She grabbed hold of his arm, stopping him from speaking, and said to her children, “You go on back and color for a few minutes. I have to talk to Mr. Camden.”
She was trembling. He could feel it but he had no idea why she would be so emotional about this. Still, her fingers dug into his arm as the children filed out, and he waited, since that was what she seemed to want.
He gazed down into her soft hair, catching a hint of the scent of roses. She seemed small, slender, and for a moment he was reminded of the time he’d found a young silver fox caught in a rusty trap in the pine forest. It had trembled, too, as he’d used one hand to quiet it while working it free with the other. That had been a fool thing to do. He’d known the whole time that the fox could turn at any moment and lash out at him, hurt him badly. But it had been something he’d had to do. The fox had struggled at first, but then it had lain still, and once free, it had streaked off into the woods. Joe had never seen it again.
Her children had finally straggled out of the room, and her head turned. Her dark eyes met his, but there was nothing wary in them, nothing fearful. They were huge and soft and warm, but there was a challenging look to them that caught him by surprise and made him wonder if he’d only imagined that she was nervous. Maybe she’d been shivering from the cool air.
“Okay,” she said crisply. “We can talk.”
“Listen,” he began, anxious to get this identity thing cleared up.
But she shook her head, still clinging to his arm, looking up into his face and talking very fast. “No, you listen. I know this isn’t fair. I know I should have told you. But...but this is the way it is and the way it has to be. If you don’t want us, I’ll understand. But you have to give us a chance. You can’t just turn us away without giving us a chance.”
He stared at her, completely at sea. He had no idea what she was talking about.
“I didn’t tell you about Rusty and Kim,” she went on earnestly, “and that was wrong. But I wanted you to see them before you made up your mind. I wanted you to get to know them. They’re good kids—they really are. They’ll grow on you—you’ll see.”
A shriek from the other room made her wince, but she forced a smile, despite the fact that Joe was shaking his head.
“Listen, kids are not my thing—” he began.
“I know,” she broke in, throwing out one arm as though that were the most natural reaction in the world. “Of course not. Living out here in Alaska, you probably hardly see kids. So you don’t really know, do you?”
He made a face and shrugged. This conversation was crazy, but she looked so cute trying to convince him, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to end. “I was a kid once,” he reminded her.
Her eyes brightened. “Kids have improved since then,” she told him artfully. “You’ll see.”
He grinned, appreciating her spirit though he knew better than to believe her. “You know what?” he said. “There’s no use trying to convince me. Because I’m not Greg.”
Her eyes widened, and she stared at him for a long, long moment. Then a look of skepticism crept over her face.
“Oh, I see,” she said, her eyes turning as chilly as her tone. “You’re going to try to get out of this that way, are you?”
“No,” he said, half laughing. He ran a hand through his dark hair and gazed down at her, perplexed. “Look, it’s true. I’m not Greg. And I’m not even sure why you’re here.”
“I’m here to marry you. Remember?”
“Marry...?” Words failed him, and he lost his breath. All he could do was stand there, staring down at her. The word had hit him like a flash of lightning, shutting off all thought processes as the shock skittered through his body.
“Yes, marry.” She tried to smile, but his reaction had thrown her off her game. “That was the plan.”
He shook his head, struggling to put his feelings into words. “Oh, no, I can’t believe that. Marriage...” He thought of his brother and his isolated ways and shook his head again. “No, that can’t be.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her pretty mouth set. Turning, she whipped an envelope out of her purse and handed it to him. “Then what is this?” she demanded.
The envelope was slit open at the top. A letter was tucked inside, along with a photograph. The letter was from his brother. The photograph was of Joe.
“A deal is a deal, mister,” she told him firmly as he unfolded the letter and glanced at it. “You contracted for a bride. You looked through an extensive catalog and you chose me. And here I am.”
Words still stuck in his throat. He looked at her. He looked at the picture. He looked back at her. And nothing came out of his mouth. If he took her at her word, if he took what she was saying literally—well, then she had to be a mail-order bride. He swore softly, shaking his head. What had he done, stepped back in time? People didn’t do things like this anymore. Did they?
Grasping at straws, he waved the envelope at her. “This is a joke, right?”
She stared at him for a moment, then tossed her head and turned into the kitchen, taking off her suit jacket as she went. “Is there an apron in here somewhere?” she asked, then grabbed a large tea towel and tied it around her waist without waiting for an answer.
“What are you doing?” he asked, following her, still clutching the envelope, still feeling very much at sea.
She looked up at him with cool defiance. “I’m going to make you something to eat. I’m going to cook.”
He frowned. “You don’t need to cook for me.”
“Why not? Aren’t you hungry?”
He hesitated. It had been a long time since he’d eaten breakfast. “Well, yes, but...”
“Then I will cook for you,” she said, opening the refrigerator and staring inside. “Consider it a form of audition for the job.”
He couldn’t hold back a grin. “This is crazy,” he said, shaking his head.
She nodded, pulling eggs and bacon out and placing them on the counter. “I think so, too,” she said coolly. “But you seem to need to be convinced.”
He slumped back against the counter, watching her, pushing back the erotic fantasies that threatened to break into his thoughts. He had an urge to pinch himself. Could he be dreaming? Talk about dreams come true—here was this woman, offering herself up to...
No, he wouldn’t think about it. That would only end up getting him into big trouble—trouble he didn’t need.
“I don’t mean to ridicule you, you know,” he told her softly. “But I just can’t believe that a woman like you has to resort to something like...like mail order... to get a man.” He grimaced. “It just doesn’t compute.”
She spun and confronted him. “Look. You picked me out of the catalog. You must have liked something about me. You wrote me that nice letter and sent me your picture. You signed a contract with the agency.” She searched his blue eyes, looking for answers. “You sent money for my plane fare. What did you think? That this was all a game? That I would never actually show up?”
He started shaking his head before she was finished and kept shaking it. “That was my brother Greg who did all that,” he tried to explain once again. “My name is Joe. It wasn’t me.”
She grabbed his hand and looked up into his face, her eyes huge with determined entreaty. “Give me a chance,” she said softly. “Please. I’ll be a good wife. And my kids...” She shook her head, and for a moment he was afraid her eyes would fill with tears. “They’re good kids. You just wait. They won’t be any trouble at all. You’re going to love them.”
Loving