Mail-Order Bride

Mail-Order Bride
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

2016 Debbie Macomber Ebook Edition

Copyright © 1987 by Debbie Macomber

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Debbie Macomber Books, an imprint of Debbie Macomber, Inc.

Distributed by Penguin Random House LLC.

D
EBBIE
M
ACOMBER
B
OOKS
is a registered trademark of Debbie Macomber, Inc.

Originally published in paperback in the United States by Silhouette Books, New York, in 1987.

ebook ISBN 9781941824108

Cover design: Lynn Andreozzi

Cover photograph: Mallory Samson/Getty Images

debbiemacomber.com

v4.1

ep

“I'm so worried about dear Caroline,” Ethel Myers murmured thoughtfully, sipping tea from a dainty porcelain cup. Her fingers clutched a delicate lace-trimmed handkerchief, and when a droplet of moisture formed in the corner of her eye, she dabbed it gently. “Sister, I do believe the brew is stronger today.”

“Yes,” Mabel admitted. “But remember what Father said about the brew enhancing one's ability to solve problems.”

“And we must do something to help Caroline.”

Mabel shook her head sadly. “Perhaps if you and I had married suitable gentlemen all those years ago…”

“Oh yes, then maybe we'd know how to help that sweet, sweet child.” Ethel's faded blue eyes brightened momentarily. “You do remember that George Guettermann once asked for my hand.”

“As I recall, Mother was quite impressed with him.”

Ethel's shoulders sagged. “But Father was suspicious from the first.”

Mabel sighed heavily. “Mr. Guettermann did cut such a dashing figure.”

A wistful expression marked Ethel's fragile features. “If only he hadn't already been married.”

“The scoundrel!”

“We must learn to forgive him, Sister.”

Mabel nodded and lifted the steaming pot of brew. “I was thinking of Caroline's young man. Another cup, Sister?”

“Oh dear, should we?” Ethel's hand flew to her mouth to smother a loud hiccup, and she had the good grace to look embarrassed.

“We
must
find a way to help her.”

“Yes,” Ethel agreed as Mabel filled her cup to the bright gold rim. “Poor, poor Caroline.”

“There was something in his eyes.”

“George?”

“No, Sister. Caroline's young man.”

“Indeed, there was something about his eyes.” Ethel took another sip and lightly patted her chest at the strength of their father's special recipe. “Sister, the brew…”

“We must think!”

“Oh yes. Think. What can we do for dear Caroline?”

“If only her mother were alive.”

“Or grandmother.”

“Grandmother?”

“Her great-great-grandmother, perhaps.
She
would know what to do.” Ethel smiled. “Do you recall how she frowned on courting? Said it simply wasn't necessary.”

“Grandmother would. Asa Myers brought her to Seattle with the other mail-order brides. She and Grandfather knew each other less than twenty-four hours before they were married.”

“A courtship wasn't necessary and they were so happy.”

“Very happy and very compatible.”

“With seven children, they must have agreed quite nicely,” Ethel said and giggled delightedly.

“It's such a shame marriages aren't arranged these days,” Mabel said, taking another long sip of tea.

“If only we could find Caroline a husband.”

“But, Sister…” Mabel was doubtful. For more than fifty years they'd been unable to find husbands of their own. So how could they expect to come up with one for their beloved niece?

Ethel's hand shook as she lowered the cup to its saucer. “Sister, Sister! I do believe I have the solution.” Her voice quavered with excitement as she reached for the morning paper.

“Yes?”

“Our own Caroline will be a mail-order bride.”

Mabel frowned. “But things like that aren't done in this day and age.”

Ethel fumbled with the paper until she located the classified section. She folded back the unwieldy page and pointed to the personals column. “Here, read this.”

Mabel read the ad aloud, her voice trembling. “Wanted—Wife for thirty-two-year-old Alaskan male. Send picture. Transportation provided.” The advertisement included the name Paul Trevor and a box number.

“But, Sister, do we dare?” She eyed the typewriter—no computers for them!

“We must. Caroline is desperately unhappy.”

“And she did have the opportunity to select a husband of her own.”

“She chose poorly. The beast left her standing at the altar.”

“The scoundrel!”

