Temporary Dad

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Um, sure. Perfect.” Especially since men hadn’t figured out how to read female minds!

  “Good. Anyway, I was just saying we should be at the cabin in about two hours.”

  “Great.” They’d get Patti and at least have a chaperone for the trip home. But wait a minute. Annie’s stomach lurched. Patti would’ve driven Jed’s truck to the cabin. If Patti took her van and the babies home, that would leave Annie alone in the truck with Jed.

  A misery-filled whimper came from Richard in the back.

  Annie reached behind her and jiggled his seat. “Hang in there just a little longer.”

  Waaaah huh waaaaaaaaahh!

  Jed sighed. “So close, and yet so far…”

  Now Pia joined in.

  Then Ronnie.

  “Sorry,” Annie said, giving Jed’s shoulder a sympathetic pat that wasn’t supposed to result in her palm tingling. “But it looks like our trip’s been extended again.”

  “THIS IS BEAUTIFUL!” A few minutes later, Annie was rubbing baby heads while trying to catch a glimpse of the postcard-perfect view of snowcapped mountains cradling a shimmering lake.

  There hadn’t been anywhere to pull over on the steep interstate, but now they were approaching Dillon, a small town just north of Breckenridge.

  Annie opened her window. It’d been mid-nineties in Denver, but it was in the seventies up here. The air smelled too good to be real. A blend of pine trees and water, earth and sun.

  “Ooh!” Annie squealed. “Not only is this place gorgeous, but there’s an outlet mall.” Forget the mountains—check out the size of that Liz Claiborne store! “I wish we weren’t in such a hurry. I could do some serious damage to my finances there.”

  “Watch it, buddy.” Jed cursed under his breath when an SUV with camping gear piled on top cut him off, then did a U-turn. “Nice. Why don’t you just skip the road and try driving on the median?”

  “Goodbye, mall,” Annie said. “Maybe we’ll get to know each other next time I’m in town.” If there ever was a next time.

  Jed pulled into a gas station. “Shall we divide and conquer?”

  “Sure. Want me to do babies or the gas?”

  He sent a truly pained look over his shoulder into the angry pink-and-blue mob in the back seat. “Guess.”

  “All right, gang…” Annie unfastened her seat belt to climb into the back. “Looks like I drew the short straw, so work with me here.”

  She felt diapers. One—ew. Majorly loaded. The other two seemed okay. “Pia, dahling, let’s get your latest surprise cleaned up.”

  She took the infant and changing pad to the second bench seat. Jed stood right outside the window pumping gas.

  He waved.

  Grinning, Annie stuck out her tongue.

  He returned the favor.

  She held up Pia and wiggled the baby.

  Jed pressed his nose to the glass and made a silly face.

  Eyelashes still wet from her recent tears, the baby girl giggled.

  So did the big girl. “Your uncle’s a charmer, isn’t he?” she said softly, commencing with the business of unsnapping the baby’s britches.

  Pia cooed.

  “Ah, so you agree?”

  Luckily, Pia’s brothers must’ve sensed their sister’s change in mood, since they quieted, too.

  “Agree with what?” Jed was back in the front seat.

  “None of your beeswax. This is private girl stuff.”

  “You two making fun of me?”

  “Maybe.” Annie wiped the baby’s bottom. Whew. For such a tiny bottom, it sure packed a potent punch.

  “Girl,” Jed said, “you stink.”

  Pia smiled.

  “I’m gonna check for messages.” He pointed to a nearby pay phone.

  She waved him along.

  Annie had to pause for a moment to counteract the affect of Jed’s leaning over the seat in all his glory. Had there ever been a more gorgeous man?

  Annie finished her task as quickly as possible—not so much to avoid the smell, but because being so close to Jed was just too darned hard. It made her think crazy things. Like how much fun it would be to cuddle up with him on rainy spring nights or snowy winter mornings.

  When Jed returned and Pia was strapped back into her carrier, Annie asked, “Do you want me to drive?”

