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Authors: Pat Warren

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BOOK: Stand-In Father (Intimate Moments)

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Ryan would love it.

The three of them were having a serious discussion at the dinner table in the kitchen. Ryan had the floor. “I don’t know why I can’t have a kitten. I’d take care of it and make sure it didn’t bother anybody. Kids should have pets, don’t you think?” he asked, sending a plea in Alex’s direction.

Alex gathered from the long-suffering look on Grace’s face that this was an old argument. “Whenever possible, sure. I always wanted a dog, but I couldn’t have one, either.”

“You grew up in a house that had guests all the time, too?” Ryan wanted to know.

“No, but remember I told you I had asthma? And also, my mother was allergic to animals. Being around them made it hard for her to breathe.” Then after his mother died and Maddy came to live with them, she had only one irreversible rule: She wouldn’t take care of any house pets, even if Alex could have tolerated one by then. Alex remembered how crushed he and Patrick had been. “I know it’s hard, Ryan, but maybe one day, things will change.”

The boy set down his chicken leg, looking woebegone. “Yeah, that’s what Mom says. But I want one now. Bobby’s family has
two
pets. A dog
and
a cat.”

“Yes, but does Bobby’s mom bake fresh cookies every day?” Grace wanted to know as she cleared away his plate, then set the cookie jar on the table.

“I guess not,” Ryan conceded, taking a chocolaty bite.

“And,” Alex joined in, “does Bobby get a present even when it’s not his birthday just because he’s a terrific kid?” He reached for the paper bag he’d set under his chair earlier and placed it in front of Ryan. Some would say he was spoiling the boy. But not Alex. The kid had no father, a mother temporarily out of commission and he lived with a houseful of strangers. He deserved a treat now and then.

“Wow, for me?” The kittens and dogs forgotten, Ryan scrambled up on his knees.

“Well, I don’t think it’s for me,” Grace said, sitting back down after clearing. Instead of watching Ryan, she kept her eyes on Alex as the child ripped open the package. The man was as excited as the boy, she decided.

“Hey, look! A convertible almost like yours, Alex.”

“Not quite. It’s a ’65 Austin Healy. Think you can put it together?”

“You bet.” He jumped down from the chair and leaned into Alex, giving him a spontaneous hug.

The small body smelling of chocolate nestled against him evoked a response in Alex he hadn’t been expecting. Mitch’s kids had been taught to shake hands, not embrace. The open, unrehearsed sincerity of the boy jolted him. He was thoroughly unprepared to like much less honestly enjoy the hug. Yet there it was.

Not realizing something momentous had happened, Ryan chewed his cookie while he studied the model car’s box. “Maybe we could start it tonight.”

Grace glanced up at the kitchen clock. “Not tonight. It’s time for your shower. Oh, wait. What about your homework?” She’d been so busy with the baking that she’d wanted to finish early plus making dinner that she’d forgotten his schoolwork.

“It’s all done. Alex helped me.” He started for the stairs. “Can I show Mom my car?”

“Sure.” Grace had taken Megan’s dinner tray up earlier and found her reading a novel after having finished the entire basket of mending. Her unexpected injury had a couple of benefits, Grace decided. Megan was getting rested and the mending was finished. Another was that she had an opportunity to probe a little into the mystery that was Alex Shephard.

“Okay.” Footsteps pounding, he trudged up.

Grace seized her chance. “You’re good with the boy, Alex, but you’re spoiling him something terrible.” She had to tell it like she saw it. “How are we going to handle him after you leave?”

After you leave. Funny, Alex didn’t want to think about that just now. The land deal wasn’t firmed up yet and he still had things to resolve about the Delaneys. Perhaps Grace could supply a few answers.

