Mail-Order Bride Page 10

  “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.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Paul said aloud. “No woman is that good an actress.”

  All the talk of a child. He groaned. She knew his greatest weakness. He sat at his desk and slumped forward, burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t condemn her on such flimsy evidence, but he couldn’t trust her, either. She’d taught him that once—when she’d walked out on him with Burt Manners—but it seemed he was a slow learner.

  By the time Paul arrived home that evening, he was, to all appearances, outwardly calm.

  Caroline whirled around when he entered the cabin. “Guess what I’m making for dinner.” Her smile was brighter than the sun had been all day.

  “What’s that, love?”

  “Pizza.”

  “Pizza?”

  “Well, a close facsimile. I didn’t have a round pan, so I’m using a square one. And I didn’t want to make bread dough, so I’m making do with biscuit batter. And last, but not least, we didn’t have any sausage, so I’m using ground caribou.”

  “A caribou pizza?”

  “How does that sound?”

  “Like we’ll be eating scrambled eggs later.”

  “Oh ye of little faith.”

  Paul laughed shortly; she didn’t know the half of it.

  Dinner was only partially successful. To her credit, the caribou pizza wasn’t bad. He managed to eat a piece and praised her ingenuity.

  “What’s for dinner tomorrow night? Moose tacos?”

  She laughed and promised him fried chicken.

  While Caroline did the dishes, she watched Paul. He sat in the recliner with the paper resting on his lap as he stared into space. His face was so intent that she wondered what could be troubling him.

  “Paul.”

  He shook himself from his reverie.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No. I was just thinking.”

  “About what? You looked so pensive.”

  “Life.” His grin was wry.

  “Life?”

  “It’s taken an unexpected turn for us, hasn’t it?” He eyed her carefully, hoping to read her heart and recognize the truth. He saw the love and devotion shining from her eyes—and didn’t know what to believe.

  “Tanana let me watch Carl for her this afternoon,” she announced, smiling. “He’s growing so fast.”

  “You love that baby, don’t you?”

  “As much as if he were our own.”

  Tenderness wrapped its way around his heart, suffocating his doubts. He loved Caroline more than life itself. If she was playing him for a fool, then he was the happiest idiot alive. He planned to hold on to that contentment, hug it close and treasure every
minute she was with him for as long as it lasted. She might dream of her precious Larry, she might even write the bastard, but it was in the curve of his arm that she slept. It was his body that filled hers and gave her pleasure. It was his name she now had and later, God willing, it would be his children she bore.

  When they made love that night, it was as if a storm of passion had overtaken them. As if electricity arced between them, the current more powerful than lightning. Each caress became a fire fueled by their love.

  Afterward, Caroline lay limp and drowsy in her husband’s arms. Her cheeks were bright with the blush of pleasure, her breath uneven. Paul closed his eyes, wondering how he could ever have doubted her. He buried his face in her hair, savoring the fragrance, and held her against him until her breathing grew even and regular.

  Caroline wasn’t sure what woke her. One minute she was asleep and the next awake. It took her a moment to realize Paul wasn’t asleep, either.

  “Paul, what’s wrong?”

  “Not a thing, love.”

  She slipped her hand over his ribs and kissed his throat. He’d been so quiet this evening, and their lovemaking had been a desperate act of passion. Paul wasn’t himself, and Caroline wondered what had happened. “I’ve failed you in some way, haven’t I?”

  He hesitated. “No, love, I fear I may have failed you.”

  “Paul, no. I’m happy, truly happy.”

  “Do you miss Seattle?”

  “I miss my aunts,” she admitted. “I wish you could meet them. And now and then I think about my friends, but there’s nothing for me in Seattle now that I’m with you.”

  “I love you, Caroline.”

  She smiled and kissed the side of his mouth. He’d shown her his love in a hundred ways, but he’d never said the words. “I know.”

  “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” His grip on her tightened, and Caroline jerked away from him with a gasp.

  “Paul, what’s gotten into you?”

  He held himself rigid and didn’t speak for an interminable moment. “I told you I loved you and I know you were smiling.”

  “I…was happy.” She lay on her stomach, her hands beneath her.

  Another long minute passed. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  She nodded and rolled away from him. Their happiness was shattering right before her eyes and she was powerless to stop it.

  “Caroline,” he said at last, reaching for her, “I talked to Harry after you were in the store today. I saw the letter you’d written to Larry Atkins.”

  “It’s obvious you didn’t read it.”

  “Why?”

  “If you had, your reaction would be altogether different.”

  “Have you written him in the past?” Paul hated his jealousy. All day he’d been brooding, furious with himself and unreasonable with Caroline. If love did this to a man, he wanted no part of it, and yet he wouldn’t, couldn’t, give her up.

  “This is my first letter to him.”

  “Why did you feel it was necessary to contact him now?”

  “To thank him.”

  “What?”

  “It’s true. You mean this is what’s been bothering you?”

  He didn’t answer, ashamed of his behavior.

  “Why didn’t you ask me earlier? I would’ve told you all about it. I wrote Larry to let him know he’d done me a gigantic favor by standing me up at the altar.”

  “You told him that?”

  “Not exactly in those words, but basically that’s what I said.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were writing him?”

