Another Man's Wife. Rebecca Winters
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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.
He’s gone now, so he can’t ask your forgiveness or make amends. I would do both if I knew what was wrong.
It hurts to think that someone Scott loved like a brother still harbors so much bitterness toward him. Whatever it was must have been very serious to wipe out nine years of friendship.
To be frank, I’m still asking myself how you could’ve written such a beautiful letter at Scott’s death, only to show me a completely different side of you last night.
I’m assuming that when your leave is over, you’ll be returning to Holland. The last I heard about you, Duce said you were stationed at Leeuwarden, where you were testing the MLU jet with some other pilots from Norway and Belgium.
If ever the day comes when your anger subsides enough to tell me what went wrong, you can reach me by phone in Denver where I live.
He saw the phone number she’d written.
I guess I’m human enough to want life to be perfect. But as I found out years ago, life takes you down roads you hadn’t planned on traveling.
Wherever your road takes you, Hawk, I wish you luck. I mean that sincerely. Scott’s career in the Air Force wouldn’t have provided the same thrill for him if you hadn’t been a big part of it from the very beginning.
Fly high and watch your tail.
Laurel.
Nate stood there in shock.
If he’d expected anything, it would’ve been defensiveness on her part or an attempt to hide her culpability. Instead, nothing he’d read, either in her words or between the lines, suggested she felt an ounce of guilt.
His eyes closed. Laurel Pierce was a beautiful woman. Even in the last stage of pregnancy she looked as stunning as ever.
Had she always been this amoral?
Scott had married her out of high school. Two years younger than he was, she’d been plucked from her home at an early age. Perhaps it was the long separations from Scott while they were stationed overseas that had made her vulnerable to other men’s attention. One of them had given her a child….
As Nate’s father had once told him, being a hotshot pilot came at a price. If he was determined to have a career in the Air Force, he needed to keep that in mind if he wanted a family too.
At the time Nate had half listened to the warning. Not until now did he grasp the full essence of what his father had been trying to tell him. Though Scott hadn’t let it show, there’d obviously been trouble in the Pierce marriage.
“The pizza’s getting cold.”
His gaze flicked to his brother who’d just entered the kitchen.
“You took so long getting the drinks, I figured you’d decided to read her letter. What did she have to say?”
Nate held it out. “Go ahead. Then you’ll know I was right the first time.”
Rick took it from him.
Not waiting for a reaction, Nate picked up the drinks and headed for the living room, where Rick had set up a game of chess. Their father had taught them well, and only Rick could beat him.
Without their dad around, maybe Nate could outmaneuver his brother for a change. He was in the mood for a challenge.
Halfway through a can of pop, Rick joined him. He was still holding the damn letter.
“Let’s get started,” Nate muttered.
His brother didn’t sit down at the card table. “If she’s as guilty as you think she is, it took guts for her to write that letter after you rebuffed her not once, but twice.”
Rick was beginning to sound like their mother. When there was a problem, she always resorted to logic to make her sons see reason.
“I’m not sure the woman knows the difference between right and wrong.”
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” His brother was goading him like no one else could—and still get away with it.
“Don’t say anything else, Rick. We’re not little kids anymore.”
“That’s true,” he retorted. “Little kids make wild judgments without the necessary knowledge to back them up. Spade’s wife must really be hurting if she dared face you a third time. It isn’t like you to enjoy someone else’s pain.”
“She’s going to have another guy’s baby. That’s all the knowledge I need. Spade was my friend!” He could feel the veins standing out in his neck.
“But your friendship doesn’t include the woman he loved? Is that what you’re implying?”
“I didn’t know her.”
“You knew her through her husband’s eyes. She knew you the same way. In many respects that’s even more intimate,” he said as he placed the letter on the end table. “If she has anything to confess, it would make sense that you’re the one she’d turn to, given half a chance.”
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