“Did you have fun in the kitchen with Maddie?” Rose brushed Milly’s hair with her fingers, and Silas realized as Rose seemed to examine the little girl intently, she was making sure Milly wasn’t injured.
Rose kissed the top of Milly’s head. “Not even a bump.”
Milly wiggled in Rose’s arms. “I sit big chair.”
The smile Rose gave his daughter reminded Silas of why he’d thought Rose would make a good mother. There was a compassion within her that seemed to understand instinctively what a child needed. Deeper than that, though, was that her heart seemed to flow with a never-ending love for children.
Rose relaxed her hold on Milly and allowed the little girl to scoot over to the unoccupied portion of the sofa. Milly preened as she adjusted herself to a comfortable position, her little legs not even reaching the edge of the seat. Milly smiled, a wide grin flashing a mouth full of baby teeth.
“I big girl,” Milly declared, her gaze sweeping the room.
She’d never been allowed to sit on the sofa in the parlor at the Garretts’ home. They’d told Milly little girls weren’t allowed in the room, and she spent most of her time confined to the nursery.
“You sure are,” Rose said, giving Milly an affectionate pat. She turned her gaze to Silas, finally looking at him. “I don’t think she was injured in her fall.”
It hadn’t occurred to Silas that Milly would have been hurt, but he smiled at Rose all the same. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness toward my daughter.”
“Of course. She’s a sweet girl.” Rose’s expression softened further, and as Silas studied her face, he realized once again what a difficult position he’d put her in.
Back when they were courting, they used to talk about the family they’d have together. Silas had always said he wanted a daughter with dark hair, like Rose, but Rose had always insisted that she wanted a son who resembled him.
Why had he spoken such foolishness? Oh, he’d meant the words when he spoke them. Had fervently wanted them to come true. But he’d known what his father wanted, what his family needed. He’d hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t come to the eventuality of his marriage to Annie, but it was all for naught.
He never shared any of this with Rose, never gave her the option of protecting her heart. All this time, he’d justified his actions by saying he’d only been lying to himself. But as he watched her interact with the little girl he once told her they’d have together, his heart ached. He knew that he’d lied to her, as well.
* * *
Rose was grateful when Matthew’s cries gave her an excuse to leave the room. Ordinarily, his fussiness would have frustrated her. Little Catherine had started sleeping through the night ages ago, but Matthew staunchly refused to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time. She yawned as she picked him up out of his cradle. Usually, she just kept him with her because it hardly seemed worth the effort to continue going up and down. But today, with her emotions racing all over the place, taking care of her son gave her the respite she needed.
“There, now, sweet fellow. Mama’s here.” She picked him up and cradled him against her. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said that having Matthew made up for all that she’d gone through, all the wrongs that had happened in her life.
Even now, when the brief pause in her routine gave her body room to remind her how exhausted she was, Rose still wouldn’t change any of it.
Would her life be different had Silas gone through with his plan to marry her?
Undoubtedly.
But as Matthew smiled up at her, Rose couldn’t imagine wanting that life anymore.
Matthew settled in her arms, and she thought about the little girl she’d held only a short time before. Milly. Silas clearly loved her the way she loved Matthew. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t make herself continue to hate him.
Forgiveness.
No, she didn’t feel it in her heart. In fact, she still wanted to rail at him and tell him of all the hurt she’d experienced as a result of her broken heart. But that wasn’t the way of forgiveness. It wasn’t the way of Jesus.
Although it didn’t say so explicitly, Rose knew that the part where the Bible talked about leaving everything behind for the sake of following Him also meant letting go of her old grudges. Including the one she had against Silas.
Easier said than done.
But with the Lord’s help, she’d keep trying, not for his sake, because he didn’t deserve her mercy, but because of the mercy that had been given to her.
“Rose?” Maddie appeared in the doorway. “Frank was hoping you’d rejoin them in the parlor. I believe they want you to be a part of the discussion.”
Rose nodded slowly, adjusting the baby in her arms. It seemed that God wanted her to keep facing this, to keep dealing with the pain and the hurt until it went away. So be it.
“Do you want me to take Matthew for you? We could go outside in the sun for a while. It might improve his disposition.”
The concerned look on the older woman’s face wasn’t meant as a criticism, but an honest offer of help. Everyone in the Lassiter house had taken turns up with Matthew all night in hopes that someone could get him to sleep. His fussing would be a distraction in the room with the others, but Rose couldn’t bear to give him up. Not when he served as a reminder that every wound, every moment she suffered, and yes, every mistake, was worth it.
“I’ll be fine.” She adjusted the baby in her arms as she handed him his favorite rattle. It would keep him occupied for a short time at least.
Maddie pursed her lips disapprovingly, and she was probably right to do so. But Matthew wasn’t fussing now, and Rose needed the comfort of the baby in her arms.
She carried him to the parlor, where everyone seemed to be in cheerful conversation. Uncle Frank had found a doll for Milly to play with, and the little girl seemed content sitting on the sofa snuggling the toy.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Rose said, taking the seat she’d vacated next to Milly. She expected her heart to twist at the sight of the little girl, but when she’d held Milly in her arms, all she could think was that Milly was like any other child, in need of a few cuddles and some love. As much as Rose still found it difficult to even look at Silas, her resentment didn’t seem to carry over to his child.
