As they drove, Alys gave him better directions and eventually they passed through a gate onto a much nicer road covered in a layer of gravel. She talked about the road work her brothers and father had done, but he barely registered what she was saying. His brain was overloaded by the sheer size of the farm. It had to have been hundreds of acres in size.
“Are you okay?” Alys asked, probably noticing his pensive expression.
“I didn’t realize you were this wealthy,” he admitted, feeling utterly silly for ever thinking that Alys would be happy with the life he could provide.
“Wealthy?” She laughed. “We’re comfortable, but we’re not wealthy. It costs a fortune to run a farm of this size. A lot of the profit goes back into the land or the machinery or seeds or animals. What’s left goes into savings and taking care of our family.”
“Does Zadie’s family have this much land?” Did Tirade know his wife came from this sort of background? Or had he also misunderstood the definition of farm.
“A little less,” she said. “I think they’re at eight hundred acres or so.”
They rounded a bend in the road, and she happily pointed out a paddock with grazing goats. There was a pond and a field of wildflowers. In the near distance, there were rows and rows of crops, some of them bright green and tall and others low, bushy plants.
“That’s Jack’s house.” She gestured to the bright yellow farmhouse surrounded by tall trees. “He lives there with Polly and their four little ones. Yellow is Polly’s favorite color. See that field there? The one closest to the house? Jack always plants yellow flowers there for her. An entire acre of nothing but beautiful yellow flowers for her to enjoy.”
It was a romantic gesture he would never be able to make. His plans for promotion and eventually commanding his own ship paled in comparison to a two-story farmhouse and an acre of flowers. Would Alys ever truly be happy living in space? How could he possibly compete with this? With fresh air and green grass and all the lovely sounds of nature?
“Go straight through this open gate and then take the first right,” she instructed. “If we were here for a different reason, I would take you down to the orchard and the duck pond. It’s beautiful down there this time of morning.”
She continued to chatter away as he drove, telling him about the crops they grew and the animals they raised. She listed her favorite chicken, cow, pig and barn cat and scowled when talking about the goat that liked to ram her backside and chase her younger brothers. He tried to listen—he really did—but his mind raced a mile a minute with thoughts of how inadequate the life he offered her was.
They crested a hill, and her family’s home came into view. He was taken aback by the brick and wood structure’s size. The wraparound porch was something he had only ever seen in children’s books. There were two big floors with a third smaller one on top. How many bedrooms were there? Seven? Eight? Was this why Alys sometimes called their living room the parlor? Her home must have had more than one place to sit and entertain.
Considering the size of her childhood home, he finally understood why Alys seemed so nonchalant about handling all the chores in their much smaller home. He couldn’t even imagine how much work it had taken for her to keep this house clean and tidy. No wonder she was on her feet eighteen hours a day!
Out in front of the house, there was a white fence. He noticed a buggy and a wagon tethered near it. There were no horses hitched to either one, but still angled his vehicle farther away, not wanting to spook any animals. The last thing he needed to do was cause a commotion.
Before Alys was even out of her seat, two little boys were running across the yard, shouting her name. She scrambled to intercept them, crouching down to hug them both. He secured the vehicle and updated his location with the outpost via his shoulder radio before getting out to join her. By then, two more boys had joined the reunion. The teenagers eyed him warily, and he didn’t blame them. He was a strange man who had chased and collared their sister before taking her away to live on a spaceship.
“Swift.” She grasped his hand and tugged him closer. “These are my brothers. Brandon, Clive, Darby and Davie. Boys, this is my husband, Swift.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.” Brandon was the first to offer his hand.
“I’ve heard so much about you boys from Alys,” he said, shaking the younger man’s hand.
“All good things,” Alys interjected before picking up her youngest brother.
Swift bit back the urge to admonish her for lifting a child when she was pregnant. For one, she was a grown woman who knew her body better than he ever would. Secondly, she hadn’t mentioned whether she wanted to keep their news a secret or share it.
His gaze was drawn to movement on the porch of the house. More relatives emerged, most of them women. He tried not to go straight to risk assessment mode, but it was impossible to ignore years of training and routine. He eyed the house, making note of the entrances and exits visible, and the different vantage points.
“Here.” Alys handed her littlest brother up to him, and he accepted the boy who seemed perfectly happy to be given to a stranger. “Why don’t you tell the boys about the ships you fly?” she suggested before giving his arm a gentle pat and making her way to the porch.
Swift watched her go, torn between rushing after her and giving her space. The little boy—Davie—poked at the insignia embroidered on his uniform and said, “Rainbow?”
He couldn’t help but smile. To a child so young, it probably did look like a rainbow. “Yes, it’s very colorful.”
“What do they mean?” Darby asked, just as curious as his younger brother.
“They tell the story of my time in the service.” He noticed Brandon had a nervous eye turned toward the house and decided he wasn’t going to let Alys get far away from him. As he followed her path, he said, “I earn a yellow bar for every year in service. Green bars are for battles. Red bars are for ki—.” He caught himself before saying kills to a child. “For victories,” he corrected, his attention fixed on Alys who had just been engulfed in a hug by an older woman.
“Our Aunt Jimmie,” Clive explained. “Our mother’s older sister.”
“She’s on the outs with Father. He won’t allow her into the house to see Mother,” Brandon said with clear frustration.
“He won’t let Wendy in either,” Clive said sadly.
“Your sister who is a widow?” Swift clarified, hoping he had all of the siblings straight.
Brandon nodded. “She refused to remarry after her husband died. Father disowned her for disobedience.”
Swift grunted at that. “So, she’s also banished to the porch?”
“Alys will probably be joining them,” Brandon warned.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Swift replied gruffly. Still carrying Davie, he walked to Alys’ side and was introduced to her aunt and her older sister. Wendy’s three children were nearby, watching from behind the porch railing. Their eyes were wide, and he felt bad for intimidating them.
“And this is my brother, Jack.” Alys introduced him to the oldest brother in the family. He was tall and broad-shouldered with the same dark hair as the other siblings, but he wasn’t friendly. He kept his arms crossed and stared down at them from the top step of the porch. Alys ignored him and gestured to the other man. “This is Adam.”