Stand-In Mom

by Marie Ferrarella

  As Shayne went to examine the men at the next table, Ike sank down into the chair opposite Marta. “Had enough excitement for one day?”

  Marta pulled the mug over to her, clasping it in both hands. She took a long swallow before answering, not trusting the condition of her throat to do anything but croak a reply. It was as dry as any of the burned ruins left in the fire’s wake. “I’d say yes, more than enough, thank you.”

  He leaned over. When he reached for her face, Marta drew her head away, a question in her eyes. “You’ve got some soot on your chin.”

  Before she could remedy the situation herself, Ike took her chin in his hand. Using his thumb, he rubbed away the long streak. For the life of him, he couldn’t explain why that aroused him, but it did. It seemed that everything about her aroused him. She was like whiskey, taken straight on an empty stomach. She made his head spin.

  He didn’t sit back right away. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  Marta struggled to get her bearings. She’d felt calmer during the fire than she did now. She feigned interest in her drink. “For what?”

  Ike was surprised she had to ask, but then, they’d all been through a great deal tonight. And he would have bet any amount of money that this was all new to her.

  “If you hadn’t seen those sparks land on the roof, there’s no telling how much damage the Salty would have sustained. We were all so involved with the general store, my saloon could easily have burned down.”

  Marta didn’t want him thanking her for that. She felt restless, and unsure what it was she wanted from him. Other than peace. “I just saw it first.” She took another long sip. “Someone had to.”

  He’d made her uncomfortable again, he realized. Why? “You don’t take compliments very well, do you?”

  Marta looked away. Maybe it was time they were leaving. But when she looked for Shayne, he was busy talking to someone at the bar. So much for a quick getaway. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He placed his hand over hers, bringing her attention back to him. “Yes, you do. Every time I try to say something nice to you, you practically slam it back at me, like a tennis ball you’re determined to lob over the net. You’re afraid that if you don’t, you might lose the championship.”

  Marta opened her mouth to deny it, but she discovered that she just didn’t have the strength. Instead, she lifted her shoulder in a half shrug. “Maybe I just don’t trust compliments.” A defiant look entered her eyes. “They’re usually just empty words, anyway.”

  Ike felt himself bristling. She was lumping him in with others she’d known. “You’re never going to be able to enjoy yourself and what life has to offer if you don’t put yesterday behind you.”

  They’d made love today, not yesterday. What was he talking about? Marta wondered. “Yesterday?”

  “Your yesterday,” he clarified. “All your yesterdays.” Ike closed his hand over hers. She was feisty as all hell, and yet he couldn’t get over the impression that she was really a vulnerable woman who needed someone to lean on. She’d probably have his head if she could read his thoughts. “Life can only go forward if you do.”

  She pulled her hand away, dropping it in her lap. “I’m moving ahead just fine, thank you. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Maybe I don’t have to.” A smile played on his lips as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Doesn’t mean I won’t. You’re quite a woman, Marta Jensen, no matter how much you want me to think you’re not.”

  She looked away. You’d think, after everything she’d been through tonight, that her stomach wouldn’t turn to gelatin just because he’d skimmed his fingers along her face. “Doesn’t matter to me what you think.”

  He rose to his feet, and Marta thought she’d finally managed to chase him away. It was what she wanted, she told herself.

  And yet…

  Instead of leaving her table, Ike raised his mug and called for everyone’s attention.

  “I’d like to propose a toast.” He looked down at her and grinned when he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. “To Marta Jensen. If it wasn’t for this little darlin’, we’d all be doing our drinking in the snow right now—if we even had anything to drink.”

  That drew a wave of groans and protests from the men as they contemplated life without a retreat. Almost in unison, they all raised their mugs and shouted, “To Marta Jensen, savior of the Salty Saloon.”

  Laughing, feeling perhaps a little more of the beer than she’d intended, Marta raised her mug to toast the men who were toasting her. In the spirit of the moment, she raised the mug to her lips.

  The next thing she knew, she was engulfed by the men. Someone began singing a chorus of “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” Within seconds, everyone was singing along. Two men closest to her suddenly hoisted her onto their shoulders. The men were not of equal height, and she found herself listing.

  Laughing, clutching their shoulders, Marta tried to steady herself. The men who had been so tired only moments ago carried her around the bar and continued singing, mostly off-key. They came to an abrupt stop right before the bar, as if they hadn’t realized it was there. Caught off guard, Marta began slipping forward in an ignoble dismount. She would have fallen had Ike not been there to catch her. And bring her to a jarring halt.

  Her body slid along the length of his until her feet reached the ground.

  Urgent messages telegraphed themselves all up and down her nerve endings, begging for a repeat of the morning they had shared.

  She was going to have to do something about this, she told herself. And soon, if she was going to maintain her dignity, let alone her sanity.

  Dignity faded quickly when she saw the look in Ike’s eyes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Like smoke filling her lungs, eating away at her air supply, Marta caught her breath as the realization came. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

  Why hadn’t she realized that looking into Ike’s eyes was exactly like looking into the eyes of that fireman who had saved her life so long ago?

