His Pretend Wife

Recalling the steady flow of letters she’d sent her brother in prison, Jack admired her loyalty. She’d written about college, her wacky roommates, her stern chemistry professor with the handlebar mustache. An average student, she’d loved art and music, hated math and chemistry, run a marathon and volunteered to work in a soup kitchen. One summer, she learned to water-ski, the next she worked at a camp for underprivileged children.

She’d sent pictures. To be honest, Jack had fallen just a little bit in love with Abby—the pretty girl with the pensive smile and soft mysterious eyes.

That was before he met Abigail.

The first day he’d applied for a job at the sawmill, she’d frozen him off with one look that should have put Jack exactly in his place—had he known where that was.

Now she spoke quietly, “The nurse said to notify her when you woke up,” as if she didn’t want to disturb him. It was too late for that—Jack’s pulse had soared the moment she walked into the room.

“Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.” Apparently, neither was Abigail. He tried to shut out her voice, the soft floral scent of her perfume. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

After buzzing the nurse, Abby said, “Something came up.”

“Let me guess—the newspaper article.”

Her startled gaze shifted to the newspaper on the edge of the bedside stand. “I see you got a copy.”

“The nurse brought it around.” She’d also made the bed with him in it. By the time Tammy had completed the task, they were both exhausted. Between one thing and another, Jack was in a foul mood. “So, our little secret is out. We’re married. You know, we could have avoided this mess by admitting the truth and clearing up the confusion at the start.”

“I know.” Abby twisted her hands together, stopping when his gaze followed the nervous gesture. She slid her hands into her pockets. “But I never thought it would get into the papers. It’s too late to do anything about it now.”

“We could explain the situation and get it over with.”

“But that might create more headlines and involve the hospital in legalities. Besides, it would be awkward for everyone concerned.” Meaning Abigail.

Jack smiled grimly. “And you don’t think pretending to be married will be awkward?”

“It needn’t be. This is a hospital,” she pointed out in a reasonable tone that grated on his nerves. “No one asks personal questions unless it directly affects a patient’s health. Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not angry—I’m confused. Why did you do it?”

She shrugged. “Because you asked for my help. I know that sounds odd, but everything was happening so fast. I didn’t have time to think. I just got carried along with the situation.”

“What are your parents going to say?”

“They’re away at the moment.”

“That will buy you time, but nothing else.”

Apparently, Abby had more pressing concerns. “Is everything the reporter wrote true?”

“More or less.” Wrongly accused, he’d spent three years in prison before he was cleared of all charges. However, he’d left something behind in prison—his youth, his faith in the goodness of his fellow man. And his belief in tomorrow.

Abby frowned. “You never committed any crime. When you first arrived in Henderson, why didn’t you explain?”

“Because no one asked.” Jack hoped she’d take the hint and change the subject. He’d spent time in prison—end of story. Almost. Eventually, he’d been set free—with apologies from the prosecutor, but nothing else. Well, sorry didn’t win back your self-respect or hand you a job. Shackled by the bitter memory of a friend’s betrayal, Jack was free of all emotional ties and determined to remain that way.

“You met my brother in prison. Drew made some mistakes, but he’s made up for them. I’m very proud of him.”

“He’s a good man.” Jack wondered where this conversation was going. As far as he could tell, Drew had turned his life around after his release. In quick order, he’d married, settled down and reopened the sawmill. With Olivia firmly in his corner, he was earning the respect of the townspeople who still doubted his sincerity. And his commitment. In some ways, the jury was still out when it came to Drew Pierce. He’d come a long way from the spoiled careless playboy in Jack’s estimation. Prison could make or break a man. As Gran would say, “the same fire that melts butter forges steel.” Jack frowned, wondering if the same could be said of him.

Abby continued. “He’s worked hard to turn his life around.”

Ah—so that was it. Jack smiled wearily. He’d arrived in Henderson with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove—to himself. Drew Pierce had owed him a favor and given him a job on a logging crew. Before the accident, things had been working out. That was then, this was now. Now, more than ever, Jack couldn’t lower his guard and let people close—Abby topped the list. “You were afraid I’d drag him down again.”

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