Three eternal months had somehow passed since that fateful, tragic night when Rose Dawson's life would forever be changed. She could see him every night in her dreams. One particular night she awoke suddenly from that never ending nightmare. Her husband Jack, frozen to her in the North Atlantic, sinking into the depths as she pried her hands loose from him. She always felt as if a part of her died with him, but she knew that she had to keep her promise to him and go on to fulfill their dreams.

Rising out of bed, she pulled on a flannel robe and held it close to fight the chill in the room. She walked into the kitchen where she proceeded to fix a glass of warm milk in order to help her fall back asleep. Being raised a part of Philadelphia's High Society, she was waited on hand and foot her entire life. Rose had to take a crash course in learning how to do things on her own upon returning to America. She'd learned quite a bit in these last three months. She certainly wasn't stupid by any means. She just happened to be born into high society. Now, she was thankful each day that Jack Dawson had saved her from continuing to live that sort of life, on the R.M.S. Titanic. Crawling back into bed, she said a short prayer and closed her eyes to sleep.

The next morning when she awoke, Rose was nauseous. She had no idea what was the matter. She waited a couple hours until she could walk steadily, and walked to the nearest doctor from her apartment in New York City. After a semi-thorough examination, the doctor stated, matter-of-factly, "You're pregnant, ma'am." How could this be? I haven't slept with anyone except Jack, and that was three months ago in the back seat of the Renault in the cargo hold in our "Ship of Dreams". So this is was his child! The more she thought about it, the more it started to make sense. She hoped she would be able to keep her job as a nanny. She had, in fact, learned some things that would help her raise her own child.

The very thought of being able to keep her job quickly reminded her that she was a half-hour late for work at Elizabeth Vimont's home. Whether she felt like it or not, Rose had to hurry there, if it meant running as hard as she could. She rang the doorbell at the socialite's house to announce her presence. Rose could not afford to miss a day of work, as bad as she was feeling right now. "Please, Lord, help Mrs. Vimont understand what You're doing with me," she prayed aloud. When the door opened, Elizabeth had a worried look on her face. Rose was grateful that she was kind and sincere like her friend Molly Brown, not snobbish like her mother and her circle of friends. Mrs. Vimont, like Rose was recently a widow, so they had that much in common. "I'm truly sorry for being late, Mrs. Vimont. The doctor said I have morning sickness which is what I awoke with. I'm pregnant, ma'am. I do hope this won't affect my job at all." Sensing the fear and uncertainty in her eyes, Elizabeth hugged Rose with all she had. "Certainly not, my dear. How else will you learn how to raise your own child?" Elizabeth's sincere smile wiped away any doubts Rose still had.

Towards the end of Rose's shift, Elizabeth asked at the informal dinner she prepared specially for Rose, "What was he like?" She saw him straddled atop her in the back seat of the Renault with all his love for her shining in his eyes. "Jack Dawson was magical! He saved me from the living hell of Philadelphia Society that I was born into. And I slapped him in the face for it! Just in the nick of time did I realize that he was the only real thing left in my world as it was literally falling apart around me. He was so free-spirited, a devil-may-care, but he had the warmest heart I'd ever felt."

Rose was granted the next two days off. She felt guilty about leaving Mrs. Vimont to care for her toddler alone, but was grateful for the much-needed rest that Elizabeth insisted on. Relieved that her employer was so kind-hearted, she crawled into bed and was fast asleep within minutes.

She and Jack were in Wyoming on their honeymoon, visiting the new Yellowstone Park. New to them anyway. They rented horses in Jackson, where he would teach her "to ride like a man." The general store proprietor reluctantly agreed to exchange a sketch of a group of townspeople by Jack for a man's shirt and pants for his wife. Jack followed Rose into the back storeroom, which was a makeshift dressing room. She sultrily peeled off her dress, discarding it to the floor as if she was throwing away any remembrances of her past with Caledon Hockley and the rest of Philadelphia and its high class snobbery.

As she stood naked in front of Jack, they broke into a frenzy of laughter, remembering the first time she stood naked for him. Now, this was drawing a crowd outside the storeroom door. He was adjusting the pants for her to fit her bulging belly. She was certainly independent by all means, but she was turned on every time Jack insisted on dressing her. Kissing her passionately as they walked out of the storeroom, Jack led Rose outside the store through the crowd that was staring at them, but they were too in love to notice.

When their horses were accounted for, Jack stood next to Rose to help her mount her horse, in case she had any problems. Then he mounted his own horse and they rose off into the distance. The spacious view was breathtaking! Jack dismounted his horse and so did Rose. She stood next to he horse and leaned back, stretching her fatigued back. "Do that again, and hold that pose," Jack said as he pulled out his canvas and materials and sat on a nearby rock. "Put your hand up to your forehead and start to run your fingers through your hair. Perfect." He sketched her with as much love, as the first time in her private suite on the R.M.S. Titanic, except this time he was far from nervous as he had been that night. She knew better than to try to carry on a conversation with him while he drew, as it always broke his concentration.

When he was done, he closed his canvas, and Rose strolled to the rock where he sat and joined him. "Does this pregnancy foil any of the dreams we made?" He pulled her onto his lap and whispered into her thick burgundy hair, "Never. This is just as magical as anything we've ever dreamed. Don't you ever forget that! I just never thought it would be with you." The sky had turned a soft pink in the sunset. "We'd better set up camp here" Jack stated, and Rose got up as he unpacked the bed rolls and blankets on the saddles.

He unrolled the bedrolls and spread them side-by-side on the grass. He laid down and gazed at the starry sky, where Rose joined him. "Where to, miss?" "To the stars," Rose answered, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Mmm," Jack murmured, remembering that exact conversation in the Renault. With that, Rose rolled over and straddled atop him, kissing him hard. He held her close until she had to push herself up off of him to catch her breath. He teased her lips with his as he held her free breasts, whose nipples were hardening with the passion between them. He, then, unbuttoned her shirt and pants, and slipped them off of her. She undressed him with experienced fingers. With the two blankets over them to fight off any cold against their naked bodies, Jack made love to her with more passion than she had ever seen in him, even their first time. Now they were free from her mother, and Caledon Hockley, that bastard who called himself her fiance, and his manservant Spicer Lovejoy, forever. She could now love her Jack Dawson with all the passion in the world until the end, and no one would ever come between them.

She also had Jack's assurance that he loved his child that was growing inside of her.