It was because of Sydney that Marta had come to Hades in the first place. For a short stay initially. It had turned into the stay without end rather quickly and nobody was happier about that than he was.
"After Sydney introduced her to you, I don't understand how that's still possible," Shayne commented.
Ike opened the front door. "Be there," he ordered before letting himself out.
"We'll see." It was as much of a promise as Shayne was willing to make at the moment. Watching his brother work a room would take a certain mind set on his part now. Gone were the days when he was proud of the way every eye turned to look at Ben in unabashed admiration.
As if coming to, Ben looked at the name on top of his folder. Another woman, he thought. He certainly hoped this wasn't another nonexistent malady used as a flimsy excuse to get close.
"June," Ben read the name jotted across the fairly thin folder.
In response, not one but two figures rose from their places in the waiting room, June Yearling Quintano and her husband, Kevin. He tried to take his wife's elbow to assist her since she was rather heavy at this point in her pregnancy and the chair she'd been sitting on didn't have arms for her to grip.
With a tight smile, June drew her elbow away. She was stubborn and took a great deal of pride in being independent. She dug herself out of the chair and walked into the inner office ahead of Kevin.
She had on a pair of denim overalls. The same kind of overalls, albeit a couple of annoying sizes larger now, that she'd worn while running her original auto-repair shop. She'd sold the place just before she'd met Kevin, who was the owner of Hades's only airline service. But people still came to her, complaining that the person she'd sold her shop to wasn't nearly as good as she was. Finding herself fixing vehicles for free, June decided that maybe making a go of the old family farm wasn't her true destiny after all.
Shortly before she discovered she was pregnant, she bought back her shop. Despite her condition, she was at the shop every day.
"She was supposed to be only supervising at this point," Kevin told Ben once they were inside the exam room and June had gotten onto the table to have her vital signs taken and recorded. "That was the agreement. She's not supposed to be lying on a dolly, sliding under a car to fix whatever's wrong with its undercarriage," Kevin complained.
"I only did it once," June said defensively. "Two months ago."
Kevin threw up his hands. He'd gotten married later than most, having first raised his sisters and brother, putting them all through college. "She won't listen to me," he told Ben. "I thought maybe she might listen to a doctor. That's why I got her to come in."
Ben put the chart aside and sat down on the table beside her. He marveled at how much the young woman had grown. When he'd left, June had been all arms and legs and pigtails. But he recalled that even then she'd had a knack for figuring out what was wrong with a machine and how to fix it.
"June," he began kindly, "you may not think so, but you're not Superwoman."
June blew out a breath as she shot an exasperated glance at her husband. "I'm not trying to lift the car, Doc, just fix a few things on it. I get antsy sitting on the sidelines," she complained.
"This is the time to shore up your energy," Ben pointed out to her. "Because once that baby's here, trust me, you're going to need it. Babies take up a disproportionate amount of time and energy for their size."
June tossed her head. "Gran was at work in the morning, gave birth to Mom at noon and was back at work by three."
"She was sorting mail," Kevin reminded her. Ursula had told him all about life in the small town when she had been June's age. "And back then the mail plane only came to Hades once a week."
"June, try to take it easy," Ben told her, his voice a little more authoritative. "The cars aren't going anywhere, and Andy and Pete," he referred to the two young men she had working at the shop, "can't learn what to do if you do everything yourself." The expression on his face turned serious. "You don't want anything happening to the baby because you were being stubborn, do you?"
June pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No."
Ben grinned, getting off the table. "Right answer. Okay, now fill me in on everything else." He picked up the chart again. "Any other complaints?"
She sighed, then stuck out her legs in front of her. "Yeah, my feet are swelling."
As she spoke, giving him the details he'd asked for, Ben heard the bell that was mounted over the front door ring twice. It was going to be a long day. But he was looking forward to tonight.
* * *
"About time you got home."
The sharp words greeted Heather the moment she opened the front door and walked in. It was as if her mother had waited for her at the window.
In less than a heartbeat, Hannah and Hayley surrounded her and grasped her waist with eager little arms and hands.
Draping an arm around each girl, Heather paused to savor the moment. To her this was what it was all about. Her daughters. This was permanent; this was real. She smiled wryly. The other wasn't real.
Ben Kerrigan was just a dream she was having, a fantasy destined to fade away into the mists. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be out of her life very soon. The next time a whim moved him.
That he'd been attentive, that he'd taken her and the girls out several times, well, that was just something she could remember fondly later. When she was alone again.
Looking up at her mother, Heather put her own interpretation to Martha Ryan's terse words. "Girls giving you trouble today?"
"No." And then, as if her mother couldn't allow that answer to pass, she added, "No more than usual."
"Then why the sudden delight in seeing me come home?"
Martha pursed her lips, deepening the frown that had become imbedded in her face. "I need help."
Heather looked at her mother warily. "What's wrong, Mother?"
"I can't zip up this damn dress, that's what's the matter," Martha snapped, shifting as much as she was able within the chair.
For the first time since she'd come home, Heather actually looked at her mother, not just her expression or her countenance, but what she was wearing.
