Poppy: Bride of Alaska (American Mail-Order Bride 49) (12 page)

“I was playing with Dog when he ran into the street. The man was driving his wagon too fast. He was gonna run over Dog so I kicked him out of the way and banged my arm on the wagon. ”

Alexander sniffled and looked up to Matthew with pleading, tear-filled eyes.
 

“You don’t think he’ll hate me now, do you, Dr. Turner? I only did it to save him.”

Poppy leaned in, smoothing hair from his brow.

 
“Of course, he won’t hate you, Alexander,” she said. “Why, I bet silly ol’ Dog is planning a parade for you right now for saving his life. Wouldn’t that be something?”

The boy smiled weakly.

“Now let the doctor fix you up, okay? You don’t want to miss your parade.”

Poppy’s way with children never failed to impress him.
 

“Poppy, could you find me some clean cloths and a pan of water?”

With a curt nod, she was off collecting what he asked for, and then some, almost anticipating his needs. Together, with the help of Vinchenko, they got the boy’s shirt off and his muddy upper body cleaned. Relief washed over him that his broken arm wasn’t a compound fracture. After the shock and fear from the accident had worn off, he barely winced as Matthew palpated his forearm. That was a good sign.
 

“Well, son, it looks like your arm is broken. The good news is that it doesn’t need setting. The bad news is that you’ll have to wear it in a sling for a good long while to allow it to heal. And no rough-housing with Dog in the street anymore, got it?”

Alexander nodded, the tears drying. Vladimir stuck a big paw out to Matthew, his tears still streaming down his weathered cheeks.
 

“
Spasibo
, Matthew. Thank you for helping him. I thought…”

His voice cracked and he blinked back more tears. Poppy threw her arms around him and let the man sob into her shoulder. Spasms of jealousy clenched Matthew’s abdomen in an unpleasant way. Of course, he knew there was nothing romantic between the two, but they’d become very close in a short period of time. He was alarmed by how much she cared for the man, and how she trusted him implicitly. She didn’t trust
any
man.
 

“I have an idea,” she said when Vladimir got himself under control. “How about I make dinner for everyone at Vladimir and Alexander’s tonight? Alexander will be the guest of honor, of course, since he’s the town’s newest hero. Maybe even Dog could join us?”

She shot a look at Vladimir who nodded vigorously, still sniffling. Her smile lit up her face — the whole room, really — and an inexplicable gratitude washed over Matthew when she cast it in his direction.

“It’s a date!”

Grace comes in many forms, but that night it came in the form of Poppy. After working at the Rancherie all day, she whipped up a delicious salmon stew for the five of them, including moist cornbread and a bread pudding as delicious as any Matthew had ever eaten. And all of it was done with a cheerful smile and hardly a hair out of place. She was nothing like the women back in Boston and, to his surprise, he was glad for it.

“Poopy, you fine cook,” Vladimir said, rubbing his bulging belly. “Where you learn to cook like dat?”

Poppy smiled at the praise as she cleared the table.
 

“I learned a lot from my mother, of course. She had to make due with very little all my life. I guess some of her creativity rubbed off on me. And my old roommate Sarah taught me so many wonderful recipes. But the credit for the stew goes to Savak-tla down at the Rancherie. It’s not as good as hers, of course, but I’m going to keep trying till I get it right.”

“My auntie’s stew is good, too,” Alexander chimed in. The boy looked tired but his color was good after gobbling down a big bowl of the stew. “Maybe you could come visit her with me sometime.”

“I’d like that very much, Alexander. Thank you for the invitation.” She glowed as if she’d been invited to meet the Queen of England.

Eddie labored to her feet and picked up a dish.
 

“Well, I guess it’s time for this old lady to earn her keep,”

“Thank you, Eddie. Maybe Alexander the Great has enough energy to bring a few dishes into the kitchen as well.”

The boy jumped up and started clearing, Dog following so closely he almost tripped. So much for the mutt hating him.

Vladimir led Matthew to a small sitting area and poured him a drink. Vodka, not ‘wood-ka’, as he’d eventually discovered. It wasn’t fine Scotch, but it would do.
 

