by Cassie Hayes
Taking a deep breath, he crossed the short distance to the cabin. Inside, Isabelle sat pertly at the table, picking at her fingernails. When he walked in, she looked up at him, but he averted his eyes before she could see the pain lingering in them.
“Dermot—“
He interrupted again. “Brr, it’s cold. Better get a fire started.”
“Please, listen—“
“Sure do wish I had a stash of old newspapers, but I use ‘em up before another batch arrives. Paper makes starting fires so much easier.”
He busied himself with snapping kindling into smaller pieces and setting them in the stove, hoping to delay the inevitable conversation, but he heard her approach and knew the time had come. Pressing his lips into a thin, hard line, he moved to stand and face his fate, when her hand came into view.
“Will this help?” she asked, her voice no louder than the whisper of a soft breeze.
A letter quivered in her trembling outstretched hand. Not just any letter. The letter.
He turned to stare up at her, confused by the meaning of her gesture. The uncertainty in her eyes brought his heart to a dead stop, before her timid smile set it racing.
“W-what…?” he stammered, standing to face her, his wife.
“I’ve been trying to tell you this all morning. Badly, I confess. I’d like to try again, if you’ll let me.”
He nodded mutely, unsure if he should let himself dare to hope.
“What I was trying to say was, all of that nonsense was who I thought I was. I didn’t fight it because I’d never questioned it. I simply assumed everything my mother taught me was a fait accompli. It was my fate and I accepted that. Besides, I never believed in love before.”
He’d been trying to keep his face blank, to not reveal any hint of emotion, but he couldn’t hide his surprise.
“I know, no one believes me,” she continued, “but I learned as a child that love had very little value in my life. Aside from the fact my parents detested each other, the only person I ever truly loved was taken from me.”
“How? Who?”
“It was my first nanny, Nanny Biggs. She raised me from the time I was born until I was about six. She adored me, I could do no wrong, and I loved her with all my heart. I was a curious child, and Nanny Biggs encouraged me to explore and learn. One day, she took me into the kitchens to show me how to make scrambled eggs and…”
Her voice caught with emotion, and after clearing her throat, she continued, tears misting her eyes.
“My mother discovered us and fired Nanny Biggs on the spot. She’d been more of a mother to me than my own had been, and I never saw her again. Mother told me my place was not in the kitchen, but to marry well and not embarrass my family. I cried for weeks and have never eaten an egg since, but eventually Mother’s lesson became my reality, and I turned into the perfect little socialite.”
Dermot opened his mouth to say something, anything to clear the shadows of the past from her eyes, but she stopped him.
“Dermot, I admit I came out here because I was too humiliated to show my face in Ottawa anymore. And I can now see spite played a role in my decision too. I wanted to make Rodney and all my friends jealous. It was shallow and petty, but I don’t regret it because it brought me here.”
Looking down, she reached out and slipped her fingers into his hand, clasping it lightly before searching his face. Dermot kept his face blank, waiting for whatever was coming. Still, his heart refused to be tamed, and it hammered away in his chest.
“Before I came here, I had no idea about…well, anything really. But from the very first day, I was forced to take care of myself.”
He opened his mouth to apologize for his horrendous treatment of her that first night, but she shushed him.
“No, it was a good thing. I could barely boil water without burning it when I arrived, but now I can not only cook—“ she winked and shrugged “—kind of, but I can hunt down the meal in the first place. Not even the Hope diamond could have helped feed us last night. I did that. I wanted an adventure, and that was an adventure!”
She smiled up at him expectantly, but he was still waiting for to say something that made sense. “I’m sure Rodney will be pleased with your new skills, Isabelle.”
He tried to pull away so she wouldn’t see his bitterness over her imminent departure, but she gripped his hand tighter.
“Don’t you understand, Dermot?”
“I guess I don’t,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.
Without a word, Isabelle pressed the letter into the hand she held. He looked down at it, then at her. He knew what he wanted that to mean, but he had to hear her say it. So he waited.
“Dermot, you’re not the only one who gets lost, you know. I was lost before I came here. There was no hope for me. I’d resigned myself to wander in the wilderness for the rest of my pitiful life, until death finally took me and gave me peace. But through the darkness, I was lucky enough to spot a beacon that led me to a home I never knew existed.”
She stepped in closer, pressing her body to his. He breathed in her scent and held his breath, wishing with all his might that he wasn’t simply dreaming, that this was real. When she stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his, he knew it wasn’t a dream.
“Are you saying…” he started, a smile playing at his still-burning lips.
Her eyes shifted from his mouth to his eyes. “I’m saying that I love you, Dermot Strickland, and there’s no place I’d rather call home than our cabin in the woods.” She let out a sharp breath and searched his face. “Now you.”
Joy bubbled up from a deep well inside Dermot. He’d thought he’d been in love a hundred times, but now he truly understood what love meant. It meant standing by someone, even when it would be easier to walk away. It meant celebrating their successes and mourning their failures as your own. It meant working together to build a life neither could have on their own. He and Isabelle shared an eternal love that would only grow stronger the more ‘adventures’ they shared. And he knew without a doubt, he wanted her by his side through each and every one.
