His Only Wife

“Firefighting is special. You make a real difference in the world.”

Genuine admiration tinged Aubrey’s voice, and his chest swelled.

“Like being a nurse?

“Firefighting is nothing like being a nurse. You put your life on the line for others. That takes courage and daring.” She tilted her head and stared him square in the face. “I have to say, Gage, you really impress me. Not that I wasn’t—”

She didn’t have a chance to finish, because he hauled her into his arms, lifted her onto her toes and brought her mouth to within a tiny fraction of his.

Her green eyes went wide. “If you’re thinking of kissing me, think again.”

“Oh, I’m going to kiss you, all right.”

Dear Reader,

Some years ago when my family was visiting Young, Arizona, I had the opportunity to meet the Payson Hotshots. The crew, fresh from the front line of the fire, strode into the Antler Café where we were having dinner, turning every head in the place. In speaking to them, we learned the citizens of Young were helping out by hosting the wilderness firefighters—feeding them and putting them up for the night at the local community center.

That weekend while I stood on our cabin porch watching the fire blaze in the nearby mountains, I wondered about the Hotshots and the amazing individuals who chose to work in such a dangerous profession. I also wondered about the people who loved them and made up their families.

From that experience, Gage and Aubrey’s story was born. His Only Wife is my first Harlequin American Romance, a line that I’m thrilled to be writing for. I hope you enjoy reading about Gage and Aubrey as much as I enjoyed writing about them.

Warmest wishes,

Cathy McDavid

P.S. I love hearing from readers. Visit my Web site at www.cathymcdavid.com to drop me a line.

His Only Wife

Cathy McDavid

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

For the past eleven years Cathy McDavid has been juggling a family, a job, and writing and doing pretty well at it except for the cooking and housecleaning part. Mother of boy and girl teenage twins, she manages the near impossible by working every day with her husband of twenty years at their commercial construction company. They survive by not bringing work home and not bringing home to the office. A mutual love of all things Western also helps. Horses and ranch animals have been a part of Cathy’s life since she moved to Arizona as a child and asked her mother for riding lessons. She can hardly remember a time when she couldn’t walk outside and pet a soft, velvety nose (or beak, or snout) whenever the mood struck.

This book is dedicated to the courageous men and women who serve as wilderness firefighters in the western United States and all over the world. It has been a joy writing about you and an honor to make your acquaintance.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

Tourists in motor homes, cowboys in pickup trucks, and teenagers in hot rods with the radios blasting.

Not much had changed about the Pineville service station over the last decade from what Aubrey Stuart could see, except maybe the price of gas.

And her.

She guided her mini SUV toward the far island and parked beside a pump. Pushing the door open with one hand, she grabbed her tiny purse off the front passenger seat and stepped outside. In the blink of an eye, she exchanged air-conditioned comfort for the heat of Arizona high country in late June.

While waiting for her credit card purchase to be authorized, she removed the cap from her gas tank and eyed the constant stream of vehicles coming and going. Everything about this place was familiar to Aubrey. During the four-hour drive from Tucson, she’d steeled herself against the pain that the sight of Pineville always brought on during those few short visits she’d made through the years. But to her vast relief, there wasn’t any. Only a twinge of melancholy.

Could it be she was really and truly over Gage Raintree?

A high-pitched electronic beep drew her attention to the gas pump and the message scrolling across the panel in vivid green letters.

“Cash only, see clerk inside,” Aubrey read out loud and sighed. With another hour’s drive still ahead of her, she had wanted this to be a quick in-and-out stop.

Better to be safe than sorry, she decided. Thirty-foot drop-offs in some places made the winding dirt road to her grandmother’s home in Blue Ridge treacherous. Running out of gas halfway there would be at best an inconvenience, at worse a disaster.

Slamming the door of her SUV shut, she headed toward the minimart, extracting a twenty-dollar bill from her purse as she went. Ten years earlier, on the day she left Blue Ridge, she’d walked through this same door. In some ways, it felt like a lifetime ago. In other ways, only yesterday.

Back then, she’d been all innocence, painfully shy, and skinny as a broomstick. The brainy older daughter of renowned heart surgeon Alexander Stuart. Her younger sister, Annie, used to call her a nerd, and rightfully so. Aubrey hadn’t just fit the description, she’d defined it. With the exception of Gage Raintree, the male population at large hardly noticed she existed.

“Enough already,” she grumbled, snapping out of her reverie. An hour away from Blue Ridge and already she had a bad case of Gage Raintree on the brain. What would it be like when she arrived at her grandmother’s?

Her movements purposeful, Aubrey strode into the minimart and went straight to stand in line behind several other people. The store was packed, taxing the sole clerk’s limited abilities. She felt sorry for the poor kid when the man ahead of her vehemently complained about the inconvenience.

