Mail-Order Bride

by Debbie Macomber

  The young woman blushed. “They say you are a fortunate woman.”

  “Fortunate? I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you have Paul for your lover. They are envious that at night he sleeps at your side and holds you in his arms. They say you will have many healthy babies with Paul. He is…I don’t know the English word.”

  “Never mind,” Caroline returned, her fingers tightening around the knitting needles. “I know what you mean.” Did she ever! So Paul was a virile male who had sampled the delights of the village women before her arrival.

  By the time she got back to the cabin, Caroline was so furious that she paced the small enclosure, ready to give her husband a piece of her mind the instant he returned home. She’d never dreamed, hadn’t thought, he’d ever do anything that low. No wonder he wanted a wife. From the looks the women had been sending her way, they’d probably started fighting over him. Well, they could have him. She was finished with him. Nothing could keep her in Gold River now. She didn’t care what it took, she was leaving Paul just as soon as she could.

  When the wooden door opened and the howling wind whirled through the cabin, it was only a spring breeze compared to the ice around Caroline’s heart.

  “Hi,” Paul said with a grin, but one look at her contorted, angry features and his smile quickly faded. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t wait for him to remove his coat. Her index finger found its mark in the middle of his chest. “You are despicable. You are lower than a snake. You are…” Words failed her as hot tears blurred her vision. “I can’t find the words to tell you how much I despise you!”

  Paul didn’t look particularly concerned. “Was it something I said, or are you still mad about that four-letter word I used in the Scrabble game?”

  Chapter 6

  “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Caroline flared. Her outrage got the better of her, and she picked up a book from the end table and hurled it at him.

  With a dexterity few could manage, Paul caught the book and the saltshaker that immediately followed. The amusement fled his eyes. “Caroline, what’s gotten into you?”

  “You…animal!”

  “Tell me what I did.”

  “You…beast!” The pepper shaker whizzed past his ear.

  “Caroline!”

  “You…you…adulterer!” That might not make complete sense, since he hadn’t been married, but it conveyed her disgust.

  Stunned, Paul watched as she stormed into the bedroom and viciously slammed the door. For a minute he did nothing but stand with a book and saltshaker in his hand, too bemused to move. Beyond her explosive fury, what shocked Paul most was the hurt he saw in her eyes.

  “Adulterer?” he repeated in an astonished whisper.

  —

  Inside the room, Caroline sat on the edge of the bed. Stinging tears threatened to run down her face, and she rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes in a futile effort to restrain them. Damn it all, she was falling in love with him—head over heels in love with a man who had neither morals nor conscience. If she didn’t love him, then knowing what he’d done wouldn’t hurt this much. Caroline cried harder. She didn’t want to love him. A hiccupping sob ripped through her throat and she buried her face in her hands.

  Her crying devastated Paul. He’d planned to wait until her anger had dissipated before trying to reason with her, but he couldn’t. Every sob felt like a punch to his abdomen.

  “Caroline,” he called from the other side of the door. “Can we talk about this?”

  Silence.

  “Caroline, believe me, I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ll just bet you don’t!”

  “I don’t.” He tried the knob, but she’d locked the door. “As your husband, I demand that you open this door immediately.” He felt foolish saying it, but couldn’t think of anything else.

  She snickered.

  “Caroline…please.” When she didn’t respond, he rammed his hands in his pants pockets. “Are you angry about our wedding night? Is that it?” Standing directly in front of the door, he muttered, “I can see it isn’t going to do any good to try talking to you now. You’re in no mood to be reasonable.”

  With that, the bedroom door opened so unexpectedly that he almost fell through.

  Caroline glared at him with renewed animosity. “Do you mean to tell me that…that on the night we were married you…you took advantage of me?”

  “Caroline, if you’d listen…”

  “O-o-h.” Her clenched fists pummeled his chest until her hands felt numb with pain.

  “That’s enough.” Paul caught her wrists and pinned her against the wall. Her shoulders heaved with exertion, and tears streaked her face and brimmed in her wide blue eyes.

  Trembling, she collected herself and drew in a ragged breath. Briefly, she struggled, but Paul’s hold tightened. His fierce look held her as effectively as his hands. Caroline met his eyes with open defiance.

  “Love.” His voice was a hoarse whisper of bewilderment and confusion, his face mere inches from her own. “What is it?”

  He spoke with such gentleness that it would be easy to forget what he was and what he’d done. “Let me go,” she said, her rage gone now, replaced by a far deeper, more crippling emotion: sorrow.

  Paul saw the pain in her eyes and was filled with such perplexity that he reacted instinctively. In an effort to comfort, his mouth sought hers.

  His kiss was insistent, demanding, relentless. Almost against her will Caroline parted her lips to meet his. Her eagerness for him grew, an eagerness that rocked her soul. Gradually, both she and Paul relaxed, the crucial need abated. He loosened his grip but continued to hold her wrists. Caroline became aware of the heavy thud of his heart while her own pulsed with a frantic rhythm.

