Stand-In Father (Intimate Moments) (14 page)

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Authors: Pat Warren

BOOK: Stand-In Father (Intimate Moments)
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Finishing, she bagged the baked goods and allowed herself for a brief moment to remember the way he’d held her, touched her, kissed her. Wanted her. Then reality had come crashing back and she’d opened her eyes to find she was cold, wet and ashamed.
The harsh reality was that there were few men who wanted a simple life, to work alongside a woman and her son, to make a life for them all—a dependable man. She could depend only on herself, and Grace, of course. Squaring her shoulders despite the ache, Megan repeated the phrases she so often said to herself like a mantra.
It’ll be all right. Things will work out. You can do it.
The sooner she got Ryan his dinner and saw to it that he was showered and in bed, the sooner she could finally crawl under the covers herself. A full eight hours of uninterrupted and dreamless sleep would bring back her energy and remove the dark circles under her eyes, Megan decided. If she drove the baked goods over to the Cornerstone now, that would be one less thing she’d have to do tomorrow morning.
Hurrying, she ran up the stairs to get her car keys. On the way back down, her thoughts elsewhere, she didn’t pay attention to her feet. Five steps from the bottom, she stumbled, grabbed for the railing, but it was too late.
Megan went crashing to the tiled floor, her right foot wrenching miserably under her as she landed unceremoniously on her bottom. “Oh!” she cried out, feeling a sharp pain rip all the way from her ankle and up her leg.
Eyes closed, she sat there, willing the pain to go away as she braced one hand on the bottom stair. Running footsteps could be heard coming in her direction, then suddenly, Grace was there, bending over her.
“Honey, what happened?” Uncertain whether to help her up just yet, Grace frowned.
“I lost my footing on the last couple of steps.” Megan set her teeth, determined to stand. “Help me up and...” But the piercing pain had her slumping back despite Grace’s strong arm lending support.
More footsteps, two sets, one heavy and one fast and lighter. “Mom, what’s wrong?” Ryan asked from halfway down the stairs where he’d stopped, fearful of going farther.
“Just a little accident,” Megan said, hoping she sounded more reassuring than she felt as Alex came through the double doors into the kitchen and spotted the forlorn group.
“Let me have a look,” Grace said, scrunching down and easing off Megan’s sandal. The ankle was already swelling. She heard Megan draw in a painful breath as her fingers lightly pressed along her leg. “I think you’ve got a bad sprain here.”
Alex moved closer. “You want us to call your doctor or go with you to the hospital for X rays?” He could see by her face that neither choice held much appeal.
“The hospital?” Ryan said in a small, trembling voice. He didn’t want his mother to go to the hospital. His father had gone there and never come back.
Ignoring her pain, Megan looked up at her son and found a smile. “I’m okay, Ryan. No hospital.” She turned to Grace. “If you’ll just help me up to my room, I’ll wrap it and it’ll be fine by morning.”
Grace sent Alex a doubtful look.
He noticed it and stepped closer. “Put your arm around my neck,” he ordered. When she did without protesting, he figured she had to be hurting badly to have traded her usual feistiness for this unexpected compliancy. He lifted her up into his arms and settled her against his chest.
“I can walk myself...with a little help,” Megan said without much confidence.
“I don’t think so.” Alex spoke to Grace over his shoulder as he started up the stairs. “Since she doesn’t want to go to the hospital, call her doctor and see if he’ll come out. I don’t think he’d want her to put her weight on this ankle until he’s checked her over.”
Megan struggled in his arms, trying to catch Grace’s eye. “No, don’t call. I don’t want to bother Dr. Lane with a house call. I’ll be fine by morning. I have too much to do to be laid up.” A house call would cost a fortune, she was certain. She’d known Dr. Lane all her life and knew he’d probably come out, but at what price? She hated having to keep her budget always in mind, but it was a fact of life.
“We’ll see. And hold still or you’ll have us both on the floor.” Alex continued up the stairs with Ryan just ahead of him, the boy still looking worried.
Annoyed as well as miserable, Megan glared at Alex’s implacable profile. “Hey, who put you in charge? This is my place, my—”
“Kitchen, my
B
and B. I know. I assure you it’ll be here when you feel better.”
Regardless of the indignity of being carried to her room and in spite of the incessant pain, her awareness of the man holding her so close was another unwelcome emotion, Megan noticed. His touch was firm, yet managed to be tender at the same time. She could smell no cologne on him, just the clean scent of soap and the powerful aroma of man. She didn’t need this right now, she thought as she wished with all her might that she’d watched where she was stepping.
Alex followed Ryan into Megan’s sitting room and walked through the arch into her bedroom, placing her gently on the bed. He saw her wince as he transferred her. He pulled her pillows from beneath the spread and propped them behind her, then watched her lean back and close her eyes. “Where’s your aspirin?”
“I know where it is,” Ryan announced, wanting to help. He disappeared into Megan’s bathroom and quickly came back with the aspirin bottle and a glass of water.
Alex shook two into his palm and held them out. Reluctantly, Megan downed them, although she doubted seriously if aspirin would dull this fierce aching. A sprain she could handle, but please, God, she prayed, let there be no broken bones. She couldn’t afford the time that would take to heal.
Ryan walked around the bed, then crawled on next to his mother, his face anxious. Megan reached out and took his hand. “It’s okay, Ryan. Just a minor spill.” He smiled, but the fear never left his eyes.
Grace came rushing in. “Dr. Lane said he was just finishing up an emergency patient and would be here in about half an hour.”
Megan scowled at Grace for listening to Alex instead of her, but took her friend’s hand in apology as Grace carefully placed her swollen ankle on a soft pillow.
“I’ll get an ice bag and be right back,” Grace told her.
Megan saw Alex settle in her rocker and felt like weeping.
 
