Stand-In Mom Page 9

  The small section reserved for Baby Items was woefully understocked. She picked up a box of dry formula, then put it back. It wasn’t what she wanted. She thought of the pantry at Shayne’s. Sydney must have cleared out the store’s supply, even though there hadn’t been all that much. “Don’t you people have babies out here?”

  There was something almost stirring about the woman when she was trying to suppress her annoyance, he thought. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but I didn’t until last night.”

  The soft, indolent smile that she’d noticed yesterday at the airport had made a comeback. Looking at him, Marta decided that he’d gotten over his grief rather quickly. Obviously, the man healed fast, but that wasn’t any of her business one way or another. She’d volunteered to help, mainly because she felt the baby deserved a fighting chance to survive within this new set of circumstances. Roving bachelors usually didn’t have many child-rearing skills.

  And she’d volunteered because he’d gotten to her, she had to admit. Gotten to her by being so adamant about keeping his word to a woman who could no longer take him to task for breaking it.

  That had to mean something in the scheme of things.

  Sydney had offered to give Ike some of her things, but he’d demurred, saying he could get what he needed from the general store. Obviously the man was possessed of an optimistic streak that was completely baseless.

  If he was serious about raising Celine, he was going to need a myriad of things: clothes, food, furnishings. Frustrated, she turned from the pitiful selection. “Where did Sydney get her things?”

  “Anchorage.” He’d even accompanied her on several trips to help her carry the various purchases when Shayne was busy at the clinic.

  Anchorage. Reachable only by plane. Her stomach lurched and knotted at the very thought. But the problem went beyond her own reluctance to fly. They needed a pilot. “And she and Shayne are the only pilots?”

  He should never have put off the lessons, he thought. Ike nodded, following her down the next aisle. “Except when Kellogg’s son Jeb comes to visit. But that’s not very often these days.”

  Marta stopped abruptly. The next aisle had a minuscule selection of pails, mops and cleaning products. No more baby products. The store could definitely stand an overhaul.

  “Small wonder,” she murmured. Given a choice, she wouldn’t voluntarily come out here, either. “Well, if you’re going to be a functioning uncle, we need to get to Anchorage.” She looked down at the only items she’d chosen: the last two packages of disposable diapers. Only one was infant-size. The second was the next size up. That meant they were going to be using a lot of extra tape. “There’s not enough here to keep her in diapers through the week.”

  Her offhand remark was jarring. He looked down at the two large packages. Together, that added up to a lot of diapers. “They go through that many?”

  The naive question made her smile. Walking up to the counter, she placed both packages down and stepped back so that he could pay. “You really don’t know anything about babies, do you?”

  He tried to reach for his wallet, only to realize that it was on the wrong side. He looked at Marta with an unspoken request. With a sigh, she reached into his pocket for him. He smiled as her hand slid in and extracted the wallet.

  “Only that half of them grow up to be beautiful women. You’ve got a light touch.”

  “It can be heavy when it has to be.” Marta dropped the wallet on the counter. “As for the charm, save it for somebody who can appreciate it.” Her voice was clipped, impersonal. “I’m only here to help.”

  Fishing out several bills, he handed them to the storekeeper. Kellogg appeared to be stoically oblivious to the conversation that was going on. “And you can’t appreciate a compliment?”

  Marta’s eyes met his, purposely ignoring the warm sensation they generated as they returned her gaze. “I appreciate sincerity.”

  Ike saw no conflict. “Compliments can be sincere.” He accepted the change Kellogg gave him, pocketed it along with the wallet, then picked up the first package.

  Rather than watch him struggle trying to juggle the two, Marta picked up the second package and led the way out of the store. “Not if the compliments are coming from a man who can spout them like a spigot that’s been left turned on.” His car was parked right outside the store. She waited as he opened the trunk, then tossed the diapers in. “You’re going to have to make a run to Anchorage. There’s no way around it.”

  He slammed the trunk shut. “Is that an editorial ‘you’?”

  Because of his injured hand, he’d had her drive to the store. She waited as he unlocked the door on the driver’s side. “Meaning?”

  He rounded the hood to the passenger side and got in. “That you’re going to come with me, right?”

  Sliding in behind the wheel, she buckled up, avoiding looking at his face. But somehow she could still tell that Ike was smiling. And that smile somehow managed to seep into her being.

  “You don’t need me to hold your hand.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion. Um, would you mind?” He looked down at the seat belt.

  With a sigh, she reached over and pulled the belt around him, a little too aware of how close her hand brushed as she brought the belt around to the slot.

  “Thanks. As for Anchorage, I’d like you to show me what I need.”

  Hands on the wheel, she looked at him. “You’re that helpless?”

  The expression on his face was pure innocence. Or as innocent as someone like Ike could be. “Yes.”

  Of course she could say no. After all, it was just a ploy. But then she thought of the tiny baby they’d left with Sydney. She sighed. Turning the key, she started up the engine.

  “I guess there’s something to be said for a man who’s honest enough to admit his shortcomings.”

  Ike leaned back, satisfied he’d accomplished what he set out to do. “Darlin’, someday you’ll learn that I am always honest.”

