Free Heart Appearances (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 560) by Pamela Griffin Page A

Christmas.”
    “I’ll have Irma call and see if the doctor can come today. You stay in bed and rest. You’re looking a mite pale. I’ll take care of everything.”
    “Oh, Darcy. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re so strong, and lately I feel as if my strength is seeping away. I’ve found it harder and harder to trust God.” The admission was made with shame.
    Darcy gave her friend an encouraging smile. “Well, then, we’ll see what we can do to boost your faith again, shall we?” Like a mother hen, Darcy ushered Charleigh under the sheets and tucked her in. “But for now get some rest. And don’t you worry about a thing, Luv. Darcy has everything under control.”
    She almost believed her bold statement. Keeping the assured look on her face until she closed the door behind her, Darcy prayed, “Oh, Lord, I’m sure going to be needin’ Your help. And help me friend, Charleigh; give her peace. Help her babe to grow strong—”
    The front door banged open. “Where is everybody?” Herbert’s voice sailed up the stairwell. Knowing Herbert, who got into more trouble than Darcy could have believed possible, she was sure some minor injury needed tending to.
    Darcy closed her eyes. “About that peace, Lord,” she muttered, “I sure could be usin’ a dose of it as well.”

Six
    The early October sun did what little it could to warm his back as Brent left the schoolroom. He had no idea what to do about Joel—about half the class, really. With Stewart’s absence and Charleigh bedridden due to strict orders from the doctor, the boys took advantage of Brent. It seemed a day didn’t pass that one of them wasn’t disciplined for infractions inside and outside the classroom.
    Brent rounded the schoolhouse, wondering how to handle the issue. Michael had moved to Lyons’s Refuge with his wife to offer aid as well as reinforcement. Though Charleigh’s father was tenderhearted to the lads, his massive size and gruff voice let them know he wasn’t someone to cross. Yet Brent didn’t want to run to Michael every time one of the boys misbehaved. Surely Brent was man enough to take on nine lads smaller than he?
    Remembering the altercation at the train station with the man who’d accosted Darcy, Brent pressed his lips together. He hadn’t been able to help her. The one brief look the loutish man had tossed his way made it clear he thought Brent lacking in the area of fisticuffs. Not that Brent had desired a fight—quite the opposite. But it stung that a stranger thought him unable to protect and that an elderly woman wielding an umbrella had exhibited more courage than Brent.
    He halted suddenly, spotting Darcy and four boys across the expanse of yard, underneath the shedding oaks. The rakes they’d been using lay propped against the massive trunks, forgotten. All five were cavorting, chasing one another and dumping handfuls of brown, crimson, and yellow leaves on unsuspecting heads.
    Brent sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. Why should it surprise him to see Darcy in such a role, rather than the one she should be adopting—that of overseeing the boys’ chores? As Brent watched, Lance came at her from behind with a pail and showered her head with leaves at the same time Tommy bent to the ground and sprayed her with leaves from the front.
    “Aaaeee,” she squealed, her Cockney coming to the fore. “I’ll see ever’ one o’ you scrubbin’ floors, I will! And that’ll be after ye rake the yard. So ye think ye can get the best o’ Darcy Evans, do you?” Swiftly she changed direction, going after Lance. He shrieked and ran but didn’t get far before she tackled him as if she were a football player and not a woman wearing a dress. They both went laughing and rolling into the only pile of raked leaves—scattering them. Red, yellow, and brown vegetation flew everywhere.
    Shaking his head, Brent closed his eyes.
    “Hey, Guv’ner!” Darcy’s cry sliced through the cool air. Brent