Grinning from ear to ear — not once thinking about how his dimples might give her palpitations or if she found him charming — Dermot scooped Isabelle into his arms and spun her around the room. They laughed as they twirled, and when he set her down, they clutched at each other for balance as they laughed.
“I love my wife!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, waking a snoozing Clara.
Her head wobbled as she sat up, a sleepy little cub.
“Chirp!”
Epilogue
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Next stop, Moose Lick!” called the conductor as he strolled through the rickety, rocking car.
A sense of déjà vu washed over Isabelle, recalling the day she and her friends had pulled into the Moose Lick station to marry four handsome and brave Mounties they’d never met. She’d been so nervous — they all had — but this time, only excitement fluttered in her tummy.
Snow fell softly as the train screeched to a stop in front of the Moose Lick train depot. Winter was just around the corner, and Isabelle thanked the good Lord above that she’d made it back before it had set in with a vengeance. She’d stayed in Ottawa longer than she’d initially planned, but it had been worth it.
Quickly tugging her satchel — the only bag she’d brought — from the bin over her head, Isabelle scurried to the front of the car before the train had even stopped moving. She knew from experience the filthy windows wouldn’t give her the view she needed — only unobscured line of sight would do.
Shifting from foot to foot as she waited for the door to open to her life — her real life — Isabelle wondered if anyone in the world would be happier than she in a few short minutes. When the door opened wide, her heart leapt and tears filled her eyes, and she wasted no time shoving the poor porter out of her way.
“Mommy!”
Isabelle lunged for her baby, who hadn’t been a baby
for a long time, and scooped him up in her arms. She’d taken a photograph of Dermot and Johnny to show her parents, but the black and white image didn’t do justice to their brilliant blue eyes or matching mops of wavy blond hair. And it certainly didn’t come close to seeing and holding and kissing them.
“Johnny, my love! I missed you so much!”
She buried her face in his neck and breathed in his scent. He smelled like cookies and milk and warmth and love. He smelled like home.
Burly arms wrapped around them both, encircling them with the love and safety she’d come to rely on. Turning her face up to her husband, she smiled through her tears of joy, and accepted his kiss. More than accepted.
“Daddy, stop eating Mommy’s face,” Johnny commanded, stroking his father’s cheek gently.
“Yessir,” Dermot said, his eyes glistening with moisture as he gazed at her.
Four months was too long to be away from the loves of her life. She didn’t regret her visit to Ottawa, but never again would she stay away from home for so long. This was where she belonged. This was her home now, and hopefully would be for a very long time.
“Mommy, look what Auntie Janey made me!”
Johnny demanded all of her attention, showing off a pair of mitts made from moose skin and mink fur. Isabelle shot a questioning glance at Dermot.
“Kelu’s wife taught her,” he explained.
“My darling, those are the most wonderful, amazing, spectacular mittens I’ve ever seen. How lucky are you that Auntie Janey loves you so much!”
“I know! And I love her back!”
Isabelle couldn’t stop the tears, which alarmed her son.
“Mommy, don’t cry,” he said, dabbing her face with his new mitts.
“Oh love, these are happy tears,” she said, dropping her head on Dermot’s shoulder as he ushered them off the platform to their wagon.
“Do you want to go see your friends?” Dermot asked.
The thought was tempting, but going home was even more tempting. “I’ll see them on Monday. Right now I just want to go snuggle with my boys and catch up with all the news. They’ll understand.”
Turning the corner, Isabelle cried, “Star! Aurora!” She hadn’t realized until that very moment she’d even missed their sweet horses.
Aurora — the horse Dermot had bought for her — snorted and stamped one foot, marking the soft snow. They’d better hurry, or they might not make it home before it really started coming down.
“Johnny, where did you get this handsome coat?” she asked as they settled on the buckboard’s hard seat and spread a wool blanket across their laps.
“Uncle Kelu gave it to me for my fourth birthday,” he said proudly, before turning sober. “You missed it, Mommy.”
Isabelle had booked her original ticket to return long before her son’s birthday, but had changed it at the last minute, with Dermot’s encouragement.
“I’m so sorry, my love. I swear to you, as long as I live and breathe, I will never again miss your birthday. Can you ever forgive me?”
Johnny squinched up his face, thinking very hard, then gave her a curt nod. It only took a heartbeat before he flung his little body into her arms and buried his face into her neck.
“I missed you, Mommy,” he whispered, his tears wetting the collar of her coat — the same one she’d arrived in five years earlier.
“I missed you too, my love,” she murmured into the top of his head.
Once he settled, she turned her face to her husband and whispered, “I missed you too, my love.”
Dermot’s jaw worked, and she knew he was trying to hold it together, and she loved him for it. The Yukon in November was a wildly unpredictable place, and he needed his wits about him.
“You have no idea,” he finally choked out.
The rest of the three-hour ride home was spent in silence, Isabelle cradling her slumbering son and snuggling up to Dermot, basking in the joy of finally coming home.
Autumn, what there was of it this far north, was on the way out, and winter was wound as tightly as a spring, ready to unleash its fury on them. But not today.
