Wife in the Mail

by Marie Ferrarella

  Mac loftily accepted the reason. He jerked a thumb at the little girl. “This is Sara. She’s my sister.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Sara.” The girl’s hand felt slight and cold in hers. Sydney glanced over her shoulder. She’d already made enough mistakes today. For all she knew, Ben had lied about the children, too. “Are they yours?”

  “We’re ours,” Mac contradicted defiantly.

  The boy had been growing steadily more hostile since their arrival. While Shayne understood that his son had experienced a lot of changes in his life lately, it didn’t excuse his rudeness toward Sydney. It certainly wasn’t making this ordeal any easier.

  “They’re my son and daughter,” he answered, setting her suitcases at the foot of the stairs.

  There was enough tension in the room to fill a sports arena, she thought.

  Sara ran to the door, peering outside. “Is Uncle Ben with you?” she wailed. She turned to look accusingly at her father. “He said he’d be back soon, but that was so long ago.”

  “I told you, he’s not coming back,” her brother said to her, his young face etched with anger. Sydney couldn’t tell if he was angry at Sara for believing, or at Ben for violating that belief. Probably a little bit of both. “He left us, too.”

  Too. The word echoed in the room, hurtful and sharp. Tears sprang to Sara’s eyes as she hugged her doll to her chest.

  Sydney turned to look at Shayne. His lips were pressed together in a single, hard line. She was beginning to see what Shayne had meant about not knowing what to say to children.

  There was a definite challenge here.

  Chapter Four

  The misery in the little girl’s eyes cut through any awkward feelings or decorum. There was no way Sydney could bring herself to ignore an unhappy child. It never occurred to her to even try.

  As Shayne watched, surprised, Sydney dropped down to her knees in front of his daughter. Very gently, she turned the little girl’s face toward her. Making eye contact, she smiled.

  “I don’t think your uncle Ben was thinking about leaving you, Sara. He was just too excited about getting married to realize that he couldn’t keep his promise to you.”

  Sara’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Uncle Ben’s getting married?” She breathed the words in stunned disbelief.

  “No, he’s not,” Mac insisted, elbowing his way between Sydney and his sister.

  Sydney recognized it for what it was: Mac was being protective. For his own reasons, Mac was trying very hard to appear tough, but it was obvious that Sara was his weak spot.

  “Oh, but he is,” Sydney told him patiently. She looked from one child to the other, including them both. “To someone named Lila, wasn’t it?”

  She raised her eyes toward Shayne for confirmation. It cost her to talk about it so cavalierly, as if Ben were some stranger she didn’t know instead of the man she’d come out to marry. But there was a great deal more at stake here than just her own feelings and wounded pride.

  To be a child and feel abandoned had to be the worst of all possible worlds.

  Shayne could only nod as he looked on. How could she look so detached, sharing something that he’d assumed was so painful and humiliating, for the sake of drying the tears of a child who meant nothing to her?

  Maybe she wasn’t nearly as upset about Ben jilting her as she’d earlier let on. In which case, he was being one hell of a fool, allowing himself to be suckered into letting her stay here because he felt guilty over what his brother had done.

  He continued to watch Sydney in silence, trying to make up his mind about her.

  Sara looked at Sydney uncertainly, vacillating between believing her and siding with her brother. “Uncle Ben was whistling when he left the house early this morning. I saw him,” she volunteered, casting a side glance at Mac.

  Sydney nodded. “That was because he was happy.” She touched the little girl’s cheek, affection already taking root. It didn’t take long with her, she mused silently. She’d never met a child she didn’t like. “He didn’t mean to hurt you, Sara. Or you,” she told Mac as she rose to her feet. She rested one hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off. Sydney took it in stride. “And he’ll be back eventually, after his honeymoon.”

  Sara stared at her, frying desperately to understand. “What’s a honeymoon?”

  Something that she’d thought she’d be on very soon. Sydney blocked the thought. This wasn’t about her, it was about two half-orphaned children not feeling as if everyone was leaving them emotionally stranded.

  For their sake, Sydney forced herself to smile. “That’s something a man and woman go on right after they get married.”

  Sara cocked her head, her brows drawing together. “Like a vacation?”

  Trust a child to cut to the heart of it. Sydney loved the way their minds were always working. “Exactly like a vacation. A special kind of vacation for just the two of them.” Sara’s expression told her that, for the time being, the little girl was placated.

  But the look on Mac’s face indicated that he held everything suspect and was far from satisfied. Sydney had a feeling that he was probably more like his father than either one of them was aware of.

  Turning toward Shayne, Sydney saw that he was looking at her as if he were working out a puzzle in his mind. Had she said something wrong, something to offend him?

  But he didn’t look angry, just…unreadable. And if body language was any indication of what he was feeling, he looked as though he was anxious to leave.

  “Maybe you’d better show me where I’ll be staying,” she suggested.

  Habit had him looking at his watch. Shayne frowned, letting his parka sleeve slip back down.

  “Asia will have to do that.” He’d used up more time than he’d realized. But that was because he hadn’t expected to bring Sydney back with him. “I was due at the clinic fifteen minutes ago.” He looked at Mac. “Where’s Asia?”

