Mail-Order Bride

by Debbie Macomber

—

  A week passed, and each morning a sleepy Caroline traipsed behind Paul to the pumping station, and each night she followed him home. No amount of pleading could get him to change his mind. He wanted her where he could see her every minute of every day. But, despite herself, she took comfort from his presence—even if she’d never admit as much.

  The mail was delivered twice a week and a letter was sitting on the table addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Paul Trevor when they arrived back from the station during Caroline’s second week in Gold River.

  “A letter!” Caroline cried, as excited as a child on Christmas morning. Contact with the outside world. A tie with the past. She hurriedly read the return address. “It’s from my aunts.”

  Paul smiled. “The two schemers?”

  Eagerly, Caroline tore open the envelope. “The very ones.” She hadn’t forgiven them for their underhanded method of getting her to Alaska, but she missed them dreadfully.

  “What do they have to say?” Paul coaxed.

  “They’re asking how I like my surprise. In case you don’t know, that’s you.”

  “And?” he prodded with a soft chuckle.

  “And what?”

  “How do you like me?”

  It was Caroline’s turn to laugh. “I find you…surprising.”

  “Typical.”

  “Aunt Mabel, she’s the romantic one, says she feels that we’re going to be happy and have…oh my goodness.”

  “What?”

  Color seeped up from Caroline’s neck and flushed her cheeks. “She predicts seven children, which is how many my great-great-grandmother had as a mail-order bride.”

  “I’m willing,” Paul informed her with a grin.

  “Be quiet, I’m reading. And Aunt Ethel…” She hesitated, her eyes scanning the rest of the page. “It was nothing.” With her heart pounding frantically, and hoping to appear nonchalant, she refolded the letter and placed it back inside the envelope.

  Paul joined her at the kitchen table. “What did she say?”

  Caroline dropped her gaze. “It wasn’t important.”

  “Shall I read the letter myself?”

  “No…” she said and hid it behind her back. He could have insisted she hand it over, but he didn’t, although his cutting gaze reminded her that the letter had been addressed to both of them and he had every right to read it. “She told me that Larry Atkins dropped by when…when he couldn’t get hold of me. Aunt Ethel said she took great delight in telling him I’m a married woman now.”

  “I see,” Paul said thoughtfully.

  “I’m sure you don’t.” Caroline braced her hands against the kitchen counter as she fought a bout of self-pity. Her relationship with Larry had been over weeks before she’d come to Alaska. It shouldn’t hurt this much now, but it did. Her heart yearned to know why he’d contacted her and how he’d reacted to the news that she was married to Paul. She wanted to inform Larry that it wasn’t a real marriage—not the way theirs would have been.

  Paul placed his hands on her shoulders. “Caroline, here.” He turned her into his arms and held her quietly. It wasn’t the embrace of a lover, but that of a caring, loyal friend.

  She laid her face against his chest and drew in a wobbly breath. His hand was in her hair, stroking the back of her head in a soothing, comforting motion.

  “Do you still love him?” he asked after a moment.

  Caroline had to analyze her feelings. She’d been crazy in love with Larry for months. She missed him, thought about him often, wished him the best. But did she love him?

  As she pondered his question, Paul decided that holding Caroline was the closest thing to heaven he’d ever experienced. He’d barely touched her in a week, wanting to give her time to know him. Their relationship was in an awkward stage; he wasn’t convinced he could trust her yet. She’d outright told him that the first time he left her alone, she’d run away. Winter was coming on, and for her own safety he couldn’t leave her until he was sure she wouldn’t try to escape. He ached to hold her and kiss her until he felt he’d go mad. His successful restraint should make him a candidate for sainthood, he thought wryly. He regretted that he hadn’t made love to her on their wedding night, and yet he’d never coerce Caroline or any woman, never force himself on her.

  From her ramblings that night, Paul knew about Larry. The situation was less than ideal, and he’d played the role of patient husband, difficult though that was. She’d been with him nine days, and yet it had aged him a hundred lifetimes to be with her—at meals, at the station, especially in bed—knowing her mind was on another man. A man who’d rejected her, for that matter.