Her turn finally came. “Twenty dollars on pump three.” She smiled pleasantly, handing the clerk her money. “And I need a receipt, please.”

He appeared grateful that she wasn’t going to bite his head off like everyone else. “Anything else, ma’am?”

“No, thank you.” She took the receipt and started toward the door. At the sound of a familiar voice, her knees locked.

“Aubrey?”

She stood immobile and willed her gaze not to fly around the store.

“Aubrey, is that you?”

What were the odds of him being here? In this convenience store, at the exact same moment as her? Well, this was the last gas station on the road out of town.

“Aubrey Stuart?” the voice called again.

She had to look. There was simply no avoiding it. And, well, he didn’t sound mad. That was a good sign, right? Mustering her courage, she turned slowly around and came face-to-face with her ex-husband.

“I thought you weren’t arriving until tomorrow,” he said.

“Hello, Gage.” Her voice quivered. It had a tendency to do that when she was nervous or uncomfortable or, like now, both. “How are you?”

“Good. How ‘bout yourself?” He moved ahead in line, closing the distance between them. “You look great.”

His lingering appraisal of her appearance caused Aubrey’s cheeks to heat. Never was she more aware of the fact that her younger, stick-figure self had filled out in all the right places.

“So do you,” she blurted. “Look great, that is.”

Of all things to gush forth from between her lips. Complete mental dysfunction was her only excuse. Gage did that to her. He always had.

But, sweet heaven, he did look great.

Tall to start with, he’d outgrown his once lanky form. There was no shortage of muscles bunching beneath his T-shirt. He wore his nearly black hair shorter than before. The wavy ends poked out from beneath his weathered cowboy hat to curl attractively at the base of his neck. His boots were scruffy, as always, and he needed a shave. Not that the dark stubble shadowing his jaw detracted from his good looks. Quite the contrary.

Rather than risk another embarrassing blunder, she forced her stiff legs to take a step toward the double glass doors at the front of the store. She’d known seeing him again would be a bit awkward, but she hadn’t expected it to be so…disconcerting. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Hold up.” He retrieved his change and plastic sack containing his purchases. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“No!” At his bemused expression, she checked herself. “That’s not necessary. You’re obviously in a hurry.”

“Actually, I’m not.”

The sexy half smile he turned on her was potent as ever. Hoping to minimize its effects, she grabbed for the door handle nearest her and yanked, almost tearing her hand off in the process. The door rattled, but didn’t open. Too late, she realized she’d pulled instead of pushed. Gage came up behind her, reached around and braced his hand on the glass panel near her head.

“Here. Let me get that for you.” The door swung open, and a hot breeze struck Aubrey in the face.

She glanced over her shoulder. Big mistake.

His face hovered a few inches above hers. If she shifted slightly, she could find herself nestled in the crook of his arm. It was a place she’d been often enough as a teenager and remembered well.

A warning bell the size of Liberty herself rang inside Aubrey’s head.

“Thanks.” She shoved through the door and flashed him a smile she hoped radiated confidence. “See you around.”

He followed, his long strides easily keeping pace with her. “Is this yours?” he asked when they reached her SUV.

“Mine and the bank’s,” she answered. Not wanting Gage to sense her discomfort, she made an effort to relax.

“Four-wheel drive. That’ll come in handy around here.” He gave the car the standard once-over typical of men, then hitched his chin at the neighboring island of gas pumps. “I’m still driving a pickup.”

The long-bed crew cab he indicated was considerably newer and nicer than the one he’d driven in high school. And from what she could see, loaded to the hilt with lumber and various other building materials. He must have come into Pineville to purchase supplies for his family’s cattle ranch. There was some sort of emblem on the driver-side door that she couldn’t make out from this distance.

“It’s big,” she said and returned to filling her SUV with gas.

“I heard you were staying with your grandmother for a while. That’s nice of you. A broken hip is no picnic, and I’m sure she appreciates your help.”

“Yes.” Small-town gossip, thought Aubrey. Nothing stayed secret for long. Everybody from the local sheriff to the clerk at the feed store had probably been informed of her arrival.

“Look, Aubrey,” Gage said. “I know you probably feel a little…weird after what happened. Is there any chance we can get together and talk?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She squeezed the gas nozzle until her fingers turned white. “I mean, what’s to 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.

“He and I went to fire academy together.”

Aubrey groaned inwardly. Shame on her for walking right into his trap.

She remembered a very brief conversation they’d had at her grandfather’s funeral when Gage mentioned joining the Blue Ridge Volunteer Fire Department. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he’d stuck with it, but she refrained, not certain she wanted to learn everything about him yet.

