Claire, Brit and Kris all cooed to the new baby and cried with joy and relief while they washed Clarita in the storm-tossed early morning. Bronco, big bruiser that he was, cried when Claire put the little, black-haired, brown-eyed bundle into his shaking arms. He had only been invited into the birthing room for the last few minutes of the delivery so that Nita could focus on pushing. Despite the darkness in the house and probably devastation outside, Bronco and Nita’s joy brightened everything.
Even Lexi and Jilly got a peek at the new baby, and Claire noticed the next time she was in Lexi’s room that not only was the doll still wrapped head to toe, but it had been shoved under Lexi’s bed. So, Claire hoped, there was both light and power in a house that had neither right now.
Finally, Claire shooed the other visitors out and left the new, little family alone.
“A first baby and only about six hours of labor,” Claire told Brit. “Unbelievable. Don’t know what was wrong with me to take so long with Lexi.”
“She’s worth it,” Brit said, “and glad to hear she dumped that doll. Tough times but full steam ahead—like mother, like daughter.”
Everyone sat or stood around the kitchen table while Kris wrangled removing things from the warming refrigerator. “Perfect for a new baby celebration!” she announced. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cookies and soda pop, just like we’re all kids again. Or water or warmish orange juice. Nick says no adults are allowed alcoholic beverages until after lunch and then he’s going to check your IDs.”
How proud Claire was of these people, trying to carry on despite the dangers and dark parts of life. She and Nick were blessed to have such family and friends—and a new life in the other room she could hear crying. Maybe she should go back in and be sure Nita could nurse Clarita. No formula around here, but they would make do. Then the crying stopped, so maybe Nita or even Bronco had figured things out. She’d go knock on the door and look in later. And what tales of her delivery they would all have to share with Clarita as she grew up.
Claire thought of Will again, driving through the storm, fleeing, but worst of all, maybe never to see his daughter and grandchildren again. Yet knowing Will, he’d be back someday, delivering a package at Darcy’s door, calling on the phone to tell Jilly or even Drew a tale about his adventures...
“Claire,” Nick said, putting his arm around her, “you’re nodding off. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Food first. I’m famished.”
As she ate PB&J, she began to feel she was on her second—maybe third or fourth—wind after being up and through so much these last twenty-four hours. She was even mostly thinking straight, and for a narcoleptic, that was pretty good.
She had to tell Steve about Will being Darcy’s father and explain all he’d done to make those who had hurt Darcy pay. Nick had only told him so far that they’d learn from Detective Jensen that the charges against him had a good chance of being completely dropped, and that Nick would look into it as soon as things returned—somewhat, at least—to normal.
When this weather stopped, they were all going to gear up to help others who did not have as strong a house. Claire nodded as everyone spoke of that. Even the new home of Bronco, Nita and Clarita would need a thorough examination, and it was possible they wouldn’t have much to go home to, anyway. But they—this family and these people, including Darcy, of course—would pull together on that.
And, above all, as soon as possible, Steve had agreed that Claire should tell Darcy about Will alone, though he and the kids—Jilly, at least, since it wouldn’t be possible for Drew to get back yet—would be waiting outside the room at the hospital. Depending on how Darcy took that news, she would either stay there for more counseling, or be able to go home—if she and Steve still had a home in decent shape, since their neighborhood was older.
After breakfast, Claire slept most of the morning and early afternoon. When she woke, she sat up in bed, alarmed. What was wrong? Something was very wrong!
Then she realized the wind no longer howled, and the rain no longer pounded on the roof. She took her meds Nick must have left next to the bed and got up to look out. Windy, but not bad. Daylight, but no sun. Two palm trees had toppled over to crush their back fence, and things looked beaten down with debris strewn and snagged almost everywhere.
“Like life,” she whispered. “Like my life, but I’ve come through, and Darcy has to come through, too.”
