CIDER

by Eliza
elizawpg@shaw.ca

CATEGORY/RATING: Helm/Marta G
LEGAL STUFF: The Doc and Marta and Tessa don't belong to me, it seems that Fireworks Entertainment has the paperwork. No copyright infringement intended. No money made.
FEEDBACK: Love it. Really do.
DEDICATION: For Rach and MnD, who are being good enough to beta these snippets. Thanks much.
SUMMARY: Helm and Marta talk about their pasts. Part 4 in a series.

"What are you doing?"

Doctor Helm directed the words to the back side of the dress that was hanging over the edge of a deep apple barrel. The proof that there was a woman inside the dress came from the sharp thump, as her head hit the side of the barrel, as well as the sharp phrase that followed. The actual words were muffled, but they were sure to have been unladylike.

Helm smirked. Marta, who had just come upon the scene, rolled her eyes. The doctor winked back at her. The dress righted itself and the lady emerged with an apple in each hand.

"Doctor Helm," she said, trying hard to regain her dignity as she handed the apples to Marta.

"Senorita Alvarado," he returned with equal solemnity. "Could you use some help?" They both looked into the barrel. There were four apples left.

"Please," she said and moved away from the edge.

Helm used his longer reach and larger hands to pick two at once. He handed them directly to Marta, but paused and took a good look at the last two in is hand.

"At home we would have use these for cider," he commented as he handed them over.

"Cider? That is not something I am familiar with," said Tessa

"It's apple wine, though usually made to be the strength of good beer. That can differ with the maker though," he said as he smiled at the memory. "I've heard that they make a very good apple brandy in Normandy but haven't tried it myself."

Marta was nodding. "Calvados," she said. Two surprised faces turned her way and she felt the need to defend herself. "I've traveled."

The last of the supplies were collected for the trip back to the Alvarado hacienda and Helm assisted in loading the wagon. He was about to help the ladies to the seat when something caught Tessa's attention.

She turned to Marta and said, "Vera is going into the cantina. I would like to speak to her for a few moments. Could you wait, I won't be long?" She didn't wait for an answer before heading across the square.

Marta smiled at the peeved look on Helm's face. He is so cute when he is being protective. She chuckled and caught his attention. "She's young, that's all. If I had wanted to stop her I could have."

"At least come and wait in my office out of the sun."

Remembering the last time they had been truly alone, Marta refused. "With the amount of cloud we have had lately, I'm enjoying the sun. Stay and keep me company? Tell me about making cider."

As with most memories of his past Helm shied away from the topic. "That was along time ago. It's no longer important."

"Tell me anyway." It was just a gentle nudge. "It was when you were a boy wasn't it? I bet you were the type that sat in a tree all afternoon eating apples until you were sick for days."

That hit the right tone and Helm smiled as he leaned against the side of the wagon. "No, that was my cousin. I used them for ammunition for target practice."

"That must have been such a waste. So many would get horribly bruised."

"Ah, but then so many more would go into the cider vat. My uncle may have scolded but he never really punished me for it. When were you in Normandy?"

Nice side step, Doctor, thought Marta as she answered, "I wasn't. For a while my family spent the summers in the Pyrenees in Cataluna."

"North of Barcelona?"

"Yes. One year we met up with another group who had been traveling throughout France. They were returning to Spain -- France was too cold in winter, they said. One of the young men had saved a bottle of the apple brandy." Marta felt a blush begin to warm her cheeks and hoped the remembered emotions were not too easy to read on her face.

"How old were you?" Helm was watching her closely.

"Nineteen. Almost an old maid." Marta added the last to try and distance herself from the very pleasant memory.

"An old maid at nineteen?! What would they consider you now?" The question should have been insulting, but when said with such a sly smile he made it seem almost a compliment.

"Over-ripe, fallen off the tree, not worth picking up off the ground."

Helm stepped up close. "But those were the ones that made the best cider. So soft, juicy, and sweet they couldn't hold on to the branch any more."

She really hated it when he said things like that. No, it wasn't what he said but how he said it, at just the right pitch to resonate all the way down her spine. Her pulse started to race and she couldn't think of a flippant reply. In the sunlight, the green eyes had captured flecks of gold. The slight breeze teased some of her curls and he captured them around his fingers like he had done on New Year's Eve.

This time he let his thumb brush very lightly across her cheekbone. Madre de Dios, but he has a gentle touch. He moved even closer. There was small smile on his lips, and in his eyes, which not so much asked for permission but dared her to refuse. He was going to kiss her and she was going to let him. She shouldn't. She really wanted to, but she shouldn't.

"Doctor, we are in the middle of the square." Her warning wasn't very convincing and he moved in for the kiss anyway.

"Marta, I'm ready to go." Tessa was bright and cheery and on the other side of the wagon, climbing up into the seat.

That separated them quickly. Helm turned his back to both women for a moment and Marta bit off a string of curses that would have made a pirate blush. He turned back around with a wry smile and helped Marta into the wagon.

"Have a safe trip home, ladies," he said.

"Thank you, Doctor," replied Tessa as Marta gathered the reins and the wagon pulled away.

THE END