  Mac merely shrugged carelessly, a bored expression on his face. He didn’t answer.

  His insolence confounded and irritated Shayne, but before he could say anything to his son, Sara quickly volunteered. “She’s in the kitchen.”

  In her own way, Sara was as protective of Mac as he was of her, Sydney noted.

  “Asia.” Shayne raised his voice to make it carry to the rear of the house.

  Was that the housekeeper? Sydney wondered. It didn’t matter, she didn’t want to take the woman away from her work. The less waves she caused, the better she’d feel.

  “That’s all right,” Sydney said, “if you just tell me which room it is—”

  At that moment, a small, older woman walked into the room. She carried herself like a princess, her silver-gray hair falling in two long, perfect braids to her waist. As she approached, Sydney noted that her round face was the color of berries browned by the sun. The eyes belonged to a woman who had seen a great deal of life.

  Her first real native Alaskan. The realization somehow made Sydney feel a little more familiar with her surroundings.

  Eyes as black as midnight looked at Shayne, waiting.

  “Asia, this is Miss Sydney.” He gestured toward her. “She’ll be staying with us for a while. Show her to my brother’s room, please.”

  Mac jumped on the words. “Then he’s not coming back.”

  Sydney thought the triumph in his voice rang hollow. It couldn’t be that Ben was the only one Mac had liked in this awful place he’d found himself transported to, could it? What about his own father?

  “It’s just temporary,” Sydney put in quickly, sparing Shayne an explanation. “I’m kind of stranded right now and your father thought that until I figure out what I’m going to do, I could stay here. Since your uncle is away on his honeymoon, we didn’t think that he’d mind my using the room.”

  Mac eyed her, uncertain as to whether or not he believed what she was saying. “When he comes back, you’ll go?”

  She heard the challenge in his voice. “I’ll have to,” Syd
ney answered simply. “There won’t be any room for me here.”

  Maybe he had made a mistake, Shayne thought, upbraiding himself for his misguided invitation. She certainly didn’t appear to be upset about being left at the proverbial altar. The woman sounded as removed from all this as if she were talking about an article she’d read in the newspaper.

  Well, whether or not it was a mistake, he’d have to deal with it later. Right now, if past performance was any indication, he had a clinic full of patients waiting for him and no one to handle them.

  He glanced at the housekeeper he’d been forced to engage with the children’s arrival. Asia came from a village not far from Hades. He couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t seen her walking into town, trading goods at the general store. There’d always been several of her children in her wake. These days, the stragglers walking behind her were her grandchildren. She’d left their care to someone else to come work for him.

  She wasn’t a very good cook, and an even worse housekeeper, but at least there was someone here with Sara and Mac, which was what really counted.

  “I’ll be back after five, Asia.”

  Because their eyes met, entirely by accident on his part, Shayne nodded at Sydney as he crossed to the front door. A moment later the door closed behind him. He was gone.

  She noted, uncomfortably, that Shayne hadn’t said goodbye to either of his children and that they had made no effort to say anything to him, either. This was a family badly in need of mending.

  “This way, please.”

  The softly spoken words roused her. Turning, Sydney saw that Asia was standing at the foot of the stairs, her expression completely impassive. She was waiting to take her to her new quarters, just as instructed.

  Sydney picked up one of her suitcases and followed. “Coming.” She forced herself to sound cheerful. It took a bit of doing.

  Well, she thought as she followed the small woman up the stairs, she’d wanted a new life. This was certainly new She was reminded of the adage that warned a person to be careful what they wished for.

  “Have you been with Dr. Kerrigan long?” she asked.

  Asia didn’t bother turning around. “Not long.”

  “A month? A year?” she prodded, determined to at least get the woman to talk to her.

  “Between.” Asia went no further in pinpointing which it was.

  She stopped at the second room on the right and gestured toward it. She made no effort to enter it, but merely stood back and waited for Sydney to open the door.

  Why, was something going to spring out at her? At this point, Sydney decided she was braced for anything. Glancing at Asia, she reached for the knob, turned it, then opened the door.

  Asia retreated a moment later, her mission accomplished.

  Leaving the suitcase just inside the doorway, Sydney walked in. There was a stone fireplace on the far side and heavy wooden beams on the ceiling. The same kind of wood that made up the headboard and footboard of the large double bed. The room was as masculine as she would have expected it to be.

  It was also in a state of complete chaos, as if its occupant had left in an extreme hurry.

  As if its occupant had never bothered straightening things out to begin with, Sydney decided. She looked around slowly.

  So, this belonged to the man she was to have married. Well, at least she wouldn’t be faced with a lifetime of having to pick up after him.

  The thought didn’t do much to hearten her. Neither did knowing that, for whatever reason, she’d been made a fool of.

  “Make lemonade, Syd, make lemonade,” she muttered under her breath. It was something her father used to tell her whenever she felt as if she was faced with a horrible situation.

  Sydney took a long, hard look around. She couldn’t stay in a room that looked as though it had endured a lengthy visit from a passing tornado. Making up her mind, she blew out a breath and took off her parka.

