Another Man's Wife
“And then what?”
That was a good question, one for which Laurel had no answer.
“I don’t know yet.” She eyed her sister once more. “In the meantime, I’m in the happiest place I could be while I wait for this baby.”
It was Julie and her husband, Brent, who’d understood Laurel’s need for space—and for different surroundings—while she grieved.
Of her three married sisters, Julie, the oldest, was the one with whom Laurel had always felt a special bond. Over the years they’d kept in almost constant touch through phone calls, e-mails and the occasional visit when she and Scott were stationed in Okinawa and in Spain.
To her undying gratitude, they’d told her they were taking her back to Colorado with them where Brent worked for a nationwide telecommunications company. Their two-story colonial house in Aurora had more than enough room for her and their boys.
Coming on the heels of Scott’s funeral, their offer had rescued Laurel from the Pierces, whose well-meaning attention was suffocating her. She didn’t think she would have survived otherwise.
“Please try to understand, Reba. Please be happy that you’re going to be grandparents again very soon. Scott would want it this way.”
“Our son would be shocked to know his wife has purposely stayed away from us.”
It was no use. Laurel couldn’t make her understand that it was too soon to be around his family with all the attendant memories.
“I’m sorry you feel hurt. That’s not my intent.”
She heard Reba gearing up for the next volley. “When you’re a mother, maybe then you’ll begin to understand. I think it might be better if we don’t talk for a few days.”
“I’ll call you soon. I promise.”
“I don’t think you realize how much you’ve changed, Laurel. You’re not the same girl our son fell in love with.” There was a click.
I’m not a teenager anymore, Reba.
Laurel had married Scott as soon as she’d graduated from high school. Her plans to become an elementary school teacher had to be put on hold to accommodate his career. She’d been a very young bride, too young to recognize what life in the military really meant. Scott never gave it a thought. Being a top gun provided him with the continual thrills and excitement he craved.
He’d been the youngest of five children, all of whom were now married and living in or near Philadelphia. With hindsight, Laurel could see that his parents had never gotten over losing him to the Air Force.
It was a case of arrested development on their part, she decided. They were the proud parents of an outstanding son who’d left home too soon. They were stuck in the past.
Laurel couldn’t help them with that.
It was the reason she didn’t want to live around them on a permanent basis. Nothing was going to restore Scott to life. She refused to let her child become the focus of their unassuaged longing to have their son back.
Primarily because of that, she hadn’t let the ultrasound technician tell her the sex of her baby.
Secretly she was praying for a girl. A sweet little girl who wouldn’t be the embodiment of the son they’d doted on before Scott left home.
Scotty, their thrill-seeking, daredevil son. Scotty, who’d taken Laurel’s heart on a roller-coaster ride around the world before it all came to a screeching halt decades sooner than they’d expected.
“Laurel?” her sister said. “Are you all right?”
Suddenly back in the present, she turned off the phone and stood up. “No,” she said in a quiet voice. “It was awful. I hated hurting her.”
“But you had to do it.” Julie hugged her as best she could, considering Laurel’s pregnancy. “I’m proud of you.”
“I’m pretty proud of myself. When I first met Scott’s mother, I couldn’t imagine ever talking to her the way I just did. I love his parents a lot, but they have this way of taking over, you know?”
Her sister winked. “That’s probably why Scott went into the Air Force.”
“You mean to get away from them?” Soon after she’d married Scott, the same thought had crossed Laurel’s mind, but she would never have voiced it aloud.
“Maybe. If you’ve noticed, the rest of their children haven’t been as courageous.”
“That’s because they didn’t inherit Scott’s genes.”
“Nope. He came into this world with attitude.”
In spades.
That was probably why the guys in his squadron had nicknamed him Spade. When he walked into a room, he energized it. According to his parents he’d always been that way. They would never overcome their loss.
She bit her lip. “Julie—I know I’ve been a burden to you and Brent. Maybe—”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” her sister cut in before she could walk out of the room. “Reba’s made you feel guilty again. I’m not listening to any of this,” she called over her shoulder.
