Читать книгу Marriage By Necessity - Marisa Carroll, Marisa Carroll - Страница 10

NATE STARED at his reflection in the rechromed headlight of the Indian as he wiped a smudged fingerprint off the shiny surface. He looked like hell. He hoped it was only from the distortion of the metal and not evidence of another week of sleepless nights. He’d always prided himself on being able to sleep through anything, including mortar attacks, and the midnight shift change in a busy military hospital. But he was wrong. He’d found something that could keep him awake for hours, even though it was no louder than the sound of someone breathing. Sarah’s breathing, soft and even, in the room just down the hall.

He’d probably get more sleep if he bunked down out here on the lumpy old futon Joann had foisted on him after her last garage sale.

Hell, why was he thinking of bedtime? The sun wasn’t even down yet.

He looked at his watch. “Damn.” He was supposed to pick Matty up half an hour ago, but he’d been so focused on the restoration he’d lost track of time. Some kind of father he was turning out to be. He grabbed a jacket and headed out the door just as his sisters and their assorted offspring tumbled out of Tessa’s van.

Or to be more precise, the kids tumbled out of the van. Ty, Joann’s almost-nine-year-old, turned back to help unfasten Becca from her car seat while Matty, already released from his safety seat, raced across the parking lot only a step or two behind seven-year-old Jack. Joann strolled along in the kids’ wake while Tessa and her impressive belly brought up the rear. Both of his sisters were tall women with round, pretty features. Joann was blond and built along the same generous lines as their mother while Tessa, when she wasn’t pregnant, had the thinner build and red-gold hair that came from the Fowler side of the family.

“Hi, Nate.” Jack and Matty came skidding to a halt in front of him. “Can we see the bike? Is it done? Can I ride it yet?”

“No, it isn’t done. But I’ve got the gas tank back on, and the handlebars. It’s beginning to look like a real bike again. Go ahead, take a look. But don’t try to climb up on it.” Jack had been clambering on anything that would hold still, and a few things that wouldn’t, since he was about six months old.

His nephew made a face. “I know better than that,” he said, but his eyes didn’t quite meet Nate’s, so Nate knew he’d been planning to do exactly that.

“C’mon, Matty. Let’s go.”

Matty held back. “I want to see my mom.” He looked up at Nate with hopeful eyes.

“She’s taking a nap,” Nate informed him. “We’ll go wake her up in just a little while. Where’d you get that hat?” It was a navy blue ball cap with a big gold block M on the front.

“From Jack.”

“My dad said Matty needed to get with the program so I gave him my hat. It’s too little for me anyway.” Gus Westin, Joann’s husband, was the science teacher at the local junior high, and a former third-string kicker for Michigan. Jack was the spitting image of his father—dark-haired, small-boned and wiry tough. He wasn’t all that much bigger than Sarah’s son and still young enough to play with Matty so they got along well.

Nate patted Matty on top of the head. “Looks good on you, buddy.”

Matty reached up and pulled on the brim. “I like it.”

“Let’s go,” Jack urged. Dark-haired Ty, who had a leaner build than his brother, let go of Becca’s hand and took Matty’s.

“C’mon. I’ll go with you.”

“Keep your eye on him,” Joann admonished her firstborn. “And your brother.”

“I will.” The three boys took off for the barn leaving Nate with the girls.

“Hi, Unca’ Nate,” Becca chirped. “We’re going shopping, wanna come along?”

“Hi, Becca Boo.” The little girl held up her arms to be lifted for a hug and a kiss. He found himself wishing that Matty would do the same, but so far the little boy hadn’t initiated any hugs. Patience, he told himself, it had only been a couple of weeks—it took time to earn a kid’s trust, especially a little one who’d had been through the kind of upheaval Matty had.

“I’m sorry, sis. I lost track of time.” Nate directed his apology to Tessa, who had plunked herself down on the retaining wall that jutted out from the front corner of the barn, puffing slightly, her hand on her distended stomach.

“No, problem. We’re just heading into Adrian to get some groceries and some more trick-or-treat candy.” Adrian was the nearest large town.

