“What circumstances?” Joseph glared at him.
Silas swallowed. He supposed he’d done enough to damage his pride already. Might as well tell them. Besides, Joseph was a good man. He’d left Ohio shortly after Silas married Annie, but they’d always gotten along.
“Annie’s parents don’t think it’s appropriate for a single man to be raising his daughter alone. They were in the process of taking legal action to take her away from me. I thought if I got married again, their argument wouldn’t hold water, and I wouldn’t have to worry about losing Milly.”
“And there were no eligible women in Ohio?” The sarcasm in Joseph’s voice reminded Silas of Rose. Only Joseph’s tone lacked the bitterness Rose held.
“Rose and I loved each other once,” Silas said quietly. “I’d hoped...”
Now his hopes seemed foolish.
“You broke her heart.” Joseph leaned forward, staring at him. “How could you think she’d welcome you so easily?”
He wanted to say that it was because, after three years of being married to someone else, of doing everything he could to be a good husband to Annie, that he’d been unable to forget Rose. Not in the sense that he was still in love with her, rather, he had many fond memories of their time together. Surely they could build something on that.
He’d been wrong.
“I wasn’t thinking,” Silas said instead. “I was so desperate to find a way to keep my daughter that I suppose I didn’t consider Rose’s feelings had changed.”
“You didn’t consider them at all,” Joseph said quietly.
In the one conversation Silas had with Rose after his engagement to Annie was announced, she called him selfish, only thinking of himself and not of anyone else. He’d tried explaining that to marry Rose would have been selfish—his parents’ farm was in trouble, but by marrying the daughter of the family with the adjoining farm, it could be saved. But now, he wondered if perhaps her words were true.
“I didn’t mean to be selfish.” Silas ran his hands down his face. “I truly just wanted to do right by my daughter. I never meant to cause Rose any pain.”
Frank nodded slowly. “I can see that. But it seems to me that two folks marrying to solve a problem only ever creates more problems. Rose deserves a man who considers her happiness above his own, and you deserve happiness, as well. So let’s figure out a way to help you besides you marrying our girl.”
* * *
Rose couldn’t believe what she heard as she reentered the room.
“Why haven’t you gotten rid of him?”
“Now, Rose,” Uncle Frank said gently, “Silas is here because he needs help, and it is our Christian duty to do what we can for him.”
“He needs help because he’s a lying snake.” Rose glared at him, then turned to her brother. “Please tell me that you aren’t part of this scheme.”
Joseph gave an unapologetic shrug. “If it weren’t for Silas’s father giving me work on their farm when they could ill afford it, I wouldn’t have had the money to come to Leadville, and then we wouldn’t have the life we do. I owe him a debt.”
“Which was canceled the day he broke his word to me about getting married.”
She hadn’t expected, even after three years, that it would still hurt to think about how, the day after she was supposed to meet him to run away to get married, his father had announced in church that Silas was marrying Annie Garrett.
Granted, she’d been over an hour late for their meeting, but Silas knew how hard it was for her to get away. Why hadn’t he waited for her? How long had he waited by the old oak tree before he’d gone over to the Garrett farm and had pie with Annie? Had he even come?
For as long as she’d thought about those questions, they should have easily been on her tongue to ask him. But the truth was, as much as they hurt, the answers didn’t matter. He’d married Annie, not Rose.
“I’m sorry,” Silas said quietly. “What I did to you was unforgivable. But I hope you’ll let me make amends.”
“Amends?” Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but Rose willed them to stay in place. Silas didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing how many tears she’d cried over him. “I hope you don’t think that your offer of marriage can possibly...”
Silas shook his head, looking so mournful that Rose almost felt bad for being so harsh with him. “I spoke in haste. I was wrong to assume...”
Then he straightened, squaring his shoulders. “The truth is I need a wife so Annie’s parents can’t take Milly from me. I saw how you cared for your siblings, for the other children in our church. You’re the only person I would trust Milly with.”
Fighting to keep her composure, Rose took a deep breath. Of course this wasn’t about rekindling their flame. Everyone knew Silas had married Annie for her farm. Now he wanted to marry her to give his daughter a mother. A glorified nanny, only with marriage.
“I see,” she said slowly, looking at Joseph to see if he, too, understood that this was just another selfish maneuver that would only lead to her heartbreak—again.
He followed her gaze, nodding at Joseph, who nodded back. “No, you don’t. My first marriage, though I have nothing to complain about, lacked the kind of love a man and a woman ought to share.”
Then, with a darkness in his eyes Rose had never seen before, he said, “Joseph and Frank reminded me that I shouldn’t settle for that kind of marriage 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