Rose woke to stillness unlike any she’d ever known. Rolling over in her bed, she reached for Matthew in his cradle. Her hands found only empty space.
Where was her son?
Her heart thudded in her chest as she sat up. She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. There had to be a reasonable explanation.
Jumping out of bed, Rose realized she was still wearing her clothes from the previous day. She’d been lying on top of her blankets with one of the spare quilts thrown over her. The dim echo of laughter from downstairs sounded against the stillness of her room.
Clearly she’d been more tired than she’d thought.
Had Matthew been fussing and someone... Rose shook her head. She’d have heard him. They’d have woken her.
Nearly tripping over her skirts as she raced down the stairs, questions ran through Rose’s mind. Babies didn’t just disappear out of their beds.
Except Rose couldn’t remember putting him in his bed.
How could she have forgotten to put her son to bed?
And where would she have put him instead?
When she entered the kitchen, time seemed to have stopped, and it was like being in an entirely different place.
Silas sat at the table, bouncing a content Matthew on his lap and spooning something from a bowl into the baby’s mouth. Milly sat next to him, contentedly eating her breakfast.
Liquid dribbled out of Matthew’s mouth, which Silas very efficiently wiped away.
“What are you doing with my baby?” Rose rushed toward him, holding her arms out.
Silas smiled as he gave the baby more of the liquid. “Filling his belly. He was hungry. But he likes his porridge.”
“I’ll say,” Maddie said, closing the back door behind her as she entered the kitchen. “I’ve never seen a little one take to food so quickly. I told you we should have been letting him try it.”
Ignoring the older woman’s chastisement, Rose grabbed her baby out of Silas’s hands. She held him tight against her, pressing kisses against the top of his head.
Then she glared at Silas. “When he wasn’t in his bed this morning, I had all kinds of horrible thoughts. You can’t just take him. What were you thinking, taking him and not telling me?”
He had the nerve to shrug. “He was with me all night. You were so tired we thought it best to give you a chance to rest.”
Silas stood up and reached out to wipe a stray bit of liquid from Matthew’s face. “And we did just fine, didn’t we?”
Oblivious to the turmoil in his mother’s heart, Matthew giggled.
“But...” Rose blinked. While Matthew had been sleeping through the night, he still woke for an early-morning feeding. Though everyone else seemed oblivious to it, the tightness in her chest reminded her of the pressing need to feed the baby.
“He needs to eat,” Rose said, turning toward the door.
“Oh, he’s eaten plenty,” Silas said, chuckling. “Maddie’s right. This little guy has taken to eating porridge like a horse to fresh pasture.”
“Ma-few eat like piggy!” Milly giggled as she banged on the table. “Me piggy too! More powidge, pwease!”
“I’ll just go take care of him.” She left the kitchen, carrying the baby up to the privacy of her room for feeding.
Despite everyone’s words about how well Matthew had liked his porridge, he had no problem taking another meal. It wasn’t until he’d been firmly snuggled against her for a few minutes that Rose finally felt like she could relax.
Though she knew everyone was just trying to help, Rose couldn’t shake the ache in her heart. Did they all think she wasn’t good enough to be Matthew’s mother? That she couldn’t take care of her own child?
Tears streamed down her face as she looked at the baby contentedly having his second breakfast.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Rose?” Silas called.
“I’m feeding the baby.”
“I know. I’ll stay here. I just wanted to be sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine.” Rose took a deep breath. She knew she sounded peevish, but with the tears still falling, she didn’t need Silas thinking she was anything other than fine.
“I honestly thought I was trying to help. You seemed like you needed your rest.”
His words sounded sincere, but it still felt like an insult that he didn’t think she could manage on her own.
“Please, Rose, don’t be upset. I can hear you sniffling in there.”
Of course he could. Not only were the walls paper-thin, but Silas had always been able to sniff out her tears.
“I can take care of my own son.”
“I know,” Silas said softly. “And I don’t know of anyone who is a more natural mother. But it’s all right to have some help sometimes. I should have asked before interfering. I honestly thought I was doing you a favor. I’m sorry.”
His immediate apology was a balm on her heart. People apologized to her all the time, but it always seemed like they were mostly afraid that if they didn’t, it would only make her angrier. Like they were walking on eggshells. Silas seemed to be genuinely sorry he’d hurt her.
The trouble with forgiving Silas was that there was a part of her that still wondered, as safe as he seemed to her, could she truly trust him? She’d never expected him to break her heart the first time. Was it wrong of her to so easily hand it over now?
No, it wasn’t her heart. Her friendship. She could rely on him as a friend, yes?