“The boys found my hiding place,” Joann explained with a shake of her head as Nate set Becca on the low stone wall beside her mother. “I’m going to put this batch in the safe-deposit box at the bank.” Joann was the loan officer at a bank in Hillsdale, in the next county, and Nate had no doubt she’d be at least a vice president there one day.

“We can take Matty with us, if you’d like,” Tessa offered after a slight hesitation and an exchange of glances with Joann. “I imagine Sarah’s pretty worn-out.”

Nate knew his sisters were genuinely happy that Sarah had survived the surgery, but he was also fully aware they had reservations, for his sake, not only about the remarriage, but also about Sarah remaining in his home. Tessa, who had been closest to Sarah in the past, would take her cue from him. Joann, like their mother, was not as softhearted, nor as easygoing. She had always liked Sarah, but she had also been more outspoken in her anger when they divorced. She was fiercely loyal to her family and Nate suspected it would take time for her to forgive and forget.

“That’s okay. You guys have been lifesavers this past couple of weeks. He’ll be fine with me. I’m sure Sarah will be waking up from her nap soon. You’re right, she was exhausted after her therapy session.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Great. Nearly all the feeling’s back in her hands and fingers. Her leg’s coming along, too, just a little more slowly.”

“Good,” Tessa responded with a smile, and Joann nodded her agreement.

“Want us to bring you back takeout for dinner?”

“Thanks for offering, but I’ve got baked steak in the oven.”

“With mashed potatoes and gravy?”

“Of course.” He grinned as Joann rolled her eyes heavenward and sighed.

“Lord, I hate these low-carb diets. I’d give up my stock options for mashed potatoes and gravy!”

“Umm,” Tessa seconded.

Nate did some quick figuring in his head. “You’re welcome to stay. I think we can make it stretch if I stir up some macaroni and cheese for the kids.”

Joann sighed again. “Thanks for offering but we promised the kids pizza, and I’m bound and deter mined to stick to this diet. I’ve gained five pounds in the last couple of weeks and I swear I haven’t cheated once. It’s the damned salad bar for me.”

Nate grinned. “Man, that’s hardship duty, sis.

Watching those two eating machines, Ty and Jack, chow down on pizza while you’re grazing through the spinach and sprouts.”

“Hey, that’s hitting below the belt.” Joann made a face and stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “Just for that you can make your four-cheese, sour cream potato casserole with the crushed potato-chip topping for the pumpkin smashing party Saturday.” Joann slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oohh, what made me say that? Now I’ll be dreaming about the darned thing for the next three days.”

The “Saturday After Halloween Jack-O-Lantern Smashing Party” was one of his sisters’newest “family traditions,” the one they sandwiched between the Labor Day water-ski exhibition, and the chili cookoff that preceded the Ohio State/Michigan game the Saturday before Thanksgiving—when they really ratcheted up the entertaining schedule.

“You know, Joann,” Tessa said slyly, wrapping her arms around Becca’s shoulders and nuzzling the top of her head, “the last time you obsessed about potatoes you were pregnant with Jack.”

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did,” Nate said, surprised that he remembered, babies and pregnancies never having been a high priority for him in the old days. “I was home on leave then.” Just weeks before he met Sarah. “You ate them morning, noon and night. Boiled, fried, mashed, baked and raw. I remember thinking it was the weirdest pregnancy craving I’d ever heard of.”

“It’s impossible.” Joann’s eyes were big as saucers but she didn’t sound quite as certain as she had before. “Gus and I haven’t even thought about another baby. I mean not seriously.” Her words drifted off into horrified silence. “There was that one night last month when the boys were sleeping over at Mom and Dad’s and the con—” She colored and changed the subject. “No way,” she said, then in a strangled voice, “What’s the date?”

Tessa laughed and stood up, lifting Becca down off the wall. “It’s the twenty-ninth. How late are you?”

Joann swallowed hard. “Not much, not really… Oh, hell…”

“Looks like we need to add an EPT kit to the shopping list.”

