by Danni Roan
On the far wall a huge many doored, built in pantry, covered nearly the whole space and only ended at the frame of a dark oaken door set in the same wall. It was a large yet cozy room and Clayton could only imagine how many people must live here to need the large tables.
A minute later, having washed her hands at the sink the plump woman herself brought a plate of soft white sugar cookies, flexed with tiny bits of lemon peel and two cups to the table. She then returned to the stove and using a thick dishcloth lifted the large coffee pot and poured two steaming mugs for the men.
“Do you take cream or sugar?” the woman asked politely, waiting for his reply.
“No ma’am, I can’t imagine it needin’ any sweetening if you made it.” He smiled and winked.
To Joshua’s astonishment, his boisterous, efficient mother-in-law blushed and with a titter walked away.
Shaking his head, the tall, lean cattleman turned back to the young man who now sat sipping his coffee, eyes hooded.
“I’m afraid my brother didn’t give us much information about you Clayton, so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself and your experience with ranching before I try to sort out this mess I call a home.”
Taking another sip of his coffee Clayton used the time to gather his thoughts. There was so much to tell, so many things that had happened, and a few that no one could know. Placing his cup on the table he looked up into the piercing ice blue eyes of his new boss; a quiver ran down him with the thought, but he let out a breath and began.
“As you know sir, I’ve come up from Texas this past month but I’m from Florida originally.” He paused a moment casting his mind back to the ranch he’d just left a few weeks ago. “Mr. Jude was right kind to me and let me work this winter with him so as I wouldn’t have to travel in the cold weather.”
He smiled, his eyes sparkling in the soft light coming through the big windows behind him. “I’m afraid I’ve never actually experienced much of a winter.” He chuckled ruefully. “This past one in Texas was plumb cold if you ask me, but Mr. Jude said it’s nothin’ in comparison to what ya’ll get up here.” He glanced over his shoulder as if expecting snow at any minute, but then continued in his soft, flowing drawl.
“Before working for your brother, sir I worked my father’s ranch down in Kissimmee, Florida. If you’ve been long from the East, you might have heard of it as Allendale. It’s quite the little cattle town and I’ll be frank with ya sir we cow hunters down that way, well some of us made out quite well during that unpleasantness between the states. Seems like both sides needed beef and we had a-plenty. We've been shipping to Cuba ever since and that didn't go so badly either. My pa, he had a spread from his pa down south o’ Kissimmee and did alright for himself.”
He hesitated again and took a long swallow of his coffee as if trying to wash a bad taste out of his mouth.
Joshua couldn’t help but notice how the boy’s accent had deepened as he told his tale and he suspected there was as much unsaid as said but studying the young man’s face he could see no real deception in him, just a hint of sorrow.
“Now you see the thing is that my daddy, God rest his soul, up and lost the ranch and that’s sort a put me at loose ends, so’s I just saddled up The Duke and lit out to see a bit more o’ this glorious country.” He smiled at the end, a glib expression dancing across his face, but a golden fire flickered in his eyes. “My Mama, had been gone a good while by then you see and so I had no ties to keep me in the area.”
Joshua studied the young man a while over his coffee cup, watching as the puncher slipped his hand into his right vest pocket, running his finger over something there absent-mindedly. He could only imagine how hard that story must have been to tell and how much harder it must have been to live. To lose everything like that, to be cut loose of the only home that you’d known your whole life.
Opening his mouth to speak Clayton snapped it shut again as two identical girls, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old, walked into the room. They had their heads bent together and only paused a moment to smile cheerfully at him as they swept on into the kitchen to the older woman who must be their grandmother. He watched as together they kissed her soft cheeks and looked in the pot she had simmering on the stove.
Joshua, having seen his new hands eyes following something across the room, turned in his chair and smiled.
“Well, no time like the present.” He said with a grin. “Issy, Lexi come along here and meet Mr. Allen.” He called and obediently the girls turned toward them.
