Chapter Six
Sebastian didn’t know when the feeling had begun—only that it refused to leave him alone.
At first, it had been no more than a sense that Lula stopped herself before finishing certain thoughts.
He would ask a question—a simple, harmless question—and she would answer carefully, as if deciding if each word was safe.
He told himself it was habit. Or grief. Or the result of marrying a stranger and trying not to offend.
But the feeling didn’t fade.
Some evenings, as they sat together after supper, he would watch the firelight move across her face and feel as though he were standing just outside a closed door—welcome in the house, welcomed in the bed, yet barred from something deeper.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he said one evening as she stitched by lamplight.
“So are you,” Lula replied with a small smile.
He nodded. “Thinking.”
“About what?”
He hesitated. “You.”
Her needle paused for just a breath too long. “I hope that isn’t a bad thing.” Why would he be thinking about her? Did he somehow know? How could he know?
“No,” he said quickly. “Not bad. Just...I worry sometimes that you’re hiding something from your past. Something about your first marriage.”
She looked down at her hands. “Everyone hides something.”
“Yes,” he agreed softly. “But I’d like to help you through whatever it is you’re afraid to tell me about.”
She smiled at him then—warm, grateful, and closed all at once. “You already do.”
He wanted to believe her, but she still hadn’t revealed anything. What could she be so afraid for him to know? He’d obviously accepted her as his wife.
Lula felt him slipping away even as she felt herself drawing closer.
Each day, she noticed something new about him—the way he checked the weather before leaving for work, the quiet care with which he stacked firewood, the way he asked after the other families without being prompted.
She was falling for him, slowly and against her will, and the fear of losing what they were building consumed her.
If he knew the truth...
She didn’t—couldn’t—finish the thought.
When Belle stayed home with a feverish, teething baby, Lula volunteered to hunt alone. It would give her time to think.
“You don’t have to,” Sebastian said as she packed her supplies. “I could come with you.”
She shook her head. “You need to work. I know these woods, and hunting alone has never bothered me.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Leave a note where you’ll be. In case something happens.”
“I will,” she promised
The woods were quiet, the air sharp and clean. Lula moved easily, her body remembering what her mind no longer needed to instruct. When she spotted the deer, the shot was clean and sure.
“Thank you,” she murmured, resting a hand against the earth.
She was halfway through field dressing when she sensed movement behind her—not danger, but attention.
Ella stepped into view, rope and knife in hand.
“I heard the shot,” Ella said.
“I thought you might,” Lula replied. She used her rifle more than the bow and arrow. It suited her better. And it made her feel as if she was still connected to Bill in some way.
They worked without wasting words. Ella steadied while Lula cut, her hands sure, efficient. When Lula hesitated, Ella spoke quietly.
“There,” she said. “Cut there.”
Lula adjusted. “Better?”
Ella nodded once.
They hauled the deer together, resting when needed, moving again without comment. Back at Lula’s cold house, Ella laid out the cloth and twine, taking charge without being asked.
“For sale,” she said softly as she tied the last bundle. “These too.”
“And those?” Lula asked.
“For winter.”
Lula exhaled, rolling her shoulders to release the tension. “Thank you.”
Ella kept her eyes on her work. “It won’t keep itself straight.”
When Lula returned home, dusk had already settled. Sebastian was inside, tending the stove.
“You’re later than usual,” he said, relief clear in his voice.
“I got a deer,” she replied.
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I didn’t doubt you would.”
“Ella and I field dressed it, and it’s in the cold house, all labeled.
She told me what to keep for winter and what to sell.
I don’t know if I’d be able to do it all without her.
She’s organizing Belle’s cold house as well.
There’s no doubt in my mind she’ll move onto Sally’s when she’s finished.
Her ability to organize surprises me sometimes. ”
He nodded and served the beans he’d cooked for their supper. They ate together, the silence not uncomfortable—but heavy.
“I’m thankful Ella helped today,” Lula offered.
“I’m glad she was with you.” He paused. “I don’t like when you’re alone for too long.”
She reached for his hand. “I came back.”
“Yes,” he said gently, squeezing once before letting go. “You did.”