“Thank you again for helping Alexander today, Matthew. I was so scared. Alexander everything to me, like my own son.”

The grave concern etched on the man’s face made Matthew wonder how his own father would have reacted. Annoyed, probably.

“You’re a good father, Vladimir.” Matthew winced at the bitterness in his own voice. Vladimir’s shrewd gaze narrowed.

“Matthew, you know your father love you. He just…he not know how to show it.”

Matthew wasn’t so sure about that.
 

“I could never please him. He pushed and pushed and no matter how well I performed — in school, in society, in life — it wasn’t good enough. I’ve spent my whole life trying to please a man who will never be satisfied. You know I came here because I thought…”

His throat seized up, unable to confess his true reason for seeking out revenge on an innocent man.

“Tell me,” Vladimir urged, the very image of a patient, loving father.
 

Clearing his throat, he tried again.
 

“It wasn’t the money. I mean, it was, but the money wasn’t what I really wanted. I thought if I could somehow retrieve our fortune that he’d finally be proud of me.”

Pain clenched his chest, but a weight lifted from his shoulders. He’d never admitted that to anyone, never thought he could.
 

“What an idiot I am! To yearn so much for the approval of a man who didn’t deserve it himself.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their vodka and staring into the roaring fire. Under different circumstances, it would have been a pleasant moment, but anger at himself and his father burned hot inside his heart.
 

“Matthew, fathers not angels. They just men, like all of us. They make mistakes. Your father…always good man. So proud of his children, loved his wife. Spoke only good things about you, at least to me. But he have demons, your father. Sometimes demons too strong.”

“But what about his family? He betrayed us. How am I supposed to forgive that? How can
you
?”

Vladimir flicked his dark gaze from the fire over to Matthew.
 

“Anger is fire. Longer you hold on, more you get burned. It eat you alive, unless you let go.
Da
, I very mad for short while. But I remember what good friend Caleb was to me for many years, and I forgive. Not forget, but forgive. Only way to live happy, Matthew.”

Forgiving his father seemed impossible, but as he sat staring into the flickering flames, Vladimir’s words sank in. The sad truth of the matter was that he loved his father, no matter his sins. Another sad truth was that if Matthew hadn’t earned his love and respect by now, he never would. And maybe Vladimir was right, that his father was proud of him but just didn’t know how to express it. How hard would it have been to say, ‘I love you, son, and I want you to be happy’?

When was the last time he’d been happy, anyway? Attending grand parties had always been a chore, one that he pretended to enjoy for the sake of propriety — to make his parents happy. All the superficial glamour of high society confounded him. Compared to what he’d seen in his travels to find Vladimir, it was all so pointless. Just a bunch of conceited fools acting as if they were all better than each other. It never ended.

The only time he could remember feeling genuinely satisfied with his life was at school, when he was away from his family. Why had he never made that connection before? And if he was so miserable at home, why was he so anxious to get back?
 

“To confront him,” he mumbled. Vinchenko raised a bushy eyebrow but stayed silent, allowing Matthew to think.

Deep in his soul, he simply wanted to yell at his father, to chastise him, to prove to the man that he was no better — if not worse — than the son he didn’t respect. How disappointing to discover such a petty side to his personality. He thought he was a better man than that.

It’s time to become that man.

A flash of blue caught his eye but when he turned, nothing was there. Only the wish that Poppy had been standing there, smiling at him with a warmth that would set the house ablaze. But that would never be. They’d become friends, certainly, but she’d made it very clear there would be nothing more between them. He sighed from the bottom of his toes.

“I kept thinking I needed to get back to Boston to resume my life, but maybe there’s nothing there for me anymore.”

Vladimir bobbed his head thoughtfully.

“But I’m not sure if I can have what I want here.” He didn’t dare say the words out loud. Once he did that, there would be no turning back for him.
 

Vladimir swallowed the last of his vodka and leaned back in his hand-carved chair, a smile twitching his mouth.
 