Unlike their older sister, the twins had dark brown, almost black hair, dark chocolate eyes, and soft rounded faces. They were also a good few inches shorter than Miss. Meg had been.
Together the girls stepped up to the table, planting a quick kiss on their father’s cheek before addressing the stranger.
“Please to meet you Mr. Allen.” They said in quiet voices.
“I’m Isabelle.” The first girl spoke. “But everyone calls me Issy, please feel free to do the same.” She gave him a stunning smile, her eyes bright and curious.
“And I’m Alexis, but I’m called Lexi.” She too offered him a smile, one that felt real and genuinely welcoming as her dark eyes danced.
“Oh, and don’t worry about mixing us up we’re used to that by now.” She turned grinning at her sister. “Would you like some more coffee?” she asked winding down.
“That’d be nice girls.” Joshua’s soft voice, full of affection, replied to the question as cheerfully the two girls turned away heading toward the stove.
Joshua James ran a weathered hand through his snowy white hair and blew out a quick breath, shaking his head.
“Is everything all right sir?” Clayton’s voice showed real concern and Joshua couldn’t help but chuckle.
“No son, it’s just that you’re in for a bit of a shock come lunch time and I’m not sure where to start.”
The young man leaned back on the wide bench, tossing a lock of raven black hair out of his eyes and grinning. “Well sir, I always like to start at the beginning, it seems that if you do that you get to the end right about on time.”
Joshua James tilted back his head and laughed aloud. His icy eyes twinkling with delight. “Yes, I suppose that would make the most sense.” He finally forced out around his mirth.
“You see son this is a big place and well, the Broken J’s been around a good long time, more than twenty years actually. It’s not just my family living here; my other hands are as much family as my daughters.”
Again he ran a hand through his white hair that was thick and lush for a man his age. “I guess the simplest thing to do is just tell you who’s who and hope that in time you can sort it out.” He took a deep breath and then plunged in.
“You’ve met Meg.” Joshua noticed the flicker of light that passed across the young man’s eyes and stroked a hand across his face to school his features.
“Muiread, we call her Meg, is my second daughter, from my first marriage. She’ll be upstairs with my oldest daughter Katrion, or Katie for short, right now.” He hesitated again. “I have one more daughter from that marriage her name’s Fiona and you’ll meet her at lunch.” Taking a sip of the fresh coffee Lexi had just poured into his cup he continued.
“You’ve met Lexi and Issy, their mother was Bianca’s daughter, Cammy. I’ll leave it at that for the moment. You’ll find that all of the girls call Bianca Nona which is Italian for grandmother.” Joshua stopped sipping more coffee and picked up a cookie while watching the younger man’s reaction.
“Why that’s quite a family you’ve got sir.” The cowpoke said, his eyes following the girls as they tied aprons around their simple dark blue dresses and began helping their grandmother with lunch preparations.
Joshua chuckled shaking his head. “That’s the thing son, I haven’t reached the end yet.” He watched as wide amber eyes turned back to face him. Joshua shook his head again and sucked in another deep breath.
“I have one more daughte
r. Her name is Mae Lynn and her great-grandfather lives here with us as well. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised I haven’t seen him around already. He tends to like to help Bianca out in the kitchen.”
A soft ‘humph’ from the stove indicated that the woman herself had heard and was perhaps not entirely of the same opinion.
“So I guess Chen Lou is what you’d call my great father-in-law, while Isadoro is my regular father-in-law. That’s Bia’s husband of course.” He took another sip of coffee and let his words soak in for a while.
“Now let me see if I got this all right.” Clayton began, slicking his over-long hair off his face with both hands, revealing a slight widows peak at the top of his forehead. “You have six daughters sir?” Joshua nodded. “The twins belong to Mrs. Bianca, and Mr. Isadoro.”
“They all belong to me!” Bianca’s indignant voice echoed across the kitchen, and Clayton flinched at the scowl on her face as she planted her hands on ample hips.
Fortunately, he was saved by the twins who swooped in to appease their grandmother.
