The Suspect Groom

She turned to her left and walked past the other large structure. The two-story lodge had obviously been constructed in a more planned, professional manner. The siding was all log, and the trim was also red. An eight-foot-tall totem pole, depicting a squatting bear, beavers and a soaring eagle, stood in front.

Back toward the house, past the garage and several mysterious outbuildings, she saw the barn. And David. He sat astride a chestnut mare, looking every inch the cowboy with his Levi’s and his down vest, his broad shoulders and his black Stetson hat.

The moment Trina recognized him, her heart leapt up in her throat. Immediately, she gulped hard. This response was not a good sign! She needed to think of Ivan—his letters, his sensitivity, his generosity. Instead, she felt like singing, like laughing and running toward David with her arms outstretched. Too easily, she imagined him pulling her onto the saddle and galloping off over the snow-covered fields into the primeval forests.

“Oh, damn.” This was all wrong. With her little red mittens, she covered the lower half of her face. What was she going to do? Go back to the kitchen. Forget you ever saw him. These outrageous yearnings couldn’t lead to anything but trouble. If she had an ounce of sense, she would run away while she still could.

Instead, she stepped forward and waved. “David!”

His chiseled features relaxed in a smile when he recognized her, and he eased his mount forward. “Do you like to ride, Trina?”

“I haven’t done much riding.”

“Today’s a good day to learn. Before the snowfall.” He swung off his horse and stood beside her. “Let’s go to the barn.”

He hitched his horse outside, and they entered a large structure with a high flat ceiling, several empty stalls and a tack room. The floor was wood, scattered with hay and very clean. The whole barn smelled pleasantly of leather and hay. “Six horses and two cows,” David said, “as I mentioned before, no more pigs or chickens.”

“Too succulent,” she remembered.

She followed him to the rear door that opened onto a large corralled area where the horses were kept. David whistled two low notes, and a dappled gray horse plodded toward them. In moments, the mare was saddled and David helped Trina swing her leg astride. He adjusted her stirrups. “How’s that?”

“Feels tall,” she said. She inhaled deeply, struggling to stifle the heart-pounding excitement that arose unbidden at David’s proximity.

He mounted his own horse. “Just stick with me.”

“What do I do with the reins? How do I make her turn?”

“Basically, you do nothing. This is Myrtle, the original old gray mare. She’ll follow the lead horse. But if you want to turn, pull in the direction you want to go. Pull back, like on a hand brake, to stop. We’ll just take a short jog.”

As they rode slowly away from the barn, the whole day took on a new, beautiful aspect. Despite her sunglasses, the world seemed rose-colored, soft and beautiful.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“I love it.” Why was the snow prettier here than in Denver? Only a week ago, she’d been dragging herself to work in an office in downtown Denver. Today, she was riding on horseback into the Alaskan landscape. She wanted this to be her life-style. How could she ever go back?

When they had gone a ways from the barn, David picked up the pace to a canter. Trina’s horse followed suit.

Bouncing up and down in the saddle, Trina said, “What are you doing?”

“Giving the horses some exercise. If we have a blizzard, they’ll be inside for a couple of days.”

David glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned. He almost laughed out loud. Trina was pretty damn cute, he thought. She was hanging on tight, jostling up and down in the saddle like a yo-yo. Her little red cap bobbled wildly.

“We’re going faster,” he warned. “You’ll like this better. Not so much bouncing.”

“G-g-good.”

He guided his chestnut mare in a slow gallop across the snowfields. There was another set of tracks in front of them, from that couple who were staying at the lodge, the Winkles, and David purposely turned in another direction. At the edge of the forest, he halted so Trina could catch her breath. Trina’s mount pulled up beside him.

“Isn’t this where they found the body?” she asked.

“No, it’s farther toward the road. North of here.” The new pace he set was slow and comfortable.

“David? When we were talking by the fireplace, you said you had a solution to my problems.”

“Did I?”

“I’d like to hear it. I’m really confused and maybe you have an idea I haven’t considered.”

He scrunched down his eyebrows, made a pretense of thinking, then shook his head. “Mustn’t have been very useful,” he said, “because I already forgot what it was.”

But he hadn’t. Yesterday, he had almost proposed to her himself. Almost asked her to make Alaska her home, and to make him her husband. But that moment had passed, and David was damn glad he’d not mentioned that idea. He’d been married once already and hadn’t been too good at it.

Besides, he thought, he couldn’t give Trina all she deserved. David wasn’t a rich man. Sure, he had a little nest egg. But no land. Ivan had seen to that.

In spite of his precautions in turning the opposite direction, he spied the Winkles, Phyllis and Bradley, threading through the forest and coming right toward them.

“Hold it right there,” Bradley called. He raised the lens of his .35 millimeter camera to his eye, aimed and shot their picture. “Wow! Great shot! This is incredible country.”

David performed the introductions. He wasn’t impressed with these two environmentalists from Boulder, Colorado, who worked for some kind of weirdo magazine. Bradley was the photographer, and Phyllis was the writer. They’d supposedly come to do a piece on the hunting preserve, but David suspected they were looking for violations of hunting restrictions regarding endangered species.

“That’s so Gothic,” Phyllis said to Trina. “You’re a mail-order bride? How could you give up everything for a man?”

“There wasn’t much to give up,” Trina murmured.

“But how did you know it was right? Did you have a special feeling? Maybe you knew him in another life....”

“Another life?”

“You know, like karma.”

“Don’t tell her anything,” David warned. “She’s a writer.”

“Stop it, David! I’m also a human being, and I’m totally sympathetic to Trina.” While she spoke, she stroked her horse’s neck. “Bradley and I have only been married for six months, so I’m familiar with the problems of newlyweds.”

“What problems?” Bradley said.

“You know.”

“No, Phyllis, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Phyllis leaned toward Trina. “Sometimes, Bradley is a regular green-eyed monster. Jealous, you know.”

“Really,” Trina said, glancing at Phyllis who was blond and extremely thin. “Maybe he had a reason to be jealous. In another life.”

“We did know each other in past lives,” Phyllis said with a completely straight face. “In Atlantis.”

“Did you?” Trina nodded. What a wacko! “How did you two happen to come way up here from Boulder?”