“We mustn't tell her, of course.”

“Oh no, we can't let her know. Our Caroline would object strenuously.”

“Sister, I do believe the brew has helped.”

“Indeed! Some more?”

Ethel raised her cup and her older sister automatically refilled it. A smile of satisfaction lifted the edges of her mouth. “Father's recipe was most beneficial.”

“It always is, Sister.”

“Oh yes. Yes, indeed.”

Caroline Myers waited at a Starbucks in the Seattle-Tacoma airport, accompanied by her great-aunts. She could hardly believe she would soon depart the state of Washington for unknown adventures in Alaska.

“Do you have everything, dear?” Mabel asked her for the third time.

“Aunt Ethel, Aunt Mabel, please—I can't allow you to do this.”

“Nonsense,” Ethel said briskly. “This vacation is our gift to you.”

“But Alaska in October?”

“It's lovely, dear heart. I promise.”

“Yes, lovely,” Ethel agreed, trying to hide a smile. “And we have the nicest surprise waiting for you.”

Caroline stared suspiciously at her great-aunts. Something that could only be mischief danced in their sparkling blue eyes. At seventy-nine and eighty, they were her only living relatives in Seattle, and she loved them dearly. Despite their age, she'd always called them simply
Aunt.

“But this trip is too much,” she said.

“Nonsense.”

“Hurry, dear. Go and check in or you'll miss your plane.”

“One question.”

Ethel and Mabel exchanged fleeting glances. “Yes?”

“Why the blood tests? I didn't know anything like that was necessary for travel within the United States.”

Mabel paused to clear her throat, casting her eyes wildly about the terminal. “It's a new law.”

“A gubernatorial decision, I…I believe,” Ethel stammered.

“It's such a pity,” Mabel said, changing the subject. “We wanted to give you a thermos with Father's special tea to sustain you during the flight, but all these rules…” She shook her head.

“It's probably just as well,” Caroline said, doing her utmost to swallow a chuckle. She'd been eighteen when she'd first discovered the potency of her great-grandfather's special recipe.

“We put some sandwiches in that bag, though.” Ethel pointed at the duffel the aunts had packed for her. “Plus tea for when you land. And a little something extra.”

Caroline smiled her thanks, feeling a bit foolish about dragging food, not to mention the “tea,” all the way to Alaska. She wondered if the duffel with its special wares would survive the baggage handlers.

“Do write. And call,” Mabel said anxiously.

“Of course. I'll send postcards.” Caroline kissed both aunts on the cheek and hugged them gently. Ethel sniffled, and Mabel cast her a look of sisterly displeasure. Caroline grinned. Her two great-aunts had been a constant delight all her life. They were charming, loving, and thoroughly enchanting. They'd done everything they could to cheer her after Larry's defection. The sudden memory of the man she'd loved with such intensity produced a fresh wave of pain that threatened to wash away the pleasure of this moment.

Ethel sniffled again. “We shall miss you dreadfully,” she announced, glaring at her sister.

Caroline threw back her head and laughed aloud. “I'm only going to be gone a week.” Ethel's and Mabel's eyes avoided hers, and Caroline wondered what little game they were playing.

“But a week seems so long.”

“You have your ticket?” Mabel asked hurriedly.

“Right here.” Caroline patted the side of her purse.

“Remember, a nice young man will be meeting you in Fairbanks.”

Caroline nodded. Her aunts had gone over the details of this vacation a minimum of fifty times. “And he's taking me to—”

“Gold River,” the great-aunts chimed in, bobbing their heads in unison.

“There I'll be met by—”

“Paul Trevor.” Ethel and Mabel shared a silly grin.

“Right, Paul Trevor.” Caroline studied her aunts surreptitiously. If she didn't know better, she'd think they had something up their sleeves. For days, the two of them had been acting like giddy teenagers, whispering and giggling. Caroline had objected to this vacation from the beginning; Alaska in early October wasn't exactly her first choice. She wouldn't have argued nearly as much had they suggested Hawaii, but her aunts had been so insistent on Alaska that Caroline had finally agreed. This was their gift to her in an effort to heal a broken heart, and she wasn't about to ruin it by being stubborn. She couldn't bear to inform them that it would take a whole lot more than a trip north for her heart to mend.

