Chapter One
Marjorie
I’m happy to be doing this. She’s my best friend.
I repeated the mantra to myself as I tore romaine lettuce for a Caesar salad. Again as I mashed potatoes, adding cheddar, sour cream, and crumbled bacon. Again as I carefully spooned the mixture back into the potato skins and placed them in the oven. And once again as I salted and peppered the round steak, preparing it for the skillet.
I loved to cook. As much as I’d tried to fit in around the ranch that was a quarter mine, I’d finally admitted it. My brothers had control. Joe loved tending to the cattle. Talon was king of the orchard. Ryan made the vineyards sing while creating perfection in a wine bottle.
I wasn’t needed on the ranch. I’d have taken off to Paris to study but for my best friend in the world, Jade Roberts Steel, my new sister-in-law. According to my other new sister-in-law, Dr. Melanie Carmichael Steel, Jade was experiencing hyperemesis gravidarum, a fancy name for really bad morning sickness—the kind that incapacitates a pregnant woman.
Not fun.
Add to the ingredients that Jade and Talon had just adopted two troubled little boys, ages ten and seven, and that their housekeeper, Felicia, had gone on an extended leave to help her ailing mother. Mix well, and what do you get?
Auntie Marj to the rescue.
I was happy to help. Truly, I was.
Jade was the best friend a woman could ask for and had been there for me more times than I could count. And Talon was my brother—my brother who had been to hell and back, largely because of me.
It’s not your fault, Sis. No one blames you.
Words all three of my brothers had drummed into my head.
They were right. I knew that. I couldn’t help being conceived. Being born. It hadn’t been my choice.
Still, the fact remained.
But for my conception and birth, Talon wouldn’t have been taken. Wouldn’t have been beaten, tortured, and worse as a ten-year-old child.
I bit my lower lip and opened the door to the refrigerator. The cool air always helped, for some reason. When I found myself strolling down this ugly path, a chill on my skin reminded me not to go there.
Melanie had initially suggested a rubber band around my wrist. I was supposed to pull on it and sting myself when I had these unwanted thoughts. Problem was, the thoughts had been so overwhelming that I’d ended up with a swollen and bloody wrist that was still a little tender to the touch.
Since I spent so much time in the kitchen, Melanie then suggested a whiff of cold air. It helped.
A little.
At least it didn’t lead to self-mutilation.
I laughed aloud.
Self-mutilation.
Mel—I was the only one who called her Mel—knew my horrible secret. She’d apologized profusely about the rubber band idea once I’d told her. I’d sworn her to secrecy, and as a therapist, I knew she’d never give me up.
Even Jade didn’t know…and I told Jade everything.
Almost.
Anyway, Mel had offered free therapy, guided hypnosis, anything in her arsenal to help me deal with everything my family had been through, but I wasn’t ready.
Not yet.
Not while Jade needed me to be strong while she was struggling.
I couldn’t crumble. Jade had always been there for me, and I’d be there for her now.
“Hey, Auntie Marj.”
Donny, one of my new nephews, scurried into the kitchen. He was a beautiful little thing with blond hair and green eyes, so different from all of us Steels. We were all dark-haired and dark-eyed. Of course, he was now a Steel. Or he would be, as soon as the adoption was finalized, which was supposed to happen within a month. Donny was more talkative than his older brother, Dale. Poor Dale had taken the brunt of the abuse to spare his little brother, and he had a lot to work through. They both did.
But Donny could always put a smile on my face. Despite being imprisoned and horridly abused for several months, he was a happy kid. At least he seemed so to me.
“Hi, sweetie.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Supper will be ready in a half hour.”
“Where’s my dad?”
“He’s on his way.”
“And Miss Jade?”
Donny had taken to calling Talon Dad easily. He’d grown up without a father. Calling Jade Mom was coming more slowly. Dale and Donny’s biological mother, Cheri Robertson, had committed suicide after her boys were taken, though the boys didn’t know that yet. Talon and Jade had told them she’d died in a car accident.
“She’s in bed.”
“Throwing up again?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“That baby in her