Poppy: Bride of Alaska (American Mail-Order Bride 49) (15 page)

Sunset had fallen during the short time they were inside, and all that was visible out the open door was a wall of white falling in a dark sky. Drifts swirled in the wind that hadn’t been blowing when he arrived. In Boston, they’d call it a blizzard. Was it the same in Sitka, or was it just a storm? Whatever its name, it offered him exactly what he needed.
 

Stepping just outside the door, he laid Kukka in the already-deep snow, scooping the stuff over his entire body while supporting his head above it all. When the snow stopped falling on the boy’s face, even though it continued to fall all around them, he looked up to find Poppy holding a large skin over them, protecting them from the weather. He gave her a grateful smile but her expression remained stony.

The wind picked up, howling through the eaves of the village like a wild demon looking for a victim. Well, it would have to get through Matthew Turner before taking Kukka. This moment was why he’d been born, he felt it in his bones. Caring for people, saving their lives, making a difference. He felt whole.

Minutes passed like hours until Matthew couldn’t risk giving the shivering boy frostbite any longer. Inside, he settled Kukka near the door, just in case his fever spiked again, and left him to the tender care of his mother.
 

Even if he could find his way through the snow, he wouldn’t leave until Kukka was awake and alert, which he guessed would be a long time coming. But the boy had responded to the medicine and Matthew had little doubt he would recover.
 

Scanning the room, he found Poppy crouching alone near the fire, warming her hands. She refused to meet his gaze when he approached, instead staring deep into the flames, no doubt wishing he was in the center of the conflagration.

“You’re soaked to the bone,” he said, shucking his coat and wrapping it around her shivering shoulders. She ignored him.

Sighing, he settled on the floor next to her.
 

“I take it you read my letter.”

Nothing.

“Poppy, I’m so sorry I hurt you. It was the last thing—“

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was as taut as a wire, her teeth clenched tight to keep them from chattering.

“The boy—“

“You left. You were on the ship. You were going back to where your heart lives, back to Boston.”
 

The words were a punch in the gut. Of course, she would think that. He’d given her no reason to think otherwise. Taking a deep breath, Matthew chose his words carefully before speaking again.

“It’s true that my intention was to leave Sitka forever. But the entire walk to the wharf, I couldn’t stop thinking of you, of how I let you down.” He rasped out a harsh chuckle. “I spent my entire life trying to gain my father’s respect. I did everything he expected of me, hoping that one day he would tell me how proud I made him. But I had it backward. I never once thought to wonder if
he
deserved
my
respect.”

He caught her sidelong glance and hope bloomed in his heart. At least she was listening.
 

“Then there’s you. You who came from nothing, worse than nothing, and you turned your life into something astonishing. And you’ve barely begun.
You
are someone to be respected, Poppy.
You
are the person I should be trying to make proud.”

Her shivers had eased but she still wouldn’t meet his gaze. The fire cast shadows across her face, highlighting the auburn in her damp tendrils. His heart ached at her beauty and the sorrow he saw in her. He’d never forgive himself for putting her through this turmoil. Picking her unresponsive, ice-cold hand from her lap, he held it in his own, letting his warmth seep into her.
 

“You’re wrong, you know.”

That drew a sharp glare, but at least she was reacting to him.
 

“You said that my heart lives in Boston. You’re wrong about that, Poppy. My heart lives wherever you live.” He pressed her fingers to his chest so she could feel the proof of his words. “And, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to live here in Sitka with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

She blinked in surprise and confusion, a furrow digging deep in her brow.
 

“But…your family…the ship…”

Matthew smiled, still holding her hand to his heart.
 

“I never set foot near the ship, other than to give the postmaster a hastily written letter to my mother. I told her that she would have to learn how to live within her means. My brothers are old enough to find positions, and it’s about time they took on some responsibility of their own. I loved my father, and I’m grieving his loss, but I told Mother that I would not be returning to Boston because I’ve started a new life in Alaska with my wife, whom I love with every fiber of my being.”