  “Caroline,” he pressed, needing to know. “Do you still love him?”

  “I…yes,” she answered truthfully, her voice strained and low. This was difficult. Paul was her husband, in fact if not in deed, and she couldn’t deny either her attraction to him or his kindness to her. She had no desire to be cruel to him. “You don’t stop loving people because they’ve hurt you,” she told him softly, relishing the comfort of his arms. “I’m trying not to love him…Does that help?”

  Tenderly, Paul kissed the side of her face. “It makes it easier to accept. I appreciate what it cost you to be honest.”

  A polite knock at the door drew them reluctantly apart. A very pregnant young woman walked in. Her smile was almost bashful, as though she felt she’d intruded on their lovemaking. “Did you need me, Paul?”

  “Yes.” Paul slipped his arm around Caroline’s waist. “Caroline, this is Tanana Eagleclaw. Tanana, my wife, Caroline.”

  “How do you do, Mrs. Trevor?” the girl said formally.

  “Fine, thank you, Tanana. And please call me Caroline. When is your baby due?” From the way she looked, it could’ve been any day.

  “Six weeks.” Again the young woman smiled shyly, obviously pleased about the pregnancy.

  Caroline guessed she was in her early twenties. “You’re a very good cook.”

  “Thank you.”

  Paul said something to her in her native tongue and Tanana nodded eagerly, her gaze moving briefly to Caroline. She left soon afterward.

  “What was that all about?” Caroline asked.

  “You said you wanted to meet Tanana, so I had her come over.”

  “But that wasn’t the only reason. What did you say to her?”

  “When?”

  “Just now.” Caroline gave him a bewildered look until she realized he was purposely playing dumb. “Never mind. You obviously don’t want me to know, so forget it.” She did understand one thing; Tanana’s feelings would be hurt if Caroline were to take over the cooking. Perhaps when her baby was born, Caroline could assume the task without causing any loss of pride. If she was still here, of course…

  That night, sitting in front of the fireplace, Caroline wrote her aunts a long reply. She told them that in the beginning she was furious with what they’d done, but gradually she’d changed her mind. Paul was a good man, a decent man, she wrote, and in that regard, she told the truth. But she couldn’t tell them that she hoped and prayed that, given time, Paul would let her return to Seattle. That kind of information would only upset them, and there was no need to disillusion those two romantics. Nor did she say that if she was going to be a bride, she wanted the opportunity to choose her own husband. When Paul sent her back, and Caroline believed he would, there’d be time enough to explain everything. For now, she’d play their game and let them think they’d outsmarted her and that she was a happy, blushing bride. It could do no harm.

  —

  That night, Caroline fell into bed, exhausted. Paul joined her a little later, and as she did every night, she pretended to be asleep when he slipped in beside her.

  “ ’Night, love,” he whispered.

  She didn’t respond and a few minutes later drifted into a natural, contented sleep.

  A noise woke her. She stirred—discovering that she’d been sleeping with her head on Paul’s chest. His arm secured her to him.r />
  “Is it morning yet?” she murmured, closing her eyes again, reluctant to leave the warmth pressing against her.

  “In a few minutes.”

  Paul rose before her every morning to stoke the fire and put on the coffee. Caroline had no idea whether she touched him in her sleep and feared that she’d wake in his arms one morning and embarrass them both.

  “Do I do this often?” she asked, a little flustered.

  “Not nearly enough,” he returned. His hand ran down the length of her spine, stopping at the small of her back. He paused and inhaled sharply.

  Caroline realized it was that soft rumble from his throat that had awakened her. Still, she didn’t move. He felt incredibly good—warm, strong…male.

  Five minutes passed, then ten. Caroline knew she had to pull herself away; each minute was more pleasant than the one before.

  “I’ll make the coffee this morning,” she murmured, easing away from him.

  Paul stopped her. “There’s no rush. Go back to sleep if you’d like.”