Friends did each other favors, right?
Rose wiped at her tears with her free hand. Matthew looked up at her and gave her a sleepy smile.
“I suppose there was no harm done.”
The baby blinked, his dark eyes showing signs of lightening around the edges of his irises. People said that they thought his eyes were going to end up blue like Rose’s, but until now, she hadn’t been able to tell.
Everyone seemed to be a better expert on her son than she was. Like about giving him some of the food they ate. Her family had been saying she should let him try. But something in Rose had resisted.
Maybe she was being silly, but she’d thought it would be her to give Matthew his first taste of real food.
“Then why do you still sound so sad?”
Rose sighed. “I’m sorry. I suppose I don’t like people making decisions about my son without talking to me.”
“You mean like all the times you do things with Milly without asking me?”
She’d deserved that since she often took charge of Milly, and there had been that time when she’d purchased clothes for her that had upset him.
An apology was in order here, but she couldn’t bring herself to say those words again so soon after she’d just done so.
“I...” She stumbled over the words on her tongue.
“I know,” he said quietly. “We both overstep from time to time. But we’re both doing the best we can, so let’s give each other some grace, all right?”
Some of the weight fell off her shoulders, and she looked down at her baby, who’d fallen asleep with a smile on his face, milk dribbling at the corners of his mouth.
“I just don’t want anyone to think I can’t do it on my own.” She hadn’t expected the admission to come out of her mouth, but having spoken it aloud somehow made her feel like she might have the strength to do it.
“You can’t.” His voice sounded as clear as if he’d been sitting in her room. “None of us can, which is why we all have each other. I thought that was the point everyone here keeps trying to make. So why are you so stubborn about understanding it for yourself?”
Because her circumstances were different. God might have forgiven her, but society never let her forget. And with each mistake, they shone the light of judgment on her. They’d said she deserved a baby who fussed all the time, who didn’t sleep, and she knew that as Matthew grew, they’d be watching, looking for signs of his misbehavior to blame on her sin.
Rose closed her eyes to keep more tears from falling. Was she wrong to think that she might someday find a man who would love her as completely as the other men in her life loved their wives? Would there ever be someone who wouldn’t hold her past against her, who wouldn’t want her for her money, or, as in Silas’s case, think her nothing more than the perfect mother for a child?
“Matthew’s asleep. I don’t want the sound of our talking to wake him. The Garretts will be here soon, so I need to put him down so I can get Milly ready.”
She couldn’t see his face on the other side of the door, but she knew it bore an expression of complete exasperation. He expected an answer of her, but she had none to give him. If she shared what was on her heart, she was bound to get the same lecture she’d been hearing from Uncle Frank about her sins being forgiven. Which she already knew and accepted.
It was just the rest of society that couldn’t.
And, like it or not, Rose was a part of society and had to live with the way people treated her. Which meant not letting her guard down, not even for a moment, not even here.
“I’ll take care of it,” Silas finally said. “I’d like to have a few words with them anyway. Frank says you haven’t been to see the baby yet. Why don’t you take advantage of the break to do so?”
Matthew sighed against her. After the momentary worry over his safety, she was loath to put him down. And she certainly wasn’t going to leave him.
“Perhaps this afternoon. I won’t leave Matthew, and—”
“I managed just fine last night.”
“You’ll be busy entertaining the Garretts. I won’t antagonize them by forcing them to deal with Matthew, as well.”
This time, she knew the silence on the other side of the door was because Silas knew she was right.
“They already hate me,” she said. “I don’t want to remind them of one of the reasons why.”
Which is mostly how she tried to live her life these days. Being helpful, but remaining in the shadows, keeping Matthew out of sight of the most disapproving people and making sure not to stir up trouble. Hopefully by the time Matthew got older, people’s memories of the circumstances of his birth would have faded, and he’d be able to live as an ordinary boy.
“You know their anger is more about them than it is about you, right?”
Rose sighed, then looked out the window, giving her a view of the street. One of the carriages from the Rafferty was rounding the corner.
“The Garretts are almost here. You should prepare Milly.”
“Fine.” Silas sounded resigned, but he knew just as well as she that she’d played a role in angering the Garretts. After all, she’d stolen Silas’s heart when she didn’t have the right to.
“But Rose?” His voice was distorted like he’d turned away but come back again. “This conversation isn’t over, and it will never be over until you understand that you’re a part of this family, and just as you’re here for everyone else, we’re here for you, too.”
Though it was nice that Silas considered himself part of the family, there was so much he still didn’t understand. One more reason why, as much as she accepted that she’d been forgiven by God, the distance between her and her family members told her that she still had a great deal more penance to do.