“It’s not funny,” Joann wailed. “I don’t even keep track anymore. What’s Gus going to say?” She blew her bangs back off her forehead. “I’m thirty three years old. I’m too old for another baby. Maybe it’s early menopause?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tessa scolded. “You’re way too young to be starting menopause. I think you’re pregnant. It’s something I can sense. You know, like calling to like.” She pointed down at her bulging stomach. “And if you are pregnant, you’ll be thrilled as soon as you get used to the idea. You know Gus has always wanted a little girl.”

Becca had been taking it all in. Standing on tiptoe she reached up and patted Tessa’s stomach. “I want a little girl, too.”

“Our baby’s a boy,” Tessa explained patiently for what Nate guessed must be the hundredth time, while Joann fumbled through her coat pocket for a tissue.

“Jack will trade me for it,” she pronounced, nodding so hard her pigtails bounced up and down. “You’ll trade us babies won’t you A’nt Joann.”

“I’m not having a—” Joann stopped in midsentence. Looking past Nate’s left shoulder she said, “Hello, Sarah.”

“Hi, Joann. Tessa, hello.” Sarah was making her way carefully toward them. She wasn’t wearing the neck brace anymore, although Nate wished she would when she walked on the uneven ground around the barn, but didn’t say so. Sarah had made it clear enough over the last week that she wasn’t going to play the invalid any longer than necessary.

“Hi, Sarah.”

“Hi,” Becca piped up. “Matty’s in the barn.”

“Is he? I’ll have to go get him. I’ve been missing him.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her lightweight cotton jacket and smiled tentatively at Joann and Tessa. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“No, of course not. We were just checking to see if Nate needed anything from Wal-Mart. We’re on our way there for a last minute trick-or-treat run.”

“Do you have enough candy, Nate?” Sarah asked him. “I’d be happy to contribute some if Tessa and Joann could pick it up for me.”

“I’ve got plenty. We’re too far off the beaten track up here to get more than a few trick-or-treaters.”

“Just turn off your porch light if you run out,” Tessa suggested. “That’s pretty much the universal signal for ‘no candy.’”

“Got that, Sarah? Blackout conditions are to be put into effect when you run out of ammunition,” Nate said with a grin. “I’m taking Matty out in his Shrek costume and Sarah’s staying here to hold down the fort.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking Matty trick-or-treating.”

“You might miss your footing in the dark,” Tessa said. “You wouldn’t want to take a tumble.”

“That’s why she’s staying here and passing out candy.” Nate heard his old sergeant’s voice coming out of his mouth but he didn’t care.

Sarah didn’t challenge him as he half expected her to. Instead she changed the subject. “I want to thank you both for watching over Matty these last two weeks. I appreciate it very much.”

“We’re glad to help out,” Joann said. “I’ll go get the boys. We should be on our way.” She hurried toward the workshop door without a backward glance.

“We really do need to be heading out,” Tessa said to explain her sister’s abrupt departure. “I want to stop and ask Grandpa if he needs anything on the way, and Ty has a spelling test to study for.”

“Of course,” Sarah said with another smile, but Nate could see Joann’s coolness bothered her.

Thirty seconds later the boys came charging out of the barn followed by Matty and Nate’s sister. “See, I told you she was right here,” Joann said, giving him a little push forward.

“Mama.” He wrapped both arms around Sarah’s leg and held her tight. “I’m home.”

“I see that. I missed you.” She hugged him back.

“I got a new hat,” he said, leaning back so that she could admire the ball cap. “Jack gave it to me.”

“I like it.”

“We’ll see you Saturday,” Tessa called over her shoulder. “We’ll be over early to sweep the barn and set up the tables.”

“Gus and his students will be here around three to unload the trebuchet,” Joann reminded him. “I hope the rain holds off until after dark.”

“It will,” Nate said under his breath so that only Sarah could hear. “There isn’t a rain cloud in this state that would dare unload on one of my sisters’ parties.”

“I’ve never heard of a trebuchet,” Sarah said as they watched Tessa back the van around and head back down the hill to Harm’s place. “What is it and what does it have to do with Halloween?”

