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 know.” Her shoulders shook slightly. “I’m supposed to forgive him and move on. But surely that doesn’t mean he needs to work in the mine.”
An impossible situation. Silas closed his eyes and sent a quick prayer heavenward that God would help him find a way to do the right thing by both his daughter and Rose. Then he turned and looked at her.
“I wouldn’t want to put anyone out. Perhaps your brother could recommend someone who might have work for me.”
Joseph shook his head. “None that would give you a fair deal. It’s a hard life up here, and most folks will take advantage of you, given half a chance. The Lord blessed me greatly, and it’s only fair that I share those blessings with the people who made it happen. I’m not saying that to boast because the only reason I have anything to boast about is because of the great mercies of the Lord. I can’t in good conscience let you work anywhere else.”
Then Joseph brought his attention to Rose. “And you know that’s the truth. Would you see a man with a young child taken advantage of? What would you want for Matthew?”
He didn’t wait for a response from Rose, but Silas could see the emotion playing on her face. She was at war with herself, knowing the truth of Joseph’s words, but not liking it. Silas didn’t like it much either, but having known Joseph most of his life, he knew that Joseph was a fair man. A good man. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to working for him.
“You’ll come work for me,” Joseph said. “I have a baby girl of my own. Catherine. The joy she brings me...well, I would do anything to help another man keep that for himself.”
The defeat on Rose’s face almost made Silas tell Joseph he’d find another way. But he couldn’t. Not with the little girl tugging on his shirt.
“Down!”
“It’s all right,” Frank said. “She won’t hurt anything in here. We have enough children in the parlor that we’ve put away everything a child might damage.”
More reassurances, like the ones Maddie had given when they’d first arrived.
“Thank you.” Silas put Milly down. “The Garretts were always particular about letting Milly run around. I suppose I’m still figuring out what’s reasonable for her.”
Milly made a beeline for the sofa where Rose sat. The expression on Rose’s face went from dejection to horror as Milly raced toward her. But what could Silas say? Don’t sit next to the lady because you’re the daughter of the person she hates most in this world?
Just before she reached Rose, Milly stumbled on the edge of the carpet, sending her sprawling into the sofa.
Before Silas could react, Rose jumped up and pulled Milly into her arms.
Silas couldn’t see Milly’s face, but he knew she was trying to decide whether or not to cry.
“There now, you’re a big brave girl, aren’t you?” Rose cuddled Milly in her arms as she sat back on the sofa. “Do you see why we don’t run in the house?”
The light blond head bobbed in agreement. Rose continued cradling Milly as though she’d forgotten whose child she held.
“Did you have fun in the kitchen with Maddie?” Rose brushed Milly’s hair with her fingers, and Silas realized as Rose seemed to examine the little girl intently, she was making sure Milly wasn’t injured.
Rose kissed the top of Milly’s head. “Not even a bump.”
Milly wiggled in Rose’s arms. “I sit big chair.”
The smile Rose gave his daughter reminded Silas of why he’d thought Rose would make a good mother. There was a compassion within her that seemed to understand instinctively what a child needed. Deeper than that, though, was that her heart seemed to flow with a never-ending love for children.
Rose relaxed her hold on Milly and allowed the little girl to scoot over to the unoccupied portion of the sofa. Milly preened as she adjusted herself to a comfortable position, her little legs not even reaching the edge of the seat. Milly smiled, a wide grin flashing a mouth full of baby teeth.
“I big girl,” Milly declared, her gaze sweeping the room.
She’d never been allowed to sit on the sofa in the parlor at the Garretts’ home. They’d told Milly little girls weren’t allowed in the room, and she spent most of her time confined to the nursery.