Caroline hugged her aunts and secured her purse strap over her shoulder, then got up to join the line at the airline counter.

“Do be happy, dear,” Ethel said tearfully, pressing her frilly lace handkerchief under her nose.

Mabel's voice seemed strained as she echoed her sister's words and clasped Caroline's free hand. “Happiness, child. Much, much happiness.”

Shaking her head at their strange behavior, Caroline checked in, went through security, and dropped off her bags. She got to the departure lounge without much time to spare. Ten minutes later, she entered the long, narrow jetway that led to the Boeing 767. The flight attendant directed her to the business section and, again, Caroline had to wonder how her aunts could possibly afford this trip.

Ethel and Mabel left the airport pleased with themselves, yet already missing their beloved niece.

“It's fate, Sister,” Mabel said softly.

“Oh indeed. Paul Trevor chose her over all those other women.”

“He sounds like such a good man.”

“And so handsome.”

“Only he wrote that he has a beard now. Does Caroline like men with beards?”

Ethel shrugged. “I really couldn't say.”

“She'll grow to love him.”

“Oh yes. Given time, she'll be very happy with Paul.”

“Perhaps she'll be as compatible with him as Grandmother was with Grandfather.”

“Seven children. Oh Sister!” Ethel brought her gloved hands to her rosy cheeks.

Doubts vanished and the two exchanged brilliant smiles.

“We did our best for her,” Mabel said happily. “Her mother would've been proud.”

“Her great-great-grandmother, too,” Ethel said, and as they giggled with pure delight, several onlookers cast curious glances in their direction.

Caroline slept for most of the night flight to Fairbanks. She was exhausted from a hectic week at work. As a nurse for Dr. Kenneth James, an internist, she often put in long days. Dr. James gave her the week off without complaint, and then, on Friday afternoon, shook her hand and wished her much happiness. Now that she thought about it, Caroline found his words puzzling. Vacations were about fun. Happiness came from having a satisfactory relationship. Like hers and Larry's…His name drifted into her mind with such ease that Caroline shook her head in an effort to dismiss it.

Straightening in her seat, she opened her eyes. The cabin lights were dimmed, and the only other passenger in business class was asleep. The two attendants were drinking coffee, but when one of them noticed that Caroline was awake, she immediately approached her.

“You missed the meal. We have some left if you'd like to purchase one.”

Caroline shook her head. “No thanks.”

The tall brunette responded with a smile and a slight nod and returned to her coffee. Caroline watched as she walked away. Maybe this flight attendant was the type of woman her ex-fiancé should marry, she mused. She'd known from the beginning how completely dissimilar Larry's and her tastes were. Larry liked late, late nights and breakfast in bed, while she was a morning person, eager to begin each new day. Caroline enjoyed the outdoor life—hiking, camping, boating. Larry's idea of roughing it was doing without valet service. She liked cornflakes with chocolate syrup poured over the top and spaghetti for breakfast. Larry preferred formal dinners with nothing more exotic than meat and potatoes. And those were just the superficial differences between them. But they'd loved each other enough to believe they could compromise.
She
had loved
him,
Caroline corrected herself. At the last minute, Larry had buckled under his doubts and had sent his witless brother to contact her an hour before the wedding ceremony. Once again, humiliation engulfed her.

For the first week, Caroline had hidden from the world. Her two beloved aunts had hovered over her constantly, insisting that she eat and sleep, taking her temperature in case she developed what they called the ague. Caroline assumed it must be some kind of fever and allowed them to fret over her. At the time, it would've taken more energy to assure them she was fine than to submit to their tender ministrations.

A month passed and Caroline gradually worked her way out of the heavy depression that had hung over her like a thundercloud. She smiled and laughed, but suspected that her aunts were unconvinced. Every time she was with them, they stuck a thermometer under her tongue and shook their gray heads with worried frowns.

Larry called her only once to stammer his regrets and to apologize repeatedly. If she hadn't been so much in love with him, she might've been able to accept that he'd probably done them both a favor. Now there were whole hours when she didn't think about him, or hunger for information about him, or long to be held in his arms. Still, the thought of him with another woman was almost more than Caroline could tolerate. In time, however, she would learn to accept that as well.