  He shook his head. “I need something to do with my hands. I’m starting to feel antsy about what we might find.”

  “You don’t think Patti’s hurt, do you?”

  “Nah. But I’m sure she’s badly shaken. I know my sister. She needs me now—more than ever.”

  Chapter Eight

  Patti eased her fingers around her husband’s neck, hugging him as close as possible without causing him pain. “I’ve been so scared,” she said.

  “’Bout what?” His voice still scratchy from the tube they’d only recently removed from his throat, Howie laughed. “I’m a Mack truck. Nothing’s gonna keep me away from you and our babies.”

  “I love you,” she said, giving him another light squeeze.

  “So,” he asked, once she stepped back, “when are they springing me from this joint?”

  “The doctor said she’s going to move you out of ICU in a couple hours, then you’ll probably be here at least another week on the regular floor.”

  “A week?” He tried to lift his arm to scratch his head, but it obviously hurt too much.

  Patti did his scratching for him. “Once they get you into a regular room, I’ll see if someone can wrangle me hair-washing supplies.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble.”

  “Trouble?” She teared up but managed to give him a wavering smile. “Do you have any idea how awful the past few days have been?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Just wait till you get healthy enough for me to pummel you, mister. Then you’ll be sorry.”

  She hugged him again.

  “I shouldn’t have been driving that late. I’m just glad I only banged myself up and not someone else.”

  “Why were you driving, anyway?”

  “To get to my next sales call ahead of schedule, which would get me back home to you and the babies ahead of schedule. Speaking of which, how are my angels?”

  “Good question.” Patti put her hands on her hips. “As soon as I finish giving you a piece of my mind for being so careless with yourself, that brother of mine is going to hear a word or two about the fine art of returning phone calls.”

  A MUSCLE IN Jed’s jaw kept twitching, and it was bugging the hell out of him. Almost as much as the winter-ravaged dirt road that led to the cabin.

  But the babies seemed to enjoy the constant bumping. They hadn’t been so happy since he’d fed them all that ice cream at the zoo.

  He gripped the wheel harder.

  Man, he was nervous.

  He didn’t want to alarm Annie, but what if Patti was up here thinking about something drastic like committing suicide? Where had he failed in raising her? He’d done the best he could, but evidently that hadn’t been anywhere near good enough.

  The van hit a particularly nasty mudhole, jostling him all the way to his bones.

  The babies gurgled happily.

  “She’s going to be fine,” Annie said.

  “What?”

  “Your sister. She’ll be okay. We’ll probably find her lounging in the sun with a good book.”

  Jed’s heart and mind reeled. He’d only known Annie a few days, and yet they were so in tune.

  But were they really?

  Was it the urgency of their situation that made him see things that weren’t there?

  “What’s the first thing you’ll say to her?” she asked.

  He glanced at Annie and saw how she’d rested her arm on the open window. How the sun glinted golden off the fine hairs. How the cool, pine-scented mountain air ruffled her curls.

  He was freaking out, but look at her.

  So comfortable with her bare feet propped on the dash; he’d long sin
ce given up trying to cure her of the habit. She was so calm. So not at all like the chaotic images that flashed in his mind.

  Patti with slit wrists.

  Patti lifeless and overdosed.

  Patti crumpled at the base of a cliff.

  He pressed a hand to his forehead.

  This had to stop. The whole control thing. He had to trust that Patti wasn’t crazy, just hurting. He had to trust the woman beside him to help. Whatever they found, he wouldn’t have to weather it alone.

  As if reading his mind, Annie put her hand on his shoulder. Such a simple touch, but it meant the world.

  “Thank you,” he said, afraid to look at her.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Most women he’d known would have acted coy.

  Thank you for what? they’d ask, wanting, expecting him to give more. Turning his thanks into a compliment-fishing expedition for themselves. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to show how grateful he was, but at the moment, he lacked the emotional energy. Annie was different. She intrinsically understood his mental exhaustion. As soon as this ordeal was over, Jed planned to demonstrate in a hundred different ways how much her blind faith and trust in his mission had meant to him.

