Mail-Order Bride (9 page)

Alarm turned her blood cold. “He has a woman in Fairbanks?”

Walter chuckled and shook his head. “He advertised for a bride because he didn't have time to properly date someone and build a relationship by the usual means. I also think he was afraid the same thing would happen to him a second time and she'd change her mind.”

No wonder he'd been so insistent that they stay married. “Why is a child so important to Paul?”

“I suppose because he didn't have a family when he was growing up.”

This was another shock to Caroline. Paul had spoken only briefly about his background. He'd been raised somewhere in Texas. As far as she knew, he hadn't contacted his parents about their marriage and now that she considered it, Paul seemed to change the subject whenever she asked about his childhood.

The faded eyes brightened. “I'm not telling you these things to stir up trouble.” The old man paused. “I can see that most of what I've said has been a shock. Paul might not appreciate my loose tongue, but I felt you should know that he's gone through some hard times. You've been good for him.”

“Our relationship is still on rocky ground.”

“I can see that. I was surprised he didn't take you to Fairbanks, and when I mentioned it, he nearly bit my head off.”

“You were right when you guessed that I love him.”

“He feels the same way. He'd move heaven and earth to see that you were happy. He—”

An abrupt knock sounded, drawing their attention to the front door. Thomas Eagleclaw stepped in without waiting for an invitation. His eyes were frightened. “Mrs. Paul, please come.”

“What is it?”

“Tanana and the baby are sick.”

As Walter and Thomas spoke in low voices, Caroline stood and reached for her coat. Momentarily, her gaze collided with Walter's. The older man pulled on his parka as well, and followed her to the Eagleclaws' cabin. Even before they arrived at the small log structure, Caroline had a premonition of disaster.

The baby lay in his crib, hardly moving. He stared at her with wide eyes, and when Caroline felt his skin, he was burning up with fever. “How long has he been like this?”

“Apparently Tanana's been ill, too,” Walter answered for the young man.

“Why didn't you let me know?” Caroline asked Thomas.

“Tanana probably told him not to. She didn't want to trouble you,” Walter whispered, standing at Caroline's side.

“But Carl's very sick.”

“Mary Finefeather has a fever,” Thomas announced.

“Mary, too?”

Caroline turned to Walter. “I'll do what I can here and meet you at Mary's. We may need to get help.”

Walter nodded and left.

Tanana's face felt hot, and the girl whimpered softly when Caroline tried to talk to her.

The young husband stood stiffly by the bedside. “She's much worse this morning.”

“Oh Thomas, I wish you'd come for me,” Caroline said, more sharply than she intended.

The young man looked guiltily at the floor.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged, still not looking at her.

Caroline pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and shook her head. “Get into bed and I'll be back when I can.”

Although she tried to stay calm, her heart was racing. She hurried from the Eagleclaws' to Mary's. Once there, Caroline discovered that the older woman's symptoms were similar to Tanana's and the baby's.

“Walter, contact the Public Health Department and see if they can fly in some help. I don't know what we've got here, but I don't like the looks of it.”

Walter's eyes met hers. “In the winter of 1979 we lost twelve to the fever.”

“We're not going to lose anyone this time. Now hurry!”

After his meeting with the oil company engineers, Paul paused on the sidewalk outside the jewelry store to study the diamond rings on display. It'd never occurred to him to ask Caroline if she wanted a diamond. She wore the simple gold band he'd given her and hadn't asked for anything more. Now he wondered if she was disappointed with the simplicity of the ring.

He thought about the gifts he'd already purchased and realized he'd probably need to buy another suitcase to haul them all back to Gold River. He smiled at the thought. He'd bought her everything she'd ever mentioned wanting and, in addition, purchased gifts for Tanana and the baby, knowing Caroline had wanted to get them something special. Paul was trying to make up to her for excluding her from this trip. Never again would he leave her behind. He decided he'd buy her a ring and save it for Christmas. Everything else he'd give her when he got home.

Never had he been more anxious to return to Gold River.

