Mail-Order Bride

by Debbie Macomber

  As Burt had explained, the seating was cramped.

  He talked little on the short trip, which suited Caroline just fine. She didn’t have a whole lot to say herself.

  The landing strip at Circle Hot Springs looked even more unreliable than the one at Gold River. Caroline felt her stomach pitch wildly when the Cessna’s wheels slammed against the frozen ground, but she managed to conceal her alarm.

  They were met by a group of four hunters who unloaded the plane, delivering the gear to a huge hunting lodge. When they’d finished, one of the men brought out a bottle of whiskey and passed it around. The largest hunter, a man named Sam, offered the bottle to Caroline.

  “No thanks,” she said, shaking her head. “I prefer to drink mine from a glass.” Burt had said that Circle Hot Springs wasn’t any place for a lady, but she’d assumed he’d been concerned about the climate.

  “Hey, guys, we’ve got a classy dame with us.” Sam laughed gruffly and handed her the bottle. “Take a drink,” he ordered.

  Fear sent chills racing up and down her spine as Caroline looked frantically at Burt. “I said no, thank you.”

  “Lay off, you guys,” Burt called. “She doesn’t have to drink if she doesn’t want to.”

  An hour later, Caroline was convinced she’d made a horrible mistake. The men sat around drinking and telling dirty jokes that were followed by smutty songs and laughter. Their conversation, or at least what she could hear of it, was filled with innuendo. The more she ignored them, the more they seemed to focus on her.

  While the men were engaged in a discussion about the next day’s plans, Caroline crept close to Burt’s side, doing everything possible to remove attention from herself.

  “You okay?” Burt muttered.

  “Fine,” she lied. “When do we leave for Fairbanks?”

  He gave her an odd look. “Not until tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow morning? That long?” She gulped. What had she gotten herself into now?

  “Hey, lady, you asked for this.”

  “Right.” She’d left the frying pan and landed directly in the hot coals of the fire. “I’ll be ready first thing in the morning.” Although it was the middle of the afternoon, the skies were already beginning to darken.

  The hunting lodge had a large living room with a mammoth fireplace. The proprietor/guide appeared and introduced himself, then brought out another bottle of whiskey to welcome his latest guests. Caroline refused a drink and inquired politely about renting a room for the night.

  “Sorry, honey, we’re full up.”

  His eyes were twinkling and Caroline didn’t believe him.

  “You can stay with me,” Sam offered.

  “No thanks.”

  “Polite little thing, ain’t you?” Sam slipped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed hard. The smell of alcohol on his breath nearly bowled her over. “The boys and me came here for some fun and we’re real glad you decided to join us.”

  “I’m just passing through on my way to Fairbanks,” she explained lamely. She cast a pleading glance at Burt, but he was talking to another of the men and didn’t notice her. She groaned inwardly when she saw the glass of amber liquid in his hand.

  “Like I said, we came into Circle Hot Springs for a little fun,” Sam told her, slurring his words. “You knew that when you insisted on flying here, I’ll bet.” Again he gave her shoulders a rough squeeze.

  Caroline felt as if her vocal cords had frozen with fear. As the evening progressed, things went from bad to worse. After the men had eaten, they grew louder and even more boisterous. Burt had started drinking, and from the looks he was giving her, Caroline wondered just how much protection he’d be if worse came to worst. Judging by the way he was staring at her, Caroline realized he wouldn’t be much help against the burly men.

  Sam polished off his glass of whiskey and rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. “I don’t know about the rest of you yahoos,” he shouted, “but I’m game for some entertainment.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Burt brought it for us. Ain’t that right, little lady?”

  Once again, Caroline’s eyes pleaded with Burt, but he ignored her silent petition. “I…I didn’t say anything like that, but…but I think you should know, I’m not much of a singer.”

  The men broke into loud guffaws.