  “Are we almost there?” she asked, removing her hand from his arm.

  “Yeah,” he said with a tight nod, pulse raging. “A few more turns and we’ll come upon the lake, then the cabin.”

  “What’s it like? The cabin?”

  Bless her, she was trying to take his mind off the prospect of what they might find, hoping to ease his tension with small talk. Jed took her up on her offer. “It’s pretty sparse. Log construction. One bedroom. And since it’s inaccessible in the winter—the whole cabin, not just the bedroom—” he winked “—we just have a fireplace for heat.”

  “How about the important things? Electric? A flush toilet?”

  Seeing the worried furrow on her forehead made him smile. “Yes, and yes. Although the power up here has a mind of its own.”

  She laughed. “Sounds like a beach house my parents used to rent.”

  They rounded the last curve, to be treated to the sight that never failed to stir his soul. On this cloudless day, the lake wasn’t filled with water, but with midnight-blue diamonds. Most of the snow had melted from the mountains that embraced it, except for a few dirty white patches above the tree line.

  Palms sweating, heart hammering, Jed turned another curve, the one leading to the cabin, to Patti. “Here we are.”

  “Where’s your truck?” Annie asked as he pulled into the crude dirt trail that served as the driveway. “Think she parked around back?”

  He turned off the van, frowning. “I have no idea. But then I can’t imagine why she’s even up here, so what do I know? Maybe she went to town for supplies?”

  Annie unfastened her seat belt and lowered her feet from the dash. “I’ll bet that’s it.”

  Checking quickly in the back seat, Jed saw that all three babies were wide-eyed and ready for action. Damn. Why couldn’t they choose now to sleep?

  “Go ahead,” Jed’s savior said. “I’ll get this crowd into their stroller.”

  “No, let me help.”

  “Really. I’ll be fine. You go on.” There was her small hand on his shoulder again, her touch infusing him with strength.

  He took a deep breath, then opened his door.

  Half out of the van, he looked at Annie.

  The corners of her lips were raised in a hopeful smile. “These guys’ll be fine on their own for a few minutes. Want me to go with you?”

  Swallowing hard, he nodded.

  She checked the safety straps on the babies’ carriers, gave them each a teething ring to gum and walked around front to meet him.

  The place was eerily quiet.

  A pair of mountain bluebirds tweeted and a light breeze shushed through the pines, but other than that, there was silence. It unnerved Jed, and he took Annie’s hand. “My sister’s loud. She always has the TV or radio on. Says it’s background noise.”

  Annie squeezed his hand.

  Together, they crunched up the path that led to the cabin’s wide front porch. A couple of rockers usually sat out here. They stored them inside when they were gone.

  The rockers weren’t out. And that bothered him.

  “It’s beautiful here,” Annie said. “How do you stand going home?”

  “Once that first snow hits in September, it’s easy enough to head down the mountain to places where it’s still ninety.”

  They mounted the five steps.

  Dust.

  Yellow pine pollen.

  Cobwebs.

  Everywhere.

  It was obvious that no one had been in or out of the cabin’s front door in a while. All the shades were drawn, too.

  Jed dug the cabin’s key from the front pocket of his shorts. Reluctantly releasing Annie’s hand, he took hold of the padlock on the door, then fit in the key.

  It popped open with a click.

  He took the lock from its faceplate and opened the creaking door.

  “Patti?” he called into the darkness. “Sis?You in here?”

  Nothing.

  “Maybe, she’s in town like you said.” Annie crept up behind him.

  “Yeah.” But he knew from the faint smell of a long winter’s dust that Patti hadn’t been here at all.

  He suddenly felt dizzy. Weak in his knees.

  He set the lock on the dust-coated kitchen table, pulled out one of the chairs and sat before he fell down, pushing the heel of his hands against hot, stinging eyes.

  He’d been so sure she’d be here. And if she wasn’t at the cabin, where was she? Where else could she have gone?

  Annie eased her arms around his neck, her breasts pressing against his back. She rested her cheek on top of his head. “We’ll find her. I’ll help.”