  Caroline expelled her breath on a nervous sigh. “To be truthful, I didn’t think about it. My mistake. Are you always going to be this irrational?”

  “When it comes to my wife contacting another guy, I guess I am.”

  “It isn’t the way you’re making it sound.”

  “I have only your word for that.”

  Caroline fumed, feeling insulted and angry, but rather than argue, she turned her back on him. “Good night, Paul,” she grumbled. It wouldn’t help matters to talk to him now. In the morning things would be better.

  For two days they put the incident behind them. Their happiness was too complete to be destroyed over a silly letter, and they each seemed to realize it. On the third day, Paul got home two hours before his usual time.

  “You’re home early.” She looked up from writing Christmas cards, delighted to see her husband.

  He sat at the table across from her. “I’ve got to fly into Fairbanks for a few days.”

  “Oh Paul. Fairbanks? I can hardly wait! The first thing I’m going to do is order a real sausage pizza with extra cheese and then I’m going to shop for twelve hours nonstop. You have no idea how much I want to buy Tanana and the baby something special for Christmas. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  “Because—”

  “And you know what else I’m going to do?” She answered her own question before he had the chance, her voice animated and high-pitched. “I’m going to soak in a hot bubble bath and watch television and then I’m—”

  “Caroline,” he broke in gruffly, his gaze avoiding hers. “This is a business trip. I hadn’t planned to bring you along.”

  Chapter 8

  It took a minute for the words to sink in. “You’re not taking me with you?” With deliberate patience, Caroline set down the pen and pushed the Christmas cards aside. “Why?”

  Paul refused to meet her probing gaze. “I’ve already explained that it’s a business trip.”

  “That’s not the reason and you know it.” She’d thought they’d come so far, but the only one who’d moved had been her. She’d walked into his arms and been so blinded by her love she hadn’t even seen the chains that bound her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Like hell!”

  “I go to Fairbanks every other month or so…”

  “Every other month?”

  “You can come with me another time.”

  “I want to go now.”

  “No!”

  “Why not?” She was growing more furious by the moment.

  “Because—”

  “Because you saw that stupid letter to Larry and you’re convinced I’ve made arrangements to escape. To catch a plane out of Fairbanks.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” But her accusation was so close to the truth that Paul’s heart pounded hard against his ribs.

  Caroline’s smile was sarcastic. “Since I’m your prisoner, after all, you might as well lock me in a cell.”

  “You’re my wife!”

  “I’m the woman who was forced to stay married to you. What we have isn’t a marriage!” She saw him open his mouth to contradict her, then close it again. “It takes more than a piece of paper.”

  “Caroline, you’re making too much of this.”

  “Yes, master,” she said, gazing straight ahead, refusing to look at him. “Whatever you say, master.” She bent low in a mocking bow, folding her hands in front of her.

  “Caroline, stop that.”

  “Anything you say, master.” He wanted a slave? Fine! She’d give him one. She’d speak only when spoken to, accede to his every wish, smother him with servitude.

  Her unflagging calmness shocked her. It was as though the sun had come out, revealing all the glaring imperfections of their relationship. She stared at the flaws, saddened and appalled. She’d come to love Paul and Alaska. She’d found happiness with him—only to discover it was badly marred. She was no better off now than she’d been that first week, when he’d turned her into his shadow. The only difference was that she’d grown more comfortable in her cell.

  Another thought came to her and she forgot her resolve not to speak. “How…How do I know you don’t have a lover in Fairbanks?”

  Paul stood, pushing back the kitchen chair so suddenly it threatened to topple. “That’s crazy! I can’t believe you’d even think such
a thing!”

  “Why? I’ve lived with you for these past two months, so I’m well aware of your appetite for—”

  “The only lover I have is you!” He shouted the words and shoved his hands inside his pants pockets.

  “If you can’t trust me, there’s nothing that says I have to trust you.” She didn’t think for a minute that Paul did have another woman, but she wanted him to sample a taste of her own frustration. “The fact that you don’t want me along speaks for itself. It’s obvious you’re hiding something from me.” She arched her brows speculatively. “Another woman, no doubt.”

  Paul’s mouth was tight. “That thought is unworthy of you.”

  “What else am I supposed to believe?”

  His expression darkened. “I’m leaving for Fairbanks and you’re staying here and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  “Yes, master.” She bowed in a sweeping, exaggerated manner.

  He sighed loudly. “Are we back to that?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked across the cabin and reached for her parka and boots. “I’m going to see Tanana unless my master demands that I remain here.”

  “Caroline.” He stopped her just before she opened the door, but she didn’t turn around and Paul knew she was fighting back tears. He felt himself go weak; he loved her and wished he could take away the pain, but it was too late to change his plans. “Never mind,” he said gruffly.

  Caroline left, closing the door behind her.

  —

  Paul paced the room, his emotions in conflict. Caroline was right; she’d given him everything—her love, her heart, her trust…And yet he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more.

  The cold wind cut through Caroline’s jacket as she trudged the frozen pathway that led to the Eagleclaws’ cabin. She needed to get away and think. Paul had hurt her; he’d never guess the extent to which his doubts and his exclusion had pained her sensitive heart.