“Kids should be spoiled. They’re not kids very long. Besides, I’m going to be around for a while yet.” He carried glasses to the dishwasher and began loading them, wondering how best to get some information from Megan’s closest friend. Finally, he decided just to come out with it. “Grace,” he began, turning to her, “I’m curious about something. Didn’t Neal Delaney carry any life insurance?” He already knew the answer to that one, but he wanted to hear what she had to say. No one was closer to Megan than Grace.

Shoving a hairpin into her thick hair, Grace snorted. “Oh, yeah, he sure did. Over a quarter of a million bucks.”

So far, so good. “If that’s so, where’d the money go? I mean with that much in hand, why would Megan be in financial difficulties not even a year later?”

“Good question.” Grace ran hot water into the frying pan, her movements choppy, angry. “If only Neal were here, we could ask him.”

Alex wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean?”

Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she swung about. Bitterness oozed from every word. “I mean the creep had borrowed on every policy to the max, even the one his parents had bought and paid for when he was just a child. There was only enough money to pay off the loan shark.”

Alex’s face registered shocked surprise. “Loan shark?”

“You heard right. A slimeball from L.A. that Neal borrowed from to finance his high living. Scared Megan half to death when she found out. She was terrified that the man would somehow harm Ryan. Oh, you don’t want to get me going on all the things that that man did. The list is longer than a dead snake.”

Perhaps Megan wouldn’t like Alex knowing such personal stuff, Grace thought, but why not? If it was up to Grace, she’d take out a billboard and let the world know what a heel Neal Delaney had been. Megan wanted to shield Ryan, so the boy wouldn’t know the truth about his father. Grace didn’t agree. The truth had an uncanny way of getting out, and Ryan had already asked some sticky questions. It was a shame to shatter the illusions of childhood, but wasn’t it worse to fill his head full of lies?

So that was it, Alex thought. He’d begun to suspect that Neal had been the spendthrift, but he hadn’t been certain. Still, could he have spent that much? “A quarter of a million is a lot of money.”

“Well, the amount of the cash value of the policies wasn’t as much as Megan would have received if Neal hadn’t borrowed against them before he died, naturally. He got maybe half the total face value. Still a good chunk, probably a hundred twenty or thirty thousand. What did he do with all that money? Spent it on crazy things he had no business buying. A fancy boat, a spiffy sports car. Ran with a fast crowd—gamblers, drinkers, hangers-on. Everyone loves a guy who always picks up the check. And all the while, Megan’s here trying to make ends meet and trying to keep Ryan from knowing what his father was really like.”

She hadn’t wanted the truth to get out to protect Ryan. That figured. “I guess she sold his expensive toys after he died. Did she get anything for them at least?”

“Not a cent. He’d made exactly two payments on that boat, so Megan just signed it over to the lender. The sports car was in the process of being repossessed when Neal died.” Turning back to the sink, she scrubbed viciously at the pan. “You don’t want to get me started on Neal Delaney unless you’ve got all night.”

Actually, he did have all night. But he had to wonder why Grace was so willingly telling him this now when earlier she’d been so reticent. “Did you finally decide you can trust me?” he asked, walking over and picking up the dish towel.

She shrugged. “Partly. The other part is I kind of got the feeling with all the questions you’ve been asking about Megan that you had this notion that she’s hiding something.” She looked up at him. “She is. The truth, which is that Neal hurt her in every way it’s possible for a man to hurt a woman. He deceived her royally and I’m not sure she’ll ever get over it. I thought I’d tell you the truth before you put two and two together and came up with five. The financial mess Megan’s in right now is all due to Neal.”

“Why’d she stay married to him so long?”

Grace sighed. “She had nowhere else to go. Her mother’s barely getting by herself, her two sisters are unmarried and still living at home, sometimes working, sometimes not. So Megan toughed it out. That’s why I don’t want you thinking bad things about her because she’s the sweetest, the kindest, the most honest—”

It was then that they heard a loud crash coming from the direction of the top floor.