  “To sleep?” She lifted her head enough to search his face. “Aren’t you going to the station?”

  “I’ll be there, but you won’t.”

  Caroline was sure she’d misunderstood him.

  “I asked Tanana to spend the day with you,” he explained. “She’s going to introduce you to the other women in the village.”

  For a moment, Caroline was too stunned to grasp what he was saying. “Paul, do you mean it? I don’t have to go to the station?” Without thought, she wrapped her arms around his neck and covered his cheeks and forehead with a series of tiny, eager kisses.

  Paul’s hands found her head and guided her mouth to his for a kiss that was long and hard. Leisurely, her lips moved against his. Without her being certain how it happened, Paul reversed their positions with such ease that she lay on her back, staring up at him. Slowly, as though he couldn’t resist her a second longer, he lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that stirred her, heart and soul. Caroline couldn’t possibly have denied herself that kiss. Her hands sought his face, luxuriating in the feel of his beard.

  Paul broke off the kiss and, with a sigh that seemed to come from deep inside, buried his face in the hollow of her throat.

  Caroline entwined her arms around his neck and released her own sigh of contentment. She was shocked at how right it felt to have Paul hold and kiss her. Her heart raged to a primitive beat and her body throbbed with a simmering passion. She didn’t want to feel these things. When she left him, she didn’t want to be weighed down with regrets.

  He raised his head then, and compelled her gaze to meet his own, but she turned her head. “You’re going to be late.”

  He nodded.

  No time clock waited for him, and they both knew it. He eased away from her and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment to regain his strength. Caroline made him weak in ways he didn’t understand. She wanted him; he could almost taste her eagerness. And yet she had to say yes to him with complete certainty. With commitment as well as desire.

  Exasperated, he plowed his fingers through his hair. He’d be patient a little longer, but he wasn’t going to be able to withstand many more of her kisses. She fascinated him. She’d captured his heart and held it in the palm of her hand with as much concern as she would an unwanted sweet.

  —

  Although it was midmorning, Caroline was barely up and dressed when Tanana arrived. Again the young woman knocked politely at the door before stepping inside.

  “Morning, Mrs. Trevor,” she said shyly. “Caroline…”

  “Morning, Tanana. I was just fixing myself some breakfast. Would you like some?”

  She shook her head. “You come now, please?”

  “Now?”

  Tanana nodded.

  “There isn’t time for breakfast?”

  “No time.”

  Muttering disparaging words under her breath, Caroline removed the skillet from the stove and put the eggs back in the refrigerator while Tanana grabbed Caroline’s boots and parka.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The meeting hall.”

  “The other women are already there?”

  “Yes. Many of them.”

  Caroline had no idea what they were waiting for, but she was so pleased to be able to talk to another human being that she wouldn’t have cared if they were only going to sit around and drink weak coffee.

  As Tanana had promised, there were seven or eight women gathered inside the large hall that served as the heart of the small community. Smiling faces greeted her when they walked in and Tanana led an astonished Caroline to an empty chair that stood in the center of the room—obviously the seat of honor.

  She soon recognized that the women were giving a party in her honor, something like a bridal shower. One by one, each woman stepped forward and offered her a gift. Not all the women spoke English, but Tanana acted as their interpreter. The gifts were mostly homemade, displaying such talent and skill that Caroline’s breath caught in her throat at their beauty. She received a stunning hand-knit sweater, slippers made from sealskin, several pieces of intricate scrimshaw with scenes that depicted Indian life in the frozen North, as well as smoked salmon and venison. Caroline watched in wide-eyed wonder as they approached her. When it came to material things, they had so little and she had so much, yet they were lovingly sharing a precious part of their lives. Tears gathered in her eyes and she swallowed down a thickness forming in her throat, not wanting to embarrass these friendly, generous women.

  When they’d finished, Caroline stood and went to each one to personally thank her. Later, after they’d served lunch, the women gathered their yarn and started to knit.

  “What are they making?” Caroline asked Tanana.

  “Sweaters for the tourists.”

