Mail-Order Bride (6 page)

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.

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?”

“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.