  They breathed in unison. Paul’s eyes searched her face as he looked for any clue that would help him understand her irrational behavior. Hot color stained her cheeks, but he didn’t know if it was from her anger or her excitement during their kiss. Her lips were moist, and he bent his head to taste their sweetness again. When he finally drew back, he and Caroline were both trembling.

  He released her hands, and Caroline dropped them to her sides. “I was with the women today,” she began, in a voice so fraught with pain that Paul wrapped her securely in his arms. “And they told me…”

  “Told you what, Caroline?”

  “That…you’re a fantastic lover.”

  He frowned. “Ah,” he whispered slowly, then cupped her face with his hands, kissing her briefly. “And you assumed they meant it literally?”

  “How else was I supposed to take it?”

  “I’ve been living here for several years now,” he began. “I’ve become friends with many of them and their families. They’re, uh, kind enough to favor me with certain attributes they believe I possess.”

  Caroline’s gaze met his. “They sounded so…so knowledgeable.”

  He grinned widely. “Hey, I’m only one man. I couldn’t possibly have had that many lovers.”

  “Have you had…even one?” Her intense gaze locked with his.

  “By everything I hold dear, I swear to you that I’ve never had a single lover in Gold River.” Paul had assumed she’d welcome his assurance, but his words produced the most uncanny response: Tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her face. Caroline hugged him fiercely, burying her face in his sweater. Half laughing, half crying, she lifted her head and spread eager kisses mingled with salty tears on his face. Gently Paul held her, wondering if he’d been outside civilization so long he’d lost his ability to understand women. He sighed; perhaps he had.

  —

  Their relationship altered after that night. The changes were subtle ones and came about so naturally that Paul could only guess their meaning. The first thing he noticed was that Caroline had placed her suitcase under the bed, as though she’d finally accepted her position in his life and planned to remain. He
yearned for her to forget her hope of returning to Seattle.

  He knew she spent a lot of time with Tanana, and apparently they’d worked out an agreement concerning dinner, since Caroline started cooking all their meals. She’d once told him she was an excellent cook and he learned that she hadn’t exaggerated. She was clever, inventive, and resourceful. It wasn’t every woman who could make dried eggs edible.

  Everyone was her friend; even Walter had become her ally. Paul had been in the village six months before the old man had fully accepted him. Walter’s acceptance of Caroline was typical of the love she received from all the people of Gold River. The children adored her; Caroline couldn’t walk out the door without two or three of them running to her side. One day Paul discovered Caroline in the meeting hall, skipping rope with the sixth-grade girls. Another day he found her involved in a heated soccer game with the junior-high boys.

  When an old woman had a toothache, she came to Caroline. A feverish baby was brought to her as well. A little boy with a stomachache showed up unexpectedly one afternoon. The medical clinic was open once a week when a team from the Public Health Department flew in for appointments, but it was Caroline the villagers came to. At first she used her own personal quantity of painkillers and bandages; then, as a qualified nurse, she received access to the clinic’s supply. Paul felt absolutely delighted that she could use her training this way.

  But now he was so much in love he thought he’d die from wanting her. But to rush into lovemaking now would be foolish. She was so close to recognizing she loved him, and when that day came it would be right and beautiful, although he often wondered how much longer he could hold out. He endured the sweetest torture every morning when he woke to find her in his arms. At night, the agony was far greater; he dreaded her touch and at the same time craved it.

  That evening after dinner, Caroline brought out a large package and placed it on the ottoman in front of him.

  Paul lowered the two-day-old newspaper and raised questioning eyes to his wife. “What’s this?”

  “Open it and see.” She’d worked so hard on this sweater that if it didn’t fit, she’d burst into tears. “I probably should’ve saved it for Christmas, but…” It was silly to be this nervous. She wanted to please him and the holidays were still six weeks away. Besides, she couldn’t think of a better way to tell Paul she loved him.

  “But what, love?”

  “But I thought you deserved it now.” For calming her angry tirades, for being so patient with her, for his gentleness and a hundred other admirable qualities. And because she longed to be his wife in the truest sense of the word.

  Carefully, Paul removed the paper and held up the Irish cable-knit sweater. “Caroline, I’m…stunned. It’s a fine piece of work.”

  “If it doesn’t fit, I can redo it.” She couldn’t believe she’d made that offer; the pattern was difficult and complicated. If it hadn’t been for Tanana’s and the other women’s help, she would’ve given up and unraveled the sweater weeks before.

  “I’m sure it’ll fit perfectly.” To prove his point, he stood and pulled it over his head. “Where did you get the yarn?” he asked, running his hands over the sleeves. The sweater was a lovely shade of winter wheat and far lighter than the material the village women typically used.

  “I sent away for it. Mary Finefeather had a catalog.”

  “How did you pay for it?” She’d never come to him for money, although he would’ve been more than pleased to give it to her. They had little need for cash in Gold River. The supply store and grocery sent him monthly accounts and his paychecks were automatically deposited in the Fairbanks Savings and Loan.

  “I used my credit card.”

  He nodded and kissed her lightly. “Thank you, love. I’ll always treasure it.”

  Caroline’s returning smile was weak, as though she was disappointed by his response. Paul watched her leave and wondered if he’d said something to offend her. He began to doubt that he’d ever understand her.