The Public Health Department flew in a doctor and two nurses that same afternoon. The community meeting hall served as a makeshift hospital and the sickest were brought there. Tanana, the baby, and Mary Finefeather had been the first to become seriously ill. Others soon followed. Within two days, Caroline and the medical staff were tending twenty-five patients. The following day it was thirty, then thirty-five.

“How long has it been since you've slept?” Dr. Mather asked Caroline on the third day.

Her smile was weak. “I forget.”

“That's what I thought. Go get some rest, and that's an order.”

She shook her head. She couldn't leave when so many were sick and more arrived every hour. The other staff members had rested intermittently. “I'm fine.”

“If you don't do as I say, you'll be sick next.”

“I'm not leaving.”

“Stubborn woman.” But his eyes spoke of admiration.

Later that day, Walter brought her something to eat and forced her to sit down. “I think I should contact Paul.”

“Don't.” She placed her hand on his forearm and silently pleaded with him. “He'd only worry.”

“He should worry. You're working yourself into an early grave.”

“I'm totally healthy.”

“You won't be if you go on like this.”

Walter gave her one of his looks and Caroline sighed. “All right, we'll compromise. I'll go lie down in a few minutes, but I'll have someone wake me after an hour.”

Mary Finefeather died early the next morning. Caroline stood at Dr. Mather's side as he pulled the sheet over the woman's face, relaxed now in death. Tears burned Caroline's eyes, but she dared not let them flow. So many needed her; she had to be strong.

“Are you doing okay?” the doctor asked.

“I think so,” Caroline answered in a strangled voice. “What about the baby?” She'd held Carl for most of the night. He was so weak, too weak even to cry. He'd lain limp in her arms, barely moving.

The doctor hesitated. “It doesn't look good. If he lasts through the day, then his chances will improve.”

The floor pitched beneath her feet. She'd known it herself but had been afraid to admit it. “And his mother?”

“She's young and strong. She should make it.”

“Anyone else?”

“Two others look serious.”

Caroline bit the inside of her cheek and followed him to the next bed.

At the end of the fourth day, his meetings finished and his shopping done, Paul returned to the hotel, packed his bags, and checked out. He felt as anxious as a kid awaiting the end of school. He was going home to Gold River, home to Caroline. After a short trip to a pizza parlor, the taxi delivered him to the airport. If Burt Manners was late, Paul swore he'd have his hide.

The pilot was waiting for Paul at the designated area inside the terminal. Burt rose to his feet as Paul approached.

“I've got bad news for you,” he said, frowning as he eyed the pizza box.

“What's that?”

“We aren't going to be able to fly into Gold River.”

“Why not?” Frustration made Paul tighten his grip around the handle of his bag.

“A whiteout.”

“Damn!” Paul expelled the word viciously. A whiteout was dangerous enough to put the finest, most experienced pilot on edge. Visibility plummeted to zero, and flying was impossible. The condition could last for days.

“There's nothing more you can do.” Dr. Mather spoke gently to Caroline and attempted to remove the lifeless four-year-old child from her arms.

“No, please,” she whispered, bringing the still body closer to her own. “Let me hold her for a few more minutes. I…I just want to say good-bye.”

The doctor stepped aside and waited.

Caroline brushed the hair from the sweet face and kissed the smooth brow, rocking her to and fro, singing the little girl a lullaby she'd never hear. Anna was dead and Caroline was sure Carl was next. Tears rained unchecked down her cheeks. She took a moment to compose herself, then handed the child to the doctor. “I'll tell her mother.”

A week after Paul had left Gold River, he returned. Walter was at the airstrip waiting for him when the plane taxied to a standstill. One look at the other man's troubled frown and sad eyes, and Paul knew something was terribly wrong.

“What is it?”

“The fever came. Five are dead.”

Fear closed Paul's throat. “Caroline?”

“She's been working for days without sleep. Thank God you're back.”

“Take me to her.”

By the time Paul reached the meeting hall, his heart was pounding. Rarely had he moved more quickly. If anything happened to Caroline, he'd blame himself. He'd left her, abandoned her to some unspeakable fate. He stopped in the doorway, appalled at the scene. Stretchers littered the floor, children crying, staff moving from one patient to another.