Chapter 7

B
y the time Alex reached the second floor, he could hear the frightened wail of a young boy. Two steps at a time, his long legs scaled the stairs, not stopping until he was halfway down the third-floor hall. There was Ryan pinned under a rolling television stand, the TV on its side on the wood floor and Megan in her skimpy nightie standing on one foot, trying to right the cart to free him.

“Here, let me,” he said, moving in as Grace arrived, stepping in to steady Megan. “Ryan, you all right?” Alex asked.

“I think so,” a wobbly voice replied.

“Oh, God, Ryan,” Megan whispered, moving aside to give Alex room.

Grace squeezed her friend’s arm. “He’s all right, so don’t you worry.”

Alex saw that the cord from the portable television set had gotten tangled in the wheels of the stand, causing it to topple. “Hold on,” he told the frightened boy. Grunting, he picked up the TV and shifted it to a clear spot, then pulled the two-tiered stand off Ryan.

He quickly scrambled up and ran into his mother’s arms. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Now that he was safe, she relaxed, hugging him to her as she leaned against the wall. “Are you hurt? Let me see.” Easing back from him, she checked him over, pulling up the pant legs of his Tasmanian devil pajamas, then the sleeves. “You might have a bruise on your elbow later from when you hit the floor.” She framed his tear-streaked face in both her hands. “Whatever were you doing?”

Ryan sniffled loudly. “I thought you looked lonely, so I was taking my TV into your room so you could watch it.” He turned away. looking toward Alex who’d placed the set back on the stand. “Did I break it?”

“I don’t think so,” Alex told him. “I think one of the wheels on the cart is bent, but that’s simple enough to fix.” He eyed the small fry. “Next time you get the urge to move furniture, sport, maybe you should call me, eh?”

Glad no one was yelling at him, gladder still that his TV wasn’t broken, Ryan nodded. “Okay,” he agreed in a small voice.

“It was a lovely thought, sweetie,” Megan said now that her heartbeat had normalized, “but let’s leave the TV in your room. I’m not really in the mood to watch anything tonight.”

“But when I peeked in, you looked so lonesome.”

Megan smiled at his soft little heart. “I am, a little. Why don’t you come in and talk to me for a little while before lights-out, okay? You’re much better than TV.”

Swiping at his cheeks, embarrassed that he’d been scared enough to cry in front of Alex, Ryan nodded and allowed her to lead him into her bedroom with Grace’s assistance.

“Would you mind putting that back in Ryan’s room, Alex?” she asked over her shoulder.

He looked up from the cord he’d been winding, a look of exaggerated shock on his face. “What’s this, Ms. Delaney? You’re actually asking for help with something? You must have developed a fever.”

“You’re quite the comedian,” she said, but she smiled.

After several minutes, Grace returned, releasing a relieved sigh. “That boy just put a dozen new gray hairs on my poor little head.”

“You’d be gorgeous bald, Grace, and you know it,” Alex told her as he wheeled the stand and set into Ryan’s room. Maneuvering it into the empty spot beneath the Michael Jordan poster he’d hung for Ryan, he bent to plug it in. Then, because he knew Ryan would want to know, he turned it on for a test run. Sure enough, the picture came on, the colors nice and bright and the sound fine. “A good, sturdy set,” he told Grace, shutting it off.

“It’s not even a year old. Megan sold Neal’s gold watch and bought this for Ryan shortly after the funeral. The only other television’s down in the community room and most of our guests don’t turn on children’s shows. She felt he needed something in his room.”

“I agree.” He shook his head in wonder. “Imagine, he thought she looked lonely.”

Grace studied him up close for a long minute.

He caught her and frowned. “What?”

“You’re falling for the two of them, aren’t you, Mr. Magic Man? And I’d bet my best cubic zirconia that you surely hadn’t planned on that happening.”

“Who, me?” Alex shook his head emphatically. “No, ma’am. Like you, I’ve already struck out in the marriage game. I travel single-o and I like it that way.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, walking out of Ryan’s room. “If I was a betting woman, I’d sure bet the farm on this one.” And what’s more, Grace wasn’t absolutely convinced she approved.

