Another Man's Wife. Rebecca Winters

the dishes, he admitted that getting married could be a mistake. But apparently he said it might be an even bigger one if they didn’t find out what there could be between them.”

      “That’s interesting,” Nate murmured, “and we know Dad’s traditional enough to insist on marriage, but we still don’t know what she’s all about.”

      “Nope, and Dad isn’t the type to tell us something personal about her until he’s ready.”

      Nate was about to say their father might never be ready, but his cell phone rang. Curious, he pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID. “It’s the ski shop.”

      “Already?”

      “You heard Dad earlier. We’re in charge now.” He clicked on. “This is Nate. What’s up?”

      “Hi, Nate.”

      “Nina?”

      “I wouldn’t be bothering you if I didn’t think this might be important.”

      “Go ahead.”

      “A woman phoned the shop a few minutes ago looking for a Major Hawkins. She said she’d seen you driving the Blazer and wanted to talk to you, but she didn’t leave a name or number.”

      Laurel Pierce had her nerve, he’d say that much.

      “For security reasons I didn’t give out any phone numbers. However, I did tell her you’d probably be in the shop sometime tomorrow. In case it was someone from the military, I thought you should know.”

      “Thanks, Nina. You did exactly the right thing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      He clicked off the phone, then gave his brother a speaking glance. “Spade’s wife is looking for me.”

      “After the way you treated her, you’re not really surprised, are you?”

      “I thought you were on my side.”

      “Always.”

      “She knows I know her secret. It appears the woman has no shame.”

      “I agree it looks that way,” Rick murmured.

      “It is that way.”

      “What are you going to do about it?”

      “Nothing. If she has the temerity to show up at the ski shop, it’ll be a wasted trip for her. I didn’t tell you I saw her this morning while you were inside getting Dad.”

      “Did she try to talk to you again?”

      “No, but then I didn’t encourage it.”

      Rick eyed him for a moment before turning his head away.

      Nate saw his brother rummage in his pocket for something.

      “Here. I picked these up in the lodge.” Rick handed him a candy bar. “What do you say we go home and take a couple of runs on Eagles’ Nest for old times’ sake?”

      “You’re on.” An afternoon tearing the mountain apart wasn’t like taking to the sky, but it would do. Anything to put off thinking for a little while.

      Within an hour they’d returned to Copper Mountain. After they’d donned their old ski outfits and Laplander hats, they went to the laundry room off the kitchen, where their mom had made a place for the family to store their skis and poles.

      Her favorite pair of G-41 Vokyls were still there, as if waiting for her to grab them for a quick run. Nate noticed his brother staring at them for a moment before he reached for his own.

      One of these days they would stop reacting to reminders of her and the avalanche that had come out of nowhere to sweep her and two friends to their deaths.

      A series of storms had hit in early September. Carrying their skis, the three women had hiked up in the back country to get the first fresh tracks of the year. Normally fall wasn’t avalanche season. Colorado Search and Rescue speculated that they’d dropped down from a cornice, which had started a massive slide.

      It shouldn’t have happened.

      Spade’s crash shouldn’t have happened, either.

      Nate’s mouth thinned. He collected his skis and poles. “Ready?” he called to his brother.

      “As I’ll ever be. Let’s go.”

      He followed Rick through the house to the front door. A wind had come up while they were inside, and it had started to snow. They’d be lucky to get in one run before it grew into a blizzard and the lift shut down.

      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.”