Colton's Surprise Family. Karen Whiddon

his leg. The old man fell, the poker went flying into the bricks with a clatter, and Sharon Colton crumpled to the rug, unconscious.

      Narrowly missing hitting his head on the hearth, Darius let out a bellow of fury and frustration and pain as he climbed toward his feet, starting for his wife.

      After kicking the fireplace tool over to Jeremy, Damien grabbed his father, afraid Darius would start whaling on Sharon with his fists next.

      Instead, as Damien wrapped him in a bear hug, the elder Colton folded up into himself, wrapping his arms around his own middle and rocking. Crying great sobs, he mumbled under his breath to himself, tears streaming down his face, all the while shooting an occasional death glare up at his son.

      Not sure how to take this bizarre behavior, Damien glanced at Jeremy. The teen appeared flabbergasted and shell-shocked. Not good. He needed something to do.

      “Jeremy, check on Sharon.” Barking out the order, he saw his nephew jump. “Make sure she’s breathing.”

      While Jeremy hurried over, Damien slowly let go of his father, who had hunched over and was now making a soft keening sound, like a wounded animal.

      Obviously, he had more going on than a problem with alcohol.

      “She’s breathing,” Jeremy said, checking his stepmother’s pulse. “I think she just fainted.”

      “Okay, good.” Trying to think what to do, Damien fished his cell phone out of his pocket and called his twin brother.

      “Be right there,” Duke said, after Damien explained the situation.

      Darius’s keening grew louder.

      “What’s wrong with him?” Wide-eyed, Jeremy stared at his grandfather. “Is he having a stroke?”

      “I don’t know. He’s having something. Let’s see if we can get Sharon to wake up. I want to make sure she didn’t hit her head or injure herself in any way.”

      As soon as he got close to Sharon, Damien smelled the strong scent of alcohol. “She’s been drinking,” he said flatly.

      “Maybe she and Darius were drinking together.”

      “Maybe.” But in his experience, Darius’s wife did as little as possible with her husband. In fact, she seemed to go out of her way to avoid him. His brothers had already begun taking bets as to how long she could hold out.

      During his time home with Darius, Damien couldn’t blame her. If he were in her shoes, he’d have hightailed it out of Honey Creek a long time ago.

      Maybe she was like him. He took another look at her, still out of it and now snoring peacefully. Maybe she had nowhere else to go and no money of her own to make a new life. As with both his previous wives, Darius had most likely made her sign a prenup, ensuring she got nothing if she left.

      “Hey, guys. What happened?” The tension seemed to dissipate slightly as Duke strode into the room. Ignoring their father, who’d gone silent and appeared to have passed out, he crossed to Damien and Jeremy.

      Briefly, Damien relayed the night’s events, letting Jeremy interject with his story. When they’d finished, Duke shook his head. “You know, Maisie’s been trying to tell me things were getting bad here. I thought she was being her usual melodramatic self.”

      “If Maisie’s been dealing with stuff like this, why the hell is she leaving Jeremy here alone?”

      Duke looked directly at Jeremy. “Have you witnessed this sort of behavior much before now?”

      “No, sir, not this bad. Lot’s of yellin’ and name-callin’. But nothing physical. Not like this at all. Darius hasn’t ever acted so crazy.”

      “He’s drunk,” Damien said. “Not that being soused excused him acting like this, but it sure helps explain it.”

      “How do you know he’s drunk?” Duke asked.

      “Go take a whiff of him. He smells like he’s taken a bath in Scotch.”

      “And Sharon’s drunk, too,” Jeremy added. “But she smells more like wine than hard stuff.”

      “I’ll take your word for it. That’s all the proof I need.” Duke didn’t even bother walking over to Darius. “Will you help me get Sharon to her room?”

      “Sure,” Damien nodded. “But what about him?”

      “We’ll come back and get him next.”

      Once they had both Darius and his wife safely in their separate beds, they all trooped in to the kitchen. Rummaging in the refrigerator, Damien located the jug of apple cider and poured them each a glass.

      “How long has this been going on?” Duke asked, dropping his large frame into a chair.