Tears sparkled in the flickering firelight as they trickled down Poppy’s cheek.
 

“Really?” she squeaked.
 

Tucking a finger under her chin, he tipped her face up toward his, drinking her in. Her lips parted slightly, an invitation if he’d ever seen one. Gently he brushed his mouth against hers, their hot breath mingling for a moment, then pulled back.

“Really. And I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Christmas Day, 1891

“Look what my crazy cousin Edna Blue sent up from Seattle on the last steamer,” Eddie announced, pulling a box of peppermint sticks from behind her back and passing it around.
 

They were all seated around her grand oak dining room table, babbling and laughing like a happy family from an issue of
Demorest’s Family Magazine
, even though Poppy was only related by blood to one person in the room.

“Molly,” Eddie continued, “Edna was so taken with you during your stay at her house this summer, that she sent along a special gift just for you. One of her famous hats!”

Poppy’s mother gasped in surprise, her eyes growing wide. Carefully, as if she didn’t want to scuff the beautiful hat box, she pulled the lid off and gasped again.

“Try it on, Mrs. Adams,” Alexander called out as he sneaked a bite of turkey to Dog under the table.

Blushing furiously, Ma perched the beautiful ladies’ steamer hat on her head with a shy smile. The dark blue fabric complemented her sable hair and pale complexion, while the sea green beads dangling from the brim perfectly matched her eyes. Feathers of blue and green shot out every which way, and a sweep of blue tulle fell down to her shoulders.

“I…I ain’t never had nothin’ so fine before.”
 

She moved to take it off but Vladimir, who was sitting next to her, stayed her hand.
 

“Leave it. You look beautiful, like Poopy’s sister.”

Ma turned an alarming shade of crimson, but smiled up at Vladimir from under her lashes. Since her arrival in July, the pair had been all but inseparable, and Ma had bloomed under his attentions. If ever a woman deserved love and joy in her life, it was Molly Adams.
 

A pang of sadness over the death of her father gave Poppy pause for a moment, but quickly passed. The day she received Ma’s letter — written by a neighbor girl — she cried and cried, unable to tell Matthew whether it was from grief or happiness. He was her father, for good or bad, and she supposed these mixed-up feelings of relief and sadness and guilt would stay with her for some time.
 

All she knew was that the small death benefit paid by the mill where he’d been killed was enough to get Ma out of Lawrence and all the way to Sitka, and for that, she would be forever grateful.
 

“Ma, I’ll make you a beautiful dress to match that hat and you’ll be the belle of Sitka.”

Ma shushed her but Vladimir smiled.

“You make wedding dress,
da?”

A hush fell over the room as if all the air had been sucked out of it. Only Dog could be heard whining for more table scraps. Ma blanched, a thin hand fluttering to her chest.
 

“What…?”

Vladimir pushed his chair back and lowered himself to one knee, the other popping loudly on the way down. Clutching her hand to his chest, he grinned up at her, his mustache taking over his entire face.

“My love, when dark come for me, you bring light. When I am low, you reach hand out to me and pull me up. I never think love will come to me but then you arrive and I am lost in you. Marry me.”

Poppy choked back a sob. The idea of her mother marrying one of her favorite people — not to mention her business partner — was almost more wonderful than she could bear. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she wasn’t the only one crying. Ma could barely whisper ‘yes’ through her own sobs of joy, and tears were dripping off the ends of Vladimir’s mustache. Even Eddie was sniffling at the head of the table.

“I think this calls for a round of ‘woodka’, Vlad,” Eddie said, breaking up the hugging couple. “You go get the hooch and I’ll round up the glasses. Matthew, why don’t you also bring in a round of wassail. We’ll meet up in the sitting room.”

As they all dispersed, Ma pulled Poppy off to the side, a pleading look in her eyes.

“Poppy, dear, you okay with this? I know Vladimir is your partner and all…”

“Ma, stop. I’ve never wanted anything more than for you to be as happy as you are now. Pa was a horrible man, and sometimes it pains me that I was related to him. Vladimir is the father I’d always wished and prayed for, and now he really
will
be my father. I couldn’t be happier.”