It took him a moment to find Caroline. She was bent over an old woman, lifting the weary head and helping her sip liquid through a straw. Caroline looked frail, and when she straightened, she staggered and nearly fell backward.

Paul was at her side instantly. She turned and looked at him as though he were a stranger.

“I'm getting you out of here,” Paul said, furious that she'd worked herself into this condition and no one had stopped her.

“No, please,” she said in a voice so weak it quavered. “I'm fine.” With that, she promptly fainted.

Paul caught her before she hit the floor.

Caroline struggled to open her eyes. The lids felt incredibly heavy. She discovered Paul sleeping awkwardly in a kitchen chair by her bed. She realized he must have brought her home. He was slouched so that his head rested against the back. One arm hugged his ribs and the other hung loosely at his side. Caroline blinked. Paul looked terrible; his clothes were wrinkled, his shirt pulled out from the waistband and half-unbuttoned.

“Paul?” she whispered, having difficulty finding her voice. She forced herself to swallow. When Paul didn't respond, Caroline raised her hand and tugged at his shirttail.

His eyes flew open and he bolted upright. “Caroline? You're awake!” He rose to his feet and shook the unkempt hair from his face, staring down at her. “How do you feel?”

The past week suddenly returned to haunt her. She thought of Mary Finefeather and Anna, the bubbly four-year-old. An overwhelming sadness at the loss of her friends brought stinging tears to her eyes.

“Carl?” She managed to squeeze the name of the baby from her throat.

“He's improving and so is Tanana.”

“Good.” Caroline closed her eyes, because sleep was preferable to the memories.

When she awakened again, Paul was sitting in the chair beside their bed. Only this time his elbows were resting on his knees, his face buried in his hands. She must have made a sound because he slowly lifted his head.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked.

“Almost twenty-four hours.”

She arched her eyebrows in surprise. “Did I catch the fever?”

“The doctor said it was exhaustion.” Paul stood and poured a glass of water and supported her so she could sip from it. When she'd finished, he lowered her back to the bed.

Caroline turned her face away so she wouldn't have to watch his expression. “I want to go home.”

“Caroline, love, you are home.”

Her eyes drifted shut. She hadn't thought it would be easy.

“Caroline, I know you're upset, but you'll feel different later. I promise you will.”

Despite her resolve not to cry, tears coursed down her cheeks. “I hate Alaska. I want to go where death doesn't…doesn't come with the dark, where I can hear children laugh and smell flowers again.” People had died here—people she'd loved, people she'd come to care about. Friends. Children. Babies. The marriage she'd worked so hard to build wasn't a real one. The only thing that held it together was Paul's indomitable pride—he wasn't going to let her go after he'd already lost one woman.

“You don't know what you're saying,” he told her, discounting her words as he reached for her hand.

“I want to go home. To Seattle.”

He released her hand and she heard him stalk to the other side of the room. “I'll fix you something to eat.”

Alone now, Caroline pushed back the covers, then carefully sat up. The room spun and teetered, but she gripped the headboard and gradually everything righted itself.

Suddenly she felt terribly hungry. When Paul returned, carrying a tray of tea, toast, and scrambled eggs, she didn't even consider refusing it.

He piled her pillows against the headboard and set the tray on her lap. When it looked as though he meant to feed her, Caroline stopped him with a gesture.

“I can do it.”

He nodded and sat back in the chair. “Walter said you nearly killed yourself. You wouldn't leave or rest or eat. Why did you push yourself like that, love?” He paused and watched her lift the fork to her mouth in a deliberate movement. “He told me about little Anna dying in your arms.”

Caroline chewed slowly, but not by choice; even eating required energy. She didn't want to talk about Anna, the fever, or anything else. She didn't answer Paul's questions because she couldn't explain to him something she didn't fully understand herself. In some incomprehensible way, she felt responsible for the people in Gold River. They were her friends, her family, and she'd let them down.

“I can't tell you how bad I feel that I left you here to deal with—”

“Why didn't you mention her?”

Paul gave her an odd look. “Mention who?”

She glared at him. “You
know
who.”