  Because it wasn’t the same, her mind insisted. Yes, the color was the same, and yes, there might have been that same warm glint to them that had once created the feeling within her that she was safe, that no harm would come to her. But it wasn’t the same, not really. One was true; the other, just a distorted childhood memory. An illusion, nothing more.

  But looking into Ike’s eyes, she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling.

  And then Shayne was behind her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder and intruding on the moment. And dissolving the last remnants of the illusion.

  “Everyone seems to be okay, so I think I’ll be heading home,” he said. “You want to come along and pick up Celine, or would you rather we kept her for the night?”

  The thought of another sleepless night stacked on top of the day he’d just had sapped the last of Ike’s energy. He flashed a grateful smile at the suggestion. “If Sydney doesn’t mind…”

  “You know Sydney, she never minds when it comes to kids.” Shayne looked at Marta. “Ready?”

  “Ready.” She turned away from Ike, feeling as if she’d just been saved from making a huge mistake.

  And very possibly, from experiencing another delicious interlude.

  But that, she reminded herself as she sat next to Shayne on the way home a few minutes later, was all it was, even at its best. Just an interlude. And wonderful though the lovemaking had been, she needed no more interludes in her life. What she craved now, what she’d always craved, was something permanent. That just wasn’t in the cards, not here with Ike. There was no reason to invest her emotions, or her heart.

  No reason at all.

  Except maybe for a pair of brown eyes that saw into her soul, and a mouth that made her burn when it touched hers.

  Ike sat back on his heels, watching. Waiting for the fire he was coaxing to life in the fireplace to take hold. There was a chill in the air that the electricity—now that it was
finally turned on—couldn’t manage to vanquish. Crackling sounds accompanied the struggle. He breathed a sigh of satisfaction as the small flames began to multiply, growing stronger.

  Rising, he dusted off his hands on his jeans and turned around to look at Marta.

  She was sitting, rocking Celine. Rocking her in the very same rocking chair where his mother had once sat, rocking Junie. Warm feelings began to cascade through him, and he smiled to himself. It wasn’t in him to dwell on the sadness, only the good times.

  Like now.

  This was the first time he and Marta had been alone since he’d made love with her last week.

  Last week? It felt more like an eternity ago. And it was, if he measured it in longing. In nights spent imagining her beside him.

  She was probably the only woman on earth who could reduce him to the state of an awkward teen. Words didn’t seem to come easily to him around her.

  Just feelings.

  Like the ones he was having now. Strange, foreign feelings. Feelings, he thought, that he would have attributed to people like Shayne. But not to him.

  And yet, here he was, having them. And not knowing what the hell to do about them, or even if he wanted to do anything about them.

  “This wasn’t exactly a typical week, you know,” Ike said, approaching her. She looked at him quizzically, as if she hadn’t expected him to talk. “Fires usually don’t break out, and we don’t usually have marathon house-raising sessions, fixing up one place, much less two.” The moment his house had been set to rights, the town had turned its attention to clearing away the debris that had once been the walls and ground floor of the general store, and rebuilding it.

  “And babies.” He crouched until he was down to Celine’s level. Ever so gently, he glided his hand over her soft hair. She stirred in Marta’s arms. And in his heart. “Babies don’t usually drop out of the sky into my lap.”

  It was the only way he could say it, the only way he could divorce himself from the pain that having Celine in his life represented. Because if she weren’t here, it would mean that Junie still would be somewhere.

  Resting his hands on the arm of the rocker, Ike looked up at Marta. She could feel her stomach tightening. It had to stop, Marta told herself sternly.

  It didn’t.

  “Well, maybe not dropping out of the sky,” she allowed, trying very hard to sound disinterested, detached. “But I would have thought there’d be at least a handful floating around somewhere with your features stamped on their faces.”

  Ike caught himself thinking how perfect her face seemed. How tempting her mouth was. Damn, but he wanted her. He released the rocker arm, afraid he’d grip it just a little too hard.

  “No, no small tribe with LeBlanc blood in their veins.” He rose to his feet. “I would have known, and I would have taken full responsibility.”

  “Then that would make you a very exceptional man.”

  Moving very carefully, she rose with Celine in her arms. She crossed to the small room that had been converted into a nursery and placed the baby into the crib that she had helped Ike put together just yesterday. It had been in the attic, dismantled because of a lack of space. There was other furniture in the room as well. A bureau and a bassinet had arrived in a cargo plane piloted by Jeb Kellogg. A former resident of Hades, Jeb had recently moved on to Anchorage. Now he made occasional runs for the various stores in the city to deliver items purchased by people living in the far corners of the region that were too large to be brought back in private Cessnas. Jeb had made his drop, then gone to see his family for an extended visit. Learning of their close call had shaken him.

  It had taken the better part of yesterday to put everything together and at any given time, there had been three of them at it. Shayne and Sydney had come by, as well as Jean Luc and a few of Ike’s other friends.

  Ike stood in the doorway now of the baby’s room, his arms crossed before him, watching Marta. Wondering what it would be like if he were watching his wife cover their baby.

  The thought caught him by surprise.