Today, big, fluffy flakes drifted down from a white sky, welcoming them to the longest, hardest season of all, and warning them not to tarry. Isabelle watched the familiar scenery go by, grinning when an Arctic fox sat down on the side of the road and watched them pass.
They had so much to talk about, so much news to share, but now was not the time. Now was the time to revel in their happiness. Only once Star and Aurora were settled in their small stable, Johnny was snuggled in his little bed, and Dermot had stoked the fire until the stove glowed, did they finally relax enough to catch up.
Sitting in front of the stove, on the loveseat Dermot had built for them, Isabelle snaked her arm through his and nudged him with her shoulder.
“What kind of trouble did you get in while I was away?”
He grinned down at her, his dimples going all the way to China. “I didn’t get lost once, I’ll have you know. But I did learn how to make beef bourguignon.”
She pulled away in shock. “Why? More importantly, how?”
“Why, because I know it’s your favorite dish,” he answered, tapping her nose with his finger. “How, from a recipe Tilly sent while you were gone.”
“Tilly wrote?” she gasped, even more joy filling her heart. She’d been reminded of her friend so many times while she visited her parents. It had been a profound revelation to discover she missed her family’s old cook more than she did her own parents.
“A lot. Johnny loved hearing about Monty the Moose’s antics, and I think I’ll be eating well this winter, judging by all the recipes she sent.”
“I hope I can do them justice.”
He released her arm and wrapped his around her shoulders, pulling her into him. “You will.”
They stared at the glowing stove for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet, then Dermot asked, “How was it?”
“It was…amazing,” she breathed.
“Really? I thought it would be awkward.”
“Not at all. It was almost as if no time had passed at all.”
“Tell me all about it,” he said, shifting his body until he was comfortable.
“Oh, where do I start? I wrote you all about my mother and father, and how Father is facing charges and is a disgrace to polite society, right?”
He chuckled. “You did.”
“Well, one night about a week before I was supposed to leave, I mixed Mother’s drinks stronger than usual, and she opened up about…everything, actually. How she’d never loved Father, how her parents had forced her into the marriage, how much she admired me for following my heart. I have to tell you, Dermot, that night has started a long overdue healing between us. I’m not getting my hopes up, but the possibility of forging a new type of relationship with my mother is exciting.”
“I’m so glad, Izzy. I hope that happens. What about the other thing?”
Isabelle grinned up at him. “That very night, when she was almost passed out, I asked, and she told me where to find it. I almost didn’t understand her drunken mumble, but there it was! I called the next morning.”
“Called?”
She slapped his chest. “On the telephone, silly. Remember those? I wonder if we’ll ever get one for the cabin.”
He laughed and hugged her close. “Don’t count on it, my love. So? How did it go?”
“Like I said, amazing. We met later that morning, and Dermot? Everything came flooding back and we just held each other for hours. Okay, not hours. When the waiter cleared his throat behind us, we finally managed to get ourselves under control, but I wasn’t lying when I said it was as if no time had passed.”
“Will she come visit?”
A deep sadness filled her for the first time since the train stopped. “No, she’s much too old now. She lives with her niece, and quite frankly, I’m not sure I’ll see her again before she passes, because I can’t bear the thought of leaving my boys
for that long ever again.”
Dermot wrapped his other arm around her and hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry, Izzy. But at least you got to see her again.”
“That’s true,” she said, sniffing back the tears that threatened. “Oh! Did you know her first name is Ethel? Ethel Biggs. Isn’t that perfectly wonderful?”
“Perfectly wonderful,” he murmured as he kissed the top of her head.
“I’m going to write her every week and tell her about all of our exciting adventures. She promised to write back.”
They sat for a while longer, until Isabelle’s stomach rumbled loudly. They laughed quietly, not wanting to wake Johnny.
“You’ve had a long day, my beautiful wife,” Dermot said, standing. “Can I make you something to eat?”
Isabelle thought for a moment, then smiled. “I’d love some scrambled eggs.”
Dermot frowned. “Eggs? You hate eggs.”
Her gaze drifted to the snow pattering softly against the window. “Not so much anymore. Besides, the baby seems to be craving them.”
Dermot froze as he reached for a pan and turned slowly toward her. “Baby?” he croaked, his wide blue eyes dancing with hope.
Isabelle grinned.
Dermot whooped and scooped her into a hug. Johnny woke up, rubbed his eyes, and clambered into their laps, wanting in on the action.
“Daddy, are those happy tears, like Mommy’s?” Johnny asked, his little brow furrowed as he stared at his father.
“Very happy tears, son. You see, you’re going to be a big brother very soon.”
“I am?” Johnny’s blue eyes grew big. “Will I have a little sister or a little brother?
“We’ll have to wait to find out,” Isabelle said with a laugh. “Maybe you could think of some names for your new little brother or sister.”
Johnny sat up, suddenly serious. “Oh, I already have names all picked out.”
Dermot and Isabelle exchanged an amused glance. Their son had been hounding them for a sibling since he could talk. He’d obviously given this a lot of thought.
“Oh?” Dermot asked.