A Soldier for Poppy (3 page)

“Then don’t let it worry you. Suffice it to say, I’m where I want to be. Peter spoke of you so often and with such love, I envied him.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“And now?”

He wondered how to answer in a way that wouldn’t shock her, finally deciding on the truth. “I still envy him.”

She turned her face up to his, confusion registered in her eyes. “But he’s…gone. How can you envy him still?”

“My dear Poppy,” he whispered as he moved his free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Peter may be gone but he still has your heart. I can’t compete with a ghost.”

“Oh!”

“Maybe we should go in now, before I do something we’ll both regret.”

“Yes, knowing my kids, they’ll be up bright and early,” she said as he helped her to her feet.

He walked her to the door and passed her his empty glass. “I’ll collect my things and see you in a few minutes.”

“I’ll probably head straight to bed. You don’t mind locking up, do you?”

“Not at all. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Poppy.”

“Good night, Carl. Thanks again for today. I had a wonderful time.”

“You’re welcome.” He strode to the front of the house and paused before retrieving his luggage from the trunk. Resting his arms on top of the car, he allowed his head to sink into them in defeat.

He’d almost blown it back there. She was so beautiful and serene, so tempting, he’d wanted to claim her lips in a passion-filled kiss, force her to feel something… anything… for him.

He’d loved Peter as a brother, but he was gone and now it should be his turn at happiness. Sorry, Peter, old buddy, but how on God’s green earth am I supposed to compete with your ghost? A ghost still holding Poppy’s heart captive.

He gathered his belongings, wincing as he encountered the green army issue duffel bag. For a man who didn’t want to bring back memories, he hadn’t prepared very well. The front door squeaked in the silence. He’d have to oil the hinges and check the rest of the doors. Nothing was more annoying than the whine of protesting hinges.

Light showed under Poppy’s door as he gained the upper hallway. He paused briefly, listening for—he knew not what, then walked beyond it to the master suite.

Sleep was a long time coming. His mind wouldn’t shut off. His thoughts concentrated on the woman laying in bed a few doors down. His body remembered the feel of her as he’d held her in his arms. He wanted her but he could be patient. Tonight, he’d planted the seed and he had all summer to watch it take root and grow.

With that hope uppermost in his mind, he crawled from the bed to take the first of what he considered a long line of cold showers.

Chapter Three

Poppy heard the shower start and smiled to herself. She was glad Carl felt comfortable enough to make himself at home. Sleep eluded her, but it wasn’t because of the memorial service or financial stress, as per the norm. No, it was guilt, pure and simple. Peter’s smiling face watched her from the framed photo beside the bed. Their time together would always be a pleasant memory, but she needed more. The kids needed more.

She’d found herself attracted to Carl today at the park and again tonight as they sat on the swing. He was easy to be with, not demanding or critical. How nice it would be to share her life with someone again. Carl had always been an honorary uncle to her kids. Who better to fill the role of stepfather to her fatherless children? Would Peter approve of her attraction to Carl?

The three of them had grown up in an orphanage in Arkansas. Poppy, being petite and pretty, drew the attention of all the boys, but Peter became her protector. He made it known that she was ‘his girl’ and warned the rest to back off.

Carl had been one of his roommates and the two men had developed a friendship closer than any blood relations could ever be. They’d gone everywhere together, often including her in their activities. She’d enjoyed the time spent with them, playing ball, going to the movies or swimming in the creek.

Peter had been such fun to hang out with at the orphanage. He’d loved life and was eager to try everything and anything. Carl, on the other hand, had a more serious outlook on life. He’d kept Peter’s high jinks to an acceptable level and helped them avoid trouble on more than one occasion. He’d served as best man at their wedding, soon after graduation.

When Peter decided to enlist, she’d begged Carl to do the same, hoping and praying that he’d watch out for him in the thick of battle. She’d often wondered if it was Peter’s daredevil attitude, his lack of attention, that had gotten him killed overseas. If so, Carl would never tell her. He wouldn’t want to sully Peter’s memory that way.

She sighed, rolling onto her back so she wasn’t facing his picture. Was this the beginning of the end of her grieving? Life was for the living and Peter would’ve been the first one to remind her of that if he was here. He’d told her so often enough.

The moon shone through the window, highlighting the blue-painted room with a silvery sheen that seemed surreal. Her entire life boiled down to that without Peter. Gone were the hopes and dreams of raising their kids and growing old together. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life alone? A resounding ‘NO!’ was her answer, yet she didn’t feel ready to move on. Her heart still belonged to her dead husband even after two long years of struggling alone. How idiotic was that?