  Hours later, Paul lay at her side. His even breathing convinced Caroline he was sound asleep as she lay on her back, wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling. She was now certain that she was a failure. For two weeks, she’d been trying to tell Paul that she was ready to be his wife in every way. How a man could be so completely blind was beyond her. If it hadn’t been for a few secret looks of longing she’d intercepted, she would have abandoned her cause. She made excuses to be close to him, to touch him. All the signals she’d been sending him would have stopped a freight train! The sweater had been her ace in the hole, and even that had failed. In return, he’d kissed her like an affectionate older brother.

  Ah well, there was always tomorrow. Maybe if she wore the nightgown her aunts had given her…She smiled and her eyes drifted shut. She couldn’t get any more obvious than that.

  —

  The next day was a busy one. The small town was holding an early Thanksgiving feast, and it seemed half of Alaska had been invited. People had been arriving from the outlying areas all morning. Caroline and Tanana were responsible for decorating the meeting hall, and the two of them made a comical sight. Caroline wouldn’t allow Tanana, who was in an advanced stage of pregnancy, to climb the ladder to hang the crepe-paper streamers, so Caroline wrapped them around her neck and hauled them up herself.

  “This isn’t fair,” Tanana complained. “All I’m doing is holding the ladder for you.”

  “I’m not going to let you stand on this rickety old thing,” Caroline muttered, stretching as far as her limbs would allow to stick a thumbtack into the beam.

  “If Paul ever saw this, he’d be mad.”

  “He isn’t going to know, and you’re not going to tell him—right?”

  “What will you bribe me with?”

  Caroline laughed. “Hush, now, and hand me another streamer.” She climbed down a couple steps and Tanana gave her the next set of bright orange and yellow crepe-paper strips.

  When they’d finished, the two women surveyed the hall, proud of their accomplishment. It was astonishing how much a little color added to the festive spirit.

  Mary Finefeather, a foster grandmother to many of the village kids, delivered sandwiches to Caroline and Tanana. Typical of the old woman’s personality, Mary spoke in choppy one-word sentences.

  “Eat,” she said with a grin.

  “I think that’s an order,” Caroline commented, and looked at Tanana, who smiled in reply. The younger woman had lost much of her shyness now, and Caroline considered her a valued friend.

  “What are you getting Paul for Christmas?” Tanana asked, studying Caroline.

  “I…don’t know. I gave him the sweater last night.” She wished she hadn’t; with the holidays fast approaching, she had wasted her best gift—seemingly for naught.

  “I know what he wants.”

  “You do?”

  Tanana placed her hand on her swollen abdomen and stared at her stomach. “He wants a son.”

  Caroline nearly swallowed her sandwich whole. “Oh?”

  “You’ll give him fine sons? And daughters?”

  Embarrassed, Caroline looked away. “Someday.”

  “Soon?”

  “I…I don’t know.” Caroline couldn’t very well announce that she and Paul had never made love, at least not that she could remember.

  Caroline worked for part of the afternoon, then returned to the cabin, frustrated and tired. She’d slept poorly, and tonight would be another late night. Before she could talk herself out of the idea, she climbed onto the bed and closed her eyes, intending to rest for only a few minutes.

  Paul found her there an hour later, barely visible in the soft light of dusk. He paused in the doorway of their bedroom and experienced such a wave of desire that he sucked in a tight breath. Her blouse had ridden up to expose the creamy smooth skin of her midriff. Blood pounded in his head and his feet seemed to move of their own accord, taking him to her side.

  His gaze lingered on the smooth slant of her brow an
d a smile briefly touched his face. She could make a clearer statement with an arch of her eyebrow than some women said in twenty years. Her nose was perfect and her sweet, firm lips were enough to drive a man insane. He thought about the last time they’d kissed and how, for hours afterward, he’d been in a foul mood, barking at Walter and the others until Walter had suggested that Paul do something to cure whatever was ailing him.

  Caroline was ailing him. He wanted to touch her, to—

  Caroline yawned and rolled over.

  Paul jumped away from her as though he’d been caught doing something wrong. His knees felt like slush in a spring thaw. On unsteady feet, he walked over to the dresser.

  “Caroline, it’s time to get up.” He hardly recognized the strained, harsh voice as his own.

  Slowly she opened her eyes. She’d been having the most wonderful dream about giving Paul the child Tanana claimed he wanted so badly. One look at her husband, who stood stiffly on the other side of the room, was enough to return her to the cold world of reality. His back was to her.

  “Hi,” she said, stretching her hands high above her head and yawning loudly.

  “Hi,” he said gruffly. He didn’t dare turn around. If her midriff had been showing before, he could only imagine what he’d glimpse now. He felt himself go weak all over again.

  Caroline frowned at his abruptness. “Did you have a good day?”

  “Sure.” He pulled open the top drawer and took out a clean T-shirt. “You’d better get dressed or we’ll be late for the party.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Five.”

  Caroline’s frown deepened. No one was expected before seven. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  No, we don’t, Paul wanted to shout. He, for one, was at the end of his rope.