Husband for a Year

When she finally spotted their rental van, she left the booth and ran to the entrance to meet them.

“You can relax,” Wes assured her as they walked back to her table. “The boys’ ranch where your ex-husband spent last night is his final destination.”

The waitress took orders for hot coffee.

Bewildered by the information, Stefanie asked, “How do you know that for certain?”

“I made a phone call, pretending to be a parent wanting information,” Stan explained. “According to the woman who answered, the combination ranch and accredited school for teenaged boys in trouble with the law is the brain child of a Mr. Wainwright, the owner and manager.”

What?

“To quote her words, ‘The structured environment of his working cattle ranch offers a viable alternative to the usual punitive reform school. The boys live, study and work on the ranch in family groups with trained counselors, teachers and surrogate parents. The result is a much higher rate of rehabilitated young men who will make positive contributions to society in the future.’”

Stefanie shook her head trying to assimilate everything Stan had just told her, but she couldn’t fathom it.

Gabe had turned his back on a political career, which could have taken him to the highest office in the land in order to live in this remote, savage wilderness surrounded by young criminals?

Throughout the endless drive across the country, she’d become convinced that Gabe’s passenger was his son, that he and the boy’s mother were going to end up here together.

Maybe that still held true. It was possible the woman he loved would be joining him later.

Stefanie felt her heart splinter.

Having learned this much, would it be unforgivable of her to show up at the ranch? While they’d been married, Gabe had had many months to tell her the truth, but she’d waited in vain for him to confide in her.

While she struggled with these questions, Wes placed a Montana map in front of her. “This is the way to the Larch Tree Boys’ Ranch, Ms. Dawson. I’ve highlighted the route in blue. Weather permitting, it’s a twenty-minute drive from here.”

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done.” Stefanie handed them both a bonus check.

“We were glad to be of help.” Stan smiled.

“Good luck to you.”

“To you, too.”

“Thanks. Let us know if we can ever be of help again.”

“You know I will.”

The P.I.s had done their part to perfection. She’d been given the proof that Gabe wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t lost to her. But she’d been so focused on catching up to him, she hadn’t thought beyond this moment.

After the two men left the café for Kalispell, Stefanie searched her conscience. No matter how she analyzed it, there was no right way to approach Gabe. In his eyes she would be an unwelcome intruder, a tangible reminder of the life he’d repudiated.

Worse, there was the reality of the woman who’d driven partway across the country with Gabe and the boy who could be his son, thus complicating an already precarious situation.

What caused Stefanie to agonize was not knowing if Gabe was in love—whether it be with the boy’s mother, or whether he was involved with another woman altogether.

There was no one who could help her get those answers.

Unless she abandoned her hope of ever seeing Gabe again, the only thing left to do was carry out her original plan. At this point she had nothing else to lose.

If her worst nightmare came true and Gabe ended up despising her, at least she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life torturing herself with what ifs.

Determined as she’d never been in her life, she went into the rest room to make certain no blond strands had escaped her wig. Then she refreshed her makeup. It had been carefully chosen to camouflage her fair coloring and play up her black hair. With brown contact lenses, gold hoop earrings, a black turtleneck sweater and designer jeans, her own mother wouldn’t recognize her.

That was the whole point.

Gabe had led a double life for months. Except for the P.I.s who’d been paid well for their silence, not to mention their help, only the people involved with his ranch knew where he was. Stefanie had no intention of giving his secret away. In fact she’d done everything in her power to make sure no one would suspect she was the former Mrs. Gabriel Wainwright.

After taking a deep breath, she went out front to pay for her lunch. It wasn’t until she started for her car that she realized a wind had sprung up. Snow had been forecast.

With the ranch only twenty minutes away, she estimated that if she drove there immediately, she could make it without problem. Otherwise she might have to wait another day to see Gabe, depending on the severity of the storm.

When she’d come this far, it didn’t bear thinking about to be so close and still have to put off a reunion with him. She’d lived through five days and nights with the fear that something would go wrong and she’d never be able to find him. Now that she was within a few miles of his ranch, she couldn’t get there fast enough.

By the time the image of the motel had disappeared from her rearview mirror, the rain had turned to snow which was pelting the windshield. She turned on the wipers. Over the past few hours there’d been a noticeable drop in temperature. Twice she’d had to slow down because of black ice.

In this lonely wilderness, she found it hard to believe it was early April. Even more difficult to understand was Gabe’s decision to lose himself out here.

Anyone acquainted with the Wainwright sons knew they were expert swimmers and sailors. Certainly Gabe was one with the sea. Besides water sports, he loved offshore fishing. The rougher the swells and battering of salt spray, the better.

Stefanie was a water baby herself. Throughout their brief marriage she’d shared many of those activities with him, but always in the company of others.

For those reasons, she couldn’t imagine what had drawn him to this landlocked backcountry with no ocean in sight. No yachts or sailboats. No people.

The more she surveyed these hostile surroundings, the more incredulous she grew that this was a permanent move on his part.

“Oh, Gabe—what are you really doing out here?” she cried in anguish. “Why?”

At first she thought it was only the tears blurring her eyes that hampered her vision. But after she’d traveled the required distance and still couldn’t find the gate to the ranch, she realized she’d been overtaken by the blizzard.

Without being able to see one inch in front of her, there was no other choice but to pull to the side of the road and wait until the worst of the storm had passed over.

The next thing she knew, the car tipped forward and came to a standstill in a ditch. Though it wasn’t terribly deep, she would have been thrown against the windshield if she hadn’t been wearing a seat belt.

Everything went quiet. No sound of the engine, no heater. In this whiteout she’d completely lost her bearings.

Once her nerves calmed down and she got herself under some semblance of control, she forced herself to think rationally. If the storm kept up, and it probably would for some time to come, she might be stranded here for hours. Maybe all night. No one would know she’d gone off the road.

On the other hand, if she got out of the car and tried to find Gabe on foot, she could be hit by another car, or come down with hypothermia. The only thing that made sense was to call 911 and hope she was in range for someone to answer. Unfortunately her purse had been thrown to the floor.

Due to the odd angle of the car, she had a struggle undoing the seat belt. Eventually she worked it free, then clung to the steering wheel with one hand while she reached for her handbag with the other. After some difficulty she fished out her cell phone and punched the digits.

“Sheriff’s office,” a robust male voice answered.

Thank heaven.

“H-hello? I’m—” She hesitated, realizing she’d almost said Stefanie Wainwright. “T-this is Teri Jones. I’ve run off the road into a ditch near the gate to the Larch Tree Boys’ Ranch. At least that’s where I was headed after I left Marion.”