Mail-Order Bride (7 page)

Read Mail-Order Bride Online

Authors: Debbie Macomber

His gaze lingered on the smooth slant of her brow and 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.

“Paul, what's wrong?”

“Nothing.” He slammed the drawer shut with unnecessary force. “I just happen to think it's time you got out of bed.”

“Are you angry because I took a nap?”

“No,” he snapped.

She rose to a sitting position and released a long sigh. “Sometimes I don't understand you.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Will you please turn around? I don't like talking to your back.” She made the request softly, confused by his mood. She'd never known Paul to be so short-tempered and illogical.

“If you don't mind, I'm busy.”

Caroline blinked. She replayed the conversation with Tanana, and a heaviness settled on her shoulders. She loved Paul and yearned to have his child, but instead of growing together they seemed to be drifting apart. Sudden tears misted her eyes. She'd thought that once she acknowledged she was in love with him everything would be perfect. Instead, it had gotten worse—much worse.

Paul tossed his sweater on the bed. “Good grief, don't tell me you're crying! One day you're hurling saltshakers at me and the next you're weeping because I tell you to hurry and get ready for a party you've been working on all day.”

Her eyes widened with determination to hold back the tears. “I'm not crying. That's ridiculous. Why should I be crying?”

He threw up his hands. “Who knows? I've given up trying to understand you.”

—

The party was a grand success. The meeting hall was filled to the rafters with friends and loved ones from nearby communities. The dinner proved to be delicious and Caroline received rave reviews for her apple pies and decorating efforts. Although she smiled and made all the appropriate responses, she couldn't seem to get into the party mood.

When the tables were cleared and the dancing began, Caroline saw how Paul seemed to dance with every woman in the room but her. Not that Caroline was given much time to notice. One partner after another claimed her hand for a turn around the floor. After an hour, she pleaded exhaustion and sat down, fanning her flushed face with one hand.

To her surprise, Paul joined her, sitting in the chair beside hers. His lips were pinched, his face grim. “I imagine you're pleased to have every man for a hundred miles panting after you.”

Caroline's mouth fell open at the unjust accusation. Quickly she composed herself, stiffening her back. “I'm going to forgive you for that remark, Paul Trevor, because you owe me one. But from here on we're even.” She stood up and purposely walked away from him. Her eyes clouded by confusion, she nearly stumbled into Walter and, glancing up at him, hurriedly stammered an apology.

“Didn't you promise me this dance?” Walter said.

Still unable to find her tongue, Caroline nodded.

Studying her, the older man guided her onto the dance floor. A waltz was playing and Caroline slipped one arm around his neck and placed her hand in his.

“All right, girl, tell me—what's made you so unhappy?”

Caroline's mouth formed a poor excuse for a smile. “Paul. I don't know how any man can be so stupid.”

“He's blinded by his love for you.”

“I sincerely doubt that's it.” Caroline looked directly into Walter's face. “I have the feeling he's ready to ship me back to Seattle.” There'd been a time when she'd prayed for exactly that, but now her heart ached at the mere thought of leaving him.

Standing by the punch bowl, Paul watched her. Caroline could feel his dark gaze on her back. With every passing minute, his eyes grew darker and more angry.

Walter chuckled. “Paul would rather cut off his arm than send you away. Have you told him you love him?”

Caroline's shocked gaze clashed with the man's wise old eyes. “No.”

“Then do it, and soon, before he makes an even bigger fool of himself.”

When the dance ended, Walter delivered her to Paul's side and quietly left them. Caroline and Paul stood glaring at each other until the music started.

“Shall we?” Caroline asked, glancing toward the crowded floor.

“Why not? You've seen fit to dance with every other male here tonight.”

“Paul,” she whispered. “Are you jealous?”

He didn't answer her, but she saw that his face was as grim as she'd ever seen it. His hold on her was loose, as if he couldn't bear to touch her.

Caroline swallowed her pride. “There isn't anyone here I'd rather dance with than you.”

Still, he said nothing. His eyes were focused straight ahead, and she didn't see so much as a flicker in his rock-hard features to indicate that he'd heard her or that her words had any effect.

