Stand-In Mom

by Marie Ferrarella

  “In here,” he called, careful not to sound winded. Robbed of the chance to savor the aftermath, he still hadn’t caught his breath from making love with Marta. Having to get dressed in under three seconds didn’t help any.

  Shayne stuck his head into the room. He raised his brow. “So you are here. I saw your car in the garage, but I thought when you didn’t answer at first that—” He stopped dead, looking at Ike’s bare feet. His socks were crumpled on the floor, one here, one there, with Ike’s boots lying on their side in between. “Why are your boots off?”

  He was just grateful that he’d managed to get his clothes on in time. Ike said the first thing that came to mind.

  “Rock.” As if to prove that was what he’d been about, he tipped a boot over, shaking it. It would have helped if there’d been something inside to come falling out.

  Shayne looked at him skeptically. “In both boots?”

  Having put his socks back on, Ike began to pull on his boots. He looked completely unfazed, as if he’d just been caught wading in a spring in the middle of summer.

  “So now you’re an expert on rocks and boots, as well as the health and well-being of this tiny, thriving community?”

  Shayne eyed him. He knew that tone, recognized that look. Both telltale signs that Ike had been with a woman. But there was something else, something more. If he didn’t know any better, Shayne would have said that Ike was a little nervous. But that didn’t make sense. Ike was never nervous about his dalliances. They were as natural as the long six-month Alaskan nights.

  Something was up.

  As if in answer to his unspoken question, the door behind Ike opened.

  Shayne didn’t know if he was surprised to see Marta standing there, or if he’d actually been expecting it. In either case, he certainly had something to tell Sydney when he got back.

  Marta had no idea why she felt so nervous. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything awful, or even anything that was anyone’s business but her own. And Ike had even gone out of his way to cover for her.

  Why had he? It seemed unusually gallant.

  The question, for now, was going to have to go unexamined.

  Forcing a breeziness into her expression, she greeted Shayne with a nod before looking at Ike. She was almost grateful for this opportunity to playact. It allowed her to try to pull herself together. She had absolutely no idea what to say to Ike about what had just happened. Whether to ignore it, excuse it, or forbid him to ever mention it to anyone—even her.

  None of the choices included savoring it. Because Marta knew that would be a very fatal mistake on her part. If she savored it, she might make more of it than was meant to be.

  “Well, I put Celine down. I don’t know how long she’ll be asleep.” Hoping he couldn’t hear how hard her heart was hammering, she swept her eyes toward Shayne, offering him a wide, surprised smile. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Shayne merely inclined his head. “I’ll try to be louder next time.” Not sure how successful he was at keeping the grin from his face, he turned away from them and pretended to glance toward the window.

  His other boot on, Ike rose to his feet. He looked at Marta pointedly. “Guess it was just my imagination, darlin’.”

  Confused, wondering if she’d just missed a cue, she could only stare at him. “About what?”

  “About the rock in my boots.” Laughing, he turned toward Shayne to explain. “I started taking them off, and she thought I was getting ready for something else.” There was no need for the wink; his implication was crystal clear.

  Marta didn’t know whether to be indignant at what he was saying, or grateful for the camouflage. It still amazed her that he wasn’t trying to brag in some subtle way about what had just happened.

  “I wouldn’t have the time for that, as lovely as your houseguest is.” He purposely swept his eyes over her slowly.

  Marta could almost feel him touching her, and it took all she had not to let herself react.

  “Not with everything I have to do at the moment,” Ike was saying. He looked at Shayne. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  He’d been sent out as a one-man search party. “People were beginning to wonder where you disappeared to.”

  “We told you that we were coming here to change Celine’s diaper and get some more of her things,” Marta reminded him. “Don’t you remember?”

  Shayne merely shrugged. Sydney had become concerned about them after a while. Sometimes it was less difficult acquiescing to a pregnant woman’s wishes than reasoning with her. “Seemed like a long time to change a diaper, that’s all.”