  “I can dance a little,” she offered, hoping to delay any arguments and discover a means of escape. Her heart felt as though it were refusing to cooperate with her lungs. She’d never been so scared in her life.

  “Let her dance.”

  The whiskey bottle was passed from one member of the party to the next as Caroline stood and edged to the front door. If she could break free, she might be able to locate another cabin to spend the night. Someplace warm and safe.

  “I’ll…need some music.” She recognized her mistake when two of the men broke into a melody associated with strippers.

  “Dance,” Sam called, clapping his hands.

  “Sure.” Caroline was close to tears of anger and frustration. Swinging her hands at her sides, she did a shuffle she’d learned in tap dance class in the fifth grade.

  The men booed.

  She sent them a feeble smile and stopped. “I guess I’m not much of a dancer, either.”

  “Try harder,” someone shouted, and they all laughed again.

  The log door swung open and a cold north wind caused the roaring fire to flicker. A man entered, his head covered with a hood. He flipped it back and stared at Caroline.

  “Paul!” She’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life. She wanted to weep with relief.

  “What’s going on here?” he said gruffly.

  “We’re just havin’ a little fun,” Burt said, lurching to his feet. “Do you know the lady?”

  Paul looked directly at Caroline and slowly shook his head. “Nope. Never seen her before in my life.”

  Chapter 4

  Caroline stared with utter astonishment as Paul took a seat with the other men, removing his parka and setting it aside. Someone passed him a drink, which he quickly downed. Not once did he glance in her direction.

  “Well,” he said after a moment, “what’s stopping you? Dance.”

  “Dance?” Caroline repeated.

  “Dance!” all the men shouted simultaneously.

  “And no more little-girl stuff, either.”

  Caroline’s anger simmered just below the surface. Couldn’t Paul see that she was up to her neck in trouble? The least he could do was rescue her. All morning he’d kept saying he was her husband and nothing she could do would change that. Well, good grief, if she’d ever needed a husband it was now. Instead, he appeared to find her predicament humorous. Well, she’d show him!

  Heaving a deep sigh, she resumed her soft-shoe shuffle, swinging her arms at her sides. She really did need music, and if the men weren’t going to provide it, she’d make her own. Perhaps because of the snow outside, all she could think of was Christmas songs. “ ‘Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock…’ ” she bellowed out.

  The only one she seemed to amuse was Paul, but his laugh could be better described as a snicker. Although Caroline made a point of not looking at him, she could feel the heat of his anger. All right, so she’d lied. And she’d taken the coat. She did intend to pay him for it, plus what he’d spent on her airplane fare.

  The men were booing her efforts again.

  “I told you, none of that kid stuff,” Sam shouted, his voice even more slurred. “You’re supposed to entertain us.”

  As much as she hated to reveal her fright, Caroline stopped and she silently begged Paul for help. Again he ignored her.

  “Take your clothes off,” Sam called out. “That’s what we want.”

  “Paul?” she whispered, and her voice trembled. “Please.” When she saw him clench his fists, she knew she’d won.

  “All right, guys,” he said, agilely rising to his feet. “The game’s over. I�
��d like you to meet my wife.”

  “Your wife!” In a rush, Burt Manners jumped from his sitting position. “Hey, buddy, I swear I had no idea.”

  “Wait a minute!” Sam burst out. “You said you didn’t know her and—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Paul cut in.

  “She came to me begging to leave Gold River. I told her Circle Hot Springs was no place for a lady, but she insisted.”

  Paul’s mouth thinned. “I know.”

  “You need me to fly you back to Gold River?” Burt asked eagerly.

  “No thanks, I’ve got someone waiting.”

  “You do?” Caroline was so relieved she felt faint. Another minute of this horrible tension would have been unbearable. The men were looking at her as though she was some cheat who’d swindled them out of an evening’s fun and games. And from the way Paul kept avoiding eye contact, she wondered what he’d say once they were alone. She’d gone from the frying pan into the fire and then back to the frying pan.