  She glanced in her rearview mirror, then almost laughed at herself for doing it. Traffic here meant another car somewhere in the same general vicinity. She pulled away from the curb. “There aren’t enough somedays in an eternity for that to happen.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to turn him down, to tell Ike that she could give him a list to take with him. But she knew that wouldn’t be enough. Things would occur to her once she was in the baby department. Things that probably wouldn’t occur to him if he went by himself. Or even with Shayne. She didn’t like the idea of having to fly again so soon after her last experience, but there didn’t seem to be a way around it. Not if her conscience was to remain clear.

  He could see the mental battle going on and decided to tip the scales. “For Celine?”

  “Only for Celine,” Marta underscored, then capitulated. “All right, let’s go ask Shayne if he’s free for a couple of hours.”

  With his one free arm, he embraced her, surprising Marta. “On behalf of Celine, I thank you.”

  The kiss he brushed against her cheek came as a complete shock. Not because he kissed her—that she would have expected—but because he’d kissed her cheek instead of her lips. They were stopped at one of the three lights in town. And even if they hadn’t been, there was precious little chance of her hitting man, beast or car even if she were driving. She would have expected Ike to take full advantage of the situation. That he didn’t left her confused and bewildered. Unable to affix a proper label to him, she pushed the incident aside, choosing not to think about it. She wasn’t in the mood for riddles.

  Instead, she hid behind a resigned sigh. “Might as well get this over with as soon as possible.”

  “Not quite that soon,” he told her. The smile faded just a little. “There’s someplace I have to go first.”

  There was something in his tone that made her look at him sharply. “Where?”

  Ike thought of being evasive, then saw no point. “Fairbanks.” He’d already spoken to Shayne about
it. He wanted to see where Junie had lived these last few months. He owed it to her.

  Marta felt her heart wrench at the look in his eyes. She heard herself saying, “I’m coming with you,” and had no idea why, except perhaps that she never liked seeing anyone in pain. And it was suddenly apparent to her that he still was. She hadn’t a clue what to do about it, but knew she had to be there with him.

  Chapter Eight

  The small, one-room apartment in Fairbanks was almost stark. Its orientation barred the attendance of any sunlight, casting a pall within its confines. It was as if it, too, was in mourning, Ike thought, looking around slowly.

  This was where Junie had lived, where she had made plans for her baby and kept herself hidden from him.

  Almost in a trance, Ike moved about the apartment, trying to feel his sister, to get a sense of something that had resided here other than despair. If there had been something else, it eluded him.

  The landlord who had allowed him this last glimpse into Junie’s world was standing out in the hall, waiting. Shayne had used the pretext of looking up an old friend from medical school to allow him this time alone. Only Marta had stubbornly insisted on coming inside. She stood off to the side now, silent for once.

  “I should have done more,” he said to himself under his breath.

  Marta had thought that herself when he’d first mentioned his sister, had accused him of not caring and lumped him together with all the people who hadn’t cared in her own life. But looking at him now told her she’d been wrong. He did care—a great deal. And he was torturing himself.

  “And done what?” she asked softly.

  Ike turned around, surprised by the sound of her voice. He’d forgotten for a moment that she was here, too, having planted herself in his wake. She was standing in the shadows that the room embraced so eagerly. He shrugged, helpless and fighting not to be overwhelmed. “Something. Brought her back.”

  “Dragging her by her hair?” He looked at her sharply. Marta approached him slowly, the way she would have a wounded animal. Because he was wounded. “She made her choice,” she pointed out gently.

  “She was eighteen when she left.” The self-accusation throbbed in his voice. “At eighteen, you don’t understand the choices.”

  “But you struggle to try. That’s how you learn. You couldn’t live her life for her.”

  Ike fought to keep the tears back. They wouldn’t do Junie any good now. He dismissed Marta’s words. “I could have protected her.”

  Moving solely on instinct, she laid her hand on his arm. “She didn’t want your protection. And it wouldn’t have counted unless she tried to protect herself.” She’d learned that herself, the hard way.

  Ike waved her words away with a vague hand. And then he saw the lone framed photograph standing forlornly on the table—a broken-down kitchen table whose only company was a mismatched pair of chairs on either side. His throat closed as he reached for it. The photograph was of the two of them, taken the day he’d graduated from high school. Junie was laughing. He remembered saying something to tease her just before the photograph was taken. It was his favorite one of the two of them.

  Standing beside him, Marta looked down at it. “She was very beautiful.”

  “Yes,” he said quietly, “she was.”

  There was little else in the apartment. A handful of clothes hanging in the closet, clothes he recognized. Junie hadn’t even bought herself anything new in the three years she’d been gone. Beyond that, there was nothing, no knickknacks, no signs of the bright young woman she’d been on her way to becoming. She’d traded all that for the promise of things that never came to be.

  If he had Roy in front of him right now—Celine’s father or not—he would kill him, Ike thought.

  The landlord, a heavyset, bald man, poked his head in. “You about through in here?”

  Ike picked up the photograph again. “Yeah, we’re through.” He walked past the other man.

  Slightly befuddled, the landlord looked after him. “What do you want me to do with her things?”