  Ike began piling the packages of diapers onto the table, preparing them for transport. He kept his back to Shayne. The man read him too damn easily.

  “Well, then Celine was hungry and one thing just led to another,” Ike tossed off carelessly. He glanced at Shayne over his shoulder. “You know how it is.”

  Shayne’s smile widened. “Yes, I know exactly how it is.” As if she knew she was the topic under discussion, Celine began crying in the other room. “Looks like the nap didn’t last very long.” He zipped up his parka. “Well, if everything’s all right, I’ll see you both back at your house.”

  Marta gratefully took that as a cue to leave the room and see to the baby.

  “By the way—” Shayne stopped by Ike, lowering his voice “—your shirt buttons aren’t aligned.” There was laughter in his eyes as he walked out of the room.

  Muttering under his breath, Ike quickly remedied the problem.

  “What did he say?” Marta asked. Drawn by the sound of the front door closing, she returned to the room, holding Celine.

  Ike thought fast. He figured she wouldn’t appreciate learning of Shayne’s keen eyesight. “Just that he thought he heard Alonso say that the electricity would be turned on by nightfall,” he said, referring to Alonso MacTavish, Hades’s one-man utility company.

  She hadn’t thought of that. She’d just assumed that the basic necessities such as water, electricity and telephone were in working order. This was the wrong place to make those kind of assumptions, she reminded herself. “Otherwise what?”

  He went into the kitchen to pack up the cans of formula they’d recently purchased. Marta followed him. “Otherwise, Celine and I either spend the night in the living room in front of a roaring fire the way our pioneering forefathers and foremothers did—” he grinned “—or we spend another night here.”

  Desperately trying to avoid a lull in the conversation that would allow him to redirect it, she asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “Not talk about trivial things right now.” Finished, he closed the cardboard box. “Either way is fine,” he told her, answering her question.

  Ike looked at her, unable to read the message in her eyes. Was she upset because Shayne had come when he did, or was she relieved? Relieved because it gave her an excuse to run from Ike.

  One thing was sure, he’d never had so many questions regarding a woman before. He placed a hand on each of her arms. “About what just happened here, I don’t want you to think—”

  Holding Celine closer, she shrugged and stepped back. “Don’t worry, I’m not. I’m not thinking about it at all.” She walked back into the other room. “And I’m certainly not going to discuss it with you.”

  For a second, he stood in the kitchen, undecided. It was, he supposed, what every man wanted to hear after a casual liaison, even one that had been as passionate as this one had been. That the woman wasn’t interested in dwelling on it and that she was shrugging it off as if it were just another daily occurrence, like answering the telephone or washing the dishes.

  There were a great many men who would have envied him being in this position. But he wasn’t quite sure if he numbered among them. Because beneath everything else was the small, slowly developing feeling that this hadn’t been just a casual liaison. Not for her. And just possibly, not for him.

  But for now, and for simplicity’s sake,
he decided to back away from the subject until he had more time to explore it. And more wits about him. At the moment, he was still just a little fuzzy around the edges about the whole thing. Besides, there was no telling who they’d send next if he and Marta didn’t get back soon.

  With a half shrug, Ike let it pass. “Whatever you say.”

  Whatever you say. He said it so casually, so carelessly. As if it didn’t matter to him one way or another.

  His response just told her that she was right. The sex had been spectacular, but it was just that—sex. There’d been no feelings involved for him other than the normal programmed response. Press button A and B will happen. It meant nothing more to him.

  Now, how did she get it to mean nothing to her?

  “You’ve been avoiding us.”

  Marta looked up from the wall in Ike’s house that she’d been patching. The huge hole in it was now filled with wire and plaster. An enormous amount of plaster. She was still trying to smooth it all out.

  Belatedly, she realized her mistake and lowered her eyes back to the plaster mix. Looking into his eyes was the closest thing to a fatal mistake she’d ever come across.

