by Cassie Hayes
“What made a wealthy, beautiful young socialite become a mail-order bride?”
Isabelle’s eyes grew to the size of saucers, and she coughed in discomfort. True to form, she deflected his question brilliantly.
“Your parents must be so proud of you.”
She hadn’t won the game, but he respected her tactic enough to answer honestly. “I couldn’t say. My father was supportive of my decision, but he’s what you might call…enigmatic. I have no idea if he’s ever been proud of me. I rather doubt it.”
The most adorable crease furrowed her otherwise perfect brow. “How could he not be proud? You’re serving your country!”
Dermot shrugged his ambivalence, but deep down his gut churned with regret.
“What about your mother?” Isabelle continued. “She must be over the moon.”
“You might think that, but you’d be wrong. At least I think so.”
“No, she must be delighted. What mother wouldn’t be?”
“The kind of mother who prefers the company of a bartender over that of her son.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he could tell by the sympathetic look in her eyes, he’d failed. In for a penny, in for a pound.
“My mother paid little attention to me as a child. I was mostly raised by a nanny who thought I was the most perfect angel.”
The way Isabelle’s eyes flashed reminded him of the Northern Lights. “Me too! Nanny Biggs was the most wonderful, most loving, kindest…”
She trailed off and a profound sadness chased away the brilliance. An overwhelming urge to take away that sadness came over Dermot. Hooking a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up until her entire face was exposed to him. His hand skimmed along her impossibly smooth cheek and held her steady, as he lowered his head and let his lips brush across hers in the lightest kiss he’d ever given a woman. Drawing away, he waited for her reaction.
Her eyelids fluttered, and a rapturous sigh escaped her perfect, rosebud lips. He was about to go in for another, deeper kiss when her eyes blinked open and she pulled away.
“This view is so amazing!” she said, her voice much too high and much too strained.
He decided not to push. Either she’d come to him on her own, or she’d leave next Monday, as she’d promised. He wasn’t sure he wanted that, but he didn’t want her to stay if she truly didn’t want to be there.
“Did you see the eagle’s nest? It’s called an eyrie.” He pointed to a smudge of tan in the top of a nearby tree.
She gasped as she watched a bald eagle take off and soar into the sky. “How ever did you find such a wonderful spot?”
Dermot chuckled. “I got lost. I do that a lot, actually.” He nudged her, as he had on the porch. “See, I don’t know what I’m doing either. I just pretend and hope no one notices.”
Isabelle turned to him, entrapping him with her gaze. A bear could have charged them, and he wouldn’t have noticed. Her soft voice was as smooth as the maple syrup he’d poured on his flapjacks.
“Miss Hazel told me that sometimes we just have to ask for help. Maybe…maybe we could help each other?”
Dermot longed to hold her, to kiss her — for real this time — but he kept his distance, as hard as it was.
“Does that mean you might consider…staying?”
Her eyes dropped for a moment, then met his again, a devilish twinkle sparkling in them. Her lips tilted into a smirk and she laid her hand on his.
“If you’re lucky.”
Chapter 6
“How long—“
“Shh!” Janey scolded Isabelle.
“But what if—“
“Shh!”
After Dermot had taken Isabelle to what she now considered ‘their valley’ over a week earlier, she’d decided not to leave on the next train for Ottawa. After all, she’d come out west for the adventure, so she might as well have one before heading home. Her heart thumped so loudly in her chest at the mere thought of leaving, she worried Janey would shush her again.
Janey jerked her arm violently, startling Isabelle, then whooped loudly. “Got it!”
She sprinted for the little snare she’d taught Isabelle to make and freed a wriggling, furry rabbit. While Isabelle had set up the snare, Janey had insisted on showing her exactly when she should pull the string that would trap dinner. Unfortunately, Isabelle’s mind had strayed to thoughts of Dermot brushing his lips against hers and she missed the entire thing.
“Here,” Janey said, thrusting the squealing bunny at her by the ears. “You kill.”
