only concerned for Millicent’s well-being.”
“Milly is just fine,” Silas said, emphasizing Milly’s name. From the twitch in his jaw, Rose could tell this was a fight they’d had before.
Maddie entered the room with a tea tray, busying herself with serving everyone, but Rose caught the watchful way she regarded the Garretts.
“You can hardly blame us, worrying the way we do,” Mrs. Garrett said firmly. “You ran away in the middle of the night, sneaking off with our only grandchild with no word of where you were taking her. A man with no means, and no experience raising children. If it hadn’t been for our investigator, we’d have no idea where to find her.”
Mr. Garrett pulled a paper out of his pocket. “This here’s from our lawyer. You’ll find the terms quite generous. We just want Millicent safely home.”
Rose watched as Silas read the paper. His face turned red as he examined its contents briefly before tossing it back at the Garretts.
“You want me to sell my daughter?”
Mr. Garrett smoothed the paper. “I wouldn’t call it, selling, precisely. Merely financial consideration for your trouble. As you know, we can give Millicent the best of everything, and we want you to have a token of our gratitude for allowing us the opportunity to give her the life she deserves.”
The skin on Rose’s arms prickled, and she rubbed them, despite the room being quite warm. Even the cup of tea Maddie pressed into her hand before leaving the room did nothing to stave off the chill. She’d known the Garretts to be self-serving, but this seemed to be going too far.
“Milly deserves a life with her father,” Silas said, standing. “I won’t allow you to take her from me.”
* * *
Silas couldn’t believe the gall of the Garretts to offer money for Milly, as though she were a prized horse. But that’s exactly what she was to them. Hadn’t they done the same with Annie? Dangling her and the farm out for the highest bidder? Had it not been for the clear stream that flowed on the Jones farm, Silas wouldn’t have been considered for the prize of their daughter.
What would Milly’s life be like, paraded around in frilly dresses, expected to act in accordance with their wishes? They might be selling the farm, but what price would they eventually put on Milly’s hand?
Silas’s stomach churned.
“Now, Silas,” Mrs. Garrett said in the sickeningly sweet tone that he’d always hated. “Do you think you’re giving Millicent any kind of life, with you working in a dirty mine all day, exhausting yourself? You’re not really raising her, now, are you?”
Then she glared at Rose. “And I will not have my granddaughter cared for by a doxy.”
“That’s enough,” Silas said, clenching his fists as he raised his voice to the older woman. If she’d been a man, he’d have punched her. “You have no right talking about Rose that way. You don’t even know her. She does an excellent job watching Milly, and I won’t hear you slander her character that way.”
“She did have a child out of wedlock, did she not?” Mrs. Garrett said in such a condescending tone that Silas felt the blood rushing to his hands. Violence never solved anything, but it was tempting.
“Yes, she did,” Frank answered, using the same calm tone he’d used during the entire time the Garretts had been there. “And while it’s easy for us all to cast stones at such a blatant sin, not one of us is so pure that we can. Rose has done an exemplary job of turning her life around, and I am sure we can all learn from her example.”
Silas saw the shame flash across Rose’s face until it settled on her cheeks as a faint pink. Her lips moved slightly as she briefly closed her eyes. She was praying. The Rose he’d known had gone to church, of course. They all went to church. But this Rose seemed to be deeply aware of her connection to God, and as the others discussed her behavior as though she wasn’t in the room, she took the discussion where it belonged—in prayer. Silas himself hadn’t even developed a close relationship with God until recently. Until circumstances, and needing to be a better man for his daughter’s sake, had made it clear that living his life without the Lord was no way to live at all. Perhaps becoming parents had changed them both.
The Garretts, however, didn’t have the same reaction. Mrs. Garrett pursed her lips in the disapproving way Silas had come to dread, and Mr. Garrett patted her hands.
“That may be so, Preacher,” Mr. Garrett said, “but why should our dear, sweet Millicent have to suffer for Rose’s sin? We are prepared to give Millicent a good home, where those living under our roof have never strayed from our good Christian values. Silas means well, but he can’t give Millicent the life she deserves.”
“How, exactly, does Milly suffer because of Rose’s sin?” The question was out of Silas’s mouth before he thought about it. Before he could consider that he’d be opening up Rose to more criticism.
Mrs. Garrett snorted. “I would think that’s obvious. I can’t see any of the respectable families receiving Millicent when she’s older because of Rose’s influence. And how will she make a proper match guided by someone who clearly put the cart before the horse?”
“Milly is two,” Silas said quietly. “She needs to be thinking about being a child, not finding a husband. And as for being received by the respectable families, kindly remember that the Stones are one of the most respected families in Leadville, aligned with the Jacksons of the Jackson banking empire, of which I’m sure you’ve heard.”
The Jackson name was prominently displayed on many buildings in town, their bank being the primary source of funding for many of Leadville’s business endeavors. They were also at the very top of Leadville society, patrons of most major charities, and though the Garretts had likely only been in town a short while, they would recognize the name.
“It’s true,” Frank said, nodding. “I don’t hold much for ranking people according to their importance in society, but I’ve always been appreciative of how well-received our Rose is. Naturally, Milly accompanies Rose when she goes visiting. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that Milly gets along very well with all the other children.”
The Garretts did not look pleased. Rather, they looked like someone had just told them the tea they’d been drinking had been laced with arsenic.
“Indeed,” Rose said, smiling. “And since you are so concerned with her spiritual welfare, let me assure you that she is learning to say her prayers, and I spend time every day reading Bible stories to her.”
Frank nodded. “We also have family Bible time every night. But do tell me, what does your spiritual practice look like? I always like to hear ways we can deepen our relationship with the Lord.”
The ashen color on both Garretts’ faces brought a smile to Silas’s face. He shouldn’t gloat, but having lived in that household, he knew that their spiritual practice was limited to church on Sunday and prayers at the evening meal. And they usually gave Milly her evening meal in the nursery, not with the family. In essence, they’d just countered the arguments the Garretts had made against Milly remaining where she was.
Truth be told, having the disparity in their spiritual lives pointed out made it more important than ever for Silas to raise Milly. The Garretts were very good about making sure everyone knew how charitable they were, but the miserly way they counted every penny they gave, unwilling to give beyond what they thought was their obligation, stood out in stark contrast to his time in a household that cheerfully gave everything they could.
Mr. Garrett coughed. “I suppose what you’re doing is sufficient. But that doesn’t change the fact that Silas is hardly qualified to raise a child. How can he be, when he’s not even there?”
Feeling stronger, braver, Silas gave him a hard look. “Does that mean you’ve dismissed the nanny you hired to care for Milly?”
Mrs. Garrett shrank back as