Dr. Zachary Lane straightened from examining Megan’s foot. “You’re lucky, Megan. Your ankle’s swollen, but I can’t detect any broken bones. I suggest you take aspirin for the pain, alternate heat with cold compresses. When you’re resting, you can wrap it with this Ace bandage.” He reached into his black bag, having come prepared from the clinic after Grace’s call. “If you must get up, put on this air cast. It’s two plastic pieces held together with Velcro so you can remove it to bathe. It’ll help immobilize the foot and hasten healing. However, I strongly recommend that you stay off that foot for three or four days.” Noticing her scowl, he shook his head.
In his mid-sixties, Dr. Lane had been a general practitioner in the Twin Oaks area for over thirty years and had delivered Megan and both her sisters. He was well aware that she was a workaholic.
“I know that sounds like a prison sentence to you, but if you don’t follow my instructions, I guarantee it’ll take twice as long to heal and you might make it worse.”
Megan brushed her hair back with both hands. “Doctor, I appreciate your coming out on such short notice. I honestly didn’t think it was necessary—” she frowned at both Grace and Alex “—but I was outvoted.” She turned to her son who’d finally lost his worried look after hearing the doctor’s diagnosis. “Ryan, get my checkbook from the desk drawer.”
“No need,” Dr. Lane said, picking up his bag. “I’ll send you a bill.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Grace said. “I’ll walk you out. Ryan, come with me. I’ll get your dinner served before carrying up a tray for your mother.”
As soon as they left, Alex turned to her, rubbing both palms together. “All right, what do you want first, heat or cold?”
Feeling cross, the pain not easing, Megan squirmed, trying to get more comfortable without much success. “Grace will be back. Thanks for your help up the stairs.”
Her terse words were meant as a dismissal, Alex knew. But he wasn’t so easily dismissed this time. “Do you have a heating pad up here?” he asked, glancing toward a tall cupboard.
Megan heaved a huge sigh of resignation. Maybe if she let him get her the damn pad, he’d leave. “Cupboard, bottom shelf.” To keep her mind off her aching foot, she watched Alex open the cupboard and stoop down. The soft cotton of his shirt stretched across his muscular back as he searched around. She remembered how those muscles had felt beneath her roaming hands that day in the shower. Hard, strong, solid. Like the man himself was—unbending, insistent, stubborn.
Finally, he found the pad, then located the wall outlet and plugged it in. Stretching the cord, he settled the pad over her ankle before handing her the controls. “Maybe you should start off on low and work up to medium or high if it feels good.”
“It’s not going to feel good for several days.” Megan flipped the switch on low, feeling contrary and resentful that her own body had let her down.
Alex sat on the edge of the bed, sending her a tolerant look. “If you weren’t always in such an all-fired hurry, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Eyes fiery, she glared at him. “Thank you for your insight. I never would have guessed that without your help.” Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes.
“People confined to bed usually get surly. They also usually take it out on the ones trying to help them.”
Megan mentally counted to ten before responding. “I am
not
surly.”
“Uh-huh. Maybe if you got out of your clothes and put on a robe, you’d feel more relaxed. Where do you keep your robe?”
Megan’s eyes flew wide open. “None of your business, and I’m
not
undressing.” Certainly not with him in her room. Those big hands of his had already wandered over most of her body. At least she could keep his eyes at bay.
“It’s stupid to be modest when you’re bedridden.” He got up and rearranged her pillows. “Did you think I’d jump your bones while you’re relatively helpless? I may want you, honey, but I’d prefer you be completely healed first.”
Through a haze of pain from her ankle and her headache, she gazed at him. What had he said? her foggy mind wondered.
“You rest, and I’ll check on you later.”
“Just a little while,” she mumbled. “An hour, maybe two.”
Right, Alex thought as he left the room, softly closing the door.
I may want you, honey, but I’d prefer you be completely healed first.
Had she dreamed those words? Megan wondered as she closed her eyes and invited sleep.
 