  Burt stepped out of the hunting lodge with them to unload Caroline’s suitcase from his plane. With every step, he continued to apologize until Caroline wanted to scream. Paul knew she’d practically begged the other man to take her away from Gold River. He didn’t need to hear it over and over again.

  “Fact is,” Burt said, standing beside his Cessna, his expression uneasy, “I didn’t hear you were married. If I’d known she was your wife, I never would’ve taken her.”

  Paul offered no excuse for her behavior. He was so silent and so furious that Caroline thought he might explode at any minute. Without a word, he escorted her to the waiting plane and helped her inside, every movement that of a perfect gentleman. But she had no doubt whatsoever that he was enraged.

  Once aboard the plane, Caroline smiled faintly at the pilot and slipped into her seat. No sooner had she buckled her safety belt than the engines roared to life and the Cessna taxied away.

  Paul was quiet for the entire flight. By the time they circled Gold River, Caroline was weak with dread—and guilt. She’d lied to Paul, stolen from him, and embarrassed him in front of his friends. Maybe he’d be so glad to get rid of her that he’d give her the divorce. Maybe this whole fiasco could be annulled. Oh heavens, why wouldn’t he tell her what had happened last night? She rubbed her temples, trying to recall the events following her arrival. She remembered him kissing her and how good it felt, but beyond that her memory was a blur.

  When the plane approached the runway, Caroline closed her eyes. The sensation of the frozen tundra rising to meet the small aircraft made her dizzy. The Cessna jerked hard once, then again, and for a moment Caroline was sure they were going to crash. A fitting end to her day, she thought gloomily—death. She swallowed a cry of alarm and looked frantically at Paul, who was seated beside her. His face was void of expression, as though such a bumpy landing was nothing out of the ordinary. They eased to a stop, and Caroline sagged against the back of the seat, breathless with relief.

  Walter was standing with a team of huskies to meet them. His ageless eyes hardened when he caught a glimpse of Caroline, and his angry glare could have split a rock.

  “Could you see that Bill has a hot meal and place to spend the night?” Paul asked his friend, apparently referring to the pilot.

  “Sure thing.”

  Once inside the cabin, Caroline turned her back to the woodstove and waited. Paul walked past her, carrying her suitcase into the bedroom.

  Caroline removed her parka and hung it beside Paul’s. The cabin was warm and cozy, some kind of stew was simmering on top of the stove, and the enticing smell was enough to make Caroline feel limp. She hadn’t eaten all day.

  Still, Paul didn’t speak and she waited another minute before she broached a conversation.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” she said when she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Ready for what?”

  “For whatever you’re going to say or do to me.”

  “I’m not going to say or do anything.”

  “Nothing?” Caroline uttered in stunned disbelief.

  Paul crossed the tiny kitchen and took two bowls from the cupboard.

  “But I lied to you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I know.”

  “And I stole the coat.”

  He nodded.

  “And…” Her voice trembled. “I made a fool out of us both.”

  Paul lifted the lid of the cast-iron kettle, filled each bowl to the top with stew, and brought them to the table.

  Caroline gripped the back of the kitchen chair. “You must be furious with me.”

  “I am.”

  “Then don’t you think you should divorce me? I mean, it’s obvious I’m not the woman you want. If I were you, I’d be willing to admit I made a bad choice and go from there.” She eyed him hopefully.

  He sat down, unfolded his napkin, and laid it across his lap. “There will be no divorce.”

  “But I don’t want to be married! I—”

  “The deed is done.”

  “What deed?” she screamed. If she’d had a wedding night, a real wedding night, surely she’d remember it.

  “We’re legally married,” he said calmly, reaching for his spoon. “Now sit down and eat.”

  “No.” Stubbornly, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Fine. Then don’t eat.”