Isabelle reached for the rabbit, but instead of wringing its neck, as Janey had taught her, she snuggled it up against her cheek and cooed, “Awww…”
“Izzy, you kill.”
Isabelle turned pleading eyes on her friend and mentor. “But it’s so soft. I-I don’t think I can do it.”
It was one thing when the rabbits were already dead from the hanging snares that didn’t needed to be constantly tended, but this was a different matter entirely. She handed the bunny back to Janey, who sighed in exasperation and deftly broke its neck. Isabelle sniffed back the tears that had formed in her eyes, and chastised herself for not being braver. She’d been the one to ask Janey to teach her how to become self-sufficient, after all.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, ashamed of herself.
Janey simply shrugged and shoved the rabbit into her bag. “More for me. Now we check other traps.”
By the time they reached the end of their line, Isabelle’s traps — the ones she’d set up with her own hands — yielded six plump, and thankfully dead, rabbits. For whatever reason, skinning and cleaning the dead ones was far less difficult for her than ending the life of one. Of course it hadn’t started out that way, but she was still quite proud of the fact she didn’t vomit the first time Janey made her clean her own catch.
“Would you like two, Janey? I only need two for the stew I have planned, and I’d like to give a couple to our friends, Jonathan and Elaine.”
Janey steadfastly refused to accept any kind of payment for teaching Isabelle how to survive in the Yukon, explaining it would be like expecting payment from a baby for keeping it alive. Isabelle had laughed at the astute observation. She was a baby, basically.
But Isabelle wanted to repay Janey’s kindness and patience, so she’d resorted to giving her friend gifts at random times. After one particularly grueling day learning how to chop wood, she’d noticed Janey’s old wool coat had some holes, so she gave her one of the three she’d brought with her. She might miss it one day, but she’d still have two to choose from and she’d have the comfort of knowing Janey would stay warm.
“No good wasting meat,” Janey said, taking the proffered carcasses. “Skins too?”
Isabelle smiled and gave her all six. She’d tried learning to tan them, but so far they’d all simply turned rancid. One day she’d get the hang of it, but until then… “No good wasting skins either,” she said.
Janey grinned and waved goodbye as she headed for her village, leaving Isabelle alone in the woods. Over the last week or so, she’d come to love the serenity and profound sense of peace she felt whenever she had a chance to take a long walk in them. Dermot had worried she’d get lost while he was off working, but she hadn’t so far. Turned out, her sense of direction was a thousand times better than his.
As she neared Jonathan and Elaine’s cabin, a rustling in the underbrush set her heart racing. When a mink darted across her path, she laughed in relief, as well as wonder that women in Ottawa spent thousands on coats made from the nasty little monsters.
Then she heard a sound in the distance that turned her blood ice cold in her veins. She’d never heard a cougar scream before, but she knew in a heartbeat that’s what had made the noise. Thankfully, it sounded far, far away, but she still hurried the final few hundred feet to Elaine’s door.
“Did you hear that?” Elaine asked as she ushered Isabelle inside.
“Why do you think I’m out of breath?
” Isabelle said with a laugh, as she pulled the rabbits from her hunting sack. “Here. I thought you’d like some fresh meat.”
Elaine’s eyes grew wide. “Ooh, thank you! Where did you get these? They’re so big!”
“They’re my first official catches, all on my own. Janey didn’t help at all this time. We did catch one alive, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill it.”
“Oh, I don’t blame you,” the lovely blonde said as she laid the rabbits on a small counter Jonathan had built for her, then poured Isabelle some tea. “I still don’t understand why you’re learning this kind of thing. Doesn’t Dermot provide for you enough?”
“It’s not that,” Isabelle protested. “I was just so…useless when I got here. You all did your best to prepare me, but I was too blockheaded to fully understand. Now that I’m here, I want to learn everything I can, and who better to teach me than Janey?”
“Speaking of learning, how did your bread turn out the other day?”