“Wow, what a storm!” Darcy said the minute Claire joined her in her room at the hospital late that day. “I watched a lot of it out the window. I’m scared to hear what Steve finds when he checks our house. And hopefully the airport is open again in time for Drew to come home next week. The cell towers are still down, but we’re going to explain everything to him in person when he gets back. I can’t wait to get home with all my family there. I can’t thank you enough for taking them all in during the storm!”
“Of course,” Claire said. “We missed you, though.”
“I hope so! Claire,” she said, lowering her voice and drawing her over to the couch to sit, “I think I’m ready to leave here. To try to be normal again, even if some things I can’t explain still kind of...haunt me. Dr. Spizer said you might be able to fill in some of the blanks.”
“Yes, thanks to Will Warren, who did some private detective work to learn what happened to you, who took you and why.”
“Will? Really? But how does he figure in?” she asked, reaching over and gripping Claire’s hands so tightly that Claire almost winced.
“He figures in a lot, more than I realized. You knew he was especially fond of you...”
“True—and Jilly, too, though Drew seemed not to like him. Boys!”
“Do you remember Will from our youth, before he took off for parts unknown for a while?”
“I don’t. He told me he went to Japan—research, I think—because he wanted to write about butterflies. Well, you know, that lovely book of his.”
“But before he went, after Dad deserted Mother, even before that, I think, Will came to the house with books for her.”
“You did tell me that, though can’t say I remember. Claire, just tell me. What’s all this about Will? Was he injured in the storm?”
“Okay, here’s what I’ve learned. Our father had another woman—a common-law wife, no less—he visited on his salesman travels. But Mother, too, had an extramarital affair—with Will.”
“With our mother? Meeting—in the house? But then he left? Is that when he went to Japan? Why didn’t he stay and marry her? I mean, how long were they together? I’m not following you. Could that be what made her so strange—losing two men?”
“There’s more. Will had things lined up to make a lot of money there, he told me, money he wanted to bring back and use to support her—and us. She said if he left, he didn’t care for her, but...but he did. And he has all these years.”
“Was what he did in Japan illegal? Tara told me there’s a lot of smuggling and black marketing of butterflies there.”
“Yes, some, I think, but that isn’t the big news. There was a time when he and Mother loved each other very much. They had a love child. And that child...is you.”
Darcy’s hands remained in Claire’s, but they went very still. Her eyes widened, looking past Claire, who feared what was coming next—inward retreat or an explosion.
But Darcy only heaved a huge sigh. When she blinked, tears speckled her lashes.
“Crazy as it sounds, I feel like I knew that,” she whispered, looking at Claire. “But he—he never said it. He should have. I knew he wasn’t in love with me romantically. He was so proper, yet concerned and protective—interested in my life.”
“He loved you very much—still does—and took great care to show me the place you were kept. He wanted justice, wanted to expose those who hurt you. He loved Jilly, too—and yes, said he noticed Drew didn’t take to him and that hurt.”
“So much hurt. Mother’s agoraphobia. Her reading all those books, burying herself in them, never one word about Dad’s desertion. Not a word about Will. At first, when we were young, of course not, but why not later? And he should have tried to contact her, tried again those years she was alone. But then, remember the checks she received from a great-aunt she didn’t remember every Christmas? What if...?”
“He didn’t say that, but yes. What if? He did tell me he visited her grave more than once, even released some butterflies there. Darcy, I want us to be complete sisters for always,” she said, and started to cry herself. “So forget the half-sister thing.”
They hugged hard, held on. “Tell me all he did and every word he said,” Darcy insisted. “And tell me he’s safe, that I can see him soon.”
“Let me explain from the beginning.” Claire sat back, swiping at more tears. Darcy was in for another blow, but she was here with her and they were both going home soon. “Let me just be your sister still in every way and tell you all I know. And then, how much you tell Jilly, Drew and Steve now or someday is up to you, though Steve does already know Will is your father.”
Darcy nodded. “Yes, start at the beginning. And I always knew my dear sister would be my best friend for life—forever, too.”