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His Brother's Wife

By Charlotte S. Snead

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Angelique
She took his breath away. She was small of stature. Her long, slender fingers rested on an open medical chart, but she looked out the window. Her head leaned to one side as if she paid close attention to someone or something he didn’t see. His brother called her a goddess, but surely she was flawed. Jonathan stared at the profiled blonde who looked out the window. The sun spilled over her perfect skin. Its golden beams caressed her soft locks. She looked serene. Sad, but peaceful. He willed his heart to harden. He would fight his brother’s bride. She would not get his generous inheritance. She was a gold digger, but he wavered when he looked at her this way.
“Angelique,” he whispered softly.
Angie jerked her head upright. “No one calls me that, except David.” She stared at the familiar stranger. “You look like him, and you sound like him, but it’s impossible. My husband is safe in arms of his Master. I identified his body. We buried him in Arlington.”
She gasped. “You aren’t David—he never dressed in designer suits.”
“This was a bad idea. I apologize,” David’s voice replied as he moved toward her. “We haven’t met, but surely David told you he had a twin? I’m Jonathan Carter.” He extended his hand and touched her arm gently as she stood, clutching her desk. She leaned forward as if in pain. Her paleness alarmed him. “You aren’t going to faint, are you? Perhaps you should sit. Can I get you a glass of water?” He moved toward a sideboard, reaching for a pitcher and one of several glasses on a tray.
“Jonathan? Of course, I knew he had a twin, but I didn’t realize how identical you were. You startled me. Forgive me.” Angie quickly blotted her tears. “You didn’t come to the services. David loved you so much. We prayed for you daily.”
Jonathan shifted awkwardly. “Yes, well, thank you. I was out of the country. I’m not given much to religious observances.”
“I understand, but the service was beautiful. These events bring closure. I know from my work.”
“As a nurse here at Walter Reed? David told me you’re a regular pillar of strength.”
She didn’t look strong. She appeared vulnerable, but not weak. Wounded yet resilient. Different. Jonathan couldn’t put her serene countenance into words.
“I try to share with others the comfort I’ve received,” Angie said.
“I flew into D.C. this afternoon to discuss David’s will. I’m overnight from New York.”
“I know you work on Wall Street. We hoped you’d get down for the wedding. The bullet train is so fast these days.”
“It was rather sudden, unexpected, and I had a business trip planned. The meetings were timely. I sent a gift.”
“Yes,” she said, smiling gently. “The silver tea service. It’s lovely. I sent a card.”
“You did, thank you.”
“It was very generous.” Angie said, giving him a tentative glance. “I didn’t have anywhere to put it in our apartment, but we kept it in the wrappings for when we had a place. We planned to buy a home.” Tears filled her eyes. She quickly looked down and blinked.
She’s good, Jonathan thought, steeling himself.
“I’m sure we can arrange it. David was most generous, but the will must be contested.”
Angie gave him a curious look. “The Army provided his funeral. I have his military life insurance and widow’s benefits. David told me his parents were killed in a plane crash and you were . . . well-off, not needy in any way.” She frowned as puzzlement crossed her lovely features.
“We need to talk,” Jonathan said. “Aren’t you about to the end your day? It’s after six. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
She shrugged. “I always have stacks, and it’s easier than going home. I’d rather keep busy than . . . . Her voice trailed. “It’s empty without him. It’s hard to understand. We weren’t married long, but he filled my life.” Her long fingers wiped her eyes. Tears hovered on her long dark lashes.
Jonathan shifted. “May I take you to dinner?”
“Thank you, but I’m not dressed appropriately for dinner with you. Scrubs don’t match your fine suit.” She gave him a quavering, tentative smile. “But thanks for asking. Won’t you be seated?”
Jonathan frowned impatiently. “We need to discuss some important matters. I’m not staying on your turf. We’ll stop by your apartment, and you can change.”
Angie’s eyes flashed a warning. “I don’t have anything to discuss with you. Except memories of your brother, whom you never visited during his rehabilitation, and I’m not in a ‘turf’ battle with anyone. Thank you for the kind dinner invitation, but no.”
As a skilled negotiator, Jonathan settled billion dollar deals, but he was botching this badly. He tried again. “Angelique—”
“Don’t call me that! David is the only one who ever called me that. You may share his looks, sound like him . . . .” Her voice quavered, but he watched her gather inner strength from somewhere, and she added, “But you aren’t David. You don’t have his gentleness or his kindness.”
Rebuffed, Jonathan shrugged. “What should I call you? David called you by your name.”
“I apologize. I didn’t realize. My friends call me ‘Angie.’ You’re my husband’s brother. Of course I want to be your friend. It’s kind of you to stop by. You’re a terribly busy man. Please, forgive me.” She rose and extended her hand.
Jonathan stared. She was . . . was she? A tiny bulge protruded from her belly. She’s pregnant. This makes it difficult. She wasted no time on that one, he thought bitterly.
“Angie, okay. If I say please, would you consider dinner with me? We’ll go by your place and you can change, and then my hotel, and I’ll gladly change these clothes for something more comfortable. You choose the place.”
“My turf, Jonathan?” She grinned, and he was disarmed. She stood and slipped on a uniform jacket.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked.
“Let me think about it while we drive. Do you have a car or did you take a taxi?”
“Taxi,” he said.
“Follow me to my car, and we’ll stop at the apartment.”
Jonathan followed her to the elevator. Doctors, nurses, aides, cooks, and janitors exchanged greetings with her as they wound through the corridors of the vast hospital complex. She stood in front of an elevator and punched employee parking. He shifted nervously. She was confident and knew her way around this place. He was definitely on her turf. He’d had to ask three times to find her office. She was held in high regard here. His perception was shifting.
“You’re an Army nurse?” he asked as they got off the elevator.
She acknowledged him without breaking stride.
“I don’t know the thingies—the rank stuff. You’re a . . . ?” Jonathan followed her into the elevator.
“A major, Mr. Carter."

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