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 th
at 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.
Chapter Nine
Silas didn’t speak as he accompanied Rose to see Mary and the new baby. So far, all of her attempts at conversation had resulted in grunts and stony silence. Rose wasn’t even sure why he’d come if he was going to be so disagreeable.
“Did I say something to offend you?” she finally asked, pulling the shawl around her shoulders a little tighter.
“No.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Rose didn’t press the issue. It had never been so difficult to talk to Silas, but it seemed like the distance between them continued to grow. Especially after this morning’s conversation.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you earlier. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I know you were just trying to help with Matthew. You’re good with him, and I don’t give you enough credit for that.”
Still, he said nothing.
She supposed it was for the best. What would their easy conversation accomplish? A deeper connection? Letting him into her heart again? And then what? Rose could never love Silas the way she once had. She still wasn’t sure she could love him at all.
As a friend, she supposed, but trusting him with her whole heart?
Rose sighed. Distance between them was a good thing, especially since she was in charge of Milly’s care. Nannies didn’t have deep friendships with their employers. Well, Polly had, but she and Mitch falling in love was different from Rose and Silas.
So why was she, once again, trying so hard to get him to open up to her, to feel something deeper than what he felt? Pursuing a deeper friendship with Silas was a bad idea, because once again, she’d be pushing for something that only she wanted. And truly, she didn’t want that anyway.
What Rose wanted, what she needed, was a man who felt the same way about her that she did about him. Madly, deeply, passionately, in love.
Not a man who could kiss her with passion, declaring his love for her, then go off and marry someone else days later.
That wasn’t love, but a baser emotion that led people astray. The trouble was, Rose had settled for those baser emotions too many times, and now she wasn’t sure she’d know what love was if she found it.
But chasing a man and trying to get him to talk to her when he clearly didn’t want to open up, that wasn’t a situation where she’d find the elusive emotion.
They arrived at Mary’s house, and Will opened the door as soon as their feet hit the porch.
“I’m so glad you made it! We were wondering why it took so long for you to come see the baby.”
For the Sake of the Children Page 11