  Ike didn’t even pause. His fingers tightened around the frame. “Give them to charity. I have all that I want.”

  With a shake of his head, Shayne looked at all the purchases Ike and Marta were unloading from the taxi they’d used to get to Fairbanks Airport’s airfield. It was several hours later. After Ike had left Junie’s apartment, Marta had insisted they go straight to the department stores and shop for Celine. He had a hunch she thought of it as therapy. Shayne hoped that there was enough room in the cargo hold.

  “And I thought Sydney was bad when she came home from her last shopping spree.” He began loading the bags while Ike paid the driver. “You look like you cleared out half the stores in Fairbanks.”

  “Just the essentials,” Marta replied.

  “Any more ‘essentials,’” Shayne commented, contemplating the infant seat Marta had just taken out of the taxi’s trunk, “and we might have had to hire a cargo plane to make the flight back to Hades with us.”

  Pocketing his change, Ike went to help finish unloading the trunk. He was silently grateful that Marta had taken charge the way she had, allowing him no time to think about what he’d just seen. It was all he could do just to keep up with her. He grinned to himself. The woman had been like a heat-seeking missile, maneuvering from one counter to another, one store to the next.

  “Already done. There’s furniture flying in in a couple of days.” Ike shook his head. “There’s no holding the lady back once she gets started.”

  He glanced in Marta’s direction. Ike couldn’t help wondering if the same thing was true in all other facets in her life. Was she this enthusiastic, this unbridled when she made love with a man? When she finally let her reserve drop away and gave herself freely? It was something he knew he would really enjoy discovering firsthand.

  “Move out of the way,” Marta told Ike, elbowing him aside, away from the cargo hold. “I can do this faster with my own two hands.”

  Ike grinned, stepping back. At least she wasn’t the type who expected to be waited on hand and foot. He rather liked her independent nature. It was a pleasant change from a lot of women he knew. It just needed a little fine tuning. “Really like having your way with things, don’t you?”

  She wasn’t sure what he was implying. “Like has nothing to do with it. It’s just more efficient my way, that’s all.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ike exchanged looks with Shayne over Marta’s head. The latter looked amused, turning away when Marta glanced in his direction. Using his one good hand, Ike picked up one of the sacks containing the formula that Shayne had recommended. “Whatever you say.”

  “So, how’s my girl?” Ike asked, walking into the house. Determined to put everything he’d seen in the small apartment in Fairbanks behind him, Ike looked around for Celine. His free arm laced with shopping bag loops, he made his way into the living room before depositing them on the sofa. Bags sagged against one another, sighing and spilling their contents.

  “I’m fine,” Sara piped up. “So’s Celine. I took good care of her, didn’t I, Mommy?”

  “The best,” Sydney agreed. With effort, she raised herself up from her seat.

  “And I appreciate that.” Ike produced a toy, handing it to the little girl. “And I brought you something to thank you.”

  Surprised, Marta wondered when he had had a chance to purchase the small stuffed cat. To her recollection, they had done all the shopping together. Ike’s eyes met hers and he smiled, as if reading her thoughts.

  “Ooh, thank you.” Sara hugged the toy to her. “I’ll call it Ike.”

  “Better not,” he cautioned. He tugged on the pink pants the cat was wearing. “It’s a girl.”

  “Oh.” Sara giggled over her mistake. “Just like Taffy,” she said, referring to the cat Sydney had given her the first Christmas they had shared.

  “And how’s my other girl?” he asked, turning toward Sydney.

  “If you mean Celine, she
’s asleep. I just put her down ten minutes ago.”

  “She’s using the baby’s new crib,” Sara told him importantly.

  “Breaking it in, is she?” Sara nodded vigorously. “Let’s go see her.”

  Marta watched him take Sara’s hand and hurry up the stairs with the little girl. She had to admit, his eagerness surprised her.

  “He’s going to make a good father,” Sydney said to Shayne.

  Shayne nodded. “I never pictured him in that role, but I think you’re right. Good thing for Celine. Wait until you see the furniture he’s having shipped for her.”

  “I just hope they don’t—” Sydney didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. The baby was crying. “They did.” She looked reluctantly at the stairs. “Well, he’s not going to be able to pick her up out of the crib with that hand. And I don’t think Sara should try—”

  Shayne put his hand on her arm, stopping her. “Stay. I’ll go up.”

  “You both stay,” Marta instructed. She took the stairs two at a time.

  “I used to have energy like that,” she heard Sydney say wistfully.

  “Don’t worry,” Shayne told her. “It’ll all come back to you.” He saw the questioning look in his wife’s eyes and understood. He nodded. “He’s going to be all right.”

  Sydney let out a sigh of relief.

  Witnessing the silent communication between them, a feeling of envy wafted over Marta again even though she tried to bank it down. Envy at what Sydney had and what she was certain she would never have. Love, a home, a family. She’d thought she was on the verge once with Alex, but that had turned into a disaster. She wasn’t willing to risk her heart again, even for a prize as grand as what Sydney had. Sydney was lucky. But good men were hard to find and Marta didn’t feel particularly lucky. She’d never been, there was no reason to start believing that anything had changed now.