“You still a nurse in the emergency room at Tucson General?” He moved his seat back to accommodate his six-foot-plus frame.

Aubrey rolled her eyes and shook her head. The man had a lot of nerve. “Not at the moment.”

“You quit your job?”

“I took a leave of absence.”

“Wow.” He stopped fiddling with the seat position and faced her. “I thought you loved nursing.”

“I do.” Aubrey heard her voice crack and swallowed before continuing. “Just not the E.R. lately.”

She thought of Jesse and Maureen—saw them as she had at their thirtieth wedding anniversary, a hundred family members and friends in attendance to join them in celebrating. Dear friends of the Stuarts, Aubrey had known “Uncle” Jesse and “Aunt” Maureen practically her entire life. She remembered being deeply touched at the way they gazed sweetly into each other’s faces. How wonderful it must be, she’d thought, to still be in love after so many years.

But then another, different image of Jesse’s and Maureen’s faces came to her. Broken and battered and covered in blood. Less than a week after the anniversary celebration, the couple had been brought into the E.R. while Aubrey was on duty, victims of an automobile accident. Upon glimpsing them, Aubrey had froze.

All of the E.R.’s staff vast skill and expertise proved in-adequate. They couldn’t save her parents’ friends. Within the hour, Uncle Jesse and Aunt Maureen were both dead.

Aubrey lost more than two patients and more than two family friends that sad and terrible day. She lost a part of herself. And though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she was terribly afraid she might never find it again.

“Hey, you okay?” Gage reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a gesture so familiar, Aubrey’s heart ached. He let his fingers linger. “You seemed lost for a second there.”

He couldn’t be any closer to the truth.

Something stirred inside her at the intimate contact, and it wasn’t revulsion. Her eyes involuntarily sought his. Emotions, some old, some new, filled her. Without intending to, she let out a soft, “Oh.”

A horn beeped, then another. The moment, or whatever it was, abruptly ended.

Gage grabbed his hat off the dash and swung around. “Traffic’s moving. I’d better get back to my truck.”

“I think that’s a wise idea.” Aubrey started the SUV with shaky fingers. She was never so glad to be surrounded by rude and impatient drivers.

“How about you and me pick this up later where we left off?” Without waiting for her answer, he stepped outside.

Another chorus of horns blared. Aubrey began to inch ahead, forcing Gage to slam the door shut. “How about we not?” she muttered under her breath.

In the next instant, he was on the run, his arm raised high in a parting wave.

Aubrey let out a frustrated grumble. Five minutes alone with him and look what happened. She let him touch her and stare at her…and…comfort her. Did she not possess so much as a smidgen of self-control?

GAGE PICKED UP his cell phone and punched in his friend’s number.

“KSLN newsroom.”

“Marty, it’s me.”

“Hey, buddy. What have you got?”

“Traffic’s moving,” Gage said. “Slow, but steady. I’ll let you know more when I reach the accident scene.”

“The tow truck just hit town. Should be in your vicinity within the next few minutes. My guess is only the northbound lane’s open.”

“Nothing coming at me, so I’d say you’re right.”

Gage kept Aubrey’s silver SUV in sight. He planned on tailing her the entire way to Blue Ridge. The road was notoriously rough in places and in her present distracted state of mind, she might not be paying close attention.

“Did you hear the latest on the Denver fire?” Marty asked.

“Got the call a half hour ago. Thirty-five percent contained as of this afternoon. Assuming the weather holds, it’ll be fifty percent by the morning.”

“Kelli’s already unpacked my bags. She was furious I might miss our six-month anniversary.”

“Newlyweds. Every month is a reason to celebrate.”

“That’s fine with me.” Marty chuckled. “Kelli really knows how to celebrate, if you catch my drift.”

Gage did. All too vividly, in light of his recent encounter with Aubrey.

“You disappointed about the fire?” Marty asked.

“Not at all.”

“Huh! I figured you’d be raring to go. It’s been almost two weeks since the last one.”

“Aubrey arrived today.”

“Ah. That’s right. The ex-wife is back in town. How’d it go?”

“Good and bad.” Gage gunned the accelerator and passed a van. Only three vehicles now separated him and Aubrey’s SUV. “Good because she let me get within ten feet of her without clamming up. Not that she talked a mile a minute.”

“And bad because…?”

“She looks great.” And feels great, too. Gage’s fingers still tingled from when he’d brushed her hair back from her face.

“Gage,” Marty said, his tone patient. “Need I remind you the lady ran out on you without so much as a ‘see ya around, it’s been swell’?”

“She didn’t run out on me. The divorce was a mutual decision.”

“Thanks to her father’s interference.”