Cathy Mcdavid - His Only Wife

“Good. How ‘bout yourself?” He moved ahead in line, closing the distance between them. “You look great.”

His lingering appraisal of her appearance caused Aubrey’s cheeks to heat. Never was she more aware of the fact that her younger, stick-figure self had filled out in all the right places.

“So do you,” she blurted. “Look great, that is.”

Of all things to gush forth from between her lips. Complete mental dysfunction was her only excuse. Gage did that to her. He always had.

But, sweet heaven, he did look great.

Tall to start with, he’d outgrown his once lanky form. There was no shortage of muscles bunching beneath his T-shirt. He wore his nearly black hair shorter than before. The wavy ends poked out from beneath his weathered cowboy hat to curl attractively at the base of his neck. His boots were scruffy, as always, and he needed a shave. Not that the dark stubble shadowing his jaw detracted from his good looks. Quite the contrary.

Rather than risk another embarrassing blunder, she forced her stiff legs to take a step toward the double glass doors at the front of the store. She’d known seeing him again would be a bit awkward, but she hadn’t expected it to be so…disconcerting. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Hold up.” He retrieved his change and plastic sack containing his purchases. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“No!” At his bemused expression, she checked herself. “That’s not necessary. You’re obviously in a hurry.”

“Actually, I’m not.”

The sexy half smile he turned on her was potent as ever. Hoping to minimize its effects, she grabbed for the door handle nearest her and yanked, almost tearing her hand off in the process. The door rattled, but didn’t open. Too late, she realized she’d pulled instead of pushed. Gage came up behind her, reached around and braced his hand on the glass panel near her head.

“Here. Let me get that for you.” The door swung open, and a hot breeze struck Aubrey in the face.

She glanced over her shoulder. Big mistake.

His face hovered a few inches above hers. If she shifted slightly, she could find herself nestled in the crook of his arm. It was a place she’d been often enough as a teenager and remembered well.

A warning bell the size of Liberty herself rang inside Aubrey’s head.

“Thanks.” She shoved through the door and flashed him a smile she hoped radiated confidence. “See you around.”

He followed, his long strides easily keeping pace with her. “Is this yours?” he asked when they reached her SUV.

“Mine and the bank’s,” she answered. Not wanting Gage to sense her discomfort, she made an effort to relax.

“Four-wheel drive. That’ll come in handy around here.” He gave the car the standard once-over typical of men, then hitched his chin at the neighboring island of gas pumps. “I’m still driving a pickup.”

The long-bed crew cab he indicated was considerably newer and nicer than the one he’d driven in high school. And from what she could see, loaded to the hilt with lumber and various other building materials. He must have come into Pineville to purchase supplies for his family’s cattle ranch. There was some sort of emblem on the driver-side door that she couldn’t make out from this distance.

“It’s big,” she said and returned to filling her SUV with gas.

“I heard you were staying with your grandmother for a while. That’s nice of you. A broken hip is no picnic, and I’m sure she appreciates your help.”

“Yes.” Small-town gossip, thought Aubrey. Nothing stayed secret for long. Everybody from the local sheriff to the clerk at the feed store had probably been informed of her arrival.

“Look, Aubrey,” Gage said. “I know you probably feel a little…weird after what happened. Is there any chance we can get together and talk?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She squeezed the gas nozzle until her fingers turned white. “I mean, what’s to talk about? It was ages ago, and we’ve both moved on.”

“But I don’t want you feeling like you have to run for cover every time you see my pickup truck coming down the road. Blue Ridge is a small town. You can’t walk across your front lawn without having to stop and chat with at least three people.”

“I’m not going to run for cover every time I see you,” she scoffed.

He gave her a skeptical look.

“Really.” She hated that he knew her so well. But then, how could he not? They’d spent fifteen straight summers together, the last one as Mr. and Mrs. Raintree.

A loud click sounded, signaling her gas tank was full. Grateful for small favors, Aubrey jammed the nozzle back into the side of the pump. “I have to go. Grandma’s expecting me.” She slid in behind the wheel.

“Drive carefully. There’s a lot of loose gravel on the roads.” He shut her door for her.

Aubrey wiggled her fingers in farewell, then started the SUV. Without meaning to, she sped out of the parking lot, succumbing to the urge to put as much distance between herself and Gage as possible.

Two miles outside of Pineville her heart rate finally dropped to double digits, and her breathing slowed. The worst was over, she told herself. She ran into Gage and had lived to tell about it. Next time wouldn’t be so hard. Right?

Aubrey fervently hoped so. If not, this could be the longest six weeks of her life.

SOMETHING MUST HAVE happened. An accident maybe? Aubrey hit the brakes and came to a stop behind a Hummer hauling a trailer loaded with ATVs. She flipped up the sun visor and, squinting, stared out the windshield. For as far up the highway as she could see, traffic was at a standstill. It was then she realized there were no cars coming from the opposite direction.

After several minutes, people started getting out of their vehicles and milling around. Resigned to wait, Aubrey lowered her window and shut off her engine.

She didn’t relish being stuck in a traffic jam, but at least she was safely away from Gage. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the headrest and allowed the memories to come. Pain and hurt accompanied the steady stream of images filling her mind, convincing Aubrey that, despite her earlier conviction, she was anything but over Gage.

He’d been her first for many things. Her first kiss. Her first real date. Her first love. Her first—and only—husband. Without warning, her eyes began to tear.

“You okay?”

Aubrey sat bolt upright at the intrusion. A middle-aged man stood next to her open window.

“Ah…yeah,” she mumbled, embarrassed at being caught on the verge of crying. “Just tired.”

“I’m going down the line, passing the word. There’s a wreck a mile or two up the road.”

“Is it serious?”

“A semi and four cars, they’re saying. Road’s completely blocked in both directions.”

The distant wail of a siren grew louder. As the ambulance passed, adrenaline flooded Aubrey’s system, one of the many side effects of working in a hospital E.R., she supposed. Though, for her, it had recently become worse.

“Hope you brought a good book to read.” The middle-aged man rapped her door and gave her a toothy smile before moving on. “We’re gonna be here a while.”

“Thanks,” she called after him, her breathing, thankfully, slowing.

No book, but she had brought along some medical periodicals on health care for the aged and how to live independently after a hip fracture. She took one from the seat beside her and thumbed through it. Hopefully, she’d find something beneficial to her grandmother and compelling enough to keep her mind off the traffic jam. And Gage.

“Aubrey.” He stood at her window.

Her hands involuntarily jerked, and the newsletter dropped onto her lap. “What are you doing here?”