Bending to load the dishes from their dinner into the dishwasher, Grace glanced up as Alex came in from emptying the trash, a chore he’d insisted on doing. Grabbing a towel, she decided it was time she and Mr. Shephard had a little talk. “I must tell you that you are without a doubt the most unusual guest we’ve had at Delaney’s since the place opened. I should know since I’ve been here almost from day one.”
He’d rather thought by the surprised look Grace had given him when he’d picked up Megan that she’d have something to say later. Because Ryan had eaten with the two of them at the kitchen table, the conversation had been lighthearted. Later was now, but he was ready for her. “Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Slowly, she dried her hands. “What exactly are you up to?”
No beating around the bush for this one, he thought, almost smiling. “Where’s Ryan?” he asked, noticing that the boy’s empty dinner plate and glass were still on the table though he was nowhere to be seen.
“I sent him up to shower. Let’s not change the subject.”
“All right, then. I’m up to nothing nefarious, I assure you.” The fact that he was in Twin Oaks under false pretenses, one his father had unwittingly initiated, wasn’t really sinister. And he was sincere about wanting to help both Megan and Ryan. But in order to do that, he needed to know more. “I’m here on business, just like I said. But as I mentioned before, I’m attracted to Megan. You’ve already warned me not to hurt her. I certainly don’t intend to. Satisfied?”
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions, I’m told.”
He acknowledged her barb with a smile. “Touché. I don’t know why both of you are so suspicious of my motives.”
“Maybe we’ve both trusted before and been burned.” She saw his gaze slide to the ring finger of her left hand. “That’s right, no rings. Divorced. Twice. Megan only once, but it was enough.”
That jolted him. “Megan divorced Neal Delaney?”
Annoyed at her big mouth, Grace tried to backtrack. “Not exactly. She filed for divorce, but then he got sick and died soon after.”
Alex decided to store that little nugget of information away for the future. “I see. So every man’s a louse because you two married guys who apparently were.”
“No, that’s not it. I date quite a lot. Still looking for Mr. Right, fairly certain he’s out there somewhere. I tell the same thing to Megan all the time. Got to kiss a lot of frogs before Prince Charming shows his face. But—and this is a big but—you seem in a real hurry to impress Megan, and I’ve never trusted fast.”

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