Brides of Alaska (54 page)

“Yes, I'm sure he would be,” Rita said and walked to the door. “That's what I'm afraid of.”

Julie chuckled and covered it with a cough. Rita knew her aunt was good-naturedly trying to help her to see the good side of Mark's interest. Rita just shook her head, however, and went to get ready for the party.

The evening passed without mishap, and Rita was beginning to have confidence that she just might avoid Mark, when suddenly he was at her side.

“I'd like to have a moment of your time,” he whispered in her ear. Taking hold of her hand, he added, “If you aren't too busy.”

Rita trembled at his touch and her eyes darkened to ebony.

Against her will, she looked up and saw the determination in Mark's face.

“All right.” She barely got the words out before Mark was leading her down the corridor to the coat-check room.

“Let's walk,” he suggested and called for their coats.

Rita felt her stomach turn flip-flops when Mark helped her on with her coat. She heard an inner voice that told her to run back to the safety of her aunt's house, but her legs refused to move.

“Are you ready?” Mark questioned, seeing that Rita was rooted in place. “You ought to have a good hat,” he added with a grin.

It pulled Rita from her stupor. “I have one,” she said with a smirk, “but my boots don't match.”

Mark laughed heartily. “We'll have to rectify that.” Outside, the town was still overrun with visitors and extended race parties. Mark led Rita down a quiet side street and off to a more secluded part of town. Rita sensed Mark growing more serious.

“I've wanted to talk to you for days, but you were avoiding me,” Mark began. “I figured out if I didn't force my hand I'd have to wait until we got back to your folks' house, and I didn't want to wait.”

Rita didn't even look up. She shuffled along at Mark's side waiting for the rest of his speech.

“I don't know why you are having trouble facing me, Rita.” Mark's words weren't what Rita had expected.

Her head snapped up and the independent spirit in her won over. “I'm not having trouble facing you,” she lied.

“You sure you want to stay with that story, ma'am?” Mark questioned, sounding every bit the law official.

“No, I … well …,” Rita stammered. “So I was avoiding you. What of it?”

Mark laughed out loud and pulled Rita with him. “Come on, let's have some coffee. I know a quiet little place.”

Rita soon found herself seated with Mark as the only guests of the small café. Mark ordered them coffee and continued his conversation as though nothing had caused any break in his thought.

“Why are you avoiding me, Rita?”

“I don't know,” she managed to answer. Her cheeks were flushed and her stomach churned. Why couldn't he just drop the subject and talk about something else?

“I think you do know,” Mark pressed. “I think you know how I feel about you and I think you feel the same way.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Rita replied, and turned her attention to the coffee that the waitress had just brought.

“I've come to care a great deal about you, Rita. At first, I thought it was just because of my loyalty to August, but that passed real quick,” he said with a grin. “I love you, Rita.”

The words were bold and without hesitation, no teasing and not a hint of sarcasm. Rita nearly spit out her coffee at the declaration. Her eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open. How could he say something so important with no more warning than that?

“You what?” She thought she'd only questioned Mark in her mind, but the words vocalized themselves aloud.

“You heard me,” Mark replied patiently. “I love you. Furthermore, I want you to be my wife. I want us to get married right away, even before we go back home.”

“I don't believe this,” Rita gasped. “I can't believe that you're saying any of this.”

“Would you like me to get down on one knee?” he teased.

“I'm serious,” Rita said in an offended tone. “How can you joke at a time like this?”

“I'm serious,” Mark said, moving from the chair to put one knee on the floor.

“Get up,” Rita said between clenched teeth. “Get up before somebody sees you.”

“I won't get up until you say that you'll marry me,” Mark restated.

Rita wanted to run, but instead tears came to her eyes, and before she could control them, she was nearly hysterical. Mark got up and quickly offered her his handkerchief.

“I'm sorry, Rita,” he said softly. He sat back down and waited for Rita to regain control of her emotions.

“No,” Rita whispered. “I'm the one who's sorry. You're a good man and I can't imagine why you would continue to care about me after all that's taken place between us.”

“The past is gone,” Mark offered. “I don't hold anything against you and I hope you don't hold anything against me.”

“I don't,” Rita said, shaking her head. “I just can't deal with all of this right now. I don't know what I feel or think. I was just trying to understand Christianity and where I stood with God and now this. I can't do it, Mark. I can't deal with you and God at the same time.”

“But you've resolved your relationship with God. I was there, remember? I know that you've got a lot of questions, but they'll all get answers in time.” Mark paused for a moment, still feeling disbelief for Rita's display of emotions. “I know you care about me. No, I'm certain you love me,” Mark proclaimed.

Rita dried her eyes and held back the torrent of new tears that threatened to flow. “I'm glad you're certain, because I don't know what I feel.”

They sat in silence for several minutes before Mark surprised them both and got to his feet. “I do love you, Rita. There will always be a place for you back home. I'll be there and you'll know where to find me. Just remember this,” he added with a gentle smile, “I'm not the kind of man who gives up. I'm very patient and I can wait you out. Some day you'll come to me and I'll be there with open arms just for you, Texas Rita.”

He threw some money down on the table and walked from the café, still carrying his coat. Rita stared after him in wonderment. He wasn't mad or, if he was, he held it in so that not a single trace made itself known to Rita.

