Poppy: Bride of Alaska (American Mail-Order Bride 49) (3 page)

She probably should have been offended at his shocked expression, but she very nearly brayed like a donkey. What, had he expected a fairy tale princess to reply to his oh-so-tempting advertisement? There was a