  Marta could feel him watching her. Could feel his eyes sweeping along her body. Could feel herself growing warm. It was time to leave. Quickly.

  She walked past him, not sparing Ike even a glance. “I guess I’d better be getting back.”

  It didn’t surprise Marta that he followed her. Or that he stopped her, his hand on her arm. “Do you have to go so soon?”

  She had an excuse all ready. An escape plan all mapped out. “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow, and so far I’ve spent more time with you and Celine than I have with the person I came to see. Sydney,” she added in case he was going to say something flippant and somehow turn the focus back on himself.

  As if every part of her wasn’t already focused on him.

  He moved his hands from her arms to her shoulders. His thumbs teased the hoops at her ears, sending them swaying in tandem. “Has it been that hard on you, being here with us?”

  “No.” Her eyes on his, she caught the hoops and stilled them. “Although I have to admit I think you’re not as inept as you pretend.”

  A small, seductive smile crept over his lips and under her skin, making her so achingly aware of him. Of how close he was standing to her.

  “That depends on what you’re referring to. If you mean caring for Celine, then you’d be surprised at how inept I can be.” Very slowly, still talking, still looking into her eyes, Ike ran his fingertip along her chin. He felt her shiver forming before she stifled it. “If you mean something else—” his smile went deep into her soul “—then I think this is where I should be taking offense.”

  Her eyes glinted. “Relax, I wasn’t talking about your manhood.”

  He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this much. Or enjoying wanting a woman this much. “Why talk about it when you could be doing something about it?” Visions of how she’d been with him that afternoon began to play through his mind, wreaking havoc over his restraint. He ran the back of his hand along her cheek. “Or with it.”

  Marta felt her eyes begin to drift shut, felt everything else begin to wake up. She could feel the struggle within her heightening, could feel the final outcome forming.

  She’d promised herself this wasn’t going to happen again. So far, she’d been able to maintain at least some distance between them since the afternoon on which he’d initiated her into a whole new world of lovemaking. Even when they’d put the baby furniture together, there had always been someone around. She’d made sure of that, asking Sydney to come and help, and to spread the word that they needed skilled input.

  But she’d spread no such word today. There was nothing left to put together, except perhaps the crumbling fences she’d had up around her heart. They were in jeopardy of disintegrating completely, leaving her exposed.

  She wished Sydney were here. Or she were there.

  She wished she didn’t want him as much as she did.

  Marta tried to clear her throat. Dust would have found it too dry to remain. She tried to muster as much conviction as she could. “I really think I should go.”

  Ike wasn’t about to strong-arm Marta into staying, even though he wanted her to more than he thought was humanly possible. “Okay, but I have something for you before you go.”

  She would have thought he would put up a little more of a fight to get her to stay. It only went to show how wrong she could be about a man. About men in general.

  Wondering if he thought of himself as the supreme gift, she raised a skeptical brow at his wording. “Oh?”

  Ike caught her drift immediately and laughed. “No, not that. You already made it pretty clear that you weren’t interested.” There was more than a shade of regret in his voice. “Wait here.”

  Curious now, she felt herself growing impatient as she waited for him to return. If he wasn’t euphemistically referring to himself, she couldn’t imagine what—

  Her eyes widened when she saw what he had in his hands. Marta’s hands fle
w up to her lips. “Oh, my God.”

  The instant she saw the silly, champagne-colored stuffed animal, her eyes welled up so quickly that they threatened to overflow, just the way her heart did a moment later.

  “I thought you might like to have this.” He handed it to her.

  “Glen.” The bear looked just like the one she’d lost, except that he was a lot less worn. She blinked back the tears even as she combed her fingers through the silky fur. Memories crowded into her head. She raised her eyes, looking at Ike. He probably thought she was an idiot, behaving this way. “Where did you get it?”

  Ike couldn’t remember ever feeling this pleased giving a gift before. “Mayfield’s department store.”

  Jeb had delivered the toy to him a few minutes before Marta had arrived this morning. He’d paid the man twice the going rate for the pickup. But then, it was a very special bear. One that had taken Ike the better part of a week to locate. The fur was straight, not curly the way she’d described. “It’s probably not exactly like the one you lost, but this was as close as I could find.”

  “How did you—?”

  He grinned. “We do have phones that work here. I called around with a description. I never realized how many different toy stores there are in Anchorage and Fairbanks.” That’s why it had taken him this long to find the bear. Feeling just the slightest bit awkward in the face of her tears, he pretended to fiddle with the red bow around the bear’s neck, adjusting it. “I thought maybe, when you looked at it, you’d remember Celine.” His eyes met hers. “And me.”

  “Oh, I’ll remember you, all right.”

  He heard the tears in her voice, saw a couple spill out and slide down her cheeks. Had he been wrong? Did the bear bring back painful memories for her? “I didn’t give that to you to make you cry.”

  Marta pressed her lips together, calling herself an idiot. She was supposed to be made of tougher stuff than this. She tightened her arms around the teddy bear, pressing it to her chest. “I know. I love it.”

  He pretended to eye the stuffed animal. “Right now, I think I’m a little envious of that bear, being where it is.”