Rebecca Winters - Another Man's Wife

As he stopped to lock the front door, he heard another car pull into the driveway. He turned in time to see a figure get out of the front passenger side. A pregnant figure in black.

Nate froze in his tracks.

She hurried toward Rick who was putting his skis on the rack of their Blazer. If they exchanged any conversation, it was brief. She darted back to the waiting car before Nate could make it down the front steps of the house.

By the time he caught up with his brother, the driver had backed up and headed off.

Rick’s speculative glance swiveled to Nate. “This is for you.” He extended a white envelope. “At first she must’ve thought I was you because she said, ‘for Scott’s sake please don’t tear this up before you read it.’”

“That woman doesn’t know when to quit!”

He’d had about all he could take for one weekend. It was a little late to be using her dead husband’s name to get to Nate. Not that he could figure out why she’d even want to.

“I’ll hold on to it for now.” Rick stashed it in a pocket of his parka while Nate put his skis on the rack. “If we don’t step on it, we won’t be able to ski at all.”

“LAUREL? Are you all right?” Julie called from the back of the car where she was sitting with the boys. Both she and Brent had insisted Laurel ride in front to give her a little extra leg room.

“I’m fine now that I’ve delivered my letter. Thanks for stopping.”

She’d realized too late that she’d approached Hawk’s brother instead of him. Scott had mentioned he had a sibling. They bore a strong resemblance to each other, except that he had gray eyes and they were questioning rather than damning.

It wasn’t until she’d gotten back in the car that she saw another tall figure on the pathway, carrying a pair of skis. That was when her heart jumped.

In truth she was glad it had turned out the way it did. Most likely Hawk would have flung the letter back in her face. This way, at least, there was a chance that his brother might pass it on.

After talking to the salesperson at the ski shop earlier, Laurel knew the woman would tell Hawk about the phone call and he’d disappear in order to avoid her.

The only thing Laurel could think to do was make a surprise visit to his parents’ house. She’d hoped no one would be there so she could stick her letter to the front door with some tape.

“Was that the man who made you cry?”

So much for the kids not knowing what was going on.

“No, Joey. It was his brother.”

“How do you know?”

“Because they look alike, the way you and Mike do.”

“I don’t look like Joey,” Mike muttered.

“Yes, you do,” their mother insisted. “And you both look like your dad.”

“If you have a boy, it’ll look like Uncle Scott, huh, Aunt Laurel?”

“Not necessarily, Joey.” This was from Brent, who hadn’t chosen to interfere until now.

“It might be a girl.”

“We want a boy cousin, Mom.”

Brent grinned. “You should’ve put in your order sooner, Mike. I’m afraid it was decided eight months ago.”

“Who decided it?”

“The father does, Joey.”

“Then Uncle Scott would’ve picked a boy!”

“Your dad didn’t mean the father really decides. Remember in that book we all read together? When the sperm and the egg unite to make a baby, there’s something in the man’s sperm that’ll make it a boy or a girl.”

“But what if we don’t want our sperm to make a girl?” Joey blurted.

Laurel bit her lip to keep from laughing. Like Julie, she felt it was important to teach children the truth using correct terms. However she could see that honesty didn’t necessarily answer all the questions.

“That’s why God’s in charge,” his mother explained.

“You always say that.”

“That’s because it’s true, Mike,” their father said.

“I guess He didn’t want our family to have girls, then.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

Before Laurel had time to react to Julie’s mysterious comment, Brent had already pulled over to the side of the highway. He turned in the seat to stare at his wife.

“Did you just say what I think you said?” Laurel heard incredulity and excitement in his voice.

Julie’s low chuckle gave her away. “I was going to wait until tonight to tell you.”

“Tell Dad what, Mom?” Mike asked.

Laurel couldn’t resist interjecting. “It sounds like you’re going to be getting a new little brother or sister later on in the year.”

How wonderful, wonderful.

Her sister’s pregnancy had just settled something that had been a big question in Laurel’s mind. After her own baby was born, she’d love to buy a small house in Aurora, so they could all still be close and she could help her sister when the time came for her delivery. They could raise their children together.

But only if Brent felt right about it. He’d put up with her for months now. Maybe he was counting the days until she left their house and Denver for good. No one could have been as terrific to her as he’d been since Scott’s death. To expect more might be assuming too much.

During the rest of the drive home, Laurel remained silent. For the moment she was content to put her head back and listen to the happy flow of conversation from her favorite people.

Every once in a while, she’d sneak a glance at Brent. She wondered if Scott had beamed like that after he’d heard the news about his baby.

Their child was almost here. It moved constantly in the womb, preventing her from finding a comfortable position. Since her seventh month she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. Yet she reveled in every stage of her pregnancy because she no longer felt alone.

NATE HAD BEEN SKIING in the Alps many times with different friends, but none of them could keep up. Only Rick exceeded him in speed and technique. If his brother hadn’t learned to love car-racing at such an early age, he could have trained for the Olympics, too. He was that good. But then, he was good at everything, just like their parents.

This afternoon, his brother had given him a real workout on Eagles’ Nest.

“That’s our pizza,” Rick said when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”

Following an afternoon of hard skiing, pizza normally sounded good to Nate, but not today. He pulled on his sweats and went to get a couple of Cokes from the fridge.

When he saw a rumpled envelope with the name Hawk written on it stuck to the door with a magnet, he forgot why he’d come into the kitchen.

Hell.

He yanked the refrigerator door open to get the drinks. When he slammed it shut, he did it so hard the magnet and letter fell to the floor.

Much as he wanted to leave it there, he realized he was behaving like an immature child. How could a thirty-year-old man—a man who’d experienced everything he had, including the deaths of family let one insignificant woman’s actions rule his emotions like this?

As if operating in slow motion, he put the cans on the counter, then reached for the letter and magnet. After attaching the souvenir magnet to the door again, he turned the envelope over and opened it. She’d confined her remarks to one page.

Dear Hawk,

I should probably address you as Major Hawkins, but Scott always called you Hawk. That’s the way I’ve thought of you over the years.

My husband admired you greatly. If he did something to ruin your relationship, he wasn’t aware of it or he would have told me.

Since last night I’ve been thinking hard about the way you treated me on the dance floor. No matter how many times I’ve gone over it in my mind, I can’t imagine why you were so cruel, unless you wanted me to know Scott had committed some unpardonable offense.