn't make it that far into the paper..." Rose shook her head, her eyes still hovering on Charlie as he crawled about in the sandbox, trying to create a lopsided masterpiece.

"Oh, you read that rubbish about President Wilson stickin' his hands in pots they don't belong?" Maggie glanced to Rose as Max chewed on the lacy bib of his jumper.

"Maggie, Jack is twenty-seven."

The two women were quiet for a moment, only the sound of hollering children ringing out and Max's baby babble. "Well, surely they won't... I mean... I don't know how a draft works, but Jack's got a business and a family. They should take the single men. Not the ones this world relies on."

"I'm frightened, Maggie," Rose said, keeping her eyes trained forward. In her lap, her fingers twisted and curled around each other. "What if he registers and he gets the call-up notice? What will I do? How will I cope? This war is becoming a big deal for everyone in the world. I'd be fooling myself if I said they wouldn't need him."

"President Wilson has made a grave mistake," Maggie shook her head. "What's happenin' in Europe is none of our business."

"I'm worried things will get much worse," Rose now looked to her friend who held her baby close for comfort. "Sending our men off to war... what's to become of us here as our nation piles forward into the conflict? What about our children and our food? Our quality of life as we know it?"

Maggie only shook her head, looking to the sandbox where Charlie had stood up and tried to no avail to get all the sand out from his trousers. "I don't know why we can't just all get along."

...

The post office had been a chaotic, buzzing mess. To no avail, several women had been there trying to mop their tears up and fight for their sons and husbands to not leave. Many men stood in line, deflated by the idea of giving their information at the desk. Jack had been one of them, queued up, meandering forward, his hands jammed in his pockets like a fool. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't that serious. It was all just protocol and bureaucracy. He was on the high side of the draft age. Surely there were younger, healthier men they could take that didn't have two young children to look after. Or a business. The office that day was hectic as usual, but every man there seemed to step differently and speak with a different air to them. Nobody under thirty in that room dared to utter a word about what they had read on their front stoop that morning.

The people sitting at the desk, taking in all the information, seemed glum and gray. After Jack scribbled his information down, he was given a card that boldly had JUNE 5TH, 1917 stamped at the top. That would be the official day of registration when he would learn his fate. Jack and Rose had had desires to take the children to the west coast to soak in the beach and unwind from the school year in mid-June. But now, Jack felt as if he was simply floating in life, confined with chains to the country he lived in. As he pushed out the door of the post office, brushing by sobbing wives and upset children, he stared at his registration card. Class II.

The sound of the school yard roused his attention and Jack looked up, arching his eyebrows. He wasn't aware he had walked the entire way without even thinking about it. Just over the picket fence, the children were released in hoards from their classes. Some played on the swings and monkey bars while they waited for their parents, while the more studious ones read under trees in the shade. Jack spotted Valentina in her black and red gingham dress as she bade her teacher goodbye. Quickly, he tucked the card away and forced a smile as Valentina bolted across the yard.

"Daddy!" She was nearly breathless as she pushed the creaky gate open and bounded to him, wrapping her arms around his hips. "I won! I won!"

"Really!" Jack grinned and picked her up, spinning her in a circle. "You're a spelling whiz, Valentina! Let me see your prize."

She was careless as she dropped her backpack to the ground, rifling around until she pulled out a slender velvet box. She was very careful, however, as she opened the box, as if it were an ancient relic to be protected at all costs. Jack let out a low whistle, quite surprised by what he saw. The narrow fountain pen glimmered in the afternoon light between a shade of hunter green and onyx black. The pocket clip was gold. It was one of the same brands Rose owned. Jack was impressed the winning prize for a six year old was so fancy.

"Well, then," Jack wrapped his arms around her wiry shoulders. "Guess it's time to work on that longhand, huh?"

Together, they set off back towards the house. Valentina had a skip in her step, nearly towing Jack behind her as they held hands. "It came down to me and Elliott Butchers. You know, the kid with the lisp." Valentina's mountain of tight curls bobbed on her head. "The final word was mountain. He spelled it with an E instead of an A. That's when I knew I won!"

"I just know your mother is going to be so impressed with you," Jack grinned, his afternoon activity lifting from his shoulders. He wanted so desperately to protect his children from all the ugliness in the world. He couldn't, though, so he opted to just squeezing Valentina's hand tighter. The afternoon was beginning to cool down as they continued in the direction of their house. "I bet your mom will make you a special dinner tonight."

"I hope it's something with chicken," Valentina gave him a toothy smile, holding the velvet box to her chest like it were a badge of honor. When their street came into view, Valentina raced ahead, her backpack thumping against her. She couldn't contain her excitement a moment more as she threw gate open. Jack hurried behind her, eager to see Rose's reaction. To his surprise, when they opened the front door, the house was fragrant with food. Rose didn't usually cook so early in the afternoon. "Momma!" Valentina called, kicking her shoes off and throwing her backpack down. Her little stockinged feet thudded to the hardwood floors as she made a direct beeline into the kitchen. When Jack appeared, he saw a casserole dish sitting on top of the stove. King Ranch Chicken. He should have known better. Rose's anxiety as a wife and mother always manifested itself into a casserole. Her back was to them at the counter where she was mashing potatoes up, but when she heard Valentina, she turned into the commotion. "Momma, I won the spelling bee! Look at my pen! I'm just like you now!"

Valentina shoved the box into Rose's hand, who was grinning now. She came to kneel in front of Valentina and together, they adored the fountain pen. "I knew you could do it!" Rose kissed her on the forehead, wrapping her arm around her waist. "And look at this pen! Soon enough, you'll be writing all the family's letters to friends! A fountain pen is a big sign of maturity, Tina."

"Really?" Her face lit up. "And you made chicken casserole for dinner. This is the best day ever! Can I use some paper on your desk?"

"Of course, help yourself to as much as you want," Rose nodded.

"Thanks, Momma!" The eager little girl was gone in the next moment. Jack stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest, as he watched Rose come to her feet and run her hands along her apron. They shared a quiet eye contact. Rose sighed, grabbing the potato masher, hovering above the bowl.

"The world feels so different today," Rose said, lowering her eyes. "I'm glad it's not different for the children, though."

Jack came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his chin to her shoulder. "We still don't know what's going to happen, Rose."

Rose shook her head, jamming the masher into the potatoes. "Always so optimistic..."

"Well, there's some good news," Jack withdrew his registration card, bringing it into Rose's view. "I'm class two. That buys me some time."

Rose furrowed her brow and gingerly took it into her hands, turning towards Jack. "What does that mean?"

"It means I've got a family dependent on me," Jack told her. "So I'm temporarily deferred but... still eligible for military service. But not liable."

She had tears in her eyes as she let out an uneven breath of relief. "That's good... we can all be together for a bit longer."

"Maybe we can still take the kids to Santa Monica," Jack grinned, putting his hands in his pockets. "We could seriously use the vacation." Rose rushed forward into his arms, taking in his familiar scent, as if a pine tree was bristling beneath his shirt. She gripped his suspenders tightly. Jack held her familiar body, pressing his palms flat to her back. "It's not the first time we've been reminded of the fragility of life, Rose. You're stronger than you think you are. Whatever happens, we always roll with the punches. But we can't let this war hold us in a vice grip. We do not belong to it. We need to live our lives on our own terms. Together."

Rose nodded, running her cheek against his chest before she tilted her head up to look at him with her glossy eyes. She let out a quiet sniffle. "You're right. We have to make it count. Together."