“Don't tell me we're going through this again. Should I duck to avoid the salt and pepper shakers?” Mockingly he held up his hands, his eyes twinkling.

For a moment, Caroline was furious enough to hurl something at him, but that required more energy than she had.

“Caroline, love…”

“I'm not your love,” she said heatedly.

Paul chuckled. “You can't honestly mean that after the last few weeks.”

“Correction,” she said bitterly. “I'm not your
first
love.”

Paul went still and his eyes narrowed. “All right, what did you find?”

“Find?” Caroline discovered she was shaking. “Find? Do you mean to tell me you've got…memorabilia stored in this cabin from that…that other woman?”

“Caroline, settle down…”

“Oh-h-h.” It took all her restraint not to fling a leftover piece of toast at him. He must have noticed the temptation because he quickly took the tray from her lap and returned it to the kitchen.

While he was gone, Caroline lay back down and tried to compose her thoughts. He'd loved another woman so much that it had taken him years to commit himself to a new relationship. Caroline was simply filling some other woman's place in his life. What bothered her most was that he'd never told her about this previous lover. The more she learned, the more imperative it became to leave.

He entered the bedroom again, his steps hesitant. He'd slipped the tips of his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “This isn't the time to talk about Diane. When you're feeling better, I'll tell you everything you want to know.”

“Diane,” Caroline repeated, vowing to hate every woman with that name. An eerie calm came over her as she raised her eyes to meet Paul's. “This…Diane didn't happen to be blond, blue-eyed, and about five-five, did she?”

Paul looked stunned. “You knew her?”

“You idiot, that's me!” She grabbed a pillow and heaved it at him with all her strength. She was so weak it didn't even make it to the end of the bed.

Paul shook his head. “Love, listen, I know what this sounds like.”

“Get out!”

“Caroline…”

“I'm sure the doctor told you I should remain calm. The very sight of you boils my blood, so kindly leave before there's cardiovascular damage!”

He advanced toward her and Caroline scrambled to her knees and reached for the glass of water. “You take one more step and you'll be wearing this!”

Exasperated, Paul swore under his breath. “How you could be so utterly unreasonable is beyond me.”

“Unreasonable!” She lifted the tumbler and brought back her arm, making the threat more real. That persuaded him to exit the room. Once he'd gone, Caroline curled up in a tight ball, shaking with fury. Not only hadn't he told her about Diane, but he'd chosen
her
because she obviously resembled the other woman. He'd told her often enough that as soon as he'd seen her picture, he'd known. Sure he'd known! She was a duplicate of the woman he'd once loved…and probably still did.

Caroline escaped into a deep, blissful slumber. When she awakened, she felt stronger, and, although she was a bit shaky on her feet, she managed to dress and pull the suitcase from beneath the bed. Her hands trembled as she neatly folded and packed each garment.

“What are you doing?” Paul asked from behind her.

Caroline stiffened. “What I should've done weeks ago. Leaving Gold River. Leaving Alaska. Leaving you.”

He didn't say anything for a long, tense moment. “I realize things are a bit unsettled between us,” he finally muttered, “but we'll work it out.”

“Unsettled. You call this
unsettled
? Well, I've got news for you, Paul Trevor. Things are more than just unsettled. I want out. O-U-T. Out!”

“I won't agree to a divorce.”

“Fine, we'll stay married if that's what you want. We'll have the ideal marriage—I'll be in Seattle and you can live here. No more arguing. No more disagreements. No more Scrabble.” Frantically, she stacked her sweaters in the open suitcase. “Believe me, after this experience I have no desire to involve myself with another man ever again.”

“Caroline—”

“I'll tell you one thing I'm grateful for, though,” she said, interrupting him. “You taught me a lot about myself. Here I was, playing Clara Barton to an entire town as if I were some heroine, dispensing medical knowledge and goodwill. But…but people
died.
”

“Caroline—”

“I even fooled myself into thinking you and I could make a go of this marriage. I thought,
Paul Trevor's a good man. Better than most. Fair. Kind. Tender.
I'll admit the events leading up to our marriage were bizarre, to say the least, but I was ready to stick it out and make the best of the situation. Things could've been worse—I could've married Larry.” She laughed without amusement.