Laurel had to hurry to catch up with her. She followed her through the door to the kitchen. Brent was just coming in the back door from doing errands. Julie ran to give her attractive, sandy-haired husband an enthusiastic kiss.
“Now that you’re here, will you please tell my sister she’s not a burden? A few minutes ago her mother-in-law laid an enormous guilt trip on her. That was after Laurel told her she wouldn’t be returning to Philadelphia until May for a visit.”
“Well, what do you know? You did it!” Brent grinned. “You want me to phone and tell her you’re the best baby-sitter we ever had? Julie and I get a honeymoon weekend whenever we want. And—” he made an expansive gesture “—because of you, Julie’s been able to take a part-time job so we can build our dream home that much sooner. I’d say we’ve been taking advantage of you.”
Without hesitation Laurel crossed the room and hugged both of them. “I love you guys. You’ll never know how much.”
“We love you, too,” he said. “In fact, I’d like to show our appreciation for all the help you’ve given us. Since I have to drive up to Breckenridge to pick up the kids, why don’t we all go?”
“I’d love it!” Laurel blurted. After the difficult session with her mother-in-law, she needed something to wipe that depressing conversation from her mind.
Julie frowned. “I don’t know. Three hours up and back in the car might be a little much for you at this stage.”
“Not if we spend the night to break it up,” Brent reasoned.
“That’s a terrific idea! Now we don’t even have to fix dinner.” Julie smiled and nudged her sister.
“The boys are going to be as excited as I am,” Laurel responded, smiling too. What a nice way to end their week at ski camp.”
“Good. I’ll call the Rustler Lodge and make reservations for a suite.”
“It’s Saturday, my love. With Snowfest on, I’ll bet there won’t be any rooms available.”
“Oh, yes, there will, my love. Harry Wilke’s daughter runs the desk.”
“You’re kidding! Isn’t he your regional supervisor?”
“That’s right. Getting that last account put me on his good side. He told me she’d do us a favor anytime.”
Brent grabbed the phone directory from the drawer and reached for the cordless Julie had brought back to the kitchen.
“Come on, Laurel. Let’s get packed. We’ll have to throw in some extra clothes for Mike and Joey.”
“I’ll do it,” she offered as they hurried through the house to the stairs. Since her arrival, one of her self-appointed jobs besides chief cook on the days Julie went to work was to do the wash and fold clothes. She knew exactly where to find everything the boys would want.
It didn’t take long for the three of them to get ready.
When Laurel walked through the back door to the garage with Julie, Brent was putting their skis on the rack. He glanced up, then whistled.
“Hey, people are going to be jealous when they see me with two beautiful raven-haired women.”
Laurel burst into laughter. “Thanks for making this ten-ton-Tessie feel so good. I was just telling your wife how terrific she looks in the red sweater you bought her for Christmas.”
“I appreciate it,” Julie said, “but my husband’s right. In that black sweater coat, you look wonderful.”
“Thanks, Julie.”
Laurel was still smiling as he packed their overnight bags and snow gear in the trunk. Soon he’d reversed the car out of the garage and they were off.
Laurel hadn’t left the house all day. It felt liberating—exciting—to be going on a brief vacation. She was looking forward to the drive and to seeing the boys. At eight and ten years of age, they were still delightful. Laurel adored her nephews.
Two hours later, she had to ask Brent to pull in to the nearest gas station at Copper Mountain. “Sorry, guys. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to make a rest room stop, but I’m afraid we do.”
“No problem.”
After a few minutes, they were on the road again. Within another half hour they’d reached the Rustler Lodge in Breckenridge. Brent drove up to the waiting area in front of the entrance, then turned to his wife.
“Tell you what. I’ll grab a couple of bags and take Laurel inside so she can stretch. Then I’ll come back and we’ll find the boys over at the lift. We’ve timed this just right. It ought to be closing in about ten minutes.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Let’s go register.” Brent got out of the car and collected some of the luggage, then walked her into the lodge.
