by Holly Jacobs
“I still don’t understand.” Ian seemed confused and almost angry that she was offering to help.
“Wrong answer too,” Allie said gently. She reached over and touched Ian’s shoulder. “Didn’t anyone ever do something for you just to be nice?”
It wasn’t meant to be a difficult question, but for Ian it obviously was. Allie watched as he lost himself in thought. “No.”
“Well, then it’s about time someone started.” She gave his hand a little squeeze. “Now, about tomorrow . . .”
“You’re not going to let up, are you?” There was that hint of a smile again.
“Nope.” Her face crinkled in delight. “I have a reputation for being tenacious, so you might as well give up gracefully.”
With mocking good humor, Ian nodded. “Yes, thank you, Allie, I can make that work.”
She chuckled. “Well, then it looks like we have a plan.”
Ian’s face became suddenly serious. “Thank you.”
Allie tried to echo his expression, but her smile kept creeping through. “It’s not that big a deal, but you’re welcome.”
“I think it’s a bigger deal than you know,” she thought she heard him say, but maybe she was mistaken, because in the next second he said, “Okay, about this baby’s feedings.”
She went over her instructions. Ian listened with quiet attentiveness.
“And, Ian?”
“Yes?”
“About that lady on the street. I just want you to know that I’m beginning to understand that you’re not the type to depend on anyone. I’m not looking for anything in return, and I promise to butt right back out of your life as soon as Anne’s out of the hospital, but until then, I’ll try not to intrude more than I have to.”
She felt herself blushing as she continued, “And I want you to know, I’m not using this situation to . . .” She searched for the right word. “Well, I’ll just tell you up front that I’m not looking for any men in my life. I’m not trying to use Ryane to get close to you. When this is over, if you’re interested in being friends, I’d be happy to oblige. I can use all the friends I can get. But, if not, then we’ll just shake hands and go back to nodding at each other in the hall.”
“Feel better?” he asked.
“I just want things clear up front. I’ve had problems with misunderstandings in the past and would rather avoid them with you if I could.”
“Fine.” He gathered up the baby and left. He seemed mad, but Allie couldn’t decide why he would be. Maybe he was still put out at having to accept her help.
Well, he’d have to get over it. Allie wasn’t backing down. Why it was so important to ease Ian’s burden, she didn’t know.
But it was, and she was going to do all she could to help him.
CHAPTER THREE
“Hello,” Allie called as she entered the room. “I’m Alexandra McGraw. Allie to my friends and—”
“You’re Ian’s neighbor, the one who is helping with Ryane.”
Ian’s Anne was beautiful. Even lying in the hospital bed, one leg in traction, she was beautiful. Blond hair, blue eyes, and porcelain frailness. But in those blue eyes, Allie could see a will of iron.
Anne smiled and looked even more beautiful, if that was possible. She definitely wore the blue hospital gown with far more finesse than Allie had ever managed.
She walked into the room and next to the bed. “I just thought I’d stop in and see if there’s anything you need.”
“Can you stay a minute?”
“Sure.” Allie pulled a chair over and sat down. “So, how are you feeling?” She glanced at the hardware on Anne’s bed and smiled. “I mean, all things considered?”
“Well, I’ll feel better after they do the surgery on Monday.”
“I’m sure you will, and Ryane will feel better when this is all over and you’re home, but until then, I just want you to know that Ian and I have everything under control. I know it’s hard not to worry.”
“Not being with her is the hardest part of all this. I mean, she’s so young.”
“You’ll be home in a couple weeks . . .”
“And how am I going to care for her then? I mean, I’ll be on crutches.” Anne sniffled and tears glittered on the edges of her eyes. “I never cry,” she said as she began to do just that.
Allie walked over to the nightstand and handed Anne one of the tissues. “Now, you can cry all you want, you deserve to. But I promise you, we’ll think of something.”
“Why are you so worried? I mean, Ian said he can’t figure out if you have a martyr syndrome or you’re a saint.”
“Geesh, both you and Ian? Well, like I told him, sometimes you can’t make it on your own and need help. And it just so happens that I’m in the position to help, so maybe you should just let me.”
“I still don’t understand,” Anne said, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Tell you what, I’ll give you a hand, and someday you can help someone else out who needs it. Maybe then you’ll see it’s the way things are supposed to be done.”
“You’re something else, Allie.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” Allie said, bitter humor in her voice.
A nurse bustled into the room and glanced at Allie. “Oh, it’s you,” she muttered.
“I don’t believe we’ve met?” Allie said, purposely ignoring the woman’s less-than-cordial attitude.
“And I don’t believe we want to,” the woman said. “Aren’t you supposed to be on maternity?”
Allie tried to convince herself that she wasn’t hurt, but it didn’t work very well. Trying not to let it show, she merely said, “Yes, but I need to talk to Ms. Paulson’s doctor. She’s a breastfeeding mother and I know she’ll be in here a while longer, but I think, with some effort, she should be able to nurse her baby when she comes home.”
“And you want me to do what?” the woman asked, brusque to the point of rudeness.
Allie took a deep breath and counted to ten. She glanced at the woman’s badge. “Well, Mary, I’d very much like you to attach a note to Ms. Paulson’s chart and ask the doctor to call me at his earliest convenience.”
Mary sniffed, nodded once, and left the room.
“I don’t think finding me here made a friend for you out of Little Mary Sunshine there,” Allie said to Anne.
“What’s her problem?” Anne asked.
“Me.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing to her, just an unwise decision on my part.” Anne had questions in her eyes. Allie sank back to the chair and shrugged. “But it’s a long story. Now, about keeping your milk supply up until you’re out of here. If you . . .”
She launched into a detailed plan. “It will give you something to do at least,” she said with a laugh when she was done explaining about breast pumps and schedules.
“It will make me feel like I’m doing something for Ryane, even though I’m not there.”
Allie reached over and squeezed Anne’s hand. “You’ll be there soon enough. Until you’re there, Ian and I are having a blast spoiling Ryane rotten.”
Anne squeezed Allie’s hand back. “About Little Mary Sunshine, if you want to talk . . .” She left the offer hanging between them.
“Thanks,” Allie said. “I don’t think it will make much difference, but I appreciate the offer.” She rose. “I’ll come back down soon and check on you. And do ask your doctor to call me. If he writes the orders, the nurses will help you pump Monday after the surgery. And they should be able to get an electric breast pump down here from maternity. With the meds you’re on, Ryane should be able to use most of it, no problem.”
“Allie?”
“Hm?” she said, half out the door.
“Thanks. I might not understand why you’re involved, but I don’t know what all three
of us would have done without you.”
“Anytime,” Allie said.
Ian and Anne were so used to being self-sufficient. Where had they come from that someone offering a helping hand was so unusual? None of the possibilities that occurred to her made her feel any better, and Allie decided that at least this once both Anne and Ian would learn a bit about giving with no strings attached.
Nurse Mary Sunshine glared at Allie. As she sped by the nurses’ station, the woman leaned over to whisper to the two other nurses with her.
Well, that was fine. Allie had never worried what other people thought of her, and she wasn’t about to start now.
It didn’t bother her at all.
The tears that were begging to be released were all for Ian and Anne. She wouldn’t allow herself to indulge in self-pity, and in the end she didn’t have time. Three mothers in labor appeared on the floor almost simultaneously and Allie spent her afternoon assisting at one of the births—a ten-pound, three-ounce boy who looked like he was born to hold a football—and then working with their new mothers.
Even as she drove home and her confrontation with Bloody Mary came back to her, Allie didn’t have the energy to worry about it. She knew she’d done nothing wrong, and that was all that mattered.
At least that’s what she tried to tell herself.
“Ryane, Ryane went to town, but forgot to wear her gown. Wore her jeans and shirt instead, found a guy and knocked him dead,” Allie sang.
The baby burped in her ear.
“Always a critic.” Allie laughed. She put the baby in her infant seat and set her on the table. “Now, I’m not much for cooking, actually I hate it, but I do make excellent soups. The trick is,” she leaned closer to the baby and in a stage whisper said, “Lots of stuff. If you throw enough of this and that in, you’re bound to have a hit.”
“Who are you hitting?” Ian asked as he walked into the room.
“Hey, look who’s here. Uncle Ian’s home.” The baby cooed on cue.
Ian leaned over and kissed Ryane on the cheek. “Now, who’s hitting who?”
“No one’s hitting anyone, we’re making soup.”
“I thought you made soup last night.”
“No, last night I warmed up soup. Tonight I’m making soup. Pasta fagiole, as a matter of fact.” She turned and stirred the pot of simmering beans. “How’s Anne today?”
“Fine. I stayed until she was settled for the night. The surgery is Monday.”
She nodded. “I know. I took the day off already so I can stay with Ryane.”
“Allie,” Ian said, all his arguments and censure wrapped up in just her name.
Allie turned and grinned. “You’re not going to make me yell at you again?”
Ian shook his head and sighed. “I have a feeling it wouldn’t do any good anyway.”
“Nope, not at all,” she assured him.
She tossed some onions she’d been chopping into the beans and started dicing some carrots. “Everything’s going to go smoother than smooth. What are we going to do when she comes home?”
“Allie.” Ian had a warning in his voice.
“Ian,” she replied, her voice imitating his. She tried to imitate his stern expression as well, but failed and burst out laughing instead.
“Aren’t you ever serious?” Ian asked.
Allie looked serious a minute. “Well, now, I think the last time I was serious was when I was twelve and the boys told me that I had to have braces. Yes, I do seem to recall being seriously annoyed and voicing that displeasure even louder than Ryane was last night.”
“Allie, I think I’m going to have to get in touch with your family. Maybe they could give me an idea how to handle you.”
She shook her head and tossed the carrots into the broth. “Nope, not a bit of it. They never could figure me out.” She gave the broth another stir. “Now, I think I might have an idea about what we’re going to do for Anne.”
“Are you always this bossy?”
“No, sometimes I’m worse.” Ian groaned and Allie smiled a syrupy smile. “You can ask my brothers.”
“Brothers?”
“Yep, three.”
“Younger?”
“You’d think, the way I boss them around, but I’m the baby. When Mom and Dad died, the boys took over and pretty much raised me.” She pulled herself up to her full height. “And the boys didn’t raise no sissy. So, you might as well sit back and let me boss, because I’ve had a lot of practice.”
Giving in to the inevitable, Ian sighed. “Okay, so what do you have mind?”
Alexandra McGraw was a woman who knew her own mind. Being raised by three overbearing brothers didn’t leave any room for hesitancy. When she met someone, she either liked them or didn’t. And she liked Ian Ryan, liked him a lot. Just what it was, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the way he held the baby or the pride in his eyes when he talked of his niece. Or maybe it was the care and concern he’d demonstrated for Anne. Or maybe it was the couple of shadows of smiles she’d been able to coax through his stern countenance.
Without any effort at all on his part, he could raise her blood pressure a notch or two, but Allie didn’t want to think about that.
She liked him and that was it. Something told her Ian wasn’t used to having a friend, but he’d just have to get used to it, she was sticking around.
They were talking about Anne, she reminded herself sternly. “Well, let’s wait until the surgery’s done and we have a homecoming date, then we’ll discuss it.”
“Is it going to involve me yelling?” he asked suspiciously.
Allie shook her head. “No, I have a feeling it’s going to involve me yelling, but as I said, I was raised by three brothers, so I’m used to yelling.”
“I still think I may need to look them up. Maybe they could give me some tips on how to handle you.”
“Feel free, but I doubt it. They never could figure it out.” The bread maker dinged. She left the soup bubbling merrily and went to retrieve her loaf of whole wheat bread. “Now, I might not have much to offer, but there’s homemade soup and bread for dinner tonight. Are you and Ryane interested?”
“I was just going to throw a peanut butter sandwich together.”
Allie made a face. “Yuck. My soup’s much better that that.”
“What all is in pasta fagiole?”
“A new experiment. Beans, mainly. Some noodles too. Though it sounds better if you say it in Italian.” She thought a minute. “You know, a lot of food sounds better if you say it in a foreign language. I mean, would you rather eat escargot or snails?”
Ian gave her one of those odd looks that Allie seemed to collect by the pound.
“Let’s not talk about snails, unless you slipped some into the soup?” He looked as if he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t slip them in, given half a chance.
She grinned. “I’m not telling until you’ve tasted it.”
“And if I say I don’t want to take a chance on snails mingling with my beans?”
“I’ll nag,” she assured him.
Ian shook his head and gave her one of those small, rusty smiles. “I thought so. Okay, how about I go change out of this suit and come back down in . . . ?”
Allie peeked in the pot and then glanced at her watch. “About forty-five minutes?”
“We’ll be back,” he said, reaching for Ryane’s baby seat.
Allie shook her head and shooed at him with her hand. “Go change by yourself. Ryane and I were having a conversation.”
He left the seat alone and asked, “What about?”
“Men.” Allie gave him one of her more wicked grins.
“Don’t you corrupt my niece,” Ian warned.
“I’d never dream of it. I’m just making sure she’s well prepared.”
Ian leaned over and kissed the b
aby, and there was a part of Allie that wished he’d lean over and kiss her as well.
Allie pulled herself from fantasies back into the kitchen, where Ian was talking to the baby. “Don’t you listen to her, honey. Men, especially your Uncle Ian, are wonderful creatures.”
“Ha,” Allie scoffed. But as he walked toward the front door, Allie had to admit that Ian did present a wonderful view. She shouldn’t be attracted, but for some reason she was.
Allie McGraw was a woman who never liked businessmen. She preferred her men more relaxed and able to smile. And yet she found herself attracted to the most serious suit she’d ever met. A man who probably didn’t remember what it was like to laugh or to be wild.
It was odd.
It was uncomfortable.
It was just lust, she assured herself as she tamped down the feeling spiraling through her body.
“Well, I must confess, you do have a way with soups,” Ian said, patting his stomach.
“Better than peanut butter and jelly?” Allie asked.
Ian scratched his head. “I guess,” he said in a tone that said he wasn’t sure.
But Allie spotted the twinkle in his eyes that belied the serious expression on his face. “You’re teasing me,” she accused, sure she was right.
“Would I tease you?” Ian asked, again his voice giving no hint to whether or not she was right.
Allie looked close and was sure she was. “I do believe you would.”
“Well, if you say so,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “How about I help with dishes before Ryane and I head upstairs?”
“The dishes are no problem. The beauty of soup is it’s all done in one pot, so cleanup’s a snap.” She started to clear the table.
“Well, it will be even snappier if we both do it.”
Allie shrugged her shoulders. Suddenly the teasing mood evaporated. He picked up a handful of dishes and followed her into the kitchen.
Too close.
He was much too close. Allie opened the dishwasher, started loading it, and breathed a sigh of relief when Ian went back to the table for the rest of the dishes.