The disaster with Larry had taught her that she possessed a far stronger constitution than she'd ever believed. She'd been able to hold her head high and return to work a week after the aborted wedding. It hadn't been easy, but she'd done it with a calm maturity that impressed even her. She was going to come out of this a much wiser, more discerning woman. Someday there'd be a man who would love her enough to appreciate her sometimes unconventional ways. When they fell in love, she'd think about marriage again. But not for a long time, Caroline decided—not for a very long time.

As the plane descended into Fairbanks, Caroline gathered her jacket and her purse, preparing to disembark. It was still dark, but dawn was starting to streak the sky. Just as her aunts had promised, there was someone waiting for her at the airport. She had no sooner walked off the plane than a middle-aged man with bushy eyebrows and a walrus mustache held up a piece of cardboard with her name printed across it in bold letters.

“Hello, I'm Caroline Myers,” she told him, shifting her purse from one hand to the other.

“Welcome to Alaska,” he said with a wide grin and offered his hand. “Name's John Morrison.”

Caroline shook it. She liked him immediately. “Thank you, John.”

The man continued to stare at her and rubbed the side of his square jaw. Slowly, he shook his head and a sly grin raised the edges of his mouth. “Paul did all right for himself,” he mumbled.

“Pardon?”

“Ah, nothing,” John responded, shaking his head again. “I'm just surprised is all. I didn't expect him to come up with anyone half as attractive as you. I don't suppose you have a friend?”

Caroline hadn't the faintest idea what this burly bush pilot was getting at, or why he'd be curious about her friends. Surely he'd flown more than one woman into the Alaskan interior. She was like any other tourist visiting Alaska for a one-week stay. She planned to get plenty of rest and relaxation on the direct orders of her aunts. In addition, she hoped to take invigorating walks and explore the magic of the tundra. Her aunts had mentioned Paul Trevor's name on several occasions, and Caroline assumed they'd hired him as her guide. She wouldn't mind having someone show her the countryside. There was so much to see and do, and Caroline was ready for it all.

Once John had collected her suitcase, plus the duffel bag her aunts had so determinedly packed, he escorted Caroline to the single-engine Cessna and helped her climb aboard.

“Won't be long now,” he said, putting on his headset and flipping several switches. As he zipped up his fur-lined coat, he glanced in her direction with a frown. Then the control tower issued instructions and John turned his attention to the radio. Once on the runway, the plane accelerated and was soon aiming for the dawn sky in a burst of power that had Caroline clenching her hands. She was accustomed to flying, but not in anything quite this small. In comparison to the wide-bodied jet, this Cessna seemed tiny and fragile.

“You might want to look in some of those boxes back there.” He jerked his head toward the large pile of sacks and cardboard boxes resting next to her suitcase at the rear of the plane.

“Uh, what should I be looking for?”

“A coat. It's going to get damn cold up here. That little jacket's never gonna be warm enough.”

“Okay.” Caroline unfastened the seat belt and turned around to bend over the back of her seat. She sorted through the sacks and found a variety of long underwear and flannel shirts.

“Paul's right about you needing this. I hope the boots fit. I got the best available.”

“Boots?”

“Lady, trust me. You're going to need them.”

“I imagine they were expensive.” She had her credit cards with her, but if Paul Trevor expected her to pick up the tab on a complete winter wardrobe, then he had another thing coming.

Caroline pulled out a thick coat, but it was so bulky that she placed it over her knees. She took off her jacket and slipped her arms into a cozy flannel shirt. She'd put on the coat when they landed.

“What did you bring with you?” John asked, eyeing the duffel bag at Caroline's feet.

She rolled her eyes. “My aunts sent along some food.”

John chuckled.

Now that she'd mentioned it, Caroline discovered she was hungry. It'd been hours since she'd last eaten, and her stomach growled as she opened the bag to find half a dozen thick sandwiches and the promised thermos. There was also a brightly wrapped gift. Somewhat surprised, Caroline removed the package and tore off the bright paper and ribbon. The sheer negligee with the neckline and sleeves trimmed in faux fur baffled her even more.