The shower turned off and she pictured Carl drying himself off. She remembered, all too well, his magnificent physique from high school, which had filled out promisingly over the years.

Still unable to sleep, she switched on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book lying there. It was a romantic suspense, a good one, and should serve to channel her thoughts elsewhere. An hour later, she replaced the finished book and turned out the light. She fell asleep and dreamed of the hero, but in her dream, he became Carl and the heroine, the woman he’d rescued and swore to love forever, was herself.

***

Up at dawn, as per the usual, Carl dressed and went down to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He took a cup of it out on the back deck, amazed at the selection of shrubs and plants in bloom. Everywhere he looked, there were abundant colors of every hue. Poppy was a wonder…always on top of things. Work, the kids, the house and her prized garden—she took pride in it all.

He meandered the path he’d traversed with Poppy the night before, except for taking a detour down the trail that led to a promontory overlooking the lake. Early enthusiasts were already out with their sailboats, skimming the clear water and leaving a ripple effect in their wake. On the far side, someone started up a speedboat, the noise eerily intrusive in the morning silence.

His coffee finished, he turned to resume his walk, coming to rest at the fountain. He threw in a pocketful of change and made a wish…one he desperately hoped would come true, and soon. He sat still and silent, unmoving, his patience rewarded when a blue jay swooped in for a drink. Next, a hummingbird fluttered near a fuchsia plant, drawing life-giving nectar from its depths.

Finally, his need for more coffee prompted him to his feet. He jogged the remainder of the trail, surprised when he heard male laughter beyond the last turn.

“There you are! The kids saw your car when they woke up and looked for you. Enjoy your walk?”

“Very much. You have a beautiful property here.” So, she wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d spent the night in front of her company. Who was this guy?

“Carl, I’d like you to meet Luke Swanson. He owns Swanson’s Hardware here in town. Luke, this is Carl Anders, a very dear family friend.”

The men shook hands, sizing each other up. Carl winced at the status of family friend, but at least he belonged. Why did Poppy invite the man out here to visit? This was her private haven, after all.

“Luke came by to see the fountain now that it’s all set up and working. The kids are eating breakfast in the kitchen if you’d care to join them. Your plate is in the oven.”

“Thank you, I think I will.” Although he didn’t want to leave her alone with the man, it wouldn’t do to seem overprotective or possessive. Besides, he was one of her clients. They might have business to discuss. He took the steps two at a time. “See you later,” he said before dashing through the kitchen door.

Nathan and Becky heard him coming and waited to ambush him just inside the door. They buddied up to wrestle him to the floor and he was certain their squeals of laughter carried two blocks away. Surely, it carried as far as the fountain and the two people walking in that direction, he hoped.

The thought had him pausing for a cognizant breath. He was jealous! The realization broadsided him. He was attracted to her but that didn’t give him the right to be jealous. Wanting to spend time with her, to know her better and see where it led… that was all well and good, but this? Was he already in over his head?

Playtime over, he grabbed his plate from the oven and demolished the ham, eggs and toast in record time. He poured another cup of coffee and stood at the kitchen window, watching for their return. They should’ve been back by now. It didn’t take that long to walk to the fountain and back.

Becky tugged at his pant leg. He crouched beside her and asked, “What can I do for you, little lady?”

She giggled adorably, her pigtails bouncing with the motion. “Unca Carl, would you push me on the swing?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Where did your brother go?”

“Gone potty.”

He chuckled. “Should we wait for him?”

“Nope.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the back door.

He wasn’t complaining. He’d been trying to think of an excuse to go back outside that wouldn’t seem too obvious. Busy pushing Becky on the swing, he almost missed Poppy’s appearance as she rounded the turn on Luke’s arm.

What the heck? They were deep in conversation, seemingly oblivious to anyone else’s presence. Becky’s squeals of delight drowned out the conversation and for a split second, he considered shushing her. Then, shaking his head in frustration, turned back for another push and almost collided with the swing as Nathan came running and under-ducked it, whooshing it backwards.

“Whoa, Nathan! That’s too high.”

“Nah! She loves swinging high.”

Carl reached out to slow the swing, uncertain as to just how tight a three-year-old could hold on. Not tight enough. As the swing came down, Becky fell off, right into his waiting arms. She turned into his chest, sobbing in reaction to the fright.

