“Pretty much done, except for the cleanup.”
Once they were in the kitchen, Gage half sat, half tumbled into the nearest chair. He did look awful. She started to tell him he should be home in bed, then caught herself. Home, apparently, wasn’t an option.
But that didn’t explain why he was here, in her grandmother’s kitchen.
“You hungry?” she asked instead of one of the dozen questions running through her head.
“I’d eat if you’re offering.”
“I am. And how about a shower?”
In response, a spark flickered in his tired eyes.
Her comment hadn’t been the least suggestive, yet he’d taken it that way. Or was it she who’d subconsciously implied something suggestive?
“You can shower in the hall bathroom while I fix lunch,” she added, just in case he’d misunderstood her. “I think there’s still some of Grandpa’s old clothes around here. They won’t fit well, but they’re clean.”
He nodded, his smile tired, but grateful.
Some minutes later, she returned from rummaging through an assortment of cardboard boxes stacked in the corner of the basement. The faded T-shirt would be too big around the waist and the men’s cotton pajama bottoms too short in the leg for Gage, but it couldn’t be helped.
She set the folded clothes on the floor outside the bathroom door. Her hand poised to knock, she instead waited, breathing slowly and listening to the sound of the running shower. Her heart beat a fraction faster. Gage stood on the other side of the door—stark naked and with hot water streaming down every inch of his body.
They’d showered together frequently during their marriage, the two of them squeezing into the motor home’s tiny bathroom. She didn’t recall lack of elbow room as being a problem. In fact, finding creative ways to utilize the cramped space had proven a thoroughly enjoyable experience.
Aubrey’s vivid imagination went far afield before she roused herself and stifled it. Gage naked and showering wasn’t something she needed to be thinking of, particularly after her little speech the other day about not being ready to date him again.
Besides, she doubted they could still fit in that tiny shower. She’d been skinnier then and so had Gage.
It might be interesting to try, the pesky voice inside her teased.
Yeah, interesting. And stupid.
Her leave of absence was up in five weeks, and she’d be returning to her job in Tucson, free, God willing, of whatever unreasonable fear had gotten a hold on her since Jesse and Maureen’s deaths.
You hear me? she told the voice. Stupid.
The voice didn’t answer.
Firming her resolve, Aubrey knocked briskly on the bathroom door and hollered, “The clothes are on the floor outside the door.”
“Thanks,” came a muffled reply, and then the water shut off.
Oh…my.
Since continuing to stand there would only invite images of Gage drying himself, or drying her, Aubrey retreated to the kitchen, stopping first at the pantry for another can of tuna fish.
She made two sandwiches, slicing them diagonally before arranging them on a plate. Guessing Gage’s appetite hadn’t decreased in the intervening years since they’d dined together, she spooned out a bowl of cottage cheese and topped it with some of Mrs. Payne’s home-canned peaches. Aubrey was just pouring a glass of milk when Gage came into the kitchen and promptly fell on the meal.
Conversation came to a complete standstill as he consumed the food with the speed and voracity of a grizzly bear newly awakened from a winter-long hibernation.
“Slow down,” she warned, sitting in the chair beside him. “You’ll choke if you’re not careful.”
He mumbled something that might have been, “Good,” or “More.” She wasn’t sure which.
“Would you like another sandwich?”
Mouth crammed with peaches, Gage tilted his head from side to side.
“A half a sandwich?”
He nodded vigorously.
She took the liberty of pouring him a second glass of milk before rising and then took her sweet time fixing the half sandwich, all the while studying him discreetly from the corner of her eye.
Her late grandfather’s clothes were indeed a poor fit, yet Gage managed to look sexy as hell in them. It might have been his still-damp, uncombed hair falling forward over his brow, or the bare feet and impressively muscular length of calf extending out from beneath the hems of the too-short pajama legs.
Yes, maturity definitely agreed with Gage Raintree. As did firefighting. No small miracle some woman hadn’t snapped him up. In a town the size of Blue Ridge, he was surely one of the most eligible bachelors, if not the most eligible.
Having at last satisfied the need to gorge himself, he slowed his rate of eating to something resembling that of a human being.
“Thanks. That hit the spot.” He used the napkin she’d set out to wipe his mouth.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday. Breakfast. Not counting the PowerBar I had for dinner last night.”
“And before that?”
He arched one eyebrow. “Lunch the previous day. At the community center.”
Ah. Where they’d kissed. Like Aubrey needed reminding.
Gage pushed his plate away, and she reached for his dirty dishes, thankful for the distraction.
“Leave them,” he ordered in a low voice and placed his hand over hers.
“But—”
“The dishes can wait. Talk to me for a few minutes.”
Aubrey watched, spellbound, as he folded her smaller hand into his larger one. “A-a-about what?”
His thumb traced small circles on the sensitive skin behind her knuckles and though she knew it was wrong as wrong could be, she let him continue.
“Why did you leave me?”
