again. I deserve better, and the woman I marry deserves better.”
With a long sigh, Silas brought his attention back to Rose. “It was wrong of me to come here, thinking that marriage to you was the answer to my problems. I sincerely apologize for any heartache it might have caused you.”
Rose’s stomach twisted. What did Silas know of the heartache he’d caused? She’d finally found a way to live in peace with her broken heart, and now he had to come to remind her of all the mistakes she’d made.
“And,” he continued, “I apologize for the way I broke your heart back in Ohio. It was wrong of me to court you in secret, knowing my father and Annie’s father were in negotiations over our marriage. I thought...”
Another dark look crossed his face, and for a moment, Rose thought he might actually be in physical pain. But just as quickly as it came, the expression left.
“Well, I don’t suppose it matters what I thought. No matter how I justified it then, looking back, I had no right to trifle with your heart. My only excuse is that I truly believed my intentions were honorable. I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
Real regret sounded in his voice, and as much as the anger churning in Rose’s gut wanted to tell him that all of his justifications meant nothing, the weight of Uncle Frank’s gaze on her reminded her that her sins made her no better than Silas.
“I suppose that we all do things that are wrong, justifying them with all kinds of excuses, when deep down, we know that we shouldn’t.” The ache in her belly started to subside, and Rose took a deep breath. “I’ve made my own share of mistakes, but Uncle Frank is constantly reminding me that the Lord loves and forgives me anyway.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. Oh, she knew what she was supposed to do here. Forgive Silas. That’s what Uncle Frank preached about constantly—loving and forgiving others. She’d thought it hard enough to forgive Ben Perry, the father of her child, an outlaw who’d only been using her to get his hands on her family’s fortune. But she had. It had taken so much prayer, so much time reading her Bible, but it wasn’t until she held little Matthew that she understood that she couldn’t possibly hate someone who’d given her such an incredible gift.
Her family had forgiven her for the scandal she’d brought upon them by running away with an outlaw. They’d forgiven 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