Before long, one of the people at the desk had checked them in. Brent handed Laurel a key card and kept the other for himself. They strolled down the hall to the elevator.
They had to hurry to reach the next one going up; there was just enough room for the two of them to slip inside before the door closed. At the dinner hour, it was filled with people wearing everything from ski outfits to formal evening dress.
“It’s all settled, Brent. The kids will sleep with me tonight. The girl in reception said there was a sofa with a hide-a-bed in my room.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Brent sounded so thrilled at the thought of being alone with his wife, she couldn’t wait to tell her sister.
“How can you even ask me that?” She kissed his chin rather than his cheek because it was as far as she could reach with her baby protruding. He gave her an affectionate hug before the door opened to the third floor.
“This is where we get off. After you.”
CHAPTER TWO
DURING THE SHORT RIDE to the third floor, Nate’s eyes had been drawn to the chin-length, wavy black hair on the woman dressed in the black sweater. She was standing at the front of the crowded elevator.
He had to cock his head to the side, the better to examine its glistening quality brought out by the ceiling light. In Europe he’d only seen hair with that high a gloss on a few Italian and Spanish women.
When she turned to kiss her companion, Nate caught sight of her attractive profile, the contrast of sooty black lashes against ivory skin. In that moment he had the strongest impression he’d seen her before.
As the man put his arm around her and ushered her into the hall, Nate saw that she was pregnant. Then she was gone.
The elevator continued on to the dining room atop the Rustler Lodge. The door opened and everyone exited. Everyone except Nate…
He was supposed to be joining the private wedding party of twenty for dinner. A live band was playing, and all the elements were in place to make it a festive occasion.
After driving the newlyweds from the little white chapel a few streets over, he’d parked the car while Rick accompanied their father and the second Mrs. Hawkins into the lodge.
Though he and his brother had tried their hardest to be accepting of their father’s marriage, they were simply going through the motions.
But for the moment all thoughts of the day’s events left his mind because he suddenly remembered where he’d seen that lovely face before.
Though he’d only met Spade’s wife once, back when she was at Nellis years ago, a man didn’t forget a beautiful woman like that.
Her hair had been long then. With her pictures plastered on the wall of their barracks—along with other family photos—every guy in their first squadron was envious of Spade’s luck. Only two of the fourteen were married at the time.
Nate closed his eyes.
Spade…the hotshot of the group who’d been noticed by the brass right away and was transferred too soon to suit Nate. Spade…whose career had escalated too fast, who’d died in the prime of life…
The expectant mother in the elevator couldn’t possibly have been his widow. When he’d crashed and died six months ago, Nate knew his friend’s only regret was that he and his wife had never been able to have children.
The news of his death didn’t reach Nate until after he’d flown back to Edwards Air Force base following his mother’s funeral. By then it had been too late to attend the services for him in Philadelphia.
Nate had tried to reach his wife by phone, but a family member explained that she wasn’t up to talking yet. Nate understood; she would have been inconsolable. There was no greater guy than Spade.
Needing to communicate that sentiment to her, Nate had expressed his feelings in a letter, which he mailed to her family’s address.
As for anything else, all he’d been able to do was send money to Duce, another buddy, who’d arranged for flowers on behalf of all the guys in their old squadron.
A month later, Nate received a printed thank-you card. At the bottom was a handwritten postscript telling him she would always cherish his tribute to her husband.
Seeing the woman in the elevator who bore such an uncanny resemblance to her reminded Nate that he still had unfinished business. Tomorrow he’d phone Spade’s widow in Philadelphia and see how she was doing.
He imagined she was still going through hell. Theirs had been a love affair that had begun in high school and would have lasted a lifetime. Spade had been crazy about her.
After graduating from the Air Force Academy, pilots earned the right to have their names and call signs painted on their first F-l6s. Their group gave Spade a hard time with his. 016 Laurel, my first and only love.
“Excuse me.”
Nate had been so preoccupied with his memories, he didn’t realize the elevator had descended to the foyer once more, and he was blocking the exit.
