Wife By Contract. Raye Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ grandson with the same old sense of disapproval; at the snow shovel propped in the corner, the one that always gave him splinters that lasted longer in his skin than the snow lasted on the ground; at the tall, elegant breakfront where his mother had kept her precious dishes and porcelain figurines. Only a few were left, the ones she didn’t care about. He supposed she’d taken all the rest when she moved to Anchorage, five years before. Nothing had changed.

      Nothing—except Joe himself.

      The woman who called herself Chynna Sinclair came back into the entryway, and he looked up, blinking, wondering how she managed to seem to carry the sunlight with her. She was certainly a pretty thing, but she looked so out of place here in the Alaskan wilderness. He supposed she must be Greg’s girlfriend, though he could hardly imagine where Greg could have met her. Greg wouldn’t go near the city, and this was city bred, all the way. But then, what did he really know about his brother these days? If only Greg were here, these things could be cleared up right away.

      “I... I have to introduce you to my children,” she said, stuttering slightly, and he looked into her eyes with surprise. Why was she so nervous? “This is Rusty. He’s five. And Kim is three.”

      He looked down at the two sets of eyes, both open very wide, looking as though awe had struck them silly, and he smiled and nodded. “Hi, kids,” he said casually, his mind still on the woman.

      “Children,” she told them, “this is Mr. Greg Camden. I...I think you should call him Mr. Camden for now.”

      Joe’s gaze shot up to meet hers. She thought he was Greg? This was crazy. “No, wait a minute....”

      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 СКАЧАТЬ