Her Best Friend's Husband. Justine Davis

guessed,” Laura said with a flashing smile that lit up her dark eyes. “She said you were the personification of tall, dark and handsome.”

      Gabe blinked as Cara laughed. “Isn’t he just?” she said to the woman.

      Gabe was rarely at a complete loss for words, but he was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate the compliments, but he was never sure how to deal with such open admiration. Was he supposed to say thank you, or what?

      Fortunately, Cara saved him from the awkward moment. “I’m Cara Thorpe,” she said to the woman. With a glance at Gabe, she added, “Hope…was my best friend.”

      He noted the change of tense, and agreed with her; this woman obviously had no idea anything unusual had happened. Cara quickly explained about the much-delayed postcard.

      “Oh, you’re the one she wrote to, then?” Laura said after marveling at the belated delivery. “I wondered who on earth she’d been sending a postcard of this little burg to, and she said she hadn’t been able to reach you by phone.”

      “You seem to remember pretty well, for something so long ago,” Gabe said, careful to keep his tone merely curious.

      “I do,” Laura said. “I’m good with that kind of thing, and besides, I remember because it was the last time I saw her, and I always wondered why she never came back.”

      “So you saw her that day?” Cara asked. “The day she mailed that card to me?”

      Laura nodded, and gestured across the street to the small coffee shop they’d noticed when they arrived. “I used to work over there, until my older son was born. Hope would come in when she was in town, for a milkshake. She loved them, and they make them the old way, with a big blender, not out of a machine.”

      “Strawberry,” Gabe said softly.

      “Yes,” Laura said with a smile. “Anyway, she came in for one, and was writing on a postcard. When she finished, we chatted a little, like always.”