  Caroline glanced at the steaming bowl of stew. Her mouth began to water and she angrily pulled out the chair. “All right, I’ll eat,” she murmured, “but I’m doing it under protest.” She dipped her spoon into the thick mixture.

  “I can tell,” Paul said.

  When they’d finished, it was Paul who cleared the table and washed the dishes. Wordlessly, Caroline found a dish towel and dried them, replacing the bowls in the overhead cupboard. Her mind was spinning with possible topics of conversation, all of which led to one central issue: their marriage. She prayed she’d find a way of getting him to listen to reason.

  An hour after dinner, Paul turned off the lights in the living room and moved into the bedroom. Caroline could either follow him or be left standing alone in the dark. She didn’t even consider turning on the lights again.

  The instant her gaze fell on the bed, Caroline knew she could delay no longer. “Paul, listen to me—there’s been a terrible mistake.”

  “There was no mistake,” he countered, starting to unbutton his shirt.

  Briefly, Caroline recalled running her fingers down his chest. She felt the blood drain from her face and turned away in an effort not to look at him. If there was anything else to remember, she didn’t want to do it now. “The mistake wasn’t yours, I’ll admit that. But you must understand that I didn’t know anything about the wedding.”

  “We’ve already been through this and no amount of talk is going to change what happened. We’re married, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s how we’re going to stay.”

  “But I don’t want to be married,” she wailed.

  Paul heaved a disgusted sigh. “Would it make any difference if I was your beloved Larry?”

  “Yes,” she cried, then quickly changed her mind. “No, it wouldn’t. Oh hell, I don’t know.”

  “The subject is closed,” Paul said forcefully. “We won’t discuss it again.”

  “But we have to.”

  From behind her, Caroline heard Paul throw back the covers and climb into bed. Slowly, she turned, feeling more unhappy and depressed than she had at any other time in her life.

  “Surely you don’t believe I’m going to sleep with you?”

  “You’re my wife, Caroline.”

  “But…”

  “Why do you insist on arguing? We’re married. You’re my wife and I want you to sleep in my bed.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “Sleep on the floor. When you get cold enough you’ll come to bed.” With that, he rolled onto his side and flipped off the light, once again leaving Caroline in the dark. She remained where she w
as for a long moment, indecisive, exhausted, bewildered.

  “Paul?”

  “Hmm?”

  “If I…If I come to bed, will you promise not to touch me?”

  Silence. Finally he said, “After the stunt you pulled today, I doubt that I could.”

  Caroline supposed she should’ve been relieved, but she wasn’t. Slowly, she undressed and climbed under the blankets. She shivered once and curled up tightly. As weary as she was, she’d expected to fall directly into a deep sleep, but she didn’t. In fact, a half-hour later, she lay wide awake, surprisingly warm and cozy.

  “Paul?” she whispered.

  “What?”

  She bit her bottom lip to hold back the tears. “I’m sorry about today.”

  “I know.”

  “Under normal conditions, I would never have done anything so stupid.”

  “I know that, too.”

  “Do you know everything?” she snapped.

  “No.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Another five minutes passed. “Paul?”

  “What is it now?”

  “Good night.”

  “Good night, love.” She could hear the relief in his voice and her eyes drifted shut.

  The next thing Caroline knew, Paul was leaning over her, gently shaking her awake.

  “Caroline, it’s morning.”

  Her eyes flew open in alarm and she brushed the hair from her face. “What time is it?”

  “Five o’clock. You’ll need to get up and dressed. There’s coffee on the dresser for you.”

  Maybe he’d relented and had accepted the impossibility of their circumstances. She struggled into a sitting position, her eyes finding his. “Up and dressed? Why?” she asked, hoping he’d decided to send her back to Seattle.

  “You’re coming with me.”

  “Where?”

  “To the pump station.”

  Her spirits sagged. “But why? I don’t know anything about—”

  “I can’t trust you. So I don’t have any choice but to bring you with me.”

  “I’m not going to run away again. I promise.”