“That’s not what he meant Nona.” One of the girls said wrapping her arm around the older woman’s shoulder and turning her back toward her large cast iron and enamel stove.
“No.” the other girls echoed, casting a glance over her shoulder at him. “Mr. Allen is just trying to get his mind around this crazy miss-matched household and he’ll have to do it anyway he can. Besides we know that we’re all your girls.” Again, she planted a soft kiss on her grandmother’s cheek.
Joshua shook his head and leaned conspiratorially across the table. “That son is what you refer to as a close call.”
Clayton smiled despite himself. “Well, at least I have one thing right in my head sir.”
“Now where was I? Oh yes, you have Katie who’s the oldest, Miss. Meg...” he paused as her angular features danced across his mind’s eye, her aquamarine eyes at once haughty and alluring. Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand he continued. “Then Miss. Fiona, the twins and finally Mae Lynn the youngest. How’d I do with that sir?”
“Well that’s a fair start but there’s a good deal more to it I’m afraid.”
As if on cue, Meg walked back into the kitchen accompanied by a tall young woman with dark honey gold hair, her bright eyes an icy shade like her father’s, only green instead of blue.
“Mm. Nona what’s for lunch? I’m starving since I missed breakfast.” She said as she walked, skirts swishing to where her grandmother stood over the stove. She was a pretty girl with a slightly more rounded figure than her younger sister and hair the color of wild honey in sunlight.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” The older woman chimed. “The mint tea must have helped.”
“Yes it did. It was so funny the queasiness seemed to pass quite suddenly.” The girl replied in a bewildered tone.
Nona reached up and patted her granddaughter’s cheek, a delighted smile flashing across her face, before turning back to the stove and giving the pot another stir.
In the next moment, a tall puncher with dark hair, stepped through the back door, tossed his hat on a peg and in one stride had Katie in his arms.
“You feeling better, darlin’?” he asked, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Clayton looked to Mr. James who smiled happily at the couple. “That’s my son-in-law Will Robertson. You’ll meet him in a minute.”
The opening of the back door interrupted the discussion again and this time a huge, heavily muscled man ducked under the doorframe, behind a young woman with curly, dark chestnut hair who was holding the little boy from outside’s hand.
Again Clayton turned to Mr. James. “That’s Fiona with Eric, you met him outside, and her husband Hank Ballard.”
“Howdy Mr. Clayton.” Eric called from his left. The boy had a knack for sneaking up on him.
“Well howdy, again Eric.” Clayton replied brightly. “Your grandpa’s been trying to help me sort out who everyone is here but I’m afraid it’s all pretty confusing. You reckon you can help me keep everyone straight here as I settle in?”
“Sure thing.” The boy chimed happily. “Ma, Pa, come meet Mr. Clayton.” He called over his shoulder.
The big man stomped to the table and Clayton rose to his feet extending his hand, which was engulfed in the other man’s much larger one.
“Welcome to the Broken J.” Hank said his voice rumbling from deep in a broad chest. “I’m Hank Ballard, and let me introduce you to my wife Fiona.” His gray eyes sparkled as he drew his wife close to his side.
“Clayton Allen, Ms. Fiona.” Clayton said bowing over her hand. “Pleasure to meet ya’ll.”
“How do you do?” the young woman smiled, her hazel green eyes cheerful and kind, then turning excused herself with “I’ll just see how I can help with lunch. It should be ready shortly.”
“I warned you son.” Joshua said as Clayton stood watching more men pour through the back door. “I reckon, we’ll let them get settled while I take you on out to the barn so you can get your horse put up, then when everyone’s here I’ll bring you back in and introduce you around.”
“Yes, sir.” Clayton replied enthusiastically. “I reckon I should see to The Duke and maybe just clear my head a little bit at the same time.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the steadily increasing noise of the crowded kitchen.
Chapter 3
Clayton slapped his crisp black hat on his head, and followed Mr. James back down the long hall way and out the door to where his horse stood dozing in the early afternoon sun. Reaching out he unwound the reins from the hitching post and turned the animal toward the barn, falling easily into step with his employer.