“Sorry,” he murmured and stepped out into the hall to make room. But when he would have moved back inside, something stopped him.
As long as he was on the ground floor, it wouldn’t hurt to go over to the front desk and make a simple inquiry.
The pert redhead in reception flashed him a warm smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to ring Mrs. Scott Pierce on the house phone, but I don’t know her extension.”
“Pierce?” She scanned the screen of her computer. “No.”
She checked it several different ways. “Sorry. There’s no one registered under that name. Is there anything else I can do?”
“That’s all right. Thank you.”
Nate turned away. His first instincts had been right; the woman in the elevator was a look-alike. No doubt the man Nate had seen her kiss was her husband. They were going to have a baby soon.
Spade’s widow would have remained in Philadelphia, where she had the kind of support from two loving families her husband would have wanted for her.
Nate felt a need to expend some energy and opened the door to the stairs. He took them two at a time. But when he reached the third floor, his legs refused to move any farther.
Despite all his logic, he sensed something was wrong. It was exactly the way he’d felt the last time he’d been in action, when he couldn’t raise an immediate response from his wingman during a sortie.
What if, by some stretch of the imagination, that woman had been Laurel Pierce?
Nate recalled the man in the elevator who’d pulled her close to him with such familiarity.
Her lover? If so, the two of them would have checked into the lodge under his name.
Spade had only been gone six months… Before that, he and Nate had been flying with NATO forces, so he couldn’t possibly have been with his wife at the time of conception.
Following those thoughts to their inevitable conclusion, Nate felt the bile rise in his throat. It was like the night Rick had told him their father was getting married again—and yet it wasn’t.
Because the baby couldn’t possibly be Spade’s.
He curled his fingers around the railing, unaware he was cutting off his circulation.
According to the investigators on the scene, his jet had crashed due to mechanical failure. But what if their report was wrong?
Spade had been the true pride of the Air Force. The best of the best. They’d wanted to show him off in that air show before he flew to England for a long-awaited reunion with his wife.
What if one of the guys had tipped him off that she’d been having an affair? What if he hadn’t been able to handle her betrayal?
You thought you knew someone inside out. But did anyone know how a man would react if he learned that the wife he worshipped had been sleeping with someone else?
Nate felt a spasm of pain at the thought that his friend might have been suffering such agony he’d actually become suicidal.
Horrified by his own gruesome speculation, he realized there was nothing he could do about it, even if she was enjoying a full-fledged affair with the guy in the elevator.
Perhaps they were married now.
Maybe he was her second husband.
Why not? It had been six months. Apparently it was the season for throwing off the old.
To hell with enduring love.
He sprinted the rest of the way to the restaurant. When he approached the table in the corner by the picture windows, Rick sent him a “what’s up?” glance.
The wedding party, consisting of their dad’s closest friends, had already reached the main course. Jim and his wife sat to one side of Rick, Nina Farr and her husband on the other. Those two couples were the people running the day-to-day business. They nodded to Nate.
His father gazed at him anxiously. Nate could see the pleading in his eyes. Nate couldn’t stand it that their lives had come down to this—a furtive look that begged forgiveness.
Nate didn’t have to forgive his father. In fact, forgiveness didn’t enter into it.
This was life.
This was the real stuff of which life was made. Apparently, the last thirty years had merely been a prelude.
He found his chair opposite Rick and sat down. “I’m sorry to be so long, everybody. I got stuck in the elevator.”
It was as good a lie as any. In a way, it wasn’t really even a lie. The elevator had become his prison for those few minutes of bitter reflection.
Pam’s expressive brown eyes were compassionate. “That happened to me once at Nieman Marcus. There was a claustrophobic woman who became hysterical. It was a dreadful experience, so I know how you feel.”
She spoke the truth. It had been dreadful. He wanted to put it behind him. He wanted to put Pam at ease.
Nate had come to the same conclusion as Rick. Pam was a nice person. So far he hadn’t been able to find anything wrong with her. Like the rest of them, she’d been trying hard.