It wasn't one of the fleece robes her mother favored, the ones that accentuated the fact that she considered herself a shut-in. Instead Martha Ryan had on her navy-blue dress with the white collar and cuffs. Heather vaguely recalled seeing that dress on her mother when she was a young girl. Heather was surprised that the dress appeared to still fit her mother. She was even more surprised so see that her mother wore it. And that she had makeup on.
After disengaging herself gently from the girls, Heather went over to her mother. Was her mother expecting company? Was she going out again? She felt a smile forming inside her at the thought that her mother was human after all.
"Lean forward," she instructed softly. When her mother obeyed, Heather pulled the zipper all the way up, then gently tucked the dress down so it wouldn't wrinkle. "What's the occasion?"
"You ought to know." Martha's tone was far from chatty or friendly as she straightened again. Her eyes deliberately on her dress, she smoothed out her skirt, saying a few choice things about the effect that life in a wheelchair had on dress fabric.
"If I knew, Mother, I wouldn't ask."
Martha turned her wheelchair around so that she could catch her reflection in the mirror. "They're having a party for him."
Him. Her first thought was of Ben, but her mother didn't even like Ben, so she wouldn't be preparing to go to a party for him. Besides, he would have mentioned something about it when she saw him the other night. "Who's having a party for whom?"
Martha frowned, her eyes narrowing. "That Ike character. For your boyfriend."
Heather was vaguely aware of Ike's custom of throwing parties for newcomers. When Joe was alive, she'd attended several such celebrations. Ike liked to throw parties whenever someone new came to town, or someone decided to return for a visit. Any excuse would do, rea
lly. But once Joe was gone, she'd reverted back to her shy state and kept to herself whenever there was any kind of a party. No one really asked questions.
"Ike is having a party?" she echoed.
"For your boyfriend," Martha repeated. "I'm surprised you don't know about it."
She was way too tired to deal with her mother right now. All she wanted was a quick shower and to curl up on the bed, watching some silly children's program with her girls.
"I've been working all day, Mother. And if you're referring to Ben—"
Martha snorted. "Of course I'm referring to Ben. How many boyfriends do you have, girl?"
Heather planted herself firmly before her mother. "By last count, none."
"He was just here the other night." Martha scowled. "That man dump you?" It was more of an accusation than anything else.
Out of the corner of her eye, Heather saw that both Hannah and Hayley were listening to the conversation as if their very existence depended on absorbing every word. She didn't want them getting the wrong idea about what was going on between her and Ben. And she really didn't want them getting attached, although it might already be too late for that. She'd seen how they looked at him, how Hayley even attempted to flirt a little, although she doubted the little girl actually knew what she was doing. As for Hannah, there was a clear case of hero worship in her eyes.
How ironic. Hannah worshipped her father. And so far, with good reason. Because Ben treated them both as if they mattered. As if they were little people. He certainly treated them with more interest and respect than her own mother did.
As for her, he treated her like a friend. A friend he was catching up on life with, nothing more. He hadn't even kissed her again since that first time. If she'd been more than a friend, he would have at least tried again once.
It was almost as if he'd regretted their kiss. Now he was determined to make her understand that there was only friendship between them.
This bothered her. A great deal. But that was her problem, certainly not his. And not any concern of her mother's.
"Mother," she said softly, "that's not the kind of relationship that Ben and I have." She avoided looking at Hannah as she said, "He's a friend."
Rather than the extensive debate she was anticipating, her mother merely shrugged indifferently. "If that's what you want to call it. Here." Her mother held out a necklace to her. "Help me with this."
Heather stared at the single strand. "Your pearl necklace?" She looked up at her mother. It was the one piece of good jewelry her father had given her mother. "You haven't had that on since—"
"Since your no-good father left," Martha completed her thought. "Yes, I know. Just because he was a worthless, no-account is no reason to take it out on the necklace," Martha informed her.
Heather tried to process what was going on. Apparently a leopard could change its spots, because this was a completely different woman from the one she'd grown up with. Looking back, her mother had been different now for several weeks. If not for the occasional snapping and displays of ill humor, Heather would have said that someone had kidnapped her mother, leaving a rather even-tempered clone in her place.
And it was all Ursula's doing, Heather thought, and Yuri's cousin, Jan.
However long this lasted—and she had become too much of a realist to believe that it could go on indefinitely—she was grateful.
"Are you going in that?" Martha asked suddenly, turning her wheelchair around sharply and looking her over with that critical expression Heather knew so well.
No one had asked her, and Heather wasn't in the habit of inviting herself to anything. "No, I'm not going at all."
"You're going to play hard to get?" Martha asked incredulously. "With Ben Kerrigan?"
"I thought you hated Ben."
"He's a doctor," Martha pointed out. "I can learn to overlook his shortcomings."
"Mother, if he stays here, Ben's going to be a doctor in a town that's not exactly affluent."
"A doctor's a doctor," Martha replied philosophically.
Heather could only shake her head in wonder. This woman was not her mother. "Whatever this Jan is doing, tell him I approve."