She tried to jerk her hand away, but he refused to relinquish it.
“Tell me,” he said, holding her gaze as firmly as he held her hand.
Aubrey went still. “You know why. To return to school.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“We were just kids, not ready for marriage. We couldn’t even support ourselves without your parents’ help.”
“A lot of couples start out on a shoestring. They manage.”
“Yes, if they’re committed to each other they do.”
“And you weren’t committed to me?”
She chewed her bottom lip, debating on how to simplify a complicated answer. “High school was always easy for me. I aced every class, sometimes without cracking a book. But college was a whole different story. You know that. I finished the second semester of my freshman year two-tenths of a grade point away from being expelled. My father didn’t understand and came uncorked. I headed to Blue Ridge the day after school let out. To escape, though I told myself I was just taking a break. And then, there was you.”
“Just like every summer,” Gage said, his expression hard to read.
“No, you’re wrong.” She swallowed before continuing. Twice. “That summer we made love for the first time, and you proposed.”
“You didn’t have to accept my proposal if you really wanted to go back to school.”
Aubrey stared out the kitchen window, seeing not her grandmother’s yard but a view of the Raintree ranch from the motor home’s back door.
“I didn’t think I wanted to go back. I was in love in you.” And she had been, body and soul. Probably from the first day they’d met in Sunday school.
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
She turned to look at him. “Tell me your proposal wasn’t spontaneous and that you thought everything through before making it.”
“It was spontaneous,” he admitted. “But I don’t regret it.”
“Neither do I.”
“We had six great weeks of marriage.”
“One great week of marriage and five weeks of fighting,” she corrected him.
He grinned. “That’
s not they way I remember it.”
“Are you kidding?” She shot him a disbelieving look. “We fought more in those five weeks than most couples do in five years.”
“We also made love more than most couples.”
Yeah. At least ten of those times in a shower the size of coat closet.
“A great sex life isn’t enough to base a marriage on.”
He chuckled. “At least you admit the sex was great.”
She smiled along with him as resisting was an exercise in futility. “That wasn’t all we did right. We had a lot of fun, too, when we weren’t at each other’s throats.”
“Not enough for you to stay married to me.” His remark sobered them both. “Did you call your father and tell him to come get you?” His fingers tightened on hers.
“God, no! Is that what you thought?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“I swear, Gage. His visit was entirely unexpected.”
“So you hadn’t planned on switching your major to nursing and not tell me?”
“That was strictly my father’s idea.” She sat up straight and squared her shoulders, steeling herself for the hard part. “But it was good one, and I’m grateful to him for having it. If I hadn’t returned to Tucson and college, I might never have become a nurse.”
Aubrey’s father had appeared one night out of the blue, midway through the summer. He’d banged on their motor home door, insisting he speak with her. Once inside, he’d presented her with a proposition that included her changing her major from premed to nursing—a still difficult study course but with less pressure and less competition. He’d pulled some strings at the university and gotten her admitted into the nursing program. The catch was she had to return the third week of August in time for the fall semester.
Gage’s grip on Aubrey’s fingers relaxed. “I never wanted to hold you back. That wasn’t the reason I proposed.”
“You could have come with me to Tucson.”
“And lived off your parents’ charity? I don’t think so,” he scoffed.
Alexander Stuart had generously offered to supplement the newlyweds’ income, enabling them to live in an apartment off campus while Aubrey attended school full-time. Gage’s pride hadn’t allowed him to accept the offer. She understood now what she hadn’t then. It was important to Gage he be able to support himself and his wife without assistance. Not an easy task for a twenty-year-old with no college and no job skills besides ranching.
“We basically lived off your parents when you think about it,” she ventured.
His eyebrows drew together. “That wasn’t the same. We both worked on the ranch and earned our keep.”
“You’re right,” Aubrey relented. She saw no reason to rehash a ten-year-old argument.
She didn’t think her father had intended to break up her and Gage’s marriage, not consciously anyway, but his attempt to facilitate her return to school had done exactly that by driving a wedge between her and Gage that grew wider with each day. Had they been older and more experienced, they might have found a solution. As it was, tensions mounted in the days following her father’s visit, escalating in a final blowout that ended with Aubrey packing her bags.
“I couldn’t win for losing,” Gage said, letting go of her hand. “Not after your dad dropped his bomb.”
“How so?” Her fingers felt oddly vulnerable without his wrapped around them.
“What choice did we have but to divorce? If I insisted you stay in Blue Ridge, you would have come to resent me for forcing you to give up your dream of working in medicine. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have,” he interrupted when she started to speak. “And if I went with you to Tucson and let your father support us, I’d have lost my self-respect and been miserable. Probably made both our lives miserable. The only other choice was a three-year separation, and I don’t think our marriage could have survived while you finished college.” He blew out a breath. “Whichever way I turned, I was screwed.”
“Oh, Gage, I’m sorry.” She hadn’t realized until now how cornered and helpless he must have felt, and it saddened her.