Stretching his long legs, Alex walked up the hill behind the Delaney house, climbing slowly, his eyes on the ground. The grass was scraggly here, peppered with stones both smooth and sharp nestled among the wildflowers. Manzanita grew wild along one side and there were patches of poison oak. He recognized wild lupine looking silvery in the spotty moonlight, and even creosote. Hardly noticing, he strolled on.

Finally, he reached the edge of the cliff and gingerly sat down on the ledge made by a large flat rock. It was quiet except for the furtive scramblings of a few furry creatures. No birdsongs tonight, not even a cricket serenade. If he listened carefully, he could hear ocean waves in the distance rolling into shore with a rush, then being sucked back out to sea. He caught the scent of salt in the night air.

He’d come out here because he needed some distance. He felt a little like a fish who’d been struggling on the line for a long while, thinking he was winning the battle only to be slowly reeled in after all. Down there at that house, for days now, he’d been pulled in emotionally. For all his travels, his many adventures, he’d never experienced anything like it.

He’d set out on a mission—to make sure what remained of the Delaney family was handling things well, financially and otherwise. Not altogether altruistically, but to ease his conscience. And he’d found more than he’d bargained for.

He’d found a woman who’d had a difficult childhood, a disappointing marriage, and who was still having a rough go of it. Yet she never complained. She operated a business that drew repeat customers because of her generous nature and a marvelous flair for cooking and because she made them all feel welcome and at home. Let’s not forget that she kissed like every man’s dream. A woman a man so inclined could easily love.

Then there was the boy. Eager to learn, anxious to please, with a mischievous grin and a laugh that could warm the coldest of hearts. The boy who looked at him with trust and admiration, with worship in his deep blue eyes, who made him feel ten feet tall. No one had ever looked at Alex like that before. The kind of boy who had him wondering if he could live up to the kid’s expectations. A boy a man could learn to love without half trying.

But he kept coming back to one thing. He wasn’t in the market. Not for a woman or a boy or the family they represented. Oh, he might be inclined to linger a while, coax the woman into bed, be a stand-in father to the kid until he had a handle on the guy things every boy needed to know. He’d enjoy them, write a few checks to further ease his conscience, then go back to his carefree, uncomplicated single life. He was good at being single. A man should do what he’s good at.

Alex swallowed around a bitter lump in his throat at the mental assessment he’d just made of himself. Not very pretty. Not really a stand-up guy. Not a hell of a lot better than the about-to-be ex-husband who’d died.

How was it that after less than two weeks here, he viewed his life before this trip with a somewhat jaundiced eye? What was wrong here? What had changed? He didn’t want what Megan and Ryan might offer him because he was happy with his life the way it had been before his illness, before the surgery. He didn’t want a family, a commitment to one woman for the rest of his life, a child, possibly more. Hadn’t he already divorced one woman who’d wanted to have that kind of life with him? He’d run fast and furiously from Cynthia because he’d told himself he needed to be free.

Look at his mother, struck down in her thirties by a fatal illness, missing out on so much. And Patrick, so young, having experienced so little. Alex had learned from their deaths that life was awfully damn short and that, although work was important, you’d better have some fun because no one knew what was around that next corner. There was so much he hadn’t tried yet, done yet. How could he pursue an adventurous lifestyle tied to a family?

But wait. Alex shifted, stretching out his legs. Whatever made him think Megan would want him anyway?
He deceived her royally and I’m not sure she’ll ever get over it.
That’s what Grace had told him about Neal’s relationship with Megan. She’d been hurt, betrayed, disappointed. What would she say when she learned, as surely she must, that his being here was also a deception?

Just when she was beginning to trust a little, how could he destroy her a second time? Yet, if he was to stay much longer, how could he not tell her? He’d only wanted to help, yet he’d made a mess of things.

