talk about? It was ages ago, and we’ve both moved on.”
“But I don’t want you feeling like you have to run for cover every time you see my pickup truck coming down the road. Blue Ridge is a small town. You can’t walk across your front lawn without having to stop and chat with at least three people.”
“I’m not going to run for cover every time I see you,” she scoffed.
He gave her a skeptical look.
“Really.” She hated that he knew her so well. But then, how could he not? They’d spent fifteen straight summers together, the last one as Mr. and Mrs. Raintree.
A loud click sounded, signaling her gas tank was full. Grateful for small favors, Aubrey jammed the nozzle back into the side of the pump. “I have to go. Grandma’s expecting me.” She slid in behind the wheel.
“Drive carefully. There’s a lot of loose gravel on the roads.” He shut her door for her.
Aubrey wiggled her fingers in farewell, then started the SUV. Without meaning to, she sped out of the parking lot, succumbing to the urge to put as much distance between herself and Gage as possible.
Two miles outside of Pineville her heart rate finally dropped to double digits, and her breathing slowed. The worst was over, she told herself. She ran into Gage and had lived to tell about it. Next time wouldn’t be so hard. Right?
Aubrey fervently hoped so. If not, this could be the longest six weeks of her life.
SOMETHING MUST HAVE happened. An accident maybe? Aubrey hit the brakes and came to a stop behind a Hummer hauling a trailer loaded with ATVs. She flipped up the sun visor and, squinting, stared out the windshield. For as far up the highway as she could see, traffic was at a standstill. It was then she realized there were no cars coming from the opposite direction.
After several minutes, people started getting out of their vehicles and milling around. Resigned to wait, Aubrey lowered her window and shut off her engine.
She didn’t relish being stuck in a traffic jam, but at least she was safely away from Gage. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the headrest and allowed the memories to come. Pain and hurt accompanied the steady stream of images filling her mind, convincing Aubrey that, despite her earlier conviction, she was anything but over Gage.
He’d been her first for many things. Her first kiss. Her first real date. Her first love. Her first—and only—husband. Without warning, her eyes began to tear.
“You okay?”
Aubrey sat bolt upright at the intrusion. A middle-aged man stood next to her open window.
“Ah…yeah,” she mumbled, embarrassed at being caught on the verge of crying. “Just tired.”
“I’m going down the line, passing the word. There’s a wreck a mile or two up the road.”
“Is it serious?”
“A semi and four cars, they’re saying. Road’s completely blocked in both directions.”
The distant wail of a siren grew louder. As the ambulance passed, adrenaline flooded Aubrey’s system, one of the many side effects of working in a hospital E.R., she supposed. Though, for her, it had recently become worse.
“Hope you brought a good book to read.” The middle-aged man rapped her door and gave her a toothy smile before moving on. “We’re gonna be here a while.”
“Thanks,” she called after him, her breathing, thankfully, slowing.
No book, but she had brought along some medical periodicals on health care for the aged and how to live independently after a hip fracture. She took one from the seat beside her and thumbed through it. Hopefully, she’d find something beneficial to her grandmother and compelling enough to keep her mind off the traffic jam. And Gage.
“Aubrey.” He stood at her window.
Her hands involuntarily jerked, and the newsletter dropped onto her lap. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m about a dozen cars behind you. I walked up to check on you.”
A dozen cars? He must have pulled out of the gas station right behind her.
“I’m fine.” She collected the scattered newsletter pages.
“So we’re back to that?”
“What?”
He leaned down and rested his forearms on her open window. “One-or two-word sentences.”
Damn. He did know her well. “I guess.”
His arms were tanned, the dusting of soft brown hair on them denser than she remembered. She shouldn’t stare, but it was easier looking at his arms than his face.
“Is talking with me that tough?” he asked, readjusting his cowboy hat. “I remember when we’d stay up half the night talking. After we got married, we’d stay up half the night making l—”
“Details aren’t necessary. I remember.”
As did Gage, if his wide grin was any indication.
What was with him, anyway? They’d seen each other occasionally through the years, most recently at her grandfather’s funeral. Those encounters had always been on the tense side and notably brief. Had enough time finally gone by that they could relax in each other’s company and be themselves? It appeared so for Gage.
“Two whole sentences. That’s a start.” He chuckled and strode away.
But not to his truck. Instead, he cut behind her SUV and came up the passenger side. Before she could protest, he’d settled in beside her. Her glower had no dimming affects on the twinkle lighting his dark brown eyes.
“I don’t remember inviting you in.”
In response, he removed his cowboy hat and set it on the dash. “Forget making yourself comfortable, you won’t be staying long.”
“Another thirty minutes, I’d say. The sheriff’s office called in a special tow truck for the semi, and it hasn’t arrived yet.”
Siren wailing, the ambulance passed them going in the opposite direction toward Pineville. Momentarily distracted, Aubrey looked out her window. “I hope no one’s injured.”
“Two. Seriously, but not critically.”
“How do you know all this?” She shot him a quizzical glance.
“I made a call on my cell phone. I have a friend who works in the newsroom at the radio station in Pineville.”
“A friend?”
He turned toward her. “A good friend.” His expression hinted at more.
“I’m happy for you.” She crossed her arms over her middle and told herself it was indigestion and not jealousy gnawing at her stomach. For all she cared, he could have a thousand good friends.