“Wow! Good save!” shouted Nathan, drawing his mother’s attention.

She rushed over. “Carl, what happened?”

He gave Nathan a stern look. “Something that will never be repeated again, right Nathan?”

Nathan grudgingly consented as he kept his head down, scuffing the toes of his sneakers in the sand surrounding the play structure. “Right, Uncle Carl.”

“Is she all right?” Poppy asked, coming closer to brush the hair back off her daughter’s face.

“She’ll be fine. Got quite a fright but it could’ve been worse.”

“Nathan, explain. Now!” Poppy stated in a firm, no-nonsense voice.

“I pushed-ded the swing too high and Becky fell off, but Uncle Carl caught her,” he said, a hopeful look in his eye as he finished the sentence.

“Nathan, go to your room and think on the consequences of your actions. I’ll be up in fifteen minutes to mete out your punishment and you better have a good one ready or I’ll think up something.”

“Yes, Mommy,” he said, “But I knew Uncle Carl would catch her.”

“That’s not the point. Now go!”

As he ran to the house the clearing of a throat behind them caught their attention.

“Luke, I’m sorry to desert you like that. Can we finish our conversation later?’

“Certainly, just promise me you’ll think about what I’ve said,” Luke replied as he stared at Carl and seemed to dislike him holding Becky.

“Of course I will. You’ve become a dear friend and I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I’ll show you out.”

Carl watched, bewildered, as she led Luke through the side gate. Becky’s sobs had quieted and she’d fallen asleep in his arms. Poor little mite. There’s nothing like a good scare to get the adrenaline pumping only to come down on a wave of fatigue. He carried her inside, laid her gently on the bed, removed her shoes, and tucked her in before returning downstairs.

He found Poppy in the kitchen, washing up the breakfast dishes. He grabbed a cup towel and started drying.

“Thanks for saving Becky from a nasty fall.”

“I’m just glad I was in position to catch her. To fall off backwards like that could’ve had disastrous results.”

Poppy’s face paled. “Backwards? How could that happen? How did you come to be there?”

“Becky dragged me outside to push her on the swing. I got distracted for a moment and that’s when Nathan came flying under it from the other side. The swing went too high and Becky couldn’t hold on. I caught her. End of story.”

“Oh my God! If she’d landed on her head she could have broken her neck.” Poppy started to tremble from the shock of the near escape.

“Shhh!” he said as he hauled her into his arms. “She’s okay. No harm done and I don’t think Nathan will pull that stunt again.”

“Do you think he did it on purpose?’

“Why on earth would you think that? Nathan is a fine boy, a little over exuberant perhaps, but I don’t think he’d intentionally set out to harm his sister.”

“Maybe he was jealous.”

“Nonsense! He’s just a little boy.”

“A little boy who needs a man’s attention.”

“Perhaps. If that’s the way of it, he’ll get plenty of attention this summer. They both will.”

“Thanks, Carl. I’d better go speak with Nathan now.”

“Try not to allow your fear to set the punishment too harsh.”

She straightened her shoulders and gave him a level stare. “I think I know how to handle my own children.”

Whomp! He felt the words as a direct hit to his solar plexus. Apparently, she wasn’t open to advice on parenting. Hell, what did he know about it? The only children he’d ever been around were Nathan and Becky, but he
had
been a child once. That should count for something.

He finished washing and drying the dishes, changed into his sweats and struck out for a belated morning jog.

***

Nathan sat on his bed, his back propped up against the headboard when she entered his room. Not wanting to appear too soft, she sat on the chair in the corner instead of perching on the side of his bed as she usually did.

“Why, Nathan? What made you push Becky so high?”

“I only wanted to play with them.”

“Uncle Carl would have pushed you on the other swing. Why didn’t you ask instead of barging ahead like you did?”

“They went without me.”

“Where were you?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Were you angry because they left without waiting for you?”

He nodded and picked at a ball of fuzz stuck to the bedspread.

“Do you realize that Becky could have been hurt real bad?”

Nathan’s head jerked up in alarm. “But Uncle Carl was there. He caught her.”

“Yes, and I’m thankful he did catch her, otherwise we could be having this conversation at the hospital. Understand?”

He nodded again. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

“I know you are, but don’t let anything like this happen again. If you’re angry, talk to someone about it. Don’t act carelessly. Next time, someone might end up hurt.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“Have you decided on a consequence for your behavior?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What is it?”

“I need to ‘pologize to Becky,” he said.

“And?”