Colby's Wife. Grace Green
‘Greer, I couldn’t believe it when Jem said you were here. I thought you’d given up on cottage living!’
Greer made a helpless gesture with one hand. ‘Is it really you? You look great—so slim and—’
She broke off, grimacing. But even as she started to murmur an embarrassed apology, Lisa laughed delightedly.
‘Don’t apologise, honey—it took two long years to lose those extra fifty pounds, and believe me, there’s nothing I like more than people complimenting me on my changed appearance. But you—’ she embraced Greer, and then stood back to examine her ‘—you look pretty wonderful yourself.’
Greer chuckled. ‘I hardly think so, Mrs. Pierson—I must look a sight, all cobwebs, and dust, and—’
‘Oh, drop the Mrs. Pierson, please!’ Lisa rolled her eyes. ‘You’re no longer a little girl...besides, you make me feel ancient. Call me Lisa. Look, I’ve got to dash—the kids and I just got here and I’ve left them unloading the van—but I’ll see you later. Jem has told me just enough about your successful career to whet my appetite—if I have one weakness, it’s gorgeous silk lingerie! But we’ll have loads of time to talk about that. I’ve brought enough steaks to feed an army and you and Jem are coming over for a barbecue. Around seven. Give us time to settle in. Okay?’
Greer knew, from Jem’s reports over the past several summers, that Lisa and her husband were still married, and still, apparently, happy together, but it sounded as if, on this trip at least, Lisa and the children were here on their own. Perhaps Brad was too busy at work to get away. Greer hoped that was the case; it was enough that she’d had to face Colby, without having to be in the company of the man she was supposed to have seduced into an illicit affair.
But even if Brad had been there, how could she have gotten out of the invitation? What possible excuse could she have come up with that would hold water? Besides, as far as she was aware, Lisa knew nothing of the incident that long-ago summer; she, Greer, would make sure it remained a secret. ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she said. ‘Thanks a lot.’
‘Great. See you around seven.’
Greer stood watching Lisa bounce away along the path, her short brown hair as sleek as a seal’s, her trim behind attractively set off by her striped shorts and the shapely curve of her legs enhanced by the heels of her espadrilles.
Brad Pierson, Greer reflected wearily, was one very lucky man. Why would he ever have been foolish enough to risk losing a wife like Lisa?
She went back into the shed, but somehow, she had lost the zest for cleaning. It was too hot, of course...but Lisa’s visit had opened the doors to the past and, despite Greer’s earlier decision not to haul out her unhappy memories till later in the summer because she still felt too vulnerable to confront them, those memories—driven by forces over which she had no control—came rushing in...
Memories of the night her own happiness ended.
The night of the betrayal.
That summer, in late August, Mackenzie Daken had died, and Colby and Eleanor had come back to Canada for the funeral.
They’d been living in Australia since their wedding almost three years before, having chosen to settle there because Eleanor had wanted to be close to her widowed mother in Melbourne. Colby had started an Australian branch of Daken Construction and was doing extremely well.
Jem had attended the memorial service, but Greer—in the throes of final exams—had been unable to accompany her. Right after the exams were over, she had driven up to the lake with Jem, and didn’t come into contact with Colby till he and Eleanor turned up a week later; the couple planned to spend a few days there, readying the Daken cottage for sale.
For Greer, seeing Colby again was a taste of heaven, but she made sure she showed no sign to anyone that she was in love with him. Brad Pierson had come to the cottage for a few days, too; Lisa was carrying their third child, and it wasn’t due till October, but she’d been threatening to miscarry, so her doctor had hospitalized her. Brad’s mother was taking care of his two daughters, Brittany and Sarah, and Brad—stressed out with worry over Lisa, and with problems at work to boot—had taken some time off to relax.
That Colby was as besotted as ever with Eleanor was plain; and because it made Greer’s heart ache to watch them together, she’d spent a lot of time with Brad, laughing and joking with him much more than she normally would have, to make sure nobody suspected her real feelings.
On the third day after Colby and Eleanor arrived at the lake, Colby had gone to Toronto to meet with his father’s lawyers regarding the sale of Mac’s house in the city. Since the meeting was scheduled for evening, Colby planned to stay over and drive back to the cottage in the morning.
That night, Jem went to bed around eleven, leaving Greer and Eleanor sitting on the veranda at the Daken cottage, the moon lighting up the beach in a way that made it look like a silver and purple fairyland. Eleanor seemed restless, and disinclined to chat. In the end, Greer left her, and went off to bed.
But once there she couldn’t sleep for the heat. She tossed and turned for almost an hour, naked, on top of the covers, but sleep still eluded her, so in the end she got up. After slipping on a bikini, she tiptoed out of her room, hoping a stroll in the night air might cool her off.
She walked along the beach just below the cottages. All three were in darkness...and the occupants, she guessed, all asleep—Eleanor in the Daken cottage, Jem in the Westbury cottage and Brad in his.
But after she’d gone a little way past the Pierson place, she heard an unfamiliar sound ahead. It seemed to come from the edge of the forest about ten feet away, from the black-shadowed grassy area under a large maple tree. It sounded, Greer decided with a frown, like someone crying.
She paused, listening intently. It sounded like Eleanor. But whatever could be wrong? Trying to decide what to do, Greer crept forward hesitantly, stopping with a shiver after she’d gone a few steps into the dark shadowy area under the tree.
For long minutes, she stood there, but heard nothing now but the whisper of the breeze in the leafy branches above her head. She had just convinced herself she’d been mistaken, when she heard the sobbing again...very close by. But...no, not sobbing. Moaning. Moaning that, as she stood frozen, bewilderedly peering down into the dark shadows, became more anguished, pained...a panting, desperate—
She thought she saw a shimmer of blond hair not a yard away. She was about to whisper ‘Eleanor? Is that you?’ when she heard it. Heard the sound that jolted her heart against her lungs so she could scarcely breathe. A groan...
A man’s groan.
And a voice. A man’s voice. Brad’s voice, rasping out words...of passion.
Then Eleanor’s whisper—husky, and brittle with excitement. ‘Do you like this?’ There was a rustle of sound. ‘Oh, I know you’re going to like this...’
Another groan. Again a man’s groan, thick, deep-throated.
And then...an escalating series of inarticulate pleas, Eleanor’s whimpered ‘Don’t stop, oh, don’t stop now...’ and then a crescendo of—
Hands pressed hard against her ears in a desperate attempt to block out the horrible, the unthinkable, Greer stumbled behind the maple tree. With a stifled cry, she sank to the ground, and squeezing her eyes shut, rocked back and forth, back and forth—
‘What the hell is going on in there?’
Colby’s voice shattered the air. Harsh, challenging, it ripped through Greer like the jagged blade of a chain saw. For a terrifying moment, she thought he was addressing her. Aghast, she peeked around the tree trunk...but when she saw where he was standing on the beach, his white shirt fluorescent in the moonlight, she knew he couldn’t possibly have seen her. No, he was addressing the two people who had been making love in the shadows, so close to her she could now hear their ragged breathing. He must have come walking along the beach,