Martha glared at her. "He's not doing anything." But just then the doorbell rang and her mother was transformed from a sour-faced woman to an almost eager-eyed, flustered adolescent.
"Get that!" Martha ordered eagerly.
The closest to the door, Hayley pivoted on her heel and began to yank it open.
"No," Heather ordered, running up to the door. "You're not supposed to open it unless I tell you to."
Hayley frowned. "There's no strangers here, Mama," she told her with an air of authority.
"There are some," Heather told her patiently. "You didn't know grandma's friend Jan until a few weeks ago, did you?" She looked from one face to the other. The girls solemnly shook their heads. "He was a stranger. And Doc Ben, he was a stranger until you were introduced—"
"Give her the object lesson later," Martha insisted, growing visibly more antsy. "Just please get the door."
Please. Now there was a word she hadn't heard her mother use very often.
Stifling a laugh at her mother's poorly concealed zeal, Heather opened the door, ready to greet the miracle workers known as Ursula and company.
The greeting on her lips faded in surprise as the man in the doorway evoked cheers from Hannah and Hayley, who were now flanking her.
Ben grinned back in response.
Chapter Ten
Despite the fact that he had been back a month and their paths had crossed a number of times, Heather still couldn't get used to seeing Ben. Each time was like the first time at the clinic. Tiny shock waves would undulate through her veins, as if an impromptu party was going on inside her body.
Just like now.
It took her a moment to step aside and allow him in. "Hi." The smile in his eyes, never mind his lips, lit up her house. When he looked at her girls and repeated the greeting with warmth, her heart felt so full.
"Hi!"
"Hi!"
Both girls instantly turned into jumping jacks and surrounded him, their young voices blending into a joyous symphony.
After returning their affection, Ben focused his attention on the one member of the family who had said nothing. "Hello, Mrs. Ryan. You look lovely tonight."
Was it her imagination or did her mother look just the slightest bit flustered by the compliment? But then, the next moment Martha Ryan was once again flying true to form. "Meaning I didn't the last time you came to the house?"
"Lovelier," Ben corrected himself without missing a beat.
With an almost royal nod of her head, Martha appeared pleased at the correction. And placated.
"I'd forgotten just how smooth your tongue can be," Heather murmured to him, low enough for her mother to miss the comment. The vaguest hint of a frown formed on his face, evoking confusion from her. Had she insulted him? Hurt his feelings? "What?"
His eyes held hers just for a moment. She tried to read his thoughts and failed. "Makes me sound like a snake oil salesman."
She had insulted him. God, that hadn't been her intention. "I didn't mean—"
Overhearing, Hayley tugged on Ben's jacket to secure his attention. Her pretty face was puckered in confusion. "What's snake oil?"
"Something that comes in a pretty package but doesn't work," Ben answered simply. He raised his eyes to Heather. Was that what she thought of him? As someone who was always trying to sell people on something that had no value? Did she think of him as being self-centered? Shallow? The thought bothered him.
"You're not in a package." Hayley giggled, covering her mouth as if to keep the sound from erupting.
Ben winked at her, completely winning her heart all over again. "It would have to be a very large package." And then he looked at the other females in the small living room. "I came to invite you ladies to the Salty Dog. Seems they're giving a party in my honor." The last word echoed back at him and he grin
ned. "Now there's something I never thought I'd hear myself say." He rolled it over again on his tongue. "My honor."
"Like when Mama asks us a question and we gotta answer 'On my honor'?" Hannah asked.
Heather noticed the girl no longer hung back the way she usually did, a prisoner of her own shyness. Since Ben had started paying attention to her, Hannah had begun to bloom.
But he's not going to keep coming around, Heather reminded herself for the umpteenth time. Today, tomorrow, next week, he'll be gone. Just like he was the last time. She drew in her breath, as if already bracing herself. Don't get used to this. Don't let the girls get used to this.
"A penny for your thoughts."
Heather jumped, startled. She hadn't realized that Ben had said something to her and had an amused expression on his face. He probably thought she was an empty-headed dolt, incapable of a complex sentence, much less a complex thought.
"Yes," she told him decisively. "I was thinking yes. In answer to your invitation," she added.
To her surprise Ben traced his fingertip along the small, furrowed area between her eyes. "Looked like there was more going on than just that."
Her heart hammered madly. Heather willed herself to remain calm, or at least to look that way. "No." And then she summoned a smile. "A penny doesn't go very far these days."
The grin that unfolded on his lips went straight to her overworked heart. "I'll have to remember that."
Everything in the room faded to a blur. How did he keep doing that?
And then the doorbell rang, shattering the moment. And saving her.
"Who's that? Who's that?" Hayley asked, excitement vibrating in her voice.
"Answer it," Martha ordered her daughter, unable to conceal her own excitement.
Before Heather could comply, Ben reached over for the doorknob and opened the door.
This time it was Ursula, Yuri and his cousin, Jan. Glancing at her mother, she saw that at least for the moment, Martha hadn't managed to hide her pleasure. She was smiling.
The Prodigal M.D. Returns Page 10