“When I first came to Gold River, I hated it.”

If possible, his mouth grew harder, more inflexible.

“But…things changed and I realized I was happy here. There's a wildness to this land. A challenge that makes people strong and wise. I've seen that in you and admired your patience and gentleness.”

Momentarily, Paul dropped his eyes and studied her as though he didn't quite trust what she was saying.

Caroline thought her heart would burst with pain when he quickly glanced away.

“You idiot,” she said, and brought her shoe down hard on the top of his foot.

Paul let out a small yelp of pain.

“I'm trying to tell you I love you, but you can forget it! And while you're at it, you can forget about our son, too!” She broke away and left him holding one leg like a flamingo while he nursed his injured foot.

—

At the door, Caroline grabbed her boots and parka and stormed out of the meeting hall, too angry for tears, too frustrated to consider what she was doing. She knew only that she had to escape.

“Caroline!”

His frantic call came to her before she reached the cabin door. With heightened resolve, she pretended she hadn't heard him.

“Caroline! Would you wait?”

She ignored his pleading as well. By the time he arrived, she was sitting by the fireplace with a book in front of her face.

“Caroline…what did you just say?” He was breathless, his voice rushed and uneven.

“It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” he whispered in awe. “
Do
you love me? Caroline, would you please look at me?”

“No.”

Paul felt he was going to explode with happiness. “And what was that crazy remark about a son?”

She turned the page of her book and glanced with keen interest at the beginning of the next chapter, although she had no idea what was going on in the story.

Paul fell to his knees at her side and pried the book from her stiff fingers. She refused to meet his eyes.

“Caroline…” He breathed her name with a heart overflowing with expectancy and hope. “Are you telling me you're ready to be my wife?”

“I couldn't have made it any plainer. I've flaunted myself in front of you all week. I gave you the sweater…hoping…Paul Trevor, you're an idiot! For days, I've been throwing myself at you and you…you've been so blind and so stupid.”

“You have?” Paul was flabbergasted. “When? Days?”

“Weeks!”

“Weeks?” He
had
been blind, but no longer.

His hands framed her face as he guided her lips to his, kissing her with such hungry intensity it robbed her of breath. Somehow he lifted her from the chair, cradled her in his arms, and carried her into their bedroom. He placed her on the mattress and knelt over her, studying her to be sure this wasn't a dream.

Caroline stared into his eyes and twined her arms around his neck, bringing his mouth back to her own. “You idiot,” she whispered again.

“Not anymore, love.”

Their lips met over and over, as though each kiss was sweeter and more potent than the one before. Holding back nothing, Caroline surrendered to him with joyful abandon. He explored her face, her neck, her shoulders, charting undiscovered territory with his lips as he helped her undress. Finally they were both free of restricting clothes and Paul kissed her until she responded with a wantonness she didn't know she possessed. They broke apart, winded and panting.

“Caroline,” he murmured, his face keen and ardent in the moonlight. “Are you sure?”

“I've never been more sure of anything in my life.”

—

Deeply content, Caroline lay with her cheek against her husband's chest. Her leg stroked his and she sighed her happiness. There was no turning back for them now; they were truly husband and wife, their commitment to each other complete.

Paul's hand smoothed the tumbled hair from her face. “Are you happy, love?”

“Very.” Her nails scraped playfully at his chest. “Why didn't you tell me it was this good? If I'd known, I would've demanded my wifely rights.” She raised her head to kiss the strong, proud line of his chin. “Tanana and the other women guessed correctly—you
are
a fantastic lover.”

Paul opened his mouth to answer her when there was a loud knock on the front door. Caroline gave him a look of dismay; no one would come unless there was trouble.

Paul rolled to his feet, his body alert. He reached for his clothes and threw them on, then hurried to the door.

Caroline dressed in a rush, anxious now. When she entered the living room, she found Paul speaking to Thomas Eagleclaw, Tanana's husband.

“Tanana's gone into labor,” Paul explained. “Her mother's with her, but she wants you.”

