Colby's Wife

Stunned at this side of Colby, a side she’d never known before, Greer was searching her mind for some snappy put-down when she heard her grandmother call to her.

‘Greer, darling, coffee’s ready. My goodness, is that Colby Daken? Hello there, you dear boy—what a delightful surprise! Come and join us, won’t you?’

Colby grinned as he waved to Jem, who was standing on her veranda, her hair twisted up in a topknot, her spare figure adorned in an oversize shirt and drainpipe jeans. ‘Hi, there, Mrs. W,’ he called back. ‘I’ll take a rain check if I may—catch you later.’

His smile transformed his face, changed it to the face Greer knew of old—eyes twinkling, teeth sparkling white, deep grooves bracketing his beautifully sculpted mouth. She felt something melt inside her, and it had nothing to do with the growing heat of the morning sun.

But as her grandmother went inside again, his smile faded, and his lips were compressed tightly as he looked at Greer. ‘You’re here with your grandmother?’

‘That’s right. No man in tow.’ Greer wrinkled her nose. ‘Disappointed?’

‘A little,’ he returned, and went on smoothly, ‘The chase is always more challenging when there’s competition. A woman always seems more interesting when someone else wants her, too. And I’m sure you feel the same way about men. After all, wasn’t that the appeal Brad Pierson held for you—he belonged to someone else?’

‘I knew there was a reason I didn’t want to come to the cottage this weekend.’ Greer found her words coming out with exactly the right edge of weary boredom she wanted to express. ‘There was always the chance you might be here.’

He ignored her jibe. ‘You’re here only for the weekend? You’re going back to town tomorrow?’

‘That’s right,’ Greer said coolly. ‘I’m here only because Jem asked me to come with her.’

‘Is she going to sell the cottage?’

‘That’s going to be up to me.’

Colby raised his eyebrows.

‘My grandmother doesn’t like spending time here on her own any more,’ Greer explained stiffly. ‘At least, that’s what she told me. I think there’s more to it.’

‘Such as?’

Greer shrugged. ‘Gran sold her Buick in February, around the time her driving licence was due for renewal, and I suspect the Motor Vehicles Branch may have called her in for a test that she failed...her eyesight’s not as good as it once was...and she’s too proud to admit it. At any rate, she no longer has transportation to get here, so she’s told me the property is mine, if I want it. And if I don’t—’

‘Then she’s going to unload it.’ Colby’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Greer. ‘So...what are you going to do?’

I thought I knew...but now that you’re here, Lord knows what my decision’s going to be! ‘I haven’t made up my mind yet. I told Jem I’d let her know today. If I don’t take her up on her offer, we’ll get the place ready for sale. Now—’ Greer turned to walk away ‘—if you’ll excuse me—’

‘Wait.’ He caught her arm.

‘What?’ She was so close she could smell the musk of his hair, the dizzying scent of his skin ... so close that if she wanted to, she could have run her fingertips over the hard sculpted angle of his jaw. And she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.

‘I’ll bring Jamie over, after breakfast, to meet his great-grandmother. And because you’re here, I’ll have to introduce him to you, too—’

‘Well, sorry about that,’ Greer snapped, snatching her arm free, ‘but yes, I think that would be a good idea. He was taken aback when he saw me...I realize now it was probably because of the family resemblance. I must remind him of...his mother.’

Their eyes locked, and in Colby’s she saw something she hadn’t noticed before. A look of deep and private pain.

Greer felt a sudden stab of remorse, remorse that twisted her heart, and she had to ram her hands deep into her pockets to keep from reaching out to comfort him. Oh, how she ached for a return of the days when she could have done just that...

But those days were gone. Long gone.

And they would never return.

‘Colby, I’m sorry,’ she said, huskily. ‘It must still hurt, I know, to talk about Eleanor. You must miss her so.’

Fighting back a welling of tears, she turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see her distress, and set off up the beach toward the cottage.

This time, he didn’t try to stop her.

‘So...Colby is here.’

‘Yes.’ Greer tried to keep a lid on her roiling emotions as she met her grandmother’s shrewd azure gaze unflinchingly across the pine kitchen table. ‘He’s here.’

‘Alone?’

‘Jamie is with him.’

‘Mmm. And missing his mother dreadfully, I should imagine.’

‘Seems that way.’ Greer moved restlessly on her chair. ‘His father said he’s been having a rough time. He hopes, I think, that a summer at the lake will help Jamie come to terms with his loss.’

‘And Colby? How does he seem?’

‘Hard.’

Her grandmother raised her eyebrows.

Greer frowned, feeling unaccountably irritable and impatient. ‘He’s—’

She broke off, searching for a word that would describe Colby’s attitude toward her, without giving too much away, but before she could find one, Jem said, in a questioning tone, ‘Grieving?’

‘When he came back here after his father died, he was grieving.’ Greer fidgeted with the beaded edge of her place mat. ‘But he was still...nice.’ Oh, Lord, had he ever been nice! He had...during those first three days at the lake, before the Bradley Pierson affair...treated her like a cherished and dearly missed friend.

‘Colby sounded pleasant enough when he spoke to me.’

‘Oh, yes, the man can be pleasant when—’

‘Colby.’

Greer blinked. ‘Sorry?’

‘Colby.’ Jem lifted the coffeepot from its spot on the table and refilled her mug. She added a spoonful of sugar, and stirred it in, before saying, in a gentle voice, ‘His name is Colby, dear. It won’t hurt you to say it.’

‘I don’t want to say it!’ The outburst was childish, and Greer was ashamed of it...and of herself. She was twenty-five, no longer a child of seventeen, hurting and lonely. She pushed back her chair and got to her feet. ‘Jem, about the cottage. I thought this morning that I’d really like for us to keep it in the family...but now that...he...is here, I’m going to need some more time.’

‘Time for what?’

‘Time to find out what his plans are. If he intends to be here every summer, it would be an impossible situation. I could never relax, with him around...treating me like some sort of a...leper.’ Her voice cracked, and she crossed to the window. Gripping the edge of the countertop, she looked out...

A mistake. Straight ahead, slung between two ancient birch trees, was the hammock where she and Colby had cavorted together many times in happy summers gone by. Oh, Lord...