Cathy Thacker Gillen

My Secret Wife


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waiting list, Gabe’s brother Chase arrived. As she watched her former fiancé, now a happily married man, mount the steps to Gabe’s beach house, which was just a mile or so from Chase’s own, Maggie thought how odd it was to have no feeling at all for Chase, except maybe a lingering warmth—the kind you had for a guy who had once been your boyfriend, but who now was merely a casual acquaintance. Had she ever really loved Chase Deveraux, surely she would have felt more for him now. But she didn’t. Which only went to show, Maggie thought dispiritedly, that she really didn’t know anything about what the love between a man and a woman should be after all.

      “Hey, Mags,” Chase said with a smile the moment Maggie got off her cell phone. “I’ve got a proposition for you. I want to do a story on this kitchen fire and a before-and-after photo-spread of the renovation for Modern Man magazine. Interested?”

      “I wouldn’t mind the free advertising,” Maggie said. The magazine Chase published was one of the hottest publications for men. A lot of women read it, too.

      Chase nodded, pleased. “Great. I’ll send Daisy Templeton over on a daily basis to photograph the work in progress.”

      The pager attached to Gabe’s belt went off. “It’s the hospital. Excuse me for a minute.”

      Maggie and Chase stepped outside on the deck to give Gabe the privacy he needed while talking to the hospital. Chase looked at Maggie curiously. “So what’s going on between the two of you?” he asked, abruptly becoming more protective older brother to Gabe, than ex-fiancé to Maggie. “Are you dating now or what?”

      Maggie had the feeling a part of Chase would have been relieved if they had been—it would have been easier on his male ego had she and his younger brother not been able to keep their hands off each other. It would have explained once and for all why she’d left him at the altar to be with Gabe. Because everyone knew Maggie wasn’t the type of woman to string any man along.

      “Gabe and I are just friends, Chase,” Maggie responded quietly. And not very good ones at that, Maggie thought, given the continuing sexual tension between them. The fact their relationship was unrequited and destined to stay that way made a strictly platonic relationship between her and Gabe all but impossible.

      “That’s too bad.” Chase’s disappointment was evident. Maggie knew Chase had hoped his forgiveness would spur her and Gabe on to a more meaningful relationship. “I want Gabe to be with his dream woman,” Chase said seriously. “And I’ve thought for a while now that woman was you.”

      “Well, it’s not,” Maggie said briskly, recalling all too well how swiftly and remorselessly Gabe had dumped her. “But thanks for caring enough to want to see your brother happy,” she said sincerely, relieved that Chase was no longer angry with her for the mistakes she had made when she was engaged to him.

      Chase rested his hands on her shoulders. “I want to see you both happy, Mags. As happy as Bridgett and I are,” Chase said firmly.

      “I want that, too,” Maggie said. She just didn’t see how it would ever happen with her and Gabe, no matter what Chase and his new bride Bridgett hoped.

      Chase then headed off for the magazine office, and Maggie got her laptop computer out of her truck. By the time she had walked back into the living room, which, thanks to the quick response of the fire department as well as the judicial use of a fire extinguisher on the blaze in the kitchen had remained unscathed, Gabe was just getting off the phone.

      “Sorry about that. I had a patient admitted last night. We don’t know who she is. She’s eighty-something and obviously confused. I was hoping the police would have been able to connect her with a missing persons report, but so far, nothing.”

      “Is she going to be all right?”

      “I hope so. But we have to figure out what’s wrong with Jane Doe first, and that’s not easy to do when we don’t have a medical history on her, and she isn’t able to explain to us how she ended up in the historic district with a sprained ankle in the middle of the night, or even how long she was lying there on the sidewalk before the newspaper delivery person happened along and found her. But she’s such a lovely lady I can’t imagine she could go missing for very long. So I’m sure it’ll all be worked out in a matter of hours.”

      Maggie frowned as she mulled over the dilemma. “You could always get the TV stations involved,” she suggested.

      “We will, believe me, if we don’t get some answers soon.” Gabe turned his intent blue-gray gaze on her. “And speaking of medical situations—how are you?”

      MAGGIE HAD BEEN HOPING Gabe wouldn’t bring that up.

      It was bad enough she had called him for advice and broken down in his arms; his pity for her had led to the infamous kiss on the beach that Chase had seen—and a lot of family turmoil between Gabe and his brother Chase. True, that conflict had since been resolved, but she was still embarrassed about the way she had bared her soul to Gabe that day. It wasn’t like her to reveal her deepest hurts or darkest fears to anyone. She preferred giving off a self-possessed, independent aura. No way was she a vulnerable woman in need of a man to lean on. Steeling herself against the kindness in his eyes, Maggie swallowed, and said, “I saw the physician you recommended.”

      “And…?” Gabe tensed as he waited for her reply.

      “I have severe endometriosis.” Maggie turned her back to the three Callaway Kitchen Construction trucks pulling up in the drive. She folded her arms in front of her and faced Gabe with as much courage as she could muster. “If I want to bear a child, and I do, very much, it’s recommended that I get pregnant as soon as possible.”

      Gabe looked first stunned—then accepting over the news of her impending parenthood. “Who’s the lucky dad?” he asked casually, thrusting his hands in the pockets of his slacks, as truck doors opened and shut and heavy work boots clopped up the beach-house steps.

      Maggie hedged, aware the next part was even more embarrassing. “I don’t know yet,” she said, biting her lower lip. “I have to visit the sperm bank this afternoon and pick one out.”

      Gabe stared at her as if she had suddenly grown two heads. “You’re kidding, right?”

      Maggie pretended a great deal more insouciance than she felt. “It’s either that or the old-fashioned way,” she said with a confident tilt of her head. “And since time is of the essence and I’m not currently even dating anyone…” She shrugged her slender shoulders and let her words trail off.

      She could tell by the disapproving look on his face that Gabe was about to tell her what a mistake she was making. Fortunately, he had no chance to do so as they were joined by Maggie’s electrician, Enrico Chavez, his brother, master plumber Manuel Chavez, and her carpenter and cabinetmaker Luis Chavez. The three brothers were all in their fifties. They had worked for Maggie’s dad and mom for years, and now they worked for Maggie. Devout Catholics, family men, they were fiercely protective of her. They were also, after the sudden deaths of her parents the previous year, the only “family” Maggie had, and she treasured the way they looked out for her, just as she did her best to look out for the three Chavez brothers and their families.

      “Hi, guys,” Maggie said, as she physically aligned herself with Gabe to better make introductions and talk to her crew. “This is Gabe Deveraux. He’s a critical care doc over at Charleston Hospital, and it’s his kitchen we’re going to be working on here.” Glad to have something else to talk about, Maggie finished the introductions and then explained briefly what was going to need to be done, once the new design was settled on, and when.

      “What about the Hegameyer job?” Luis asked, concerned.

      Realizing she was standing almost too close to Gabe, Maggie moved slightly away from his tall, strong frame. “The Hegameyers have generously agreed to wait another four months.”

      “How’d you get them to agree to that?” Manuel asked, dark brow furrowing.

      “I promised to cut fifty percent off their labor costs. Not