Slowly, he got to his feet. He hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, yet maybe he already had. With a heavy heart, Alex started back.

“Okay now, I’ll hold the nail and you hammer it in. Watch that you don’t hit your fingers. Or mine, for that matter.” Alex shoved the corner board into place, then positioned the nail. “Now.”

His face a study in concentration, tongue in the corner of his mouth, Ryan lifted the hammer with both hands and brought it down. Only he missed the nail by about an inch. “Phooey!”

“Try again,” Alex advised, exhibiting more patience than he’d thought he had. Ever since Ryan had come home from school, they’d been working on the tree-house floor in the grass of the backyard for nearly two hours and they were nearly finished. The fun is in the doing, not just in the finished product, he reminded himself. The purpose was to teach Ryan some guy things. Again, he positioned the nail.

Ryan swiveled the baseball hat on his head until the bill was in the back, then raised the hammer again. To his surprise and enormous pleasure, he hit the head dead center. He flashed a grin to Alex. “I did it!”

“You sure did. Now keep going. We’ve got to bury that nail.” Alex made sure the nail had caught before removing his hand.

The boy pounded three more times, then gave a final smack for good measure. The nail was firmly in place. “Hey, this is fun.”

Alex had done the preliminary nailing, showing Ryan how, then finally turning that chore over to him. “I knew you’d like it. We need to put another one at the other end to make sure the board holds.” Shifting, he positioned another nail. “Go to it.”

Ryan raised the hammer.

“What on earth are you two doing?” Megan asked, coming onto the scene as she stepped out the back door.

Startled, Ryan dropped the hammer. The business end landed on Alex’s hand. He yelped in pain. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Ryan said, bending over to see what damage he’d done.

Alex scowled at Megan. “What are you doing walking?”

Wearing her air cast, Megan hobbled over to them, taking care on the uneven grass. “I can’t spend the rest of my days with my foot elevated. I’m fine. What, may I ask, are you two building?”

“A tree house,” Ryan explained, a wide smile on his face.

“I see.” It was Megan’s turn to scowl, and she aimed it at Alex. “I thought we had an understanding that you and I would talk things over before they were brought up to the
c-h-i-l-d?”

Sitting on the grass, Alex’s smile was sheepish. “I didn’t want to bother you when you weren’t feeling up to par. We were going to tell you as soon as we finished the floor.”

“I know what word you spelled, Mom,” Ryan said, pleased to have caught on. “Child. What child?”

With her free hand, Megan swiveled his hat around. “You, silly. You’re the child, I’m the mom.” She turned her blue eyes to Alex. “The one who approves all of the child’s projects.”

Obviously, she was feeling better since she was back to feisty, Alex thought. She’d lost that pained look. She was wearing a long T-shirt that came almost to the edge of her shorts. At the sight of those incredible legs, Alex had trouble keeping his mind on the current project and their conversation.

Pointedly, he glanced at the small pile of lumber pieces, then up at her. “All right, we can break it up and quit if you like.”

“Ah, Mom, no!” Ryan was heartbroken. “We were going to move it up into that bald spot in the tree over there.” He pointed at the chosen location. “Please, can we?”

The onus was on her, yet how could she shatter the boy’s dream now that they’d begun? Narrowing her eyes, she saw that Alex was aware of her dilemma. Megan studied the old tree, wondering if it would hold both the weight of the wooden structure and her son. Something else to worry about. “How are you going to get up and down?”

“Alex is going to help me build climbing steps up.” Ryan shuffled his feet in nervous excitement.

“I realize you’re in construction,” she told Alex, “but is this thing going to be sturdy enough?”

“Absolutely. Shephard Construction guarantees every job.” He grinned boyishly.

“All right, I guess I’m outnumbered yet again.” Her tone seemed to imply that she was running out of patience with his backhanded maneuverings.

BOOK: Stand-In Father (Intimate Moments)

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