The Suspect Groom

She watched him warily as he added another log to the blaze in the fireplace. “Why did you bring me here, David?”

“I thought you might need a friend. I know you’re disappointed. Your first meeting with Ivan didn’t go exactly as you wanted.”

An understatement if she’d ever heard one. “It could have gone worse. I mean, he didn’t bite the head off a live chicken or anything.”

“I might have a solution.”

“Murder Ivan?” she suggested.

“The thought has crossed my mind—a number of times. But I don’t think we need to try anything so drastic.”

“Okay, David, what do you think I should do?”

She glanced at him. Even though she couldn’t see him clearly without her glasses, he appeared to be uncomfortable, and he spoke with hesitation,. “Sometimes, Trina, things aren’t as they seem.”

She nodded. What was he trying to tell her?

“Sometimes, a person can make an honest mistake. It occurs to me that things might not work out with you and Ivan. Now, if that happens to be the case—”

“I don’t want to think about that.” She perched on the wide stone ledge beside the fireplace and sighed. “It’s true that Ivan isn’t all that I had hoped for, but I really haven’t given him much of a chance. I felt much the same way about him after our brief phone conversations, but then I’d read his letters again. I know the man has a kind, gentle heart.”

Maybe Ivan just needed a good woman to bring his shining qualities to the forefront. Maybe he just had a gruff exterior. Or maybe she was kidding herself and Ivan was an irreparable jerk. If he really intended to marry her tomorrow, she didn’t have much time to figure out which was which.

“He seems to be a generous man,” Trina finally ventured.

“When it suits him.”

“I mean, you heard all the things he offered me. The house. The lodge. The land.” She lifted her hand, turned it toward the fire. “Look at this ring, this diamond. It had to be expensive.” But the ring felt heavy on her finger. And the diamond glittered with a cold, harsh light.

“Ivan’s a wealthy man,” David conceded. “I don’t know his liquid value, but his assets make him a millionaire. He made his money in oil thirty years ago. He’s owned this lodge and all the acreage for twenty years. He’s rich, all right.”

Comforting, she thought, but money didn’t really matter. Character was more important in a husband than wealth. She stuck to her initial, hopeful assessment. “He’s generous.”

“And rich. I guess that’s enough to make you go ahead with the wedding.”

“What are you suggesting? That I’d marry a man because of his assets?”

“I’ve been told that it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Right. Sure.” He sounded disbelieving. “If not money, what do you want?”

“A home.”

“You had a home. In Denver.”

“A place to live isn’t a home. In any case, it’s not there anymore. I quit my job, gave up my apartment and sold my car.”

“Why?”

“Because...” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t tell David that she’d been foolish enough to fall in love with a man based on a stack of letters, but that was the truth. With his written words, Ivan had captured her heart.

“Is it because you knew you’d be coming into money?”

“Why do you keep harping on that?”

“I’m looking at the facts, Trina. You’re a mail-order bride. Why? Money. Why else would you come here and offer yourself to a man you’d never met?”

How dare he insinuate that she could be bought! She bounded to her feet and strode toward the door.

“Trina, wait!”

“I won’t sit here and be insulted. Not by you.”

“But by him? By Ivan?” David caught up with her at the door. “You heard what he wants from you. A live-in housekeeper who will bear his sons.”

“Leave me alone, David.”

He grasped her arm and she pivoted quickly. In reflex, her hand rose to slap his face. He caught her wrist, stopping the blow before it landed.

When she looked into his blazing eyes, sparks ignited between them. She staggered backward a step, shocked by the unwarranted passion she felt. What was going on in her head? She was furious with David, so mad she’d almost slapped him. And yet, she wanted nothing more than to fling herself into his arms, to taste his lips, to feel his strong, lean body against hers.

This couldn’t be! Though David was undeniably handsome, she couldn’t succumb to this terrible, inappropriate attraction. This was the eve of her wedding day. She shouldn’t even be looking at another man.

“I’ll be in my room, David. I don’t want dinner. I’m not hungry.”

She wrenched away from his grasp and fled through the mazes of stairs and corridors to find her ridiculous second-floor room that was all flounces, fluff and pink, pink, pink.

She’d never been so confused. Pacing back and forth on creaking floorboards, she felt trapped by her irrational emotions. She fought to calm the thumping of her heart against her rib cage when she thought of...David. Not Ivan, but David St. John. From the moment she’d seen him through the window of the Cessna, he’d been everything she wanted in a man. But it wasn’t right! She needed to ground herself, to make sense of this.

She grasped the silver locket, unfastened the catch and opened it. Carefully, she unfolded the tiny piece of paper. When Ivan had been writing to her, the body of his letters was typed on a computer, but the signature was written. At first, he’d signed his letters with “sincerely,” then he progressed to “cordially.” On the letter he wrote on Valentine’s Day, he signed with the single word she treasured in her locket. “Love, Ivan.”

No matter how horrible he’d seemed when they met, he had written to her of love.

Trina dug through her suitcase until she found his letters. She threw herself across the pink satin bedspread and read the promise he’d written on Valentine’s Day. “The nights in Alaska are the worst. Long, cold and dark. I lie in my solitary bed, wishing for the warmth of someone beside me. Wishing for you. Wishing I could touch your long, silken hair. Wishing I could hear your gentle heart, beating in rhythm with mine. If you marry me, Trina, I vow that your nights will never be lonely....”

In other letters, he had talked about seeing the reflection of a waterfall in her eyes, sitting together on the porch, holding hands and watching the migration of Canadian geese. He wanted to show her the snow foxes and river otters at play. But she couldn’t reconcile his prose with the man who had callously asked her to turn around for inspection.

And what about the phone call he’d received before he dismissed her? His sweetened voice and furtive manner made her think that the caller was a woman. Was he in love with someone else? Was he planning his own special bachelor party in the arms of another woman?

Exhaustion descended upon her like a heavy cloud. Trina kicked off her boots and crept under the covers, sleeping fitfully throughout the night.

The next morning, the skies were still blue, but the snow clouds were rising. Gazing from her window, she marveled at this magnificent land and wished she could be happy. Today, after all, might be her wedding day. But her emotions crashed around her. Her wedding day? “What have I done?”

Her father would have told her to buck up and get on with it, and—for once—Trina figured that was good advice. She needed to meet with Ivan, to assess his attitude and make her decision.

But first, she needed to dress. She stripped, grabbed her terry cloth bathrobe and headed across the wide landing toward the bathroom. She knocked on the door and waited for a response. When none came, she twisted the knob.