The family, though few had met her, had been kind, providing clothing, food, and shelter while she healed. Would it be so hard to go and thank them?
Darcy brushed the borrowed dress clean of imaginary lint then took a step toward the door. She would eat with them then retreat to the safety of her cloistered room.
Each step seemed to take a life time as Darcy headed through the pasture and out through the small gate, heading for the big house that filled the horizon. It seemed strange not to see children running through the yard, or men moving about doing chores. She had grown accustomed to the noise and movement of the ranch in the past few weeks. Now that silence left her feeling more alone than she could ever remember.
Although she hadn’t been outside much, Darcy had observed the ranch routine and marveled at the number of people living and working together on the Broken J to see to its success.
Her family had never seemed to do well, no matter how hard they worked and the harder they tried the more they seemed to fail to make a living in the small patch of dirt they called home. A foul bitterness gurgled in her gut as she walked steadily toward the other house.
Darcy’s brothers had quickly grown into hard men, who seldom smiled, and her father had grown old and weary before her eyes. Life was not kind, but just this once she could be. She could remember to be thankful for this one moment and show up for Blake. Her little Turnip deserved at least that consideration. Darcy’s lips twitched, perhaps he did, but she didn’t have to let him know it.
Darcy had just reached the front stairs when a peel of bright laughter echoed from around the back of the house. Pausing, she listened again as others joined in. Despite herself Darcy found herself smiling and she turned, headed for the back of the house.
Hesitating at the edge of the large gray building Darcy poked her head around the corner taking in the long tables on the back porch filled with smiling, laughing people, eating their meal.
For long moments, she studied the scene, listening and learning as she did so. A big man sat at the head of the table flanked by a younger man who was nearly as big as he was. Beside them a tall, willowy blonde woman settled a fractious child. A curly haired woman, a fine thread of silver hair at her brow sat on the other side of the oversized fellow, chatting and smiling as they spoke in low tones.
On the other side of the table sat a tall slim man whose brown hair had all but turned gray. A beautiful woman with silver-golden hair sat next to him clinging to his arm as she laughed as well.
Clay, Blake, and Meg all sat on the opposite side of the table and Darcy grinned when she caught Meg wagging a finger at the big man who boomed with laughter.
Next, sitting on the bench seats across from each other, like some form of living book ends, were two women who looked exactly alike. They’re dark shoulder length hair still rich and glossy as if age could not touch them. A thin man with bright red hair, now muted with streaks of white, sat by one woman while across from him a shorter man with sandy hair mimed some parody of riding a horse.
On the near end of the table, Reese and Mae sat skirted by their nearly grown children who chatted with the multitude of other young ones smattered about the table. The whole lot of them ranged in age from a very old and shriveled cow hand on the edge of the last bench, to children who were no more than ten, a motley crew indeed.
The family, as Blake had said, was huge.
Taking a steadying breath, Darcy tried to order her thoughts and recall the names that Blake had mentioned in their chats, then stepped forward and headed for the stairs.
One by one the members of the Broken J grew quiet as Darcy made a slow climb up the stairs. Reaching the porch floor she wiped damp hands down her skirt feeling every eye on her.
“Darcy,” Blake stood climbing from his seat and walking toward her. “I’d like to introduce you to my family.” Gently the man placed one arm around her shoulders, placing his other hand on her arm, turning her slightly so that everyone could see her.
“This is my friend Darcy,” he started smiling at the family, then looking at her when she chuckled at the children’s hellos. “Darcy, this is my family.”
“I’m pleased to meet you all,” Darcy said, before Blake could start naming the myriad of people. “I’ve heard so much about you that I feel as if I know you already.” She offered a nervous smile. “If you’ll continue, as you were, I’m sure I’ll be able to sort everyone out in time.”
“Sounds like a smart woman,” the old-timer chuckled. “Now how ‘bout you get her some grub. She looks like she could use it.”
Blake chuckled. “Stevens, you don’t say much but when you speak it makes sense.”
Blake led Darcy back to where he had been seated a moment ago, while everyone shifted slightly to make room for her. The woman with the rebellious curls hurried into the house and returned with an additional place setting as the noise and chatter began once more.
A warm shiver raced down Darcy’s spine as the jovial conversation resumed. She felt like a puzzle piece that had somehow been slipped into the right spot and everything fit.
Turning to gaze at Blake as he replied to his Uncle Will,