“It was perfect, thanks to you. I only wish we had real ovens, instead of having to bake in Dutch ovens. It’s just not the same.”
Elaine smiled. “No, but I like to think it tastes better for it. How many people can say they’ve baked fresh bread in the Yukon on top of a pot belly stove?”
Isabelle laughed. “That’s a good point. Next time Dermot makes a face at what I’ve made for dinner, I’m going to use that on him.”
Elaine sat down across from her, cradling her tin cup in her hands. “So it seems things are going better with him?”
“Definitely better than the first day, but…”
Isabelle looked down into her cup, watching an errant tea leaf slip around the surface of the hot liquid.
“But?” Elaine urged.
“We had such a rough start, I’m afraid I still don’t fully trust his motivations. And quite honestly, I’m not sure he trusts mine.”
“That’s what makes you so perfect for each other, don’t you think?”
Isabelle blushed and couldn’t hide her smile from her friend. “He is very charming and so handsome, but the problem is he knows it.”
“Like I said…” Elaine said, raising an accusing eyebrow at Isabelle.
“Hey! I’m not conceited. Am I?”
“No, but you know what your assets are and you’re not afraid to use them. I admire that, actually. But anyone who knows you for more than a day can see you’re one of the most generous souls alive.”
“Thank you,” Isabelle whispered, pleased and a little terrified that someone would know her so well. She’d spent most of her life hiding everything that was true about herself, but here she could just…be.
“And are you succumbing to Dermot’s many charms?”
The heat in Isabelle’s cheeks intensified and she looked away, not wanting to commit, though suspecting the truth deep down. It was time to turn the attention back on Elaine.
“What about you? Have you infected Jonathan with your love of reading yet?”
Her friend frowned. “Not really, and I can’t understand it. Winter’s coming and all we’ll have for entertainment are books.”
“I’m sorry.” Isabelle reached out and patted Elaine’s hand.
Elaine smiled and waved away her concern. “Don’t be. If that’s his only flaw, I’ll count myself a lucky woman.”
“Speaking of winter, do you have enough cold weather clothes? Do you need to raid my many bags?”
They laughed at Isabelle’s naivety at bringing so many fancy dresses into the wilderness. At their last meeting in town, which had also been their first since arriving, she’d offered the other brides their pick of her clothing, if they’d come visit her. So far none had, but Lisa and Maryanne were still getting settled in. Hopefully by the time the weather turned really bad, she’d be down to only four bags of clothes instead of six.
“I don’t suppose you brought a thick wool nightdress and wool stockings, did you?” Elaine asked, sipping her tea. “I suspect the nights are going to be mighty cold very soon.”
Isabelle grinned. “No, but I did place an order with Jed for four sets of that very thing. They should be here on the next train.”
“Oh, Isabelle, you shouldn’t have!”
“Consider it an early Christmas present.”
“That’s so thoughtful. Thank you! Speaking of our next trip into town, are you really going to bring that cougar cub back here?”
“Of course! I can still feel her fuzzy fur against my cheek. I’m not sure how wise it was for Lisa to name her, though.”
“Aww, but Clara is such a cute name for a baby cougar.”
Isabelle laughed. “I agree, but it’ll just make it that much harder to let go when her poor leg is healed.”
“Do you suppose that scream we heard a few minutes ago was Clara’s mother?”
“I do now. She’s probably frantic over what’s happened to her baby.”
Elaine stood and cleared their empty cups. “Well, it’s our job to see Clara heals up and is reunited with her mama. We’ll just need to make sure the boys don’t find out before that happens.”
The women said their goodbyes, and the entire way back to Dermot’s cabin — he insisted on calling it ‘theirs’, but she wasn’t entirely sure yet — Isabelle wondered exactly how she was going to keep such a big secret from her husband.
And if she even wanted to.
“So that’s what cougar poop looks like, huh?”