  “Gold River gets that many tourists?”

  “Some, but they’re mostly for the stores in Fairbanks, Juneau, and Anchorage.”

  “Oh.”

  “All the women of the village work on the sweaters in wintertime,” Tanana continued. “Each day we meet here.”

  “I knit, too,” Caroline said, broaching the subject carefully. She wanted to be part of this community—at least, for as long as she lived here. Although her skill might not have been at the level of these women, she could learn. They’d been so kind to her that she wanted to return their kindness.

  “Would you like to join us?” Tanana asked politely.

  “Please.” A moment later, Caroline was handed a pair of needles and several skeins of thick yarn and, with Tanana to guide her, was set to work.

  That night, Caroline was bursting with excitement, so much that she could hardly contain it. When Paul walked in the cabin door, she practically flew across the room.

  “Hi,” she greeted him. “Did you know about the…party?”

  His smiling eyes delved into hers. “Tanana told me about it last week. She said it was time I let you out of bed long enough to meet the village women.”

  Caroline decided to ignore that comment. “They’re wonderful people.”

  “I know, love.” Once he’d removed his parka and hung it in the closet, Caroline grabbed his hand and led him into the bedroom. She’d placed the nonfood items on the quilt for him to examine. He picked up each piece and nodded his pleasure at the village’s generosity, praising the skill and beauty of their art. When he came to the oddly shaped piece of knitting, he regarded it skeptically. “And what’s this?”

  “Oh yes, I nearly forgot. The women knit, but I guess you already know that. Anyway, they let me sit and work with them this afternoon. Of course I’m not nearly as good as they are and my poor sweater wouldn’t be anywhere near good enough to sell to the tourists.” She laughed. “It’s funny to think that some tourist might buy a sweater assuming it was knit by a local Athabascan only to discover it was made by a Seattle nurse.” She giggled again. “At the end of the afternoon, I think Tanana was afraid of hurting my feelings, so I asked if
I could do something else with my first effort.”

  “And what was that?”

  “I told them I wanted to knit this sweater for you.”

  “What did they say to that?”

  “Oh, they were pleased, but then they would be, since they probably couldn’t sell it.” She waltzed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. “And I made dinner. Tanana looked so tired that I offered. Naturally, she argued with me, but not too strenuously.”

  “So you had a good day.”

  “I had a marvelous day!” She turned her back to him to stir the simmering gravy. All afternoon she’d been trying to come up with a way of persuading Paul that she should join the other women on a daily basis. He’d been so unyielding in other matters that she dreaded a confrontation now.

  “I suppose you want to go back?”

  Caroline whirled around, her heart in her eyes. “Yes. Are you okay with that?”

  “I think it’s more your decision than mine.”

  She understood what he was saying, but bit back a ready reply while she took slices of meat from the oven and forked them onto a platter, which she set on the table.

  “Unless you trust me again,” she said, her eyes holding his, “I know I won’t ever be able to prove I’m trustworthy in your eyes.”

  “Then do as you wish.”

  Caroline was so pleased that she was hard-pressed not to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him the way she had that morning. It wasn’t until after they’d eaten that she realized how much she actually wanted to kiss him, but she quickly pushed the thought from her mind.

  Later, she found herself humming while washing the dinner dishes and paused, surprised at herself. She was happy—truly content. She turned to find Paul watching her as he dried their plates and they shared a smile.

  Once again they played a heated game of Scrabble, but without any wagers. This time Caroline won.

  “You’ll note that I didn’t use a single dirty word,” she told him with a proud snicker.

  Paul chuckled and reset the board for a second game.

  —

  That next afternoon and for several more that followed, Caroline joined the village women for their daily knitting session. The first few days, the women were shy and didn’t say much to her. Gradually they opened up and she became privy to the village gossip. More than one of the women seemed to find something about Caroline amusing. Every time they looked in her direction, they leaned over to the woman next to them and whispered something that made the other smile. Finally, when Caroline’s curiosity got the better of her, she asked Tanana about it.