  “Where could she be, Annie? Where could she be?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, voice scratchy, “but I promise you, Jed, we’ll find her. There has to be some logical explanation. No woman in her right mind would up and leave three gorgeous babies who need her.”

  “That’s just it,” he said. “What if she isn’t in her right mind? What if—”

  “No. You’re not going to think that way. It won’t solve anything. Until we hear different, we’re going to assume she’s fine. Maybe she’s lost or something.”

  “Yeah—it’s the or something that gets me.”

  “Jed…”

  “Okay, I get it. Positive thoughts. Now, let’s lock this place up and get back on the road.”

  One of the babies started to cry.

  “Are you kidding me?” Annie looked toward the van. “Jed, neither of us has slept more than a few hours for the past three days. The babies need to be out of their seats or the stroller for more than fifteen minutes at a time. I promise, we’ll leave first thing in the morning, but please, let’s just stay here for the night.”

  AN HOUR LATER, sweating from the effort of cleaning thick dust from every surface in the cabin, Jed asked, “Are you sure you want to go through all this trouble for only one night?”

  Annie glanced around the cabin with its lovably shabby brown sofa and chairs and the mismatched assortment of knickknacks that added up to a wonderfully eclectic home. Suddenly, she’d never been more sure of anything. She belonged here, with Jed, helping him find his sister.

  “Yes,” she said, putting her open palm on the cool, knotty-pine kitchen counter. “I feel kind of sorry for the place. It reminds me of some giant toy that used to be everyone’s favorite, but then got abandoned for something better.”

  “Nah,” Jed said, scrubbing the last of the pine-plank floor. “That wasn’t the way it happened at all. This place will always be special. Back when Mom and Dad were alive, we used to spend entire summers up here. Me and my little brother—”

  “I didn’t know you had a little brother.”

  “I don’t.”

  “But you
just said…”

  Instantly, Annie saw Jed’s entire demeanor change. He went from gently scrubbing the floor to wiping it so hard that if he wasn’t careful, he’d rub right through. “Forget what I said. Sometimes I have a really big mouth.” He finished, then stood to fling the bucket of soapy water off the back porch.

  Both doors to the cabin were open, as were all the windows, letting in a crisp-smelling breeze that should’ve aired out not only the cabin’s musty-dusties, but their heads. It should have. So why did Annie get the feeling that Jed was hurting—and hiding more than ever?

  “So after all we’ve shared, that’s it? You’re essentially telling me to mind my own business?”

  He stood just inside the door, filling it with the breadth of his shoulders and chest. Backlit by the fading late-afternoon sun, Jed’s face was a study in grim shadows. Annie wanted so badly to reach out to him, but how? He looked at her and stepped onto the small back porch.

  Jed slipped his hands into his shorts pockets.

  They should’ve gone to a motel. As much as he loved this place, it’s obviously no good for him. Too many memories. And now that Patti wasn’t here, there was too much pain.

  And then there was Little Miss Walking Therapy Session. Without her saying a word, he could tell what she was thinking.

  Really, Jed, you’ll feel better if you open up.

  Please, Jed, talk to me. Let me help.

  Ha. What she refused to understand was that he was beyond help.

  Life had dealt him some pretty crappy hands and that was just the way it was. But in life, you didn’t have the luxury of folding or trying a new batch of cards.

  In life, you get what you get and don’t pitch a fit.

  “Jed?”

  “Dammit, Annie, why don’t you understand that I don’t want to talk about my dead brother?”

  Eyes welling with tears, she brought her hands to her mouth. “All I was going to tell you was to look down. You have an admirer.”

  Embarrassed, ashamed, he did look down, only to get a much-deserved kick in the pants. Pia had escaped her makeshift playpen and now lay on her tummy, pretty-as-you-please, there beside his dusty Nikes.

  She looked up at him, her innocence stealing his breath. How could he grouse about his lot in life with such a miracle right here in front of him?

  Yes, his brother had died.