Stand-In Mum. Marie Ferrarella

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter One

      “Oh, my God, Sydney, just look at you!”

      There was very little that could catch Marta Jensen off guard. Until this moment, she would have felt safe in saying that after teaching overenergized nine-year-olds for the last three years at Alderwood School, there was nothing that could surprise her enough to cause her mouth to drop open like a slow-witted cartoon character.

      But seeing her best friend since college in her seventh month of pregnancy, looking as if she’d swallowed not one but possibly two beach balls, negated that. Marta stared, in wonder and in glee, all without consciously being aware that she was doing it.

      The carry-on suitcase she’d toted down with her slipped from Marta’s fingers, landing with a thud on the floor and just barely missing contact with her toes, as she flung her arms around Sydney Elliot.

      Sydney Kerrigan now, Marta mentally amended, blinking back tears of pure delight and joy, something else she hadn’t thought she was capable of. But she’d missed this dear, wonderful friend, missed her with a passion she seldom allowed herself to feel. It had been much too long since she had seen her.

      And was there a lot to see now, she thought, as Sydney’s belly pressed against her in a hug.

      “Sydney, wow,” was all she could manage. It was one thing to intellectually know that Sydney was pregnant; it was another to see it for herself. Sydney had sent long, glowing letters about her life and her condition, but nothing took the place of actually seeing her best friend rounded out with child.

      Marta sucked in her breath as Sydney’s baby gave her a swift kick.

      Laughing, sniffling, Marta stood back just enough to get another look at Sydney. Amazement hung on tenaciously. Sydney, pregnant. Sydney, a mother.

      Well, she was already that, Marta reminded herself, thanks to the two children Shayne and his late wife had had. But still, it was going to take an awful lot of getting used to for her.

      Marta kept her hands laced through both of Sydney’s, as if afraid that if she lost that contact, Sydney would just disappear. She’d missed her a great deal this last year, so much more than even she would have thought. Outwardly gregarious, Marta had learned long ago not to make any attachments. Too many people had come and gone from her life.

      But Sydney had been different. Sydney had been like the sister she’d always wanted. The family she’d never had. That was why she’d abruptly decided to make use of the break that the year-round school where she taught, with its eight-weeks-on, two-weeks-off schedule offered, conquer her fear of flying and come out to see Sydney. She hadn’t quite managed to conquer the fear, but seeing Sydney had been worth enduring the unsettling, panicky feeling that had accompanied her all the way from Omaha.

      It was still hard for her to assimilate. Marta had only recently gotten herself to believe and accept that over a year ago solid, steadfast Sydney had actually uprooted her life, sold off most of her possessions and come out to Alaska. To a town that could easily have fit into any corner of any one of Omaha’s myriad of neighborhoods, and done it with room to spare. And now she was the wife and assistant of the only doctor for a hundred miles.

      Maybe it shouldn’t be so hard to assimilate, Marta mused. A year ago Sydney had made up her mind to start a new life somewhere else, and Sydney had always known what she wanted.

      Sydney had always had purpose, direction. Unlike me, Marta thought ruefully.

      Her eyes swept over her friend. Nearly seven months pregnant, Sydney carried her unborn child with the same grace that she carried herself. Tears persisted in gathering, smarting Marta’s eyes.

      This was silly. Tears were for sadness, and this was a happy time. Marta blinked them away and shook her head in wonder. “I’m sorry, I still can’t believe you’re pregnant.”

      Sydney laughed. “What, that kick didn’t convince you?” Slipping one hand from Marta’s, Sydney placed it over her swollen belly. “Whoever is in there is going to be born alert and running. I’ve got enough activity going on inside me for two babies.”

      Marta grasped Sydney’s hand again, her eyes wide. “You’re not carrying—”

      “No.” The denial was quick, firm and accompanied with just a slight shudder. “Shayne says there’s only one unruly occupant in there.” Grinning at the chilling, mixed blessing of a multiple birth, Sydney rolled her eyes. “Please, I’ve got my hands full with Sara and Mac. Two new babies would be more than I think I could sanely handle.”

      Sydney always underestimated herself, Marta thought. She was thoroughly convinced that Sydney could handle anything that life threw her way. Sydney had already proved that twice over, bouncing back from not one failed relationship, but two.

      Too bad bouncing back wasn’t contagious, Marta thought before firmly dismissing the subject. She was here to enjoy her visit with Sydney, however brief, to catch up on Sydney’s life here, not dwell on her own past.

      “That’s why I’m here,” Marta reminded her. “To help you ‘handle’ as much as I can in the next two weeks. And now that I’ve made my maiden flight, I’ll be back the very next vacation.” Marta smiled down at the swell of Sydney’s belly. “To be here when you give birth to that bundle you’re carting around—or shortly thereafter.”

      Sydney had never asked Marta outright to come to Alaska—only said how much she wished her friend could be here and see the place for herself. Marta had never before been off the ground, choosing to take any overland route available to where she wanted to go. Sydney knew what making this trip had cost Marta and was grateful beyond words that she had come. She couldn’t imagine anyone she would have wanted in her corner more than Marta—with the exception