“Matthew, if I learn anything in life, it that you never know how things will turn out. Patience, my friend.”

* ~ * ~ *

Poppy tiptoed away from the wall hiding her from view and hurried back to the kitchen. It wasn’t as if she’d meant to eavesdrop on Matthew and Vladimir’s conversation — she’d only been retrieving a wayward bowl — but when they started talking about fathers, she couldn’t stop herself.

Vladimir’s words about letting go of the anger sank into her soul, drawing tears to her eyes. For as long as she could remember, she felt nothing but hate for her father. She’d nursed that emotion and built up walls around her heart, denying entry to all but a select few women who’d proved themselves worthy. It was exhausting, always being so vigilant.

But since arriving in Sitka, she’d felt lighter, more open, like a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Not only had she made friends with a few teachers at school, but Eddie was almost like a grandmother to her, not to mention Vladimir and Matthew. Sure, she and Matthew had started out rough, but he’d behaved like a perfect gentleman since his apology. And Vladimir…he was the father she’d always prayed for.

Searching her heart as she entered the kitchen, Poppy wondered where all the hate for her father had gone. All she felt for him was pity. She’d never be able to say she loved him, but she no longer hated him and that felt so completely liberating.
 

Eddie looked up from where she sat perched on a stool drying dishes.

“You know, an old lady like me could get used to eating like we did tonight. You should move in with me. I rattle around that big ol’ place like a marble in a maze.”
 

Alexander lay sleeping on the floor near the stove, using Dog as a pillow. The mutt looked happier than a pig in mud at being allowed inside the house for the first time. Poppy had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

“Why are you chewing on your lip like that?” She didn’t know all the details of Poppy’s unfortunate life, but she was sharp enough to guess the important parts.
 

“I think…I don’t hate my father anymore.”

“Oh?” She gave Poppy a shrewd look.

“I’m not going to write him a love letter or anything, and I’m still going to send for my mother as soon as I can, but I think I’ve let go of all the pain he’s caused in my life. I didn’t even know it until…until just a moment ago.”

When you were eavesdropping.

A smile bloomed on Eddie’s face, making her look half her age — which was still older than her mother.
 

“That’s wonderful to hear, child. Now maybe you can move on and realize that not all men are like him.” She paused until Poppy met her rheumy gaze. “Because they’re not.”

She knew that, but suspicion was a hard habit to break, especially after being proven right so often. But in the other room sat two men who were unlike any she’d ever known. She’d already chosen to trust Vladimir when she asked for his help with her clothing effort, but Matthew… Trusting him would mean exposing her heart in a way she’d never dared.

“Mmhmm,” she replied noncommittally.

“Poppy, men are like stars.” Eddie placed the last bowl on the kitchen queen to be put away and gave her a gentle look. “There are plenty of them out there, and the good Lord knows some are brighter than others. But there’s only one who can make your dreams come true.”

Could Matthew be that one? She’d resigned herself to a solitary life in the tenements, never truly believing her dreams of traveling Alaska and leaving her old life behind could ever come true. But they did, and all because of Matthew.
 

When the man himself rounded the corner, her heart skipped a beat. His smile nearly made her knees buckle. She clutched at the sink behind her for support, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered she was.

“Ready, Poppy? Tomorrow’s a school day and we still need to take Mrs. Westchester home.”

“Nonsense,” Eddie sniffed, waving a dismissive hand at him. “Vlad can see me home, can’t you, Vlad?”

Vladimir shot a confused look at Eddie who shot him a stern one right back. Something flickered in his eyes before answering, “
Da
.”
 

Poppy flushed at their blatant attempt to get her and Matthew together. They’d been pulling stunts like this almost since they arrived in Sitka, which didn’t irritate her half as much as the realization that it actually seemed to be working. On her, at least.

“And Matt, I’ve told you a dozen times, call me Eddie. Mrs. Westchester was my mother-in-law.” Her overly exaggerated shudder let everyone in the room know exactly what she thought about that.

“Very well,
Eddie
. Thank you for having us, Vladimir, and for the talk. It was…good. Night, Alexander!”