“Absolutely nothing to do with Halloween. It’s a medieval war machine. Kind of a cross between a catapult and a sling shot.” Nate held open the door of the low-ceilinged workshop for her and Matty.

“Is that what they’re called? They used them in the battle of Helm’s Deep in The Two Towers,” Sarah said, with a grin. “I watched it the other day.” She rested her left elbow on her right hand and made a flinging motion. “The bad guys were lobbing severed heads over the wall.”

“The severed head lobbing was in The Return of the King. The bad guys were using catapults. The good guys were flinging back huge pieces of stone. And they were using trebuchets.”

“I’ll have to watch the whole thing again to get it straight in my head. Did your sisters get the idea for the pumpkin smashing party from the movies?”

“I don’t think so. It’s been going on since Gus’s science club built the darn thing and they needed ammunition that was cheap and that wouldn’t cause fatal injuries. Joann suggested jack-o’-lanterns after she read about some place back east that does it every year with intact pumpkins, and the rest is Riley’s Cove history.”

“Sounds like fun. Your sisters are good at things like that. I remember the Fourth of July celebration when you were home on leave the summer after we were married. Toasted marshmallows, hot dogs and potato salad, homemade ice cream—the whole nine yards. And the fireworks were great. I’d never been to a party like that before.” There wasn’t a trace of self-pity in her voice, no bitterness for her hand-to-mouth childhood.

“I imagine this one will measure up.”

“This is your first?” she asked, as she made her way to the half-finished cycle. She moved carefully, he noticed, her right leg dragging slightly, an indication of how tired she still must be even after her nap.

“Yep.” He picked up a shop rag and squatted down to clean up an oil spill from the concrete floor. He didn’t want her or Matty to take a tumble here, or anyplace else. “Last year I was in the hospital having the pins taken out of my ankle and before that, I was in Iraq. I got some of the artillery guys in the unit to e-mail Gus pointers on range and elevation, though, and they got a kick out of the pictures Joann sent back. Evidently a well-built trebuchet can get a lot of splat out of a past-its-prime jack-o’-lantern.” He stood up and grabbed a handful of wrenches and screwdrivers he’d left lying on the tool bench.

“Would you prefer Matty and I not come down here for the party?” she asked quietly.

He dropped the tools in a drawer and shut it before turning around. Sarah had her back to him, looking down at the Indian, her fingers tracing the elegant curve of the chrome handlebars.

“Why would you think that?”

She darted a look at Matty, who was playing with a toy motorcycle Arlene had bought for him in the hospital gift shop the day after Sarah’s surgery. He was running it up and down the seat of Joann’s lumpy old futon, turning it into a motocross course, making engine noises and paying them no attention whatsoever.

“Your sisters aren’t comfortable with me around, we both know it. Your mother, too, for that matter, although she’s been trying her best to hide it. You’ll have friends here, neighbors. People who will be wondering about our marriage. It’s awkward for you, for your sisters. For all of us.”

“So your solution is to hide out in the trailer?”

She lifted her head. “It wouldn’t be hiding out. I just thought the less they see of me the easier I’ll be forgotten when Matty and I leave.”

“You’ve never been easy to forget, Sarah,” he said quietly.

What little color the cold October air had brought to her cheeks faded away. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut but the words had seemed to leap past his tongue before he could stop them. She turned back to the motorcycle again. “You know what I mean, Nate.”

He hooked his welding helmet onto a nail on the wall. “Come to the party, Sarah. I think I can handle the scrutiny.” He wondered if he should tell her about Kaylene Jensen. She was a friend of Joann’s from the bank. His friend, too, he supposed. They’d dated off and on, shared some good times, but it had never been serious, at least not on his part. He decided to keep the information to himself—after all, they hadn’t seen each other since the middle of summer. It would probably just make Sarah more determined than ever to stay holed up in the trailer if she knew his old girlfriend was coming to the party.

“Mommy, let’s go. I’m hungry.” Matty had tired of the motorcycle and thrown it down on the futon. “Carry me,” he pleaded, holding up his hands.