“You bring that horse all the way from Florida?” the older man asked, looking at the animal carefully.
“Yes sir. The Duke and I’ve been together since he was born. We go together like grits and gravy.”
Joshua pulled open one big barn door, ushering the young man and his mount in to the shaded interior. “You’re welcome to put him up in one of the stalls, or turn him out.” He indicated the stalls with an upturned hand.
Clayton walked the horse to one of the stalls standing open near the front of the barn, slipping the ornate black bridle over the animal’s head and replacing it with a simple rope halter, then he turned and began unbuckling the saddle.
“He’s a good looking horse, I’ll have to say. A stud I see. What breed is he? He’s got the look of a mustang but is bigger and more rounded.”
“He’s a Cracker horse sir.” The young man replied, his voice resonating with pride. “Bred and raised right there back home. He’s a pretty easy soul to work with but he does like the ladies.” He added with a wink.
“Florida Cracker horses descended from the horses the Spanish left behind when they gave up the place. We cow hunters just sorta’ picked ‘em up over time and through some careful breeding some families ended up with really fine stock like Duke here.”
“Why, where I’m from the Parton’s and the Bronson’s are both well known for their Florida horses.” For a moment the punchers face clouded, but then it passed and he smiled again, swinging the heavy saddle up onto the railing beside the stall. “I sure was glad to be able to keep ol’ Duke when I left.”
“Son, why do you call them cow hunters down in Florida instead of cowpokes like we use out west here?” Joshua was curious about the strange terminology and wasn't afraid to ask.
“Most folk actually call us Crackers sir, just like our horses. The name comes from the cracking sound of our whips we use instead of lariats."
To illustrate he pulled the coil from his belt and gave it soft crack. The black horse perked its ears and nickered.
"Florida is so full of scrub and thick undergrowth that it’s harder than blue blazes to get a rope on a cow but you can drive ‘em easy enough using this bit of equipment.” He tapped the whip as he recoiled the long strand and fastened it on his saddle.
“Hm.”
Joshua pondered the strange item. He’d only seen whips used by skinners and buggy drivers so the thought of using a whip to drive cattle was foreign to him. “I look forward to seeing how that works in the future.” He said true interest evident in his voice.
“I reckon we’d best get back up to the house now though if you’re done…” He let his words taper out as the young man nodded, hefting his thick saddlebags over his shoulder and turned toward the house.
Clayton once more followed the tall white haired man into the house, pausing just long enough by the front door to place his hat on a peg, and drop his heavy saddlebags with a clink. He smiled as Mr. James’ eyebrows rose in question, but offered no explanation.
They walked along the narrow hall drawing closer to the sound of voices. Entering the kitchen Clayton stopped dead in his tracks by the level of noise that engulfed the room. To his left the two long tables, now heaped with food, were filled by aging men and the James’ girls, while on his right Mrs. Bianca and a wiry, bow legged Chinese man hefted platters and coffee pot. The noise level was like being in a hurricane. To Clayton it seemed that everyone was talking, laughing, or grouching all at the same time.
Joshua stood studying the young man as he tried to take in the melee of a lunchtime meal at the Broken J. On his spread each man, woman and child ate at his table and he knew from watching his two new sons-in-law struggle to deal with what was normal fare for him that it could be rather overwhelming.
Chuckling he placed a hand on the young man’s shoulders and pushed him along.
“Alright you bunch of hooligan!” the tall older man’s booming voice brought the conversations to a halt. “I’d like to introduce you to our new hand. This here is Clayton Allen. He hails from Florida but I’m sure you will all do your level best to make him feel at home here on the Broken J.”
Around the tables heads nodded, and smiles were offered. “I thought as it’s so hard to figure out who’s who around this place I’d have everyone introduce themselves before we say grace.” He tipped his head toward the young man he’d pointed out as his son-in-law earlier who sat on the left side of the table next to woman called Katie.