* * *
Fortunately for Silas, Maddie had already anticipated the need to have Milly ready before the Garretts arrived, and he entered the kitchen just as they knocked on the door. Milly was dressed in one of the new outfits Rose had bought. Silas had to admit, his daughter did look rather pretty, and it was a far sight better than anything he could have chosen.
He’d been wrong to throw that in Rose’s face. His words had hurt her, and he hated the wounded tone in her voice. Back when they lived in Ohio, that tone had been reserved for when her aunt had done something horrible or Rose had been fighting with Mary. She’d never directed it at him before.
But what was he supposed to do?
Things were different between them, and as much as he’d like for them to be back to how they used to be, or at least for their relationship to be as easy as it was, they couldn’t go back. The part of him that wished they could do so warred with the other part that said their relationship held a lot more depth than it previously had.
Despite the newfound depth, he couldn’t talk to her as easily as he once had. She’d put up a wall between them, and in those moments when he thought that he’d like to get past it, to be a balm to her heart, she seemed to double the bricks she placed in it. Years ago, he could have apologized, and she would have laughed, and they would have kissed, and...
The kissing was out, of course, but why did everything else have to be so hard?
He’d hurt her.
A thousand times that phrase rolled over in his mind, and no matter how many times she’d said she’d moved past it, the wall remained, reminding him.
And then today, when he’d hurt her again.
Silas pasted a smile on his face as Frank ushered the Garretts in, directing them to the parlor. Milly clung to Silas’s pants leg.
“I want to pway wif da kids.” Her usual exuberant voice echoed with the kind of resignation someone so young shouldn’t have learned yet.
“This afternoon. I’m sure Rose has something fun planned.” He patted her head lightly, not wanting to mess up the careful hairstyle Helen had painstakingly done at breakfast before going to school.
Rose might have been worried about sleeping in today, but it had seemed like everyone had been happy to pitch in. The family at the Lassiter house worked in concert, each person having a role, yet able to fill in as needed. In some ways, it was exactly what he’d always imagined a family would look like.
Milly stuck out her lip in a pout, but she followed him into the parlor.
“Say hello to your grandparents, Milly.”
“Hello.” Her voice sounded hollow, wooden.
“You may kiss my cheek, Millicent.” Mrs. Garrett gave them a regal look, and there was no warmth in her voice.
Silas tried telling himself that the older woman was guarding her heart, afraid he’d take Milly from her, but she’d never been warm.
Milly trudged to her grandmother, planted a kiss on her cheek, then turned and did the same to her grandfather. Mr. Garrett placed his arm around her, almost in a hug, and if it wasn’t for the way his face softened at Milly’s touch, Silas might have been tempted to rethink his desire to let the Garretts have a chance at spending time with Milly.
Then Milly turned and looked at Silas hopefully. “I go pway wif da kids now?”
“Not now,” he said with a smile. Then he turned his attention to the Garretts. “What activity do you have planned for Milly today?”
Mrs. Garrett frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“What do you intend to do with Milly this morning when you spend time with her?”
The Garretts looked as though he’d started speaking a foreign language, and not one they hoped Milly would learn.
“How did you intend to pass the time with Milly?”
They gave him a blank look.
“What did you do with Milly yesterday when you came to visit?”
Mrs. Garrett looked over at her husband. “We read a book to Millicent. Then we had tea, and I found her manners deplorable. She spilled her tea and had to be taken upstairs to be changed, which is when we left.”
Deplorable manners. For a two-year-old. Silas couldn’t even imagine what they viewed as such.
He knelt in front of his daughter. “Did you have bad manners yesterday?”
Milly shrugged. “I no hold cup wight.”
Of course she didn’t hold the cup right. She was two. Something that the Garretts had never seemed to understand about his daughter. He used to wonder if they’d gotten Annie as a full-grown human being because they always seemed horrified at what he’d come to realize was normal child behavior.
“I cannot fathom why Rose isn’t teaching her proper deportment. Although I seem to recall that none of the Stone children had anything resembling proper manners. Their mother let them run wild, and then when she passed away, their behavior became even more so.”
Mrs. Garrett gave a dignified snort. “This is why children need to have the right sort of influence in their lives. The Stones might have money now, but money cannot buy good breeding.”
Silas could feel Milly tensing beside him. She’d grabbed his trouser leg again, hiding behind him. She might not have understood her grandmother’s words, but she understood the intent.
