The Suspect Groom

He gazed into her eyes, regretting her pain and wishing there were some easy cure for her aching heart. He had never meant to hurt her. His stumble into deception had begun innocently enough.

When Ivan placed his advertisement for a mail-order bride in a nationally distributed magazine, the response was astounding. Over a hundred women replied, sending along photos and brief letters. Since it was David’s job to hire and fire new employees, the letters ended up on his desk. He composed a standard response for the eighty or so that Ivan rejected based solely on their photographs. To the others, David wrote a discouraging letter about the hardships of living in Alaska. Only five responded a second time. Among them was Trina.

He still remembered her letter, which was intelligent, witty and full of hope. She’d spoken of companionship, not passion. And her yearning for adventure rang true. He rejected the other four and started their month-long correspondence. Every night, before going to bed, he composed a letter on his word processor and signed it with Ivan’s name. As he grew more fond of her, his letters took an intimate turn. Writing to her and reading her responses became his favorite time of day.

In the back of his mind, he knew that he was signing Ivan’s name, but he avoided thinking ahead to the time when she would actually be here. She would never be his. She belonged to Ivan, a wealthy and powerful man. Desperately, he had tried not to care too much.

When he met her at the airport, he should have told her. Yesterday, when they sat in this room, he should have explained. He cursed his cowardice, damn every word and phrase he had written. Right this moment, as he gazed into her pure blue eyes, he should tell her.

“David? Have you ever been in love?”

“I was married once.”

“So was I,” she said wryly. “I am now. But that’s not what I asked.”

“I loved my wife when I met her. I was going to school in northern California, and we settled there. I don’t know what happened. Maybe we were too young. Anyway, we grew apart.” He winced at the memory. “We had two small children, a boy and a girl. Not a day passes when I don’t think of them.”

“Are they still in California?”

He nodded. “I couldn’t stand to be in the same state and not be with them. I came back here, home to Alaska, and buried myself in work for Ivan. Needless to say, he was only too glad to have a foreman who wanted to put in twenty-four-hour workdays and have no other life.”

“Seems like a lot of people come to Alaska for that reason...to run away from something.” She paused, twisted the engagement ring on her finger. “I thought I was running toward something. But it’s not here.” She rose to her feet. “I can’t stay here. I’m going upstairs to change clothes. Will you drive me to town, David? I’ll find my way from there.”

“You’re leaving?” A shock went through him as he stood beside her. He didn’t want her to go. Even if she was married to Ivan, he wanted to be near her.

“I can’t stay. I don’t love Ivan, and I doubt that I ever will.” She bit her lower lip. “I mean, look at me, dressed like a bride when I have no love in my heart. I dislike Ivan. In time, I might learn to despise him.”

“But, Trina—”

“No. If I stay, I’m as big a liar as he is. Maybe I already am. I didn’t tell the truth in my letters, you know. I’m not twenty-five, I’m ten years older. Old enough to know better than to make plans based on promises and dreams.”

“Never give up on your dreams, Trina.”

She looked into his eyes. “But they’ll have to be dreams, deferred. Maybe someday I’ll be able to do this right.”

“Don’t go.” He held her chin in his hand. “I’d miss you too much.”

“That’s kind for you to say. But you hardly know me.”

“I know you better than you think. Don’t leave. Not yet.”

“But I can’t stay. I can’t....”

She watched as he gently came closer. At the last second, her eyelids closed, and she tasted his lips in a firm but gentle kiss. A tremor went through her. She felt lighter than air, ephemeral as a snowflake.

Of their own volition, her arms reached for him. Without opening her eyes, she clung to him. His second kiss wakened the sweetest sensations. Sheer pleasure blossomed within her. This was the way a kiss should be, a prelude to desire.

The door to the room pitched open. “Hey, David. Get on out here, the party’s going and—”

David turned, tried to shield her from the intruder’s view. “I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, dang.” It was the voice of Sheriff Reuben Kittridge. “I’m real sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.... Is that you, Trina? Oh, dang.”

She heard the door bang shut. She probably should have been embarrassed, but Trina was beyond humiliation. “Now I’m really in trouble, huh? I feel like I’m in grade school, and I just got caught by the principal.”

“Are you going to be all right, Trina?”

“I’ll survive. But I’m not much in the mood for a party. I guess I need to talk to Ivan before I leave the lodge.” She plucked the diamond from her finger. “And I need to return this.”

“I’ll come with you,” David said.

“That’s all right. All I need is for you to drive me into town after I talk to Ivan.”

“Trina.” David stilled her protests by placing his finger crosswise on her lips. “I will be with you when you talk to Ivan.”

A sudden warmth coursed through her veins. She felt safer and stronger than any other time during this Alaska sojourn. “Thank you, David. I would appreciate that.”

“Ivan’s a smooth talker. I know from experience.”

They made their way to the kitchen. David advised her to hold back while he called Maybelle to one side. “Where’s Ivan?”

“Well, it’s the silliest thing I’ve ever seen. He comes in here, blabs to the world that he’s a married man, says I should check on Trina, then tells me he’ll be in his study and is not to be disturbed. I’ve knocked a couple of times, but he doesn’t answer.”

“How long has he been in there?”

“Well, gosh, it was about eleven-thirty when he came into the kitchen. And now it’s almost twelve-thirty. Everybody’s here. They all want to meet Trina and offer their congratulations before this little confetti snow turns into a blizzard.”

David grabbed Trina’s hand and whisked her past the clusters of guests down the hallway and to the office door. He tried to turn the knob. It was locked. He tapped, then called Ivan’s name. Under his breath, he muttered, “I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing. Wait here, I’ll get a key.”

Trina stood uncomfortably, trying to look inconspicuous in her wedding gown. It didn’t help when Maybelle grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through the living room to the dining room to show her the two long tables on which gifts and flowers were displayed. Near the gifts was a three-tiered, fancy white cake with a tiny statue of a bride and groom on top. Maybelle continued toward the guests.

“Please, Maybelle. Not now.”

“Okay, honey. You say when.”

Trina returned to the entryway outside the office door. After a moment, the guests began to appear nearby. It seemed to Trina that they were closing in like wolves for the kill.

One man separated from the others. Like her, he was dressed all in white. His snowy turtleneck was tucked into white flannel slacks. His belt and boots were a pale leather. In contrast, his hair was coal black and his complexion was darkly tanned. Though he dressed like a dandy, he exuded an aggressive, masculine strength. “I’m Jacob Poynter.”

She remembered Maybelle’s description. “You’re the Olympic champion.”

“That was a long time ago.” He gave a practiced, self-deprecating grin. “And you must be the bride-to-be. It’s Trina, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, wishing she could fade into the wainscoting. Where was David?

“Will we be treated to a wedding ceremony?” Jake asked. “I didn’t know that Ivan was religious.”

“No ceremony, actually. It’s already taken place.” She bit her tongue. Why had she said anything? The last thing she wanted was a string of phony congratulations. “Please don’t mention this to anyone.”