That night, as Lula lay awake listening to the familiar sound of his breathing beside her, she wondered how the man she was growing to love could feel farther away with each passing day.
And for the first time since arriving in Alaska, she worried that the greatest danger was not the cold, nor the wilderness—but the truth she was not yet ready to share.
*****
Lula decided on the supper invitation almost on a whim.
“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” Sebastian said as he finished splitting kindling outside the cabin.
Lula closed the door on the cold house, shivering in the harsh wind. “I am,” she admitted. “Which is usually when I decide to do something else instead.”
He smiled faintly. “That sounds dangerous.”
“Ella and David,” she said. “They should come over. For supper. And cards.” It would be good to have someone else there, so she didn’t feel so uncomfortable with her growing feelings for Sebastian.
Sebastian paused, then nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
Ella arrived exactly when she said she would—five minutes after dusk—with David a step behind her. David smiled easily, thanking Lula for the invitation as he stamped snow from his boots.
“I made stew,” Lula said. “And bread. It isn’t Myrtle’s, but it’s edible.”
“That’s a high standard,” David said, grinning.
Ella nodded once. “It smells good.”
They ate close together at the small table, bowls refilled without comment.
David complimented the stew. Sebastian relaxed enough to tell a story about a winter storm that had trapped half the millworkers indoors for three days.
Lula laughed more than she expected to, the sound easing something tight in her chest.
After the dishes were cleared, Lula set out a worn deck of cards. “Have you taught David to play Euchre yet?” she asked Ella.
Ella nodded her head. “He plays two-handed, but he hasn’t played with a partner yet.”
“It’s easy enough to teach him, partners, if he’s played two-handed,” Sebastian said, dealing. “I grew up playing Euchre with my family.”
They played the simple game, and for once, the quiet was companionable. David teased Sebastian when he lost a hand. Lula accused Ella, laughing, of holding cards too carefully.
“I don’t waste information,” Ella said, and the timing of it made all four of them laugh.
At one point, Sebastian leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“I am,” Lula said, surprised to find it was true. “I’ve always loved playing cards, but this group makes it seem extra special.
Beside her, Ella smiled—not wide, not showy, but real.
When the night wound down and coats were pulled on, David thanked them again. “We should do this more often,” he said.
Ella nodded. “If it suits you.”
“It does,” Lula said quickly. “I’ve really enjoyed tonight.”
After the door closed behind them, the cabin felt better than it had before. They’d needed a night with another couple. Lula decided she’d invite people over more often.
Sebastian reached for Lula’s hand. “That was good,” he said.
She laced her fingers with his. “It was.”
And for the first time in days, the distance between them felt a little smaller. She moved into his arms and kissed him, pleased that they’d had a good evening and that they had friends who were married. It would be so much easier to fill their empty nights with friends.
*****
The next afternoon, Lula carried two wrapped cuts of venison and a brace of rabbits into Katie’s shop, pleased with the weight of them in her arms. The bell over the door jingled as she stepped inside. Katie looked up from behind the counter and grinned at once.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite huntress,” Katie said. “And from the look of things, you’ve brought me something worth smiling about.”
Lula set the meat down carefully on the counter. “Venison and rabbit. Ella helped me wrap everything the way she thought would be easiest for you to sell.”
Katie unwrapped one bundle enough to inspect it, nodding in approval.
“This is beautiful work. Clean cuts, well wrapped, and fresh enough that I could sell it all before sundown if I had to.” She rewrapped it with care.
“You keep bringing me meat like this, and I’ll never complain a day in my life. ”
Lula smiled, warmth spreading through her despite the chill from outside. “That’s good to hear. I was hoping this would be a proper business arrangement for both of us.”
“It will be,” Katie said. Then she paused, as if remembering something, and reached beneath the counter. “Oh! And this came for you this morning. Bernard said someone from the steamer brought a bag of post, and this was in it.”
She held out a letter. Lula went still the instant she saw the handwriting. Her mother’s elegant script slanted across the front of it as if no time at all had passed since Lula had last seen it on engraved invitations and carefully penned rebukes. For a moment, she simply stared.
Katie’s smile faded. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know,” Lula said honestly. She slipped one finger beneath the flap and opened it there at the counter.
My dear Lula,