Kelu, the Kaska tracker Dermot had hired to teach him the tricks of his trade, raised a bushy eyebrow at him, then returned his attention to the pile of scat in the middle of the trail. He pointed up the trail, and Dermot gathered that was the direction the animal had been headed, though how Kelu knew that was a mystery.
Kelu didn’t have much English, and Dermot didn’t have much Kaska, but somehow they managed to communicate well enough for Dermot to learn, at least a little. His true motivation for the lessons was less about tracking animals — or criminals — and more about helping his sense of direction. That was a hard concept to explain to Kelu though, so he did his best to pay attention to his surroundings and soak up as much as he could.
Of course, Isabelle had inspired him to take this bold step. She’d shown no fear in her lessons with Janey, and as a result, she could cook better than him after less than two weeks. And he’d lived up here for a year!
His thoughts were interrupted by Kelu grabbing his hand and poking it into the pile of poo. His initial reaction was to yank it out, but Kelu never did anything without a very good reason. Dermot took a deep breath and tried to understand what the tracker was trying to show him.
The scat was, of course, disgusting, but what stood out to him was how cool it felt to the touch, even all the way at in the center, where his fingers were. That meant the big cat had passed by the spot some time earlier, and probably wasn’t lying in wait to pounce on them.
He smiled and waved his excrement-covered hand toward the path. “Gone long time,” he said, hoping by speaking simply, Kelu would understand more easily.
The older man smiled back and nodded, then motioned Dermot to follow him up the trail.
Knowing his words held little meaning for the man, Dermot decided he would be a good person to talk to about Isabelle. He couldn’t very well open his heart up to Jonathan, not after all his bravado. Besides, they were Mounties — they weren’t supposed to have soft, mushy feelings. Of course, anyone who spent any time at all with Jonathan and Elaine knew they were head over heels for each other, but manly men didn’t speak of such things.
“So you know how I go to Moose Lick every Monday for our weekly meeting?”
Kelu glanced over his shoulder briefly, then continued stalking up the path.
“Normally, I can’t wait to get there. It’s not a city, but at least I can go buy supplies or get a meal at the saloon. And that’s on top of getting to catch up with my friends and the goings-on around the world.”
Dermot didn’t mind that the papers ol�
�� Jed stocked were usually a month old. News was news.
“Well, ever since Isabelle arrived, the very thought of going into town churns up the acid in my stomach. I wonder why that is.”
Kelu kneeled on the ground for a moment, and pointed at a big paw print, before continuing their trek — wherever it led.
“Probably because she threatened to leave on her first day as my wife. On our first trip into Moose Lick last week, I couldn’t stop myself from worrying she’d decide to go back to Ottawa, even though she hinted that she was going to stay. I about ground my teeth smooth the night before. I know, I know, she came back with me, but how do I know she won’t stay behind tomorrow when we go?”
Silence from up ahead, as usual.
“I know what you’re thinking, Kelu. Didn’t I just tell you the other day that I wasn’t so sure Isabelle was cut out for the Yukon? I hate to admit it, but I might have been wrong about that. Sure, she’s a city girl, but she’s out hunting rabbits with Janey as we speak.”
Technically, only he was speaking, but that didn’t matter.
“Honestly, the only women I’ve known who hunted were the ladies in your village, and a few of the trappers’ women. Oh, did you know she’s already given away almost half the junk she brought with her?”
Kelu kept walking, as if he couldn’t have cared less.
“I have to admit, the cabin is much more comfortable without stacks of suitcases and clothes everywhere. I’m not sure what she was thinking bringing it all in the first place. I mean, where did she think she’d be wearing a ballgown to in these parts anyway?”
No answer from the tracker.
“But that was the old Isabelle, the debutante, the socialite. This new Isabelle…” Dermot shook his head, still amazed at his wife’s transformation from a perfectly proper lady to a plucky pioneer. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she rather liked it here. Maybe she even likes me a little.”
Kelu glanced back at Dermot, expressionless, but his gaze spoke volumes.
