Another Man's Wife

Nate folded his arms. “Do you want to play chess or not?”

“Are you in the mood to be beaten?”

“Winning too many races has made you cocky.”

Rick straddled the chair and sat down. “Flying too many combat missions has made you ruthless.”

He hadn’t seen that coming. Not from his brother. Nate averted his eyes, wondering if any part of what Rick had just said was true.

The next week was going to be endless for both of them. Until their father returned from his honeymoon, they couldn’t make any definite plans for the future.

“It’s your move, big brother.”

They both knew Rick wasn’t talking about chess.

An hour later Nate still couldn’t concentrate on the game. The two of them looked at each other in resignation before agreeing to call it a night.

Rick pushed himself away from the card table. “See you in the morning.”

Nate nodded to his brother, who left the living room first. His gaze followed Rick before it shifted to the letter. Without disturbing the chess pieces, he got up and plucked it from the end table to read again. One particular paragraph leaped out at him.

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.

Her words had kindled his anger the first time around. On second reading, he’d reached flash point.

How dare she pretend Scott had anything to do with Nate’s reaction to her last evening!

His chest heaved as he turned out the lights and dashed up the stairs to his bedroom. When he started to get undressed, he realized he still held her letter. To his surprise, he’d crumpled it completely without being aware of it.

As he tossed it into the wastebasket, he knew exactly what Spade would have done if their positions had been reversed and he’d seen Nate’s supposedly barren widow pregnant with a child that couldn’t possibly be Nate’s.

Spade had been a man of action. You knew where you stood with him. That was where he’d gotten his nickname—the fact that he always called a spade a spade.

Grinding his teeth, Nate walked over to the wastebasket. Slowly he smoothed out the paper to find a certain phone number.

CHAPTER FOUR

THROUGHOUT HER PREGNANCY Laurel hadn’t developed cravings for any particular foods. However she’d always loved peanut butter and plum jam sandwiches. For the last few months she’d enjoyed one every night before going to bed. Tonight was no exception.

While she was putting the bread and jars back in the fridge, the phone rang. She ignored it. At nine-thirty it was probably a business call for Brent, who was in the family room with Julie and the kids watching TV.

A couple of seconds later, her brother-in-law appeared in the kitchen doorway. He wore a grim expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Nate Hawkins.”

Her pulse rate doubled. She stared at Brent. “That’s good news. I wasn’t sure he’d get back to me at all.”

“He hurt you a lot. You’re sure this is what you want?”

“Absolutely. The sooner I get to the bottom of things, the sooner I can put the whole experience away. I’ll answer it in here.” She reached for the cordless phone.

“I’ll go back to the study and hang up.”

“Thanks, Brent.”

He still hadn’t made a move to leave. His protective instincts were out in full measure, and Laurel loved him for being so good to her.

“It’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“I don’t want him to upset you and send you into early labor.”

She smiled. “If I didn’t have a strong constitution, I’d probably have had the baby on Saturday night. Don’t worry. Anything he has to say to me now couldn’t have the same shock value. Trust me.”

“It looks like I’m going to have to. Holler if you need help.”

Laurel nodded, then clicked the “on” button. She put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Hawk? I appreciate your calling me.”

“Any thanks should go to my brother.” She winced. “I know it’s late so I won’t keep you. If you really want to talk, it would be better accomplished in person.”

Clipped and to the point. His hostile attitude was so far removed from the tone of the letter he’d sent her six months ago, she had trouble believing this was the same man.

Over the years, there’d only been a few times when he’d phoned Scott at their base residence and she’d happened to answer the phone first. On those occasions he’d been friendly and polite.

She leaned against the counter, more puzzled than ever. “I was hoping you’d agree to meet me. I live in Aurora. There’s a Fordham’s Pancake House just off the exit for Aurora at Washington Avenue.”

“I know the spot.”

“Good.” Her hand tightened on the receiver. “Depending on your schedule, I could meet you there anytime Tuesday or Thursday of this next week.” Thursday she had an appointment with her OB, but she would change it if she had to. “That is, if you haven’t used up all your leave.”

Those were the days Julie didn’t work. Laurel could borrow her car to drive the short distance to the restaurant. Under the circumstances, she was certain Hawk would prefer meeting her on neutral ground. Laurel felt the same way. She had no desire to involve her family in any further unpleasantness.

“Tuesday’s fine,” he said without hesitation. “Shall we say 10:00 a.m.?”

It was evident he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, too.

“I’ll be there. Thank you for getting back to me so quickly.”

“Make no mistake. I’m doing this for Spade.”

The line went dead.

For Spade? She translated that to mean he wouldn’t have given her the time of day otherwise.

A perplexed Laurel put the phone back on the charger. Without conscious thought she reached for her sandwich, wondering what kind of grievance he could possibly have against her.

Julie soon appeared in the kitchen, watching her anxiously.