He smiled at her. “How about a dance? That is, if Dad says it’s all right.”
His request caught his father off guard. Once he’d cleared his throat, he nodded, then said, “I’ll tell the waitress to bring your dinner.”
Nate couldn’t possibly eat right now, but all he said was, “Thanks.” Getting to his feet, he went around to Pam’s chair to help her up from the table.
She was a little thing. He felt as if he was twirling a pixie around the floor. It shouldn’t have surprised him that she was a good dancer. Nothing ought to surprise him anymore.
“I love your father,” she declared in a quiet voice. “Only time will tell if he learns to love me.” Nate almost missed a step. “I hear that my family’s already laid bets on how soon he leaves me. That’s the reason I didn’t ask any of them to the wedding.”
Without stopping for breath she said, “If I were in your shoes, I couldn’t have accepted what’s happened with the kind of grace you and Rick have shown. It’s another testimonial to the exceptional parents you’ve had.
“Maybe you don’t want to hear this, but I feel strongly that you need to know the truth about something. On your father’s insistence, we haven’t slept together yet. In fact, I’ve never stayed overnight at your house. I realize you don’t need me to tell you he’s a very special man, but I had to say it anyway.”
Nate’s memory of Texas women had been right. She could pack more words into a few minutes than any other woman he’d ever met. In this case he was glad.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
On impulse he gave her a hug. The first one he’d felt like giving her. She relaxed in his arms as they continued around the dance floor.
LAUREL HAD STARTED to put another piece of prime rib in her mouth when she saw him.
He was out of uniform, but it had to be Nate Hawkins.
Scott had introduced them years ago in Nevada. He was the one who’d written her such a touching letter. With so many people to thank after the funeral, she’d sent only printed notes expressing her gratitude. He had deserved much more.
Over the years she’d collected hundreds of photos and several dozen videos immortalizing her husband’s career in the Air Force. They were packed away in storage. The attractive man on the dance floor was in most of the early pictures.
Scott had said his best buddy in their first squadron was originally from Colorado. She didn’t think she could be mistaken.
Putting down her fork, she leaned toward her brother-in-law. “Brent? Would you do me a favor and dance with me quick?”
“I thought you didn’t want to dance because your stomach was too big,” said Joey, their youngest.
“Joey!” his mother admonished him.
“You mean right this second?” Brent was in the process of devouring his sirloin steak.
“Yes. Otherwise it might be too late.”
Julie gave her a quizzical look.
Brent must have sensed it was important. He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then got up to assist her.
“See that dark-blond man across the floor dancing with the short brunette? I think I know him. Just get me over there so I won’t look too conspicuous.”
His gaze traveled to her prominent mound. “I’ll try,” he said with a grin.
Brent wasn’t the greatest dancer, but all she needed was a prop to get her to her destination.
The closer they drew, the more she became convinced this was the man who’d flown with her husband at the beginning of their careers, and later during their deployment with the NATO forces. He was the man Scott had admired more than any other.
His back was still toward her, but even his formal midnight-blue suit couldn’t disguise his solid build which had been noticeable in all those old pictures.
When she’d met him, he’d reminded her of an Olympic cross-country skier who could do a 50 K race, like the men from Norway or Sweden with their tall, splendid bodies in the peak of physical condition.
She’d never confided those thoughts to Scott who’d stood five eleven and worked out whenever possible to try and emulate his friend’s appearance. There were some things you didn’t tell your husband.
Laurel was in touching distance of him now. She let go of Brent and put a hand on the man’s arm.
“Hawk? It is you, isn’t it?”
Now it was the other couple who’d stopped dancing.
Like a person who’d just been shot, the man dropped his hands. The woman excused herself before he turned slowly in Laurel’s direction.
It had been nine years since they’d met. Time and experience had refined the rugged good looks she remembered, but the cold blue eyes staring back at her weren’t familiar.
One strong hand closed over his other arm at the wrist. Not a word came out of him. The negative tension he emanated was so palpable she felt unsure of herself and searched for Brent’s hand, gripping it for support.