“If you’re to build a relationship with my daughter, then you’re going to have to stop speaking of our benefactors in such a negative way.” He reached down and patted Milly’s head. “Milly is learning how to behave, and her manners improve every day. I couldn’t be prouder.”
Mrs. Garrett sniffed. Displeasure marred her features, the lines in her face deepening.
“Of course she is,” Mr. Garrett said quickly. “We meant no offense. It’s just that her um...er...her exuberance is, well, we simply aren’t used to such an energetic child.”
Fear shone in the older man’s eyes. While Mrs. Garrett seemed intent on pressing her point, Mr. Garrett seemed willing to do whatever it took to keep Milly in their lives. The older man’s tenderness gave Silas hope that they could somehow find a way to make this relationship work.
“All Milly really needs is to be loved,” Silas said, reaching down and rubbing his daughter’s back. His heart warmed as she looked up at him and smiled.
“But her manners!” Mrs. Garrett’s face didn’t soften.
“They’ll come in time,” Frank said, entering the room. “I’m sure it’s difficult because your Annie must have been a remarkable woman and just as remarkable of a child. But we have to remember that all children mature at their own pace. Milly is still learning the joys of having other children to play with. She behaves well enough, and I can assure you that as she gets older, no one will look askance at her for her deportment.”
Mr. Garrett patted his wife’s hand as she murmured something under her breath.
“And I’m glad to find the two of you still here. I was so caught up in the excitement that I failed to invite you to join us at church tomorrow. We’d be pleased to have you as our guests.”
It always amazed Silas how easily Frank managed to defuse difficult situations. Because for the first time since arriving, Mrs. Garrett smiled.
“That is very kind of you, Pastor. We would be delighted. It has been such a burden not to be at home with our church family.”
He smiled at her like he hadn’t noticed the guilt she’d poured on with her comment about their burden. “If there is anything we can do to make you more comfortable, please let me know. Many of our parishioners are missing home just like you, and we do our best to make them feel welcome.”
For a moment, Silas felt bad for judging Mrs. Garrett so harshly. Truth be told, he’d been so interested in protecting Milly that he hadn’t considered the other woman’s comfort and how he could make things easier on her.
“I do appreciate your kindness, Pastor.” Mrs. Garrett straightened, looking a bit more mollified.
“Well, then.” Frank nodded at the Garretts. “I’ll see you Sunday, if not sooner. I want to review my sermon notes, so if you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Garrett said, looking almost pleasant.
Silas took a deep breath, then smiled at Mrs. Garrett. “It occurred to me that you play the piano very well. Milly loves music more than anything, so perhaps you could sing some songs together, or show her some of the notes.”
He wasn’t sure how well the latter would work, but at least he was trying to find an angle that reached Mrs. Garrett in a way that highlighted her interests.
“Well, I...” Instead of looking pleased, Mrs. Garrett looked flustered. “I haven’t played since...”
Mr. Garrett patted her hand. “There, now, dear, it’s all right.”
Silas blew out a breath as he closed his eyes for a moment to collect his thoughts. He hadn’t even considered that possibility.
“I’m sorry,” he said slowly as he turned his gaze back on them. “I didn’t mean to bring you more pain. I didn’t realize you stopped playing after Annie’s death. I just thought it was something we all enjoyed.”
“It’s true,” Mr. Garrett said. “I recall we spent a good many happy times around the piano. It was good of you to remember.”
The heaviness in Silas’s heart grew. He’d spent so much time defending his loveless marriage that he hadn’t given enough mention to Rose of the good times they’d had.
“I wouldn’t want to forget. And I hope it is something Milly will someday remember.”
He knelt beside his daughter. “Do you remember the songs we used to sing with your mother?”
“I wike to sing,” Milly said with a smile. Then she pointed at Mrs. Garrett. “But she say I too loud.”
All this time, Silas hadn’t considered that the sound of Milly running through the house, singing, would remind Mrs. Garrett of what she’d lost. Annie had always been singing. She didn’t have the best voice, and her songs were often slightly off-key, but she’d always sounded so happy.
Silas hugged Milly to him. “I suppose it’s because it reminds her of your mama, and she misses your mama dearly. Your mama used to sing all the time.”
“Miwwy wike to sing all da time. But I no want to be in da twouble.”
“Will you sing us a song?” Mr. Garrett asked, his voice trembling.
Milly needed no further invitation. She belted out “Jesus Loves Me” with the biggest smile on her face. He’d never seen as much joy in his daughter as when she sang, but he realized as she started singing the chorus that Milly truly believed Jesus loved her. So, of course, the song brought her joy.