Relief washed over Ma’s delicate features and she hugged her daughter tight to her chest.
 

“In fact,” Poppy continued, pulling her mother’s locket from around her neck, “I want you to have this back. Maybe you can add your new husband’s hair to whomever’s is already in there.”

Ma held the locket in her hand reverently, grazing her fingertips over its plain, tarnished surface. When she looked up, Poppy’s breath caught in her chest at her pained expression.

“Poppy, I don’t know how to…I was young and…”

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

Her mother nodded miserably. “He was my first love. Kind and funny and handsome. But he died at the factory we worked at before we could get married.”

“That’s why you could never bear to be without it.” She’d suspected something like that all along. It was somehow comforting to know that Ma had been well-loved at one time.

“There’s somethin’ else.” Her gaze darted away and she started chewing her lip. That must have been where Poppy learned it from. “That man, Chester his name was, well…he was your real father.”

All the blood drained from Poppy’s face and the only thing she could do was gape at her mother in shock. Her father…
wasn’t
her father? All those years wishing for that very thing and now her dream was coming true?

“After Chester passed and I discovered you were comin’ along, I married the first man who’d take on someone like me. He knew all along, ‘course, but I think that’s why he was such a brute.”

Finally getting her senses back, Poppy said, “No, Ma, he was who he was. None of it was your fault. None of it. And he was lucky to have you, so don’t you dare think otherwise, you hear?”

Ma smiled and nodded, stroking the lock of hair. Snapping it shut, she slid it back into Poppy’s palm, covering it with her own hand.
 

“I ain’t got no need for this no more, dear. Chester and I had young love, crazy and reckless. I needed to remember that when I was with your…with Carl.

“With Vladdy, I dunno. It feels all warm and cozy, y’know? Like sipping on hot cocoa in front of a fire. I like that better. ‘Sides, that’s the only thing you have from your real pa. You keep it close to your heart cuz I know he wudda loved ya so much.”

With tears in her eyes, Poppy followed her mother into the sitting room, where everyone was waiting for them. She snuggled in close to Matthew on a loveseat and accepted the small glass of vodka he handed to her. At his questioning look, she smiled a reassurance that all was fine. Better than fine, really.

“I’d just like to say a few words before we toast to Vladimir and Molly’s long and happy marriage,” Matthew said, standing. “It’s been a long, wonderful year since we first arrived in Sitka. I never thought I’d still be here, but I’m so grateful that I am.

“Eddie, you graciously invited Poppy and myself, and then Molly, into your home, and we couldn’t be happier here at Chez Westchester. Your wit and spunk challenge me daily, and I will be forever grateful that you and Vladimir couldn’t keep your big noses out of our romance. Thank you.”

Eddie’s nose twitched and she gave him a curt nod, pretending like his words weren’t about to make her cry.

“Vladimir, when I came here, you were my enemy. I reviled you, even attacked you, yet you kindly showed me where I’d gone wrong. You welcomed me as a friend despite all this, and you have become more of a father to me than my own ever was.”

Vladimir hadn’t stopped crying from when he proposed to Poppy’s mother, and the tears just flowed faster.

“Now you and my talented wife have a thriving enterprise making high-fashion apparel for the local townspeople, as well as still supplying much-needed clothing for the Tlingits at the Rancherie for free. Your generosity knows no bounds.”
 

“Alexander, my friend. You are so energetic, intelligent and full of love. I have no doubt you — with Dog by your side — will do great things with your life, and I’m looking forward to seeing it all unfold.”

Alexander jumped up and hugged Matthew around the waist. “I love you, too, Uncle Matt!”

“Molly, you’ve given me the greatest gift I could ever hope for. Your daughter. But having you in my life has also been a gift. When you first came to us, I was afraid the harsh life here might be too much for your frail state. But I needn’t have worried. You’ve thrived in a way that proves your immense strength. I’m so proud to call you ‘mother’.”

Ma grasped Vladimir’s hand and held on tight, grinning through her tears.