Gwynne Forster - Forbidden Temptation

However, Luther’s role in Ruby’s life remained basically as it had always been.

As she sped down the Edsel Ford Parkway three days after New Year’s, a blue SUV swiped the left side of Ruby’s car and sent it spinning into the right lane. She’d never prayed so hard in her life as she did while struggling to control her car. When it finally stopped on the right shoulder of the highway, she got out, wrote down the plate number of the offending vehicle and stood beside the driver’s door of her car waiting for the driver of the SUV. A big, lumbering man got out of the SUV half a city block away and started toward her but, unsure of what to expect, her nerves rioted throughout her body, and she took out her cell phone and dialed the one person she always relied on.

“Hello.”

“Luther, it’s Ruby.” The words rolled out of her at a rapid-fire rate. “I’m on Route 12, and somebody just hit my car. He’s a huge man, and he just got out of his SUV and he’s headed this way. Maybe I should just—”

“Get in your car and stay in it,” he said. “Lock the door and roll down the window just enough to speak with him. Did you call the police?”

“I forgot. I’ll call them now. Look, the man’s almost here, so I’d better hang up.”

“You’ll do no such thing. Keep that phone open and right where he can see it. Where are you on twelve?’

“Just past the intersection of Route 94 headed to Detroit.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

She hurried back into her car, closed and locked the door, rolled down the window about two inches and dialed the police. It hadn’t occurred to her to be afraid or even especially cautious, but she trusted Luther as she always had, and when the big man reached her car, huffing and puffing for air, she was on her guard.

“When did you get your driver’s license?” he yelled. His breath gave her the real reason for his having nearly run her off the highway.

“I’ve been driving for…let’s see…about thirteen years, and I’ve never had an accident. Please let me see your driver’s license.”

“Oh, yeah? You’re out of your mother-loving mind, lady. You hit me.”

“No matter who hit whom,” she said keeping her voice low and calm, “we have to exchange information, don’t we?” She didn’t dare rattle the man, and she wanted to keep him there until the police arrived. She was beginning to wish she hadn’t called Luther, because the man’s belligerent manner suggested that he’d use any excuse for a fight.

“Look,” she said, “we have to settle this. I’ll write my information out and give it to you.” She reached into the glove compartment, got a small pad and a pencil and handed it to him through the slightly open window. “You write your info out for me on that little pad, and we’ll be on our way.”

“You’re a slick one,” he said. “I wouldn’t trust a woman as far as I could throw her. It’ll cost me four or five hundred bucks to get my car painted. You can give me the cash or a check, I don’t care which. But if the check bounces, expect to see me again.”

In spite of the cold wind blasting her through the partly open window, perspiration beaded on her forehead. She couldn’t move the car without hurting him, and he had only to shove her car with all his strength and she’d be lying in the little ravine at the edge of the highway. As her mind raced for a solution, a car pulled up behind hers, but from her rearview mirror, she knew at once that it wasn’t Luther’s car. Her breathing accelerated, and the man at her car window turned to see who had parked behind her.

She noticed that his hands began to shake, turned around and saw a uniformed patrolman get out of the unmarked car and said a word of thanks.

“What’s going on here?” the patrolman asked. She jumped out of the car and handed the officer her license and registration.

“I was in the middle lane going fifty, officer, and he passed me on my left and knocked me all the way to where my car is. I spun around several times, till I thought I couldn’t get control of my car.”

The officer walked around the car, looked at the tires and the scratches on the left side of the car. He stopped in front of the other driver. “You had to be going pretty fast to do this. Both of her right tires are split. Let’s see your papers.”

“I…. uh…she hit me, Officer.”

“Your papers, buddy.”

“They, uh…they’re in my car.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

Luther drove up as the two men walked off, and she didn’t think she’d ever been so happy to see anyone.

“Are you all right?” Luther asked her.

“I’m fine,” she said, although she wasn’t. He showed no warmth, neither in his voice nor his demeanor. After walking around the car, he took out his cell phone and called a tow truck. “You can’t drive this till you replace these tires and check the wheel alignment. I’ll bet that joker doesn’t have a dollar’s worth of insurance.”

The patrolman returned with the man, wrote out a report, handed each a copy and told her, “He doesn’t have any personal insurance, but you may be able to recover your costs from his employer, who owns the car. Here’s the information. I wouldn’t drive your car till it’s checked.”

“Thank you, Officer,” she said.

“If you have anything in this car that you don’t want to lose, let’s put it in my car,” Luther said. They emptied her glove compartment and the trunk and put all of it in Luther’s car. “Go sit in my car. It’s too cold to stand out here,” he said.

The tow truck arrived minutes later. Luther gave the driver instructions, got a receipt and handed it to Ruby when he got into the car. “You ought to have your car back in a couple of days. If you need help, give me a ring.”

“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He didn’t look her way as he started the car and eased into the traffic. “You don’t say.”

Ruby felt his words like a punch to the stomach.

It didn’t seem right to be at odds with Luther, the one person who had always been there for her. If only she could think of something to do or say that would get them back to the warm camaraderie she’d had with him nearly all of her life. If only she hadn’t made love with him. No, she couldn’t be sorry for that. He was the man who’d given her her birthright. But she didn’t want it to end there. She was smart enough to know that there was more, and she wanted it. Yet, Luther was serving notice that she wouldn’t get it with him.

Well, she told herself, glancing at his steely face, we’ll see about that.

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