He shrugged. “So, I admitted I was wrong. Then came the divorce.”
“I wish I’d known that at the time.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. Maybe we were doomed from the beginning.”
“Have you ever wondered what would’ve happened to us if we stuck it out?” he asked.
She considered lying. There was still a considerable attraction between them and she’d be courting trouble by giving him false hope. In the end, she opted for the truth. She owed him that much.
“Sometimes, sure. More so in the beginning.”
Closing his eyes, he ran a hand through his nearly dry hair and down the back of his head. He looked so tired.
“You’re ready to keel over,” she said. “What say we call it a day, and you get some sleep?” Speaking for herself, Aubrey could use a break from all the emotional unloading.
“All right.”
“Nap on the couch if you like. Grandma’s next door at Mrs. Payne’s. I’ll take lunch over to them and stay awhile, leave you alone to get some rest.”
“Nah.” He stood, bracing one hand on the table and using the other to hold the sagging waistband of the pajama bottoms. “Think I’ll head over to the volunteer fire station.”
“You can’t possibly work in your condition,” she insisted in her best bossy nurse voice.
“Believe me, I’m going to sleep,” he said with a laugh. “The old mot—” He stopped laughing and closed his mouth before continuing. “There’s a bunk at the station where I can crash.”
“Okay. In that case, you’re free to go.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He gave her a mock salute, and Aubrey shoved him through the kitchen door, laughing at the sight he made in her grandfather’s pajama bottoms.
On the front porch, she waved goodbye as he backed his pickup out the driveway, her emotions bouncing from one end of the spectrum to the other.
She was glad they’d talked and cleared the air of a few lingering issues. But by doing so, she opened herself to him, and the walls between them, walls she’d erected for both her own and his protection, had begun to crumble. If he kept holding her hand, kept staring into her eyes like he did, those walls might topple down completely.
Then where would she be? And more importantly, what would she do about it?
Chapter 5
Aubrey lightly pressed the back of her hand to her grandmother’s forehead. The older woman lay in bed, her papery cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink and her eyes unusually bright.
“You mean to tell me, with all those years of training and all that fancy equipment, you still take someone’s temperature by touch?”
“Why mess with success?” Aubrey didn’t require a digital ear thermometer to tell her Grandma Rose’s temperature was well over a hundred degrees and climbing.
“I’m fine. A bit of allergies is all.” She pushed aside the sheet covering her as if to rise. “Happens every summer.”
Aubrey snatched the edge of sheet and deftly replaced it. “Stay put.”
“Like I have a choice,” Grandma Rose groused. She’d made excellent progress during the past week with her physical therapy, graduating to short bouts around the house with a walker. But she was still a far cry from getting out of bed or a chair unassisted.
The past week had also been noteworthy for another reason. Aubrey hadn’t seen or heard from Gage once since the day she’d made him lunch. Not that she had any reason to see or hear from him, she reminded herself firmly, nor did she necessarily want to. She would, however, like to know if everything was all right with him at home and if he’d resolved his differences with his father—strictly from the standpoint of a concerned friend, of course.
As promised, Kenny Junior had shown up to replace the threshold and Gus to change the round doorknobs to lever ones. She’d casuall
y queried them both about Gage, but they hadn’t seen or heard from him, either.
“How sore is your throat?” she asked her grandmother, banning thoughts of Gage to the back of her mind where they rightfully belonged.
“What makes you think I have a sore throat?”
Aubrey sighed. “You haven’t touched the breakfast I brought you and made a terrible face when I forced you to take a few sips of apple juice.”
“Are you always so mean to your patients?”
“Only when they try to pull the wool over my eyes. Now, how sore is your throat? Scratchy or agonizing?” She gently prodded her grandmother’s neck beneath her jaw.
“Leaning more toward the scratchy side.” Her grandmother winced and jerked away.
“Uh-huh.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you,” Aubrey lied. She cradled her grandmother’s face in her hands and turned her head toward the window.
“What are you doing?”
“Open your mouth.”
Her grandmother obliged, but made it clear she didn’t like Aubrey peering down her red and swollen throat.
Aubrey went into the small bathroom and returned a minute later brandishing a bottle of extra-strength acetaminophen. She leaned down and kissed her grandmother’s burning forehead.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to the kitchen to break these up into smaller pieces for you.”
There was no doubt in her mind Grandma Rose needed to see a physician. When she obediently popped the tablet pieces in her mouth and accepted the glass of water, Aubrey realized her grandmother was sicker than she let on.
“I’m taking you into Pineville, Grandma.”
“What for?”
“To see your doctor. If he’s not available, we’ll go the hospital emergency room.”
“Nonsense.”
Aubrey went to her grandmother’s closet and slid open the door. “Would you like to change first or go in your nightgown?”
“All this fuss over a little fever.”
“You have a high fever.”
“How would you know? You never even took my temperature.”
Just Kate: His Only Wife (Bestselling Author Collection) Page 21