Tears streamed down Mrs. Garrett’s face, and Silas watched as Mr. Garrett tenderly squeezed his wife’s hand.
In this moment, Silas could almost believe that everything was going to work out perfectly.
Milly stopped suddenly, then ran over to her grandmother. “You no cry. Is happy song. About Jesus. Jesus wuvs you, Granmudder.”
Mrs. Garrett picked Milly up and set her in her lap, holding her close. More tears followed the trail down the older woman’s cheeks. For once Milly didn’t squirm, but let the woman hold her tight as she sobbed.
But just as quickly as the emotion had overcome them all, Nugget burst into the room. “Milly! Will bought us a new ball. Want to come outside and try it out?”
Milly jumped off Mrs. Garrett’s lap. “I go pway wif da kids, now?”
Mr. Garrett nodded, still clutching his wife’s hand. Though today’s visit had been short, it seemed to unlock something in everyone’s hearts that would hopefully lead to progress in their relationship.
“Yes, Milly, you may go play with the kids.”
Silas smiled as his daughter’s face lit up and she ran out of the room.
He turned his attention back to the Garretts. “I’m truly sorry if this brought up any additional grief for you. I can’t imagine the pain of losing your daughter. Annie was a good woman, and a good mother.”
“But will Millicent even remember her?” Mrs. Garrett’s voice still held the tears she’d been shedding.
“I do my best to help her,” Silas said quietly. “We remember her in our prayers at night, and her picture is in Milly’s room.”
“And I often tell her how proud her mama would be of her,” Rose said, entering the room. “I’m sure as she gets older, she’ll treasure the stories you tell her about Annie. I only wish I could have known her well enough to share some myself.”
Silas didn’t question the sincerity in Rose’s voice. He knew from the brief times they’d spoken of Annie, Rose harbored no ill will toward his late wife. In fact, Rose had a deep compassion for her that stretched him in thinking of others with the same level of compassion.
The defenses on Mrs. Garrett’s face came back up, and the scowl returned to her eyes. Rose seemed to sense the change in the older woman, as well.
“I meant no offense,” Rose said quietly. “I merely wanted to give you comfort to know that we’re doing everything we can to help Milly remember her mother. If there’s anything you can think of that we might also do, I’d be happy to incorporate that into our routine.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Mr. Garrett said, standing. “It’s a difficult time, as I’m sure you can understand. We’ll be going now, but perhaps we’ll see you tomorrow at church.”
He held out his hand to his wife, who used it as leverage to rise. As Silas watched Mrs. Garrett’s strained motions, he realized that she no longer moved as quickly or easily as she once had. Had she injured herself? Or was she simply worn out from the grief of losing her daughter?
Mrs. Garrett turned her gaze to him. “Would it be possible for Millicent to have lunch with us at the hotel tomorrow after church?”
Possible, yes. A good idea? Silas sighed. If he said no, it would serve to strain relations between him and the Garretts further. But if he said yes, Milly’s behavior was bound to shock them. Not that it would be bad, of course, but their expectation of how such a young child was supposed to behave was vastly different from what Milly could reasonably handle.
As he hesitated, Rose spoke. “I’m sure it would be a wonderful treat for Milly to dine in the hotel. However, we typically share a meal as a church afterward. You would be most welcome to join us, and you could see Milly interact with her friends. The Jacksons are typically present.”
Silas fought the urge to chuckle at Rose’s blatant use of the Garretts’ snobbery to convince them to dine with the church. Not everyone at church participated in the meal, of course, but Frank’s late wife had begun the tradition as a way of feeding the town’s hungry. Everyone, including those who did not attend the church, was welcome. He supposed the Garretts wouldn’t be impressed by the notion of sitting next to a down-and-out miner, but knowing Rose, she’d find a way to arrange it so they were seated with the Jacksons.
“That’s a very kind offer,” Mr. Garrett said.
“But unnecessary,” his wife interrupted. “While it is good of you to include Millicent in your family activities, she needs to learn she has her own family, and I would like for the three of us to have our own family time.”
The punch to his gut was harder than anything the most strapping lad had given him. But here was this frail woman, making him bleed in the worst way.
How many times would he be required to keep trying to include them, when they’d made it clear the only family unit they would accept was the three of them, without Milly’s father?
Fine. Let them have it their way. It was only one supper. And perhaps, if the Garretts began to feel more comfortable with the situation, they’d be more willing to compromise, as well.
“All right,” Silas said. “Milly can dine with you after church tomorrow.”
Mrs. Garrett’s satisfied smile told him that the war she was planning had only begun. His gut twisted, and Silas prayed he hadn’t made a terrible mistake.