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.
“I meant what I said about watching Milly for you,” Rose said quietly. “I’ve been so focused on my heartbreak that I’d forgotten about our friendship. Joseph is right. You and your family were good to our family when so many people ignored our plight. It would be wrong of me to turn my back when you need our help.”
Comprehension flittered across Silas’s face, and Rose’s shoulders felt lighter, like some of the load she’d been carrying had been taken off. She’d never admitted to her heartbreak. Never told Silas that he’d hurt her. Only attacked him. But in acknowledging the feelings that had trapped her for so long, Rose finally felt like she could breathe in his presence without it hurting so much.
They were different people now, leading different lives. But if Rose kept focusing on how much he’d hurt her, the pain would never leave. She took a deep breath. Focusing on the good things, and the reason she should help him—that would be the key to moving on. The key to finally forgiving Silas once and for all.
They’d found a comfortable rhythm over the past few weeks. Uncle Frank had insisted that Silas and Milly stay with them. A boardinghouse was no place for a small child who needed to run and play. With Joseph and Annabelle’s house next door and Mary living with her husband, Will, nearby, the Lassiter house had plenty of room for Silas and his daughter.
The perfect arrangement, except that as much as Rose tried to feel more positive toward Silas, the ever-present ache in her stomach when he was around never seemed to dissipate.
Even knowing he’d been right about the milk didn’t seem to ease the trouble in her heart. Rose tucked the blanket around her sleeping son, grateful that she’d gotten Matthew and Milly to take naps at the same time in the afternoon. She’d have two hours all to herself.
In the beginning, she’d used nap time to catch up on her sleep. But now that Matthew was sleeping through the night, Rose wasn’t as weary.
As she closed the door behind her, she saw Silas coming up the stairs.
“What are you doing home so early?”
Silas gave an easy smile, the kind that had once left her breathless. Now it gave her a different feeling, an old ache like what Maddie often described as her joints acting up