“Who dat?” Milly asked, poking the baby.
“This is Matthew, my son.”
“Ma-few,” Milly said, tugging on his leg. “We pway.”
Rose smiled. “He’s too little to play. But if you wave the doll in front of him, he might smile for you.”
Milly dangled the doll in front of Matthew, making funny noises. Matthew giggled.
“He yikes me!” Milly beamed.
“He does,” Uncle Frank said, a tender tone to his voice. While Joseph’s daughter was a happy baby and seemed to giggle and smile at everything, Matthew was of a more choleric nature. Everything made him cry, and a smile was hard-won. To make her notoriously cranky son giggle required a combination of timing, patience and skill.
Even Joseph nodded approvingly. “I think this will work nicely.”
“What will work nicely?” Rose stared at her brother.
“If Silas comes to work for me, he’ll need someone to take care of Milly.”
“No,” Rose said flatly.
“I’d ask Annabelle, but she was hoping to visit her aunt Celeste and show off the baby. Since her last trip was cut short...”
Because of her. That’s what Joseph was implying. They’d been on an extended honeymoon trip, but when news of Rose’s indiscretion reached them, they’d returned home. Annabelle had said that it was because she was feeling poorly due to the baby she was expecting, but Rose knew better. They’d come back to deal with her.
If Rose continued in her insistence to not take care of Milly, they�
�d postpone this trip, as well. Because of her. Again.
Joseph and Uncle Frank exchanged a look. Probably in frustration over their belief that Rose was being difficult. That’s what everyone thought after all. Rose was the difficult one, always wanting her own way when it went against what the family thought best.
“Perhaps Mary...” Frank suggested.
Rose’s eyes burned. Though she and her sister were getting along much better these days, it always hurt to know that Mary was still viewed as the dependable one, and Rose the difficult one. How she tried to be as perfect as her older sister. But oh, how she failed.
Joseph shook his head. “I can’t ask that of her. She’s so close to having her own baby, and she’s already agreed to take care of our other siblings while we’re gone. It seems too much to add in one more child to the mix.”
“I thought you were bringing them?” Frank said.
Joseph sighed. “We were going to, but they would miss too much school, and while Daniel doesn’t mind, Evelyn and Bess were furious. Nugget wasn’t pleased with the prospect, either.”
With both of their parents dead, Joseph had taken on the primary responsibility for caring for their younger siblings: Evelyn, fourteen, Helen, thirteen, Daniel, ten, Bess, seven and Nugget, five. As the next eldest, their sister Mary often helped, as well. Rose did what she could, but since her scandal, it seemed like no one ever asked her anymore.
Sometimes she felt guilty for not doing more, but every time she offered to take one of her siblings or do something for them, they rebuffed her efforts.
And here they were, faced with a problem, asking for Rose’s help, but Rose was being difficult. They didn’t need to say it. Rose could tell by their expressions.
“I’ll do it,” Rose murmured.
Uncle Frank frowned. “It’s all right. I’m sure we can find someone else. We haven’t even asked—”
“I said I’ll do it,” she said, a little too forcefully, perhaps, since everyone stared at her.
“I don’t want to put you out,” Silas said, looking at her so forlornly that she felt guilty for not receiving him more warmly.
The truth was, Rose was being difficult. Years ago, when they’d all sighed at how difficult she was being, she’d felt misunderstood and angry that no one saw her side of things. Now she could recognize that she was exactly what they thought her to be. The difference was, they still didn’t see the heartache she was trying to heal from.
Matthew giggled again. Milly laughed with him.
Would it be so bad to have another child around? One who made her son smile when so few could?
Even Rose could admit that the only reason she said no was her anger toward Silas. Why should she help him when he’d hurt her?
But that wasn’t the way of forgiveness. She’d said the words and made the commitment to forgiving him. Which meant she couldn’t act out of the anger, no matter how deeply she felt it.
Why did this have to be so hard? Why couldn’t she have just said the words and Silas have been on his way, never to cross her path again?
Because something deep inside her told her that forgiveness didn’t work that way.
Rose looked at Silas, giving him the best smile she could muster. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. Matthew seems to be entertained by Milly, so I’m sure they will enjoy each other’s company.”
“And that’s something,” Joseph said, grinning. “I don’t think he’s gone this long without fussing since he was born.”
Rose sighed. She’d like to have argued with him, but he had a point. The ladies at church said he was the most contrary baby they’d ever met, and the most unkind ones said it was no wonder, given the circumstances of his birth.
With a thwap, the doll Milly had been waving in front of Matthew hit him on top of the head. Matthew began to wail.
Milly began to cry, as well. “Was assident.”
“It’s all right,” Rose said, patting the little girl with her free hand as she tried to soothe her son with the other. “I know it was. He’ll be fine.”
Then she stood, bouncing him and patting him in the way that sometimes got him to calm down. Red-faced and fists pounding, Matthew seemed completely uninterested in being comforted.
