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his gray fur. Mariah had never seen a breed like it before. She knew from the letters that the puppy had been born to one of his sled dogs.
    “Who’s Yuri?” John James asked.
    “Yuri’s my dog,” Wesley replied. “I sold all my others, but couldn’t bear to part with him.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Outdoors.”
    The young dog and the hounds sniffed each other with tails wagging.
    Wes’s charming grin turned up the corner of his lips. “Your pup’s used to being around a pack of sled dogs and the rest of his litter.”
    John James reached for the puppy, and it backed away.
    “Let him smell you first,” Wes instructed. “Show him the back of your hand.”
    The furry dog sniffed John James’s hand, licked it and then stood with his paws on John James’s shirtfront.
    The crowd murmured their appreciation and John James turned his face aside to avoid the dog’s lapping tongue. He giggled with delight.
    “You must be hungry.” Henrietta had joined them and now stood just behind Mariah’s shoulder.
    Mariah turned and offered her mother her forearm. “This is my mother.” Friederick joined them. “And my father.”
    Henrietta released Mariah to walk straight to Wesley. She raised her hand to his chest, then his shoulder. “You’re tall.”
    Wes stood silent beneath her appraisal.
    Henrietta raised both hands and ran them over his dark wavy hair, loosening another curl in the process, and then trailed her fingers over his forehead and nose.“Isn’t he a handsome one, Mariah?” she asked.
    Mariah’s neck warmed and the heat spread to her cheeks. Wes Burrows was definitely a ruggedly handsome man. The last thing she wanted to do was tell him she thought so, but she had to answer her mother. “He’s a handsome one, Mama.”

Chapter Four
    L aughter erupted around them.
    Henrietta took Wesley’s hand and placed it on her arm. “Come, get a plate and eat. It’s my father’s birthday and we’re celebrating with our traditional dishes. Do you like schweinswurst?”
    “I don’t know that I’ve ever had it, ma’am. But the food sure smells good.”
    Mariah stood rooted in place as conversation swelled to normal. Her brothers blended back into the gathering, and her mother led Wesley toward the food tables.
    Roth poured a mug full from the barrel and handed it to Wesley, who accepted the beer with a nod of thanks.
    John James followed with the puppy at his heels and fed the animal bites of sausage without anyone scolding him.
    Mariah’s newly married sister, Annika, tookMariah’s hand and led her toward the dining hall. “This is an exciting day.”
    Mariah nodded.
    “John James looks so happy.”
    Now Wes was seated at the long table and Henrietta directed Mariah’s youngest sister Sylvia to fill his mug already. A heaping plate of food befitting a logger sat before him, and in between answering questions from others at the table, he seemed to be enjoying it.
    Annika urged Mariah toward the empty chair beside him, and reluctantly, she took it.
    “Where did you leave your plate?” Annika asked.
    Mariah couldn’t remember, so Sylvia brought her new servings and a fresh mug of beer.
    Wesley glanced from the mug placed before Mariah to all the others around the table. The Spanglers drank beer with their meal as though it was water. Even the children had brimming mugs. He’d never seen beer served outside a saloon.
    The food was pure heaven on his tongue, rich sauces and savory spices. This was a meal cooked by women who knew their craft and employed it seriously. His meals over a typical season consisted of salmon and small game roasted over an open fire. An occasional stay in a town sometimes garnered him a few vegetables and maybe a dried fruit pie that cost an arm and a leg.
    “What is this?” he asked, of a particularly tasty serving on his plate and Mariah politely explained the potato dumpling.
    She pushed around the food on her plate with her fork. It was plain she was uncomfortable with