She marveled at his confidence and peace. “How could he be so certain of his feelings?” she whispered. Yet, even as she questioned his actions, Rita knew in her heart that he was right. She did care for him. She did love him. But how was she supposed to deal with those feelings?

Rita left the café and took the long way back to her aunt's house. She had to think things through and, in spite of the cold, Rita took her time pondering the situation.

“Aunt Julie was right,” Rita muttered aloud. “I'm afraid to trust Mark, just like I was afraid to trust God.” She fell silent and wondered if perhaps she was still afraid to trust God.

“It's all so new to me, God,” she whispered to the night air. “I know that I'm supposed to have faith and to trust, but You know that doesn't come easy for me. Now Mark is asking for the same thing. He wants to marry me, Lord. What am I supposed to do?”

She approached the Curtiss house and caught sight of the light in the window—Sam's light, Julie's light. The reminder of a love that had lasted through childbirth, death, wars, and all that came from the process of living.

Rita thought of the way Sam would look at Julie. There had always been so much love in his eyes, and Rita had marveled at it even as a teenager. How could anyone ever share a love like that and make it last a lifetime?

Rita looked up to the skies as if hoping that some celestial answer would be written across the heavens. Could it be possible that Mark loved her in the same way that Sam had loved Julie? Was it possible that Rita was throwing away her only chance for that kind of love?

She made her way quickly into the house and nearly ran up the stairs to get to her aunt's room. A light from beneath the door gave Rita all the prompting she needed.

She knocked lightly and called, “Aunt Julie, are you still awake?”

“Come on in, Rita,” Julie answered. “What's going on?”

Rita left her coat in the hall and crossed the room to her aunt's bed. “I need to talk.”

Julie smiled and patted the bed. “Have a seat and tell me what's on your mind.”

Rita lost no time. “Mark asked me to marry him.”

Julie clapped her hands together. “How wonderful!”

Rita frowned. “I told him no.”

“You did what?” Julie questioned.

“I told him no. Oh Aunt Julie, I can't marry Mark. I don't know how I feel about him. One minute I think I love him, the next minute I don't think I even know the meaning of the word.” Rita threw up her hands. “How can I promise to love and cherish someone, when I'm not even sure what it means to love.”

“But Rita,” said Julie, “you've known what it is to be loved and to love. You've had your family and friends—”

“No,” Rita interrupted. “I never felt loved by any of my friends. I always kept them at arm's length. It was my fault, but, Aunt Julie, I never let any of them get close enough to love them or for them to love me.”

“But your family,” Julie protested, “they love you and surely you love them. You love me, don't you?”

“Of course,” Rita replied. It hurt so much to think her aunt might question her love. “You've always been there for me. You've always loved me.”

“Well then, what is it?” Julie continued. “Your mother and father love you. Your brothers and sisters love you. How can you say you don't know how to love or be loved?”

Rita hung her head. “I hardly know my brothers and sisters.”

“Whose fault is that?” Julie questioned sternly.

“I know it's partially my fault,” Rita admitted. “But some of it is their fault.”

“You can't deal with other than what you, yourself, control. Your anger and alienation toward them is where you must begin. Let go of the past and the distances that separated you. When you get home, why not write each of them a long letter. Tell them how you feel. I think you'd be surprised at their response,” Julie suggested.

“What about Mother?” Rita finally braved the question.

“What about her?”

“She never wanted me, Aunt Julie. I heard her say it. She can't love me if she didn't even want me.” Rita broke down.

“Talk to her, Rita. Talk to her and let her explain. I know Beth loves you and I know it hurts her when she believes, by your actions, that you don't love her,” Julie said, holding her arms open to Rita's sobbing form.

Rita fell into her aunt's embrace like a small, hurt child. “I want her to love me, Aunt Julie. I want my mother to love me.”

“Child, she already does. Give her a chance to show you,” Julie said in a calming way. “Give them all a chance, Rita. Your mother, God, Mark … let them show you how important you are to them. Let them love you.”

A
nchorage looked almost foreign to Rita. She realized how little attention she'd paid the town before the race. After living there for five years, she'd taken it for granted. Now, looking out from her hotel window, Rita found herself wishing she could be back in Tok.

For over an hour she watched as the townspeople hustled to beat the clock. Traffic moved at a quick clip along the busy, inner-city streets, while pedestrians fought competitively for their right to cross intersections.

Store windows sported huge signs that called the public inside to late winter sales and discounted prices. It was all so busy, so noisy, and completely out of sync with what Rita had just been doing for the last year.

Rita was surprised to find that she missed the quiet of her woods and the vast openness of rural life. She missed the dogs and the roar of the wind through the trees. Even the northern lights would be difficult to see through the harsh city lights. Rita longed for home.

“What am I going to do now?” she whispered to the city. “I don't belong here and I want to go home. But should I go back?”

And what of Mark?
her heart questioned. He loved her and she knew she loved him. Dare she give up her independence and tear down the walls that separated them? Dare she return his love as openly as he gave his?

A knock at the door brought Rita back to reality. She crossed the room, opened the door, and found her parents on the other side.

“Mom! Dad!” squealed Rita. She embraced them both at once and missed the look of surprise they shared over her shoulder. “I wondered when you were going to get here. How are you? How are the dogs?”

“Fine to both questions,” August said with a laugh. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you missed us.”

“What makes you think you know better?” Rita questioned. “I did miss you and I'm very glad to see you here. In fact, I have something important to tell you both.”