Wife On His Doorstep. Alice Sharpe

her, coaching yet more tears from her eyes and a hopeless sob from her throat.

      Temporarily oblivious to anything but her own pain and frustration, Megan was startled when she felt two strong hands grip her shoulders. She looked up to see that the captain had moved close to her. Slowly, cautiously, he pulled her toward him, folding his arms around her. She was so miserable she lay her head against his hard chest, the edge of a black button biting into her cheek. He slowly patted her on the back, she assumed to offer comfort, and oddly enough, his embrace did just that—it comforted her.

      There was a feeling of safety to be held so gingerly, so carefully. He smelled like fresh air, and the warmth of his exhaled breaths touched her bare neck. It was with a sense of alarm that she suddenly noticed she was enjoying his attention. She straightened immediately. She would not leap from one man’s arms into another’s, even if the current pair were strong and welcoming in their hesitant, gentle way, and even if these arms were offering nothing but solace.

      He released her immediately, but she could feel his eyes on her. She felt set adrift, anchorless and thoroughly alarmed. “Thank you,” she whispered.

      He gave her a napkin that had escaped the fast-food restaurant cleanup.

      “I don’t even know your name. Your first name, I mean.”

      “Jonathan,” he said. “John.”

      “John,” she repeated.

      “Are you feeling better now?”

      She nodded. “I’m really not like this, weepy and everything. Normally, I’m very controlled.”

      “I’m sure you are,” he said, his wonderful voice sounding anything but sure.

      “I’m sorry I’m such a pain—”

      “I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said, cutting her off. “I was rude. I’d chalk it up to stress or fatigue, but I believe you’ve cornered the markets in those departments. No, please don’t cry again, Megan. Okay, where does your uncle live?”

      She willed the tears she could feel burning behind her eyes to stay put. “Three miles east of here, even further out of town. I know it’s late—”

      “I live another ten miles east of that, so you can see it’s no bother. Besides, in few minutes you’ll be with your uncle. Family, that’s what you need at a time like this. The welcoming embrace of your family. Just tell me when to turn.”

      He hadn’t said it but what Megan knew he meant was three more miles and he’d get this crazy woman out of his car and out of his life!

      The drive was made in silence. As Megan was reluctant to get back on the main street, she guided him through the back roads, which made the drive twice as long, but if he noticed the discrepancy, he didn’t mention it.

      Until recently Uncle Adrian had lived in a condominium right in the heart of Portland. Business problems had forced him to downgrade his life-style, so that now his address was rural. In fact, it would be almost impossible to imagine any place further removed from his former abode than his present dwelling, a little tract house so close to the street there wasn’t even room for a sidewalk.

      Well, that wouldn’t last, not now that good old Robert had bailed the business out of a hole. Soon, thanks to Robert, Uncle Adrian would be moving back to town. That was, if Robert didn’t rescind his help and leave Uncle Adrian high and dry—Good grief, what in the world had made Megan think she’d be welcome here?

      It was too late to change her mind, though, she decided after another peek at John’s profile. He yawned into his hand and rubbed his temple, and she sat back, prepared to take on Uncle Adrian.

      “It’s the pink one,” Megan said, gesturing to the humble little house right before she caught sight of the gray car pulling into the narrow driveway. Red taillights flicked off as she watched, and the driver’s door opened. Robert dashed between the car and the house.

      “Don’t stop,” she snapped. “Don’t stop!”

      “Not again?”

      “I should have known. Robert isn’t the kind of man to sit by the telephone while another person affects his fate, especially me. He’ll keep checking everywhere he thinks I might go until he finds me.”

      The captain kept driving. “How did he get here before us?”

      “I took all that time blubbering,” she mumbled.

      Half a mile down the road, John pulled the truck to the curb, turned off the ignition and once again stared at her.

      “You can’t avoid your family forever,” he said softly, his voice comforting now, warm and easy, all hint of sarcasm gone.

      “I can try.”

      “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to face them.”

      “Listen, John,” she said boldly. “Sooner or later I will face them. Sooner or later, I’ll tell them all to back off and leave me alone. I’ll rebuild my life, hold my chin up high and be a role model for women everywhere. But why do I have to do it tonight? Why can’t I have just one night to sort out my thoughts and get my life back in order? Is that so much to ask?”

      “I suppose not,” he admitted. With a flick, he turned on the interior lights. She saw him glance at his watch.

      “What time is it?”

      “Almost midnight.”

      “Oh, brother, no wonder I feel like a sack of cement. I’m so sorry—”

      Smothering another yawn with his fist, he waved her apologies aside. “Megan, I’ll be frank with you. I have to get up and drive back down to the pier at six o’clock tomorrow morning because there’s a guy coming to service the navigation equipment, then I have to marry two couples, which is an ordeal for me even when I’m well rested. I live twenty minutes from here. I have a guest house. Why don’t you come to my place, spend the night with the door firmly locked and all the privacy you could possibly want, and tomorrow I’ll drive you anywhere you desire. How about it?”

      No getting around it, his plan had appeal. For one thing, she didn’t have the nerve to ask him to drive her back into town where she might bunk with a girlfriend. Besides, Robert would never dream to look for her at this man’s house and she really did need a little time to get her head on straight. She snuck a peek at John Vermont and found his expression had changed from earnest to alarmed and she wondered what she’d done to warrant it. Too tired to worry about his feelings when her own were such a quagmire, she said, “Thanks. I’ll take you up on your offer.”

      He nodded. He didn’t look the least bit pleased. Megan added, “I’ll call my mom from your house so she won’t call out the national guard.”

      “The car phone is right in front of you. Help yourself,” he said.

      Megan picked up the phone and made the call. She was evasive about where she was and with whom and promised to call again tomorrow.

      Tomorrow. How could a word that promised distance suddenly loom so prominently on the horizon?

      

      Twenty minutes later John opened the door of his house and ushered Megan Morison inside. He was immediately set upon by his yellow Lab, Lily, who licked his hand, wagged her tail, cast Megan a wary look and shot into the night.

      John saw Megan’s gaze drift from the tile floors to the loft area above. When she lowered her eyes and looked into the main room, he knew she took in the wall of windows that faced the river, though it was so dark and wet now that the beauty outside was invisible.

      “Obviously a man’s place,” she said as she looked around. “Is there a Mrs. Vermont?”

      “There was. There isn’t anymore.”

      “Oh...I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be. I’m