Rebecca Winters - Another Man's Wife

“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.” Getting 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.