Caroline nodded. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Chapter 7

By the time Caroline arrived at Tanana's cabin, her heart was pounding, not with exertion from the long walk, but with excitement and, she admitted, anxiety. Her experience was limited to a sterile hospital delivery room with a doctor, other nurses, and all the necessary emergency equipment. None of that existed in Gold River, and Caroline had never felt more inadequate.

Thomas and Paul led the way to their cabin. Tanana lay in the center of a double bed, her face glistening with perspiration, her eyes wide with pain. The young woman held out her hand to Caroline. “Thank you for coming.”

“When did the contractions start?” Caroline asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Tanana lowered her gaze. “This afternoon.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I wasn't sure they meant I was in labor.”

Caroline understood. Tanana had mentioned twice that week that she'd been experiencing “twinges,” and Caroline had told her those were normal and she needn't worry.

The older woman in the bedroom rose to greet her. Tanana's mother smiled her welcome and returned to her rocking chair, content to let Caroline assume the role of midwife. Caroline went to the kitchen to wash her hands, praying silently that this would be an easy birth, routine in every way.

It wasn't. Hours later, both Caroline and Tanana were drenched in sweat. The girl was terrified. Caroline, although outwardly calm, was equally frightened. Tanana's mother continued to rock, offering an encouraging smile now and then.

“It shouldn't be long now,” Caroline said, smoothing the hair from Tanana's brow and wiping her face with a cool washcloth.

Tanana tried to smile, but the effort was too great. “Rest as much as you can between pains,” Caroline instructed.

Tanana nodded. She closed her eyes and rolled her head to the side, ruthlessly biting the corner of her lip as another contraction took hold of her body.

“Don't fight it,” Caroline said. “Try to breathe through the pain.”

Tanana's death grip on Caroline's fingers slackened and Caroline relaxed, too. “You're doing great, Tanana. I'll check you with the next contraction and we'll see how far things have progressed.”

Caroline's worst fears were confirmed; the baby was breech. A knot of fear clogged her throat. Didn't this baby realize she didn't have a lot of experience in this area? The least it could do was cooperate! “I'm going to get some fresh water,” she told Tanana, and stood to leave the bedside. Tanana's eyes revealed her fear. “Don't worry,” Caroline said with a reassuring smile, “I'll be right back.”

In the next room, Paul was playing cards with Thomas, although it was easy to see that neither man's attention was on the game. One look at Caroline's distraught eyes, and Paul moved to her side at the kitchen sink. “What's wrong?”

“The baby is breech. Paul, I'm frightened. This is far more complicated than anything I've ever handled. My training was all in a hospital setting, and I've worked in a doctor's office for two years. You don't get much experience delivering breech babies in an office building.”

“Tanana needs you.”

“I know.” Paul was referring to strength and confidence, but she couldn't offer the poor girl something she didn't have herself.

“If you think it's more than you can cope with, we'll call in a plane and fly her to Fairbanks.”

“Yes. Please call.” But that would take hours and they both knew it. “In the meantime I'll…do my best.”

“I know you will, love.” His hands cradled her face and he kissed her, his lips fitting tenderly over hers, lending her his own strength. A whimper from Tanana broke them apart and Caroline hurried back to her friend's side.

The hours sped by, but Caroline was barely aware of their passing. She was busy every minute, talking softly, encouraging Tanana, calling on not only her experience but her instincts. Her friend's fortitude and inner strength impressed her. When the squalling infant was finally released from the young woman's body, unrestrained tears of happiness filled Caroline's eyes.

“You have a son,” she said, gently placing the baby on his mother's stomach.

“A son.” Tanana's wide smile revealed her overwhelming delight, and with a cry of joy, she fell back against the pillow.

A few minutes later, Caroline entered the kitchen, carrying the crying infant in her arms. Her eyes met Paul's as the two men rose slowly to their feet.

“A boy,” she said softly.

Thomas let out a hoot of exhilarated happiness and paused to briefly inspect his son before he rushed past Caroline to join his wife.

Paul looked down at the small bundle in her arms. His eyes softened at the wrinkled face and tiny fingers protruding from the blanket. “You must be exhausted,” he said, studying Caroline.