His hands settled on her shoulders and he attempted to turn her around, but Caroline wouldn't let him. “Please don't touch me.” His touch was warm and gentle, and she couldn't resist him. Her eyes filled with tears, and Paul swam in and out of her vision as she backed away from him.

“I can't let you go, love,” he said softly.

“You don't have any choice.”

“Caroline, give it a week. You're distraught now, but in a few days, I promise you'll feel differently.”

“No,” she sobbed, jerking her head back and forth. “I can't stay another day. Please, I need to get out of here.”

“Let me hold you for just a minute.”

“No.” But she didn't fight him when he reached for her and brought her into the circle of his arms.

“I know, love,” he whispered. “I know.” He felt his heart catch at the anguish in her tormented expression. She hid her face in his shirt and wept, her shoulders shaking with such force that Paul braced his feet to hold her securely.

“Anna—she died in my arms,” she wailed.

“I know, love, I know.” His hand smoothed her hair in long, even strokes. Regret cut though him. He'd abandoned her to face the crisis alone, never dreaming anything like this would happen, thinking only of himself. He'd been so selfish. And despite the way she'd disparaged her own efforts, she
had
been a heroine.

When her tears were spent, Caroline raised her head and wiped her face. Paul's shirt bore evidence of her crying, and she guiltily tried to rub away the tear stains.

His hand stopped hers and he tenderly brought her palm to his mouth. He kissed it while his eyes held hers. She didn't want him to be so gentle; she wanted to hate him so she could leave and never look back.

“Please don't,” she pleaded weakly.

Paul released her hand.

“Caroline,” he said seriously. “You can't go.”

“Why not? Nothing binds us except a piece of paper.” He flinched at her words, and she regretted hurting him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Knotting her hands into fists, she raised her chin a fraction. “Did you love Diane, too?”

Paul's face seemed to lose its color.

“Did you?” she cried.

“Yes.”

Caroline pressed her advantage. “You let
her
go. You didn't go after her and force her to marry you and live on this frozen chunk of ice. All I'm asking for is the same consideration.”

“You don't know—”

“I do. I know everything I need to know about Alaska and Gold River. I know I can't live here anymore. I know I can't look you in the face and feel I'm your wife and you're my husband. I know I can't bear any more pain. Please, Paul, let me go home.” She was weeping again, almost uncontrollably.

Paul advanced a step toward her. “You'll feel better tomorrow,” he said again, then turned and left the room.

Caroline slumped on the bed and wept until her eyes burned and there were no more tears. Spent, she fell asleep, only to wake in a dark, shadowless room. Paul had placed a blanket over her shoulders. She sat up and brushed the unruly mass of hair from her face.

Instantly, Paul stood in the doorway. “You're awake.”

“Yes, master.”

He sighed, but said nothing more.

“I've fixed you something to eat. Would you like to come out here or would you rather I brought it in to you?”

“Whatever my master wishes.”

He clenched his fists. “It'll be on the table when you're ready.”

“Thank you, master.” Her words were spoken in a sarcastic monotone.

Patience,
Paul told himself. That was the key. Caroline had been through a traumatic experience that had mentally and physically exhausted her. She needed to know she was loved and that he'd be there to protect her. For the hundredth time, he cursed himself for having left her while he'd gone off to Fairbanks.

He ladled out a bowl of vegetable soup and set it on the table, along with thick slices of sourdough bread. Next he poured her a tall glass of milk.

While he was in the kitchen, Caroline changed clothes and brushed her teeth and hair. She looked a sight; it was a wonder Paul hadn't leapt at the chance to be rid of her.

Paul glanced up expectantly when she entered the room and pulled out a kitchen chair for her. Caroline sat down, staring at the meal. Although it smelled delicious, she had no appetite.

Her lack of interest must have been obvious because Paul spoke sharply. “Eat, Caroline.”

“I…I can't.”

“Try.”

“I want to go home.”

Paul's fists were so tight his fingers ached.
Patience,
he reminded himself—and she'd been awake only a few hours.