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.