Lightly, she shook her head. She'd never experienced such a feeling of bliss in her life. It was as though she'd labored to deliver this child herself and he'd been born of her own body. “He's so beautiful.” Unabashed tears rained from her eyes, and she kissed the baby's sweet brow.

“Yes, but not as beautiful as you, love,” Paul said tenderly, his heart constricting at the sight of a baby in his wife's arms. The day would come when they'd have a child of their own, and the thought filled him with happy anticipation.

—

An hour later, the emergency medical team had come and gone, pronouncing both mother and son in good health. Paul took Caroline back to their cabin. Now that the surge of high spirits had faded, Caroline realized how weary she was. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”


Noon?
Really?”

Paul led her directly into their bedroom and sat her on the bed, where she fell back on the rumpled sheets and heaved a sigh, closing her eyes. Smiling down at her, Paul removed her shoes.

“Paul?”

“Hmm?” He unzipped her jeans next and slid them down her long legs. A surge of desire shot through him and he forced himself to look at her face and remember how exhausted she was. Given the least amount of encouragement, he would've fallen into bed beside her.

“Tanana told me you wanted a son.” Her eyes still closed, she felt lethargic, yet oddly contented.

“A daughter would do as well.”

“Soon?”

“Sooner than you think, if you don't get under these blankets,” he grumbled, covering her with the quilts.

Caroline smiled, feeling warm and secure. “I love you,” she murmured dreamily.

Paul stood by the edge of the bed, unsteady. “You love me?” She didn't answer him and he knew she was already asleep. His heart swelled with such joy that he felt like shouting and dancing around the small room. Instead, he bent down and kissed her temple. To stay with her now would be torture, and although it was a different kind of agony, Paul left the room and curled up on the recliner, meaning only to rest his eyes.

Caroline found him there several hours later. “Paul,” she whispered, shaking his shoulder.

With reluctance, he opened his eyes. When he saw it was Caroline, he grinned tiredly. “Did you sleep?”

“Like a baby. Why are you out here?”

“Because you needed your rest, love.” His arm circled her waist and he brought her into his lap, where he nuzzled her neck. She felt so good in his arms, soft, feminine, his—all his. Larry was in the past now and gone forever.

Paul thought of his life before she'd come to him and wondered how he'd managed all those years without her. She was as much a part of him as his own heart. She was his world, his sun, his stars. All these weeks she'd led him down a rock-strewn trail, but every minute had been worth the wait. She was more than he'd ever dreamed.

Caroline smiled. Her hands directed his mouth to hers and she kissed him hungrily. He didn't need to tell her why he'd slept on the recliner; she knew and she loved him for it.

“Oh Caroline,” he groaned. “Do you realize what you're doing?”

She answered him by unfastening the buttons of his shirt and slipping her fingers inside to stroke his chest. The wild sensations he aroused in her were so exquisite, she wanted to weep.

The sounds of their lovemaking filled the cabin. Whispered phrases of awe followed as Paul removed her blouse.

“Caroline,” he moaned. “If we don't stop right now, we're going to end up making love in this chair.”

“I don't want to stop…”

—

In the days afterward, Caroline could hardly believe that they'd waited so long to become lovers when everything was so extraordinarily right between them. Now they seemed to be making up for lost time. His desire for her both delighted and astonished her. They made love every night, and often Paul couldn't seem to wait until their usual bedtime. One evening, in the middle of a Scrabble game, she found him looking at her with a wild gleam in his eye.

“Paul?”

He glanced toward the bedroom and raised his brows in question.

“It's only seven o'clock,” she said, laughing.

His expression was almost boyish. “I can wait…I think.”

Caroline smiled, stood, and walked around the table to take him by the hand. “Well, I can't.”

They never finished playing Scrabble that night. Instead, they invented new games.

Some days Paul was barely in the door when he wanted her.

“What's for dinner?” he'd ask.

She'd tell him and catch that look in his eye and automatically turn down the stove. “Don't worry, it can simmer for an hour.”

Their dinner simmered and they sizzled. This was the honeymoon they'd never had, and Caroline prayed it would last a lifetime.

She yearned to get pregnant, but the first week of December, she discovered sadly that she wasn't.