“I’m sorry,” Rose looked apologetically at Silas. “It truly wasn’t her fault. Matthew is just overly sensitive.”
She looked over at Milly, who clutched the doll to her chest. Her light eyes were full of unshed tears.
“It’s all right, Milly,” Rose said again. “Matthew’s tired, that’s all.”
The accompanying sighs from Joseph and Uncle Frank both said what she was feeling. Matthew was always tired. Just as they all were.
“He never sleeps,” Rose told Silas by way of explanation. “Just an hour or so here and there. Everyone says he’ll grow out of it, but for now, we’re all doing the best we can.”
“Can I try?” Silas held out his arms. “Everyone used to have difficulty getting Milly to sleep, but I always could.”
She should say no. At least that’s what the stubborn side of her said. But her arms were so heavy. So tired. And her practical side needed a break.
Rose handed the baby to Silas.
Matthew continued to wail.
Silas held him to his chest, tucking him tight against him. “Do you have another blanket for him?”
She grabbed one of the blankets from the side of the sofa. Silas wrapped it around the baby, pinning his arms to the side.
“He doesn’t like to be swaddled.” Rose gave a sigh. The first thing everyone tried with Matthew was swaddling him, and it only made him angrier.
True to form, his already-red face grew brighter, and his wails louder.
Silas loosened the blanket and began rocking him gently, whispering things that Rose couldn’t hear, that Matthew probably ignored. His cries were too loud for him to hear anything. At least that’s what Rose figured. But as Silas pressed Matthew against his chest, continuing to murmur whatever he’d been murmuring, Matthew began to quiet.
Then Silas sat, unwrapped the baby and played with his legs, rubbing his stomach. “His stomach hurts,” Silas said.
Rose sighed. “I know. Everyone says it’s gas, and he’ll grow out of it. But peppermint water does nothing for him.”
Silas nodded. “I know, little fellow. It’s rough, isn’t it?” Looking up at Rose, he said, “Rub his stomach like this. It’ll help.”
“How do you know?”
“Experience.”
Matthew stopped crying. His big eyes stared up at Silas, watching him.
“And the Garretts don’t think you can take care of your daughter?” Rose watched him, transfixed. No one had ever been able to get Matthew to calm down. Even the doctor, who’d tried every remedy he knew, hadn’t been able to make Matthew’s tummy troubles go away.
“Men don’t know anything about how to take care of babies.” He used a baby voice as he smiled down at Matthew. “But we know that’s not true, now, don’t we?”
Silas returned his gaze to Rose. “This is going to sound crazy, but stop drinking milk, and eating anything made with milk. I’m fairly sure that’s what’s making Matthew’s stomach so upset.”
“Milk?” Uncle Frank sounded surprised. “But that’s what babies need to be healthy. We’ve been making sure all of our mothers get extra to pass on to the babies.”
Rose couldn’t help but sigh. She wasn’t fond of milk, but at every meal, someone was pressing an extra glass of milk into her hand, telling her it was good for the baby.
“It’s good for most babies, but some babies can’t tolerate it. Milly was fussy as a baby, and I remembered my mother talking about how when I was a baby, someone told her to stop drinking milk, and it would make me less fussy. It worked for me, so I asked Annie
to give it a try. Milly stopped being so fussy.”
Then he let out a long sigh. “One more battle with the Garretts, I’m afraid. I don’t give Milly milk, even now. The Garretts make her drink a big glass every day. She’s done a lot better now that she’s away from them.”
Rose looked down at Matthew, who’d fallen asleep in Silas’s lap. He seemed content, and Silas still rubbed his stomach. Rose memorized the motion. If nothing else, she could try it on him herself.
“I don’t know if you remember,” Silas continued, “but I don’t drink milk. I never acquired the taste for it. That’s why my mother always kept goats. We’d drink their milk, eat their butter and cheese, and it never bothered me the way cow’s milk did. People always thought we didn’t have cows because we couldn’t afford them, but the truth was, goat milk always suited us better.”
Actually, she did remember. Aunt Ina had invited Silas over to supper one night, and she’d poured everyone the half a glass of milk she allotted them once a week, and Silas had surreptitiously given it to Rose. At the time, Rose had thought he was being generous in letting Rose have the extra, but now she understood.
“When you gave me your milk, it was so you didn’t have to drink it.”
Silas shrugged. “Partially. But Ina was so stingy with her portions of everything. I knew how hungry you were. I’d seen you slip a piece of meat to your brother, Daniel, and your roll to your sister, Bess. It didn’t seem fair that you always went without.”
“Well, we have plenty now.” Rose gave half a smile. “But I thank you for noticing when no one else seemed to care.”
That’s what she’d loved about Silas. He’d cared for her once. When they’d meet for their secret picnics, he’d always brought a basket of food, inviting Rose to eat all she wanted. When the girls at church had taunted her about her worn ribbons, Silas would have a new one for her. He’d brought them eggs, telling Aunt Ina that one of his mother’s customers didn’t need any this week, and he didn’t want them to go to waste.
If it weren’t for Silas’s generosity, and that of a few others, Rose was certain they’d have all wasted away from her aunt’s stinginess.
For the Sake of the Children Page 3