  The closet was as bad as the room, she discovered when she went to hang up her parka. What hangers were actually on the rod rather than on the closet floor were hopelessly tangled. Sydney looked around for somewhere to put the parka. Every available surface in the room was covered with clothing, books, papers.

  How did the man ever find anything? She certainly hoped he was a better doctor than he was an organizer, otherwise she pitied his patients.

  “It’s messy.”

  The two-word sentence that came from behind her was hardly audible. Sydney turned to find Sara standing shyly in the doorway. The little girl was watching her every move.

  Her first visitor. “It certainly is. But then, it’s a boy’s room and they tend to be messier than we are.” The shared confidence brought a hint of a smile to Sara’s mouth. Encouraged, Sydney ventured a little farther inside. “Would you like to come in? I think we can find a spot for you.” To prove her point, Sydney quickly moved aside several thick sweaters from the foot of the unmade bed. She patted the cleared space, reinforcing her invitation. “There, how’s that?”

  Sara crossed to the bed. After a moment she hesitantly scooted onto it. Her legs dangled over the side. Sara clutched her doll to her, but she looked pleased by Sydney’s attention. “Okay, I guess.”

  Sydney saw the way Sara looked around the room. There was loneliness in her eyes.

  You’re not the only one who misses him, Sara.

  “There’ll be more places for you to sit later after I clean up,” she promised.

  It was obvious that Sara was struggling to fit this new comer into the scheme of things in this strange place she found herself. “Are you going to be the maid?”

  Sydney laughed softly. She thought about curbing her inclination to ruffle the little girl’s hair, then gave in. The curls felt silky around her fingers as she tousled them.

  “No, I’m just someone who likes things neat.”

  Sara wiggled on the bed, settling in. She didn’t seem to mind having Sydney touch her hair.

  “We had a maid home.” As soon as Sara mentioned home, the corners of her mouth drooped fornlornly. “Her name was Alice. But that was before…before Mama died,” she whispered, fighting back tears.

  Sydney looked down at the hurting little soul perched on the bed. “I’m very sorry about your mother, Sara.” Sitting next to her, Sydney slipped her arm around the girl’s shoulders. It warmed her when the child leaned into her. “Do you know she’s watching you right now?”

  Sara raised her head, looking at her with huge, incredulous eyes. “She is?”

  Sydney nodded solemnly. “Uh-huh. From heaven.” She pointed toward the window. Outside the sky was a picturesque, crystal-clear blue. You couldn’t beat the view here, she thought. “She’s looking down at you right now. And feeling very sad because you’re feeling sad.” The hope that entered Sara’s eyes had Sydney going on. “Do you know, if you shut your eyes real tight and stay very still, you can almost feel her arms around you, giving you a hug like she used to?”

  Sara looked a little skeptical. She was her father’s daughter, all right, Sydney thought, even if she didn’t look a thing like him.

  “How do you know that?” Sara asked slowly.

  “Because my dad’s up there, too.”

  The bond between her father and her had been a strong one. He’d been her mentor and her best friend while she was growing up. An only child, she’d devoted herself to him when he’d become ill even though he’d urged her to go on with her life. When he’d died almost three years ago, she’d been devastated. Sydney supposed that was why she’d been so eager to fall in love when Ken had come into her life. She missed having someone to talk to, someone to share things with.

  But Ken had proven unequal to the position—and unworthy of her heart. As for Ben…

  Well, they just didn’t make men like her father anymore. Attributes such as honesty and kindness appeared to be in short supply these days.

  But even if they were in abundance, she was off the market, this time for good.

 
“And sometimes, when I feel very lonely and really, really miss him, I shut my eyes and remember how safe I felt when he hugged me. And then I can feel him doing it. Why don’t you try it?” Sydney urged. She knew that when a child believed hard enough, anything was possible. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  Sara took a deep breath, still a little uncertain. “I don’t know.”

  “Why are you lying to her?” Mac barged into the room, glaring at Sydney accusingly, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “Why are you making up stories? Who told you you could lie to my sister?”

  The intense verbal attack, coming from someone so young, took Sydney by surprise. But she’d learned to bounce back quickly around children no matter what they said. It was important to not lose newly won ground.

  Instead of answering Mac, she looked at Sara. “I see you have a white knight, Sara.”

  Sara looked around, expecting to see someone else in the room. “I do?”

  “Yes.” Sydney gestured toward the scowling boy. “White knights go around protecting ladies, and it looks like Mac is your white knight, ready to do anyone in who messes with his sister.”

  “I am not a white knight,” he protested.

  Sydney noted that his protest was not quite as vehemently voiced as it could have been. Apparently he didn’t find the image nearly as reprehensible as he was pretending. She’d work with that.

  “Oh, but I think you are, and it’s very nice of you, to want to protect your sister like that.” She rose from the bed. The room wasn’t going to clean itself and she was going to need all the time and energy she could muster. “But you don’t have to worry. I wasn’t lying to her. Your mother is watching over her. And you.”

  His eyes grew dark again. The momentary truce was over.

  “She’s not watching over anyone. She didn’t care about us,” he insisted. “She left us. Left us so he could drag us out here, away from our friends, from our home. I hate it here,” Mac told her angrily.