“If the truth be known,” Paul said comfortingly, “I'd rather have you to myself for a while.”

Caroline nestled close to his side, her head in the crook of his arm. “It may not be so easy for me. My mother had difficulty getting pregnant.”

“Then we'll just have to work at it, love.”

Caroline laughed; if they worked any harder, they'd drop from sheer exhaustion. Paul kissed her and held her close. “I never thought I'd find such happiness,” he told her.

“Me neither.” He wasn't a man of many words or flowery speeches. Nor did he shower her with expensive gifts. But his actions were far more effective than mere words. He loved her, and every day he did something to let her know how much he cared.

One morning after Paul had gone to work, Caroline realized she'd nearly let all this happiness slip through her fingers. The pain of Larry's rejection had almost blinded her to Paul's love—and her own feelings. When Larry had left, Caroline had almost died inside. Now she realized how mismatched they were. They'd been friends, and had erroneously assumed their friendship meant they'd also be good lovers. Not until she'd slept with Paul could Caroline acknowledge that marriage to Larry would have been a mistake. Larry had recognized the truth long before she did.

Undoubtedly, he was torturing himself with guilt. Her aunts had mentioned his visit in their first letter, and although his name was brought up briefly in subsequent letters, Caroline knew he'd been back to visit her aunts, eager for word of her.

In an effort to ease her friend's mind, Caroline decided to write him a letter. It was the least she could do. He'd feel better and she could tell him herself how happy she was. She wished him the best and was eternally grateful that he'd had the wisdom and courage to keep them both from making a colossal mistake.

Caroline had originally intended her letter to be short, but by the time she was done, she'd written five pages. She told him about Paul and how much she loved her husband and thanked Larry for being her friend. She added bits and pieces about her life in Alaska and how beautiful the land was. Come summer, Paul had promised to take her hiking and fishing, and she joked with Larry because he got queasy at the sight of a worm. When she'd finished, Caroline read the letter and realized her happiness shone through every word. Larry would have no more doubts.

After stuffing the five pages into an envelope, Caroline carried the letter to the supply store, which also served as the local post office.

“Good afternoon, Harry,” she greeted the proprietor, with a ready smile.

“Mrs. Trevor,” he returned formally. “Nice day, isn't it?”

“It's a beautiful day.” She handed him the letter. “It already looks like Christmas.” The snow was drifting slowly down, sparkling and pristine.

He nodded. “This all I can do for you?”

Caroline shrugged. “It is, unless you can sell me a pizza. I've had the craving for a thick, cheesy pizza all week.”

He chuckled and rubbed the side of his jaw. “Sorry. Can't help you there.”

“That's what I figured. Oh well.” With a cheery wave, she was gone.

Paul rounded the corner of the supply store just as Caroline disappeared. “Afternoon, Harry. Was that my wife?”

“Yup, you just missed her. She came to mail a letter.”

He glanced over at Caroline, but she was too far away for him to shout.

“Thick letter, too, now that I look at it. She might be needing an extra stamp. I'd best weigh it.”

Paul nodded, hardly hearing the man. “She's fond of those aunts of hers.”

“Her aunt has a funny name, then. Larry Atkins.”

The name sliced through Paul as effectively as a knife. He attempted to hide his shock and anger from Harry but wasn't sure he'd succeeded. Without bothering to buy what he'd come for, Paul left and went back to the pumping station. He tried reasoning with himself that it was only a letter, then he recalled all the times Caroline had walked letters over to Harry, preferring to deliver them herself, claiming she needed the exercise.

His anger increased when he remembered how she'd sat at the desk across from his own at the station and vowed to find a means of escaping him. Her voice had been filled with conviction and vengeance. In his foolishness, Paul had believed her feelings had changed. He certainly hadn't expected her to be so deceitful.

Other books

The Scent of Murder by Felicity Young
All Kinds of Tied Down by Mary Calmes
Jaxie's Menage by Jan Springer
Fit Month for Dying by M.T. Dohaney
Bed of Roses by Daisy Waugh
Thief of Dreams by John Yount
Striker Boy Kicks Out by Jonny Zucker