  The man’s eyes should be listed with the local police department.

  “I’ve been working.”

  Crossing his legs, Ike lowered himself onto the floor beside her. He’d been watching her for the better part of the afternoon after they’d returned, usually with an entire room between them. Telling himself that it was really better this way. To put as much distance between himself and the lady, as well as the “incident,” as possible. The lady didn’t have casual written about her. Making love with Marta meant something beyond just the physical gratification, no matter what she might maintain to the contrary. It was the first step to commitment—to home and hearth and all the trimmings that went along with it.

  The last thing he needed right now was another permanent relationship in his life. He’d already signed on for one that would last the next eighteen years, if not longer. The smartest thing he could do would be to steer clear of Marta Jensen for the remainder of her visit to Hades, and be grateful that she was making things easy for him.

  Wisdom and logic didn’t seem to be making much headway with him today.

  As for making things easy for him, if she were doing that, she wouldn’t be preying on his mind like this all afternoon. Wouldn’t have such an iron grip on his thoughts when there was so much else to commandeer his attention.

  “You’ve been avoiding us,” he repeated. “And frankly, Celine is getting a little hurt by it.” He nodded toward the baby, lying peacefully in her newly purchased layette, while all around her activity hummed like a swarm of summer bees gathering honey.

  “Celine,” Marta repeated, fighting off the urge to smile. Why was she smiling when he’d all but said, Here’re your walking papers? And after shoving the papers into her hands, what did he want from her now?

  He nodded. “You know how women are. Their feelings get hurt real easily.”

  What was it about his voice that sounded so seductive? Knowing everything she did, feeling the way she did, why did she find herself feeling as if she were a package whose wrapping was coming undone because the glue was melting? “And you’re speaking as an expert.”

  Ike grinned. “Bona fide, born and bred.” He watched as she spread yet another layer of plaster on top of the others. There’d be no drafts sneaking in through here, he thought, amused, no matter how cold it was outside.

  “How many women’s feelings have you hurt?”

  She was trying too hard to sound like she didn’t care, and it gave her away. “By last count?” he asked teasingly, playing along.

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “By any count you want, as long as it’s accurate.”

  He reassessed her expression and realized that this was too serious to tease about. “None.”

  Marta was tired of being told that he was close to being fitted for his wings as a saintly lover. “Oh, yes, the fable about the wandering lover with the heart of gold.” Scooping up more plaster on her trowel, she slathered it onto the wall. “Sorry, I forgot about that.”

  “My guess is that what you should concentrate on forgetting about is the guy who hurt you.”

  Angry, she shoved the trowel hard against the wall, smoothing the residue out with a vengeance. “Don’t you have someone else to charm, or some pollen to spread?”

  “I’m afraid I’m all tapped out. I used up my supply for the day.” Because she wouldn’t turn around, he took the trowel out of her hands.

  Sparks all but flew from her eyes as she glared at him. “I need that.”

  He held it just out of her reach. “You’ll get it back once you hear me out.”

  “You might not be aware of it, but it’s impossible to be anywhere around you and not hear you out.” Wrapping what was left of her dignity tightly around her, Marta rose to her feet and dusted her hands off on her jeans. “Maybe you’d like to finish that yourself.”

  With that, she turned on her heel and walked off.

  “If you ask me, the lady just put you in your place, cousin.”

  Feeling out of sorts, Ike didn’t even bother turning around to spare Luc a glance. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling this way. Wasn’t accustomed to not knowing which end was up. Though his easygoing manner belied it, he was always the one in charge, the one who knew exactly where things were headed. Right now, he didn’t have a clue as to which way things were going, or even how he wanted them to go.

  All he knew was that the lady mixed him up something awful.

  “No one asked you.” He turned, thrusting the trowel at him. “Here, make yourself useful.”

  Luc looked at him closely. And then a grin sprouted, growing quickly until it encompassed his genial face. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  He couldn’t quite read the look of sudden awareness in his cousin’s blue eyes. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

  “She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she?”

  Ike’s dark brown eyes narrowed. He didn’t need to be ribbed right now, or to have his rather inexperienced cousin, who had only had one girl in his life, suddenly making judgments on him. “On the other hand, you just might be damned. And in the very near future, too.”

  Luc slapped him on the back, clearly enjoying himself. “I never thought I’d see the day when you couldn’t handle a woman.”

  “And you never will.” Following the path Marta had created before him, Ike walked away.

  Twilight had long since arrived on the scene, ushering in the darkness long before it was due. It made no difference to the people gathered within Ike’s house. They continued what they were about, determined to see it to its conclusion, no matter what the task.

  It amazed Marta how doggedly everyone seemed to work. Doggedly and happily. Good-natured ribbing went right along with serious concentration. And through it all was woven the laughter and sometimes the shrieks of playing children.

  She’d long since decided that communities such as these existed only in books found in the juvenile section of the library. She’d convinced herself while she was growing up and yearning for a place like this, that it was pure fantasy.

  But there were places where fantasy met reality, and this seemed to be one of them.

  She’d observed people going out of their way for one another here. A cynic might have said that they had to, or die in isolation, but Marta could see that there was more to it than that. The people who carved a life for themselves out of this frozen terrain had large, open hearts that reached out to one another. That cared about one another.

  And about strangers.

  “You’re smiling.”

  Startled, Marta realized she’d been caught daydreaming. She turned around to see that Sydney had come up behind her.

  “I would have thought you’d be too exhausted to smile. We worked you pretty hard today.” Sydney had seen Marta join in on no less than three separate projects over th
e course of the day. It gave her hope that Marta might very well become one of them eventually.

  “I don’t mind hard work. I never have.” She sighed, shaking her head as she watched three men working to put the finishing touches on what had been, ten hours ago, a crumbling staircase. “You know, when I was very young, I had this fantasy about being part of a family. About having people who cared about me.” Marta knew she wasn’t saying anything that she hadn’t shared with Sydney before, but somehow she needed to say it now. “Not just fed me and made sure I had clothes on my back, but were there for me when I needed them.”

  But it had only been that—a fantasy. She’d never managed to be placed with a family who had any interest in keeping her past the time they had signed on for. Nobody had wanted her to be part of their family.

  She was getting maudlin, Marta thought, annoyed with herself. That was due in part to Ike. If he hadn’t touched emotions that she’d kept locked away so tightly, the rest might not have broken free.

  She turned to Sydney. “I think I’m beginning to see why you like it so much here. Having good people like this around you is more important that having a three-hundred-channel satellite dish or fifteen different restaurants to choose from in a three-mile radius.”

  Moved, Sydney slipped her arm around Marta’s shoulders. “I don’t know about the fifteen different restaurants, but Rick Sellars and his family have a satellite dish. Reception’s not all that great yet, they tell me, but we’ll get there.” Giving her friend a fond squeeze, she inclined her head against Marta’s. “We haven’t been left behind in the nineteenth century, no matter how much it might seem that way at times.”

  Marta smiled ruefully. “I guess I was just being critical when I first got here because I missed you so much, and subconsciously I just wanted to convince you to come back with me.” She looked down at Sydney’s swollen abdomen, a testimony not just to her physical state, but to her emotional one as well. Sydney loved and was loved. And Marta was happy for her. “As if you ever would.”

  Sydney looked around at all the people she had come to think of as friends. All the people she had come to care about. “Well, if Shayne and the kids wanted to leave, I’d go,” Sydney told her, but there was a touch of reluctance in her voice. “But I have to admit, I’d really miss living here. I think we’ve all put in a very full day. Do you want to come home with us, or stay on? I’m sure that Ike can bring you home if you want to finish something up.”