Another Man's Wife

by Rebecca Winters

  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.” Getti
ng 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.

  “You probably don’t remember me. It’s been too many years. I’m—”

  “I know who you are,” he broke in before she could say her name or introduce him to Brent. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m attending a wedding party.”

  As he strode away from her, she could’ve sworn he muttered “Have a nice life.”

  Brent was there to cradle her so she wouldn’t fall. She buried her face against his shoulder for a moment to hide her pain, then pulled away in embarrassment.

  “W-would you help me to the elevator, please?”

  Ruddy color had filled his cheeks. “That bastard! Who the hell does he think he is to treat you like that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just dance me over to the entrance. Don’t say anything to Julie or the kids.”

  The next few minutes were a blur as he took her all the way to the room. When he would’ve stayed to comfort her, she had to push him out the door to make him leave.

  “I’m so sorry to have dragged you from dinner. Go back upstairs and enjoy the rest of the evening with your family. I’m going to take a shower and get into bed. By the time you’re all back, I’ll be fully recovered.”

  “Laurel—”

  “I feel like a fool and I don’t want to talk about it. You’re a good man. My sister’s the luckiest woman I know. Now go.”

  “All right, but we won’t be long.”

  The second he’d gone, she crept over to the bed and lay on her side.

  No one had ever treated her as cruelly as Hawk had done a few minutes ago.

  She felt as if he’d lifted her from the ground and thrashed her against a wall.

  Hot tears gushed from her eyes. It had been months since she’d cried like this.

  What did Scott or I ever do to you, Hawk?

  What?

  RICK WALKED into the house ahead of Nate. He flipped on the living room lights, and they stared at each other. “It’s just you and me.”

  Nate tugged at his tie before he threw it and his suit jacket over the back of a chair. He missed. Everything fell in a heap on the floor. Not bothering to pick them up, he unfastened the top button of his shirt. It popped off.

  Rick’s eyes followed his out-of-control movements. “Want to start by telling me what you and our father’s new bride were talking about on the dance floor? Or shall we cut to the chase? Explain why you looked so ill after you came back to the table.”

  His brother deserved explanations if anyone did, but for the life of him he couldn’t find the words.

  Lord. Her eyes.

  Could a woman who looked that hurt be guilty of the crime he’d accused her of in his heart?

  “I couldn’t eat dinner, either, but I feel like a beer,” Rick said. “Do you want one?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  While his brother went to the kitchen, Nate studied the various family pictures their mother had placed around the room. He had his favorites. Like gravity, they pulled him in for a closer look.

  “Do you remember the ad on TV?” Rick handed him an ice-cold lager. “The one that said, ‘it’s eleven o’clock. Parents, do you know where your children are?’”

  Nate nodded.

  “It’s like the roles have been reversed. Children, it’s eleven o’clock. Do you know where your parents are?”

  Their eyes met again.

  “We don’t have to worry that Pam could be exp
ecting a baby,” Nate began. “Dad chose not to sleep with her until after they’d said their marriage vows.”

  Rick did a double take. “She came right out and told you that?”

  “She did.” Nate chugged down half the contents of his can. “There’s more.”

  In a few minutes he’d told Rick the essence of their conversation on the dance floor.

  His brother let out a long whistle. “What if her family’s right?”

  “I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

  “A few minutes ago I was thinking there’s no more reason for us to be here. Jim hasn’t said anything, but I suspect he’d buy Dad out, given the opportunity.”

  “With a good loan from the bank, he could probably do it,” Nate agreed. “The house could be rented.”

  Rick sat down on the couch. “I can see we’re on the same wavelength, as usual. But after what Pam told you, maybe there’s a chance Dad doesn’t know his own mind yet….”

  “That’s the kicker.” Nate had the strongest suspicion it would break Pamela’s heart. “Under the circumstances, there’s no point in both of us staying here.”

  His brother’s head reared up. “I was just going to tell you the same thing! What I’ve been doing for a living is selfish and has little redeeming value. In contrast, my brother protects our country’s freedom and puts his life on the line every time he goes up in the air. Nothing’s more noble than that.”

  “We need people to race cars, too. It brings in advertising, which in turn keeps the world economy going.”

  “You’re so full of it, you almost convince me.” Rick heaved a sigh. “But it’s a moot point now. When I broke the racing contract with my sponsor, they made it clear I’ve burned my bridges.” He took a moment to drink some of his beer. “Let’s agree to table this discussion until next week, after they’re back from Hawaii.

  “Maybe home will feel good to Dad. They might not leave for her ranch right away, if at all. He may need us yet.”

  “I suppose anything’s possible.”

  Rick leaned forward, hands clasped between his legs. “What else has been tearing you up for the last couple of hours?”