her for the scandal of her child born out of wedlock. Even when members of the church had left the congregation because they were shocked that Uncle Frank would not condemn Rose for her behavior, her family had stood by her in love and acceptance.
Rose didn’t feel like forgiving Silas. No, she felt like raging at him for how deeply he’d hurt her. How that hurt had made her do unspeakable things, hurting those she loved. Her insides churned, reminding her of how his abandonment had left her raw and empty.
But how could she be a hypocrite, and deny him that which had been offered to her so freely?
Rose took a deep breath. “I forgive you, Silas.”
Saying the words should have made her feel better, but they didn’t. All the years she’d dreamed of him crawling back to her, saying how sorry he was, it didn’t change any of the pain in her heart. Uncle Frank had told her that sometimes forgiveness meant acting on it long before you felt it, but in Rose’s case, she wondered if she would ever feel that particular emotion.
Forgiving him might be the right thing to do, but it didn’t ease the pain in her heart. It didn’t make any of the things that had happened any better. And even though everyone else in the room looked relieved at Rose’s words, they only made her feel worse.
Uncle Frank had told her that forgiveness was a process. That when Jesus said you had to forgive someone seventy times seven, He meant it almost literally, because some things hurt so much that you had to keep forgiving, even when it hurt, until the pain went away. If that were the case, then Rose supposed she had another 489 more times to go.
Please, Lord, help me. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to have to keep forgiving Silas. Not when my heart hurts so very much.
Rose’s only consolation was knowing that, now that she’d said the words, to Silas, and in front of her family, Silas could return home, and continue with his life. And Rose could do the same.
Rose’s words sounded hollow, fake. Like they had when her Aunt Ina would ask her to do something, and she didn’t want to do it but knew she had no choice but to obey. But she’d said she forgave him, and Silas had an equal obligation to accept.
“Thank you,” Silas said quietly, wishing it could be like the old times when he could tell her that he knew she didn’t mean it and that he understood. But they no longer had the kind of relationship where they could be so honest with one another.
“Good, good.” Frank clapped Silas on the back. “I told you it would all work out. Now that things are settled between you and Rose, we need to figure out how you’re going to keep that beautiful little girl of yours.”
Silas turned to look at him. “I don’t understand.”
Joseph chuckled. “Ah, my friend, you really had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you told Frank of your situation. I’ve yet to see him let anyone leave without a reliable solution to their problems.”
Rose let out a long sigh, and the pained expression on her face made Silas wish he’d never come. He’d wronged her; she’d forgiven him, but it seemed that his presence only rubbed salt into her wounds. Silas truly hadn’t intended to hurt her. Hadn’t dreamed that he’d be causing her this much pain by reentering her life.
“It’s all right,” Silas said, looking at Rose. “I’m sure we’ll manage just fine.”
“None of that.” Frank clapped him on the back again. “There’s no sense in going it alone when you have others willing to come alongside you and help. You have too much at stake to let your pride intervene.”
Silas had thought he’d already given up much of his pride just coming here. Facing Rose and realizing how much damage he’d done, it wasn’t pride that made him want to leave, but an earnest desire not to hurt her anymore.
Milly came running into the room. “Papa!”
Her little voice made any indecision he might have had disappear. No, he didn’t want to hurt Rose, but his actions now weren’t about her. Rather, they were about a small child who needed him.
Silas scooped her up in his arms. “Were you a good girl?”
“An absolute darling,” Maddie said, smiling. “I don’t think I’ve met such a well-behaved young lady. She just sat at the table, proper as could be, and ate her cookie. She even let me wipe her hands and face without so much as a whimper.”
That, of course, was the Garretts’ doing. They believed that children were to be seen, not heard, and worked very hard at training Milly to be perfectly quiet and obedient. Annie had been the same way. As much as he regretted not loving Annie fully, Silas had often wondered if Annie harbored any romantic feelings toward him. Most times it seemed as though marrying Silas was one more of Annie’s acts of obedience to her parents.
“I’m glad she behaved for you,” Silas said, ruffling his daughter’s feathery blond hair. Though he’d seen other parents at church lament how their little ones misbehaved, he wished his own daughter would take life into her own hands sometimes and throw the kind of tantrum that meant the Garretts hadn’t completely broken her spirit.
Milly leaned into him and let out a contented sigh. Then Silas turned toward Frank. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep my daughter. What do you have in mind?”
It wasn’t Frank, but Joseph, who answered. “How’s your father’s farm doing?”
If Silas hadn’t been facing arrows of all kinds shot in his direction since arriving here, he might have felt the agonizing pain of this one. Instead, it was just one more dig at the wounds he carried.
“Gone.” Silas swallowed the sour liquid rising from his stomach. “My father died shortly after I married Annie, and the Garretts absorbed the farm. Now that Annie’s gone...”
He didn’t want to finish the sentence. Marrying Annie had cost Silas everything. With her death, the loss had been just as complete. Meeting Joseph’s eyes, he said, “The Garretts are already arranging the sale of the farm so they can move to town. Robert Garrett’s health is failing, and he can’t work the farm anymore. That was supposed to be the reason for my marriage to Annie. But now, the Garretts think it ‘isn’t seemly’ for me to remain in that capacity.”
“What are you doing to support yourself?” Joseph’s question stung, mostly because only a few years ago, the situation had been reversed. Joseph, willing to do anything to support his family, and Silas, looking for ways to help him.
“Anything I can find. The Garretts have made it hard for me to find work anywhere back home, which is part of why I left. I’ve been doing whatever honest work people offer me to get by.”
“I’m sure your lack of regular employment is one of the arguments the Garretts are using to take Milly away from you. They can provide a better life for her than you can.” Frank’s words were a bitter reminder of the battle ahead.
“Milly doesn’t need anything fancy. Food, clothes, a solid roof and a father who loves her. I just wish the Garretts could see that.”
His voice caught when he said that, making the words come out less forceful than he’d intended.
“All the same,” Frank said, “you’ll stand a better chance of keeping your daughter if you have a good job. Joseph?”
“I’m always looking for help at the mine. If I recall—”
“You can’t be serious!”
Silas had almost forgotten Rose was in the room, but her outburst was enough to remind everyone that he wasn’t the only one affected by the discussion happening.
“Now, Rose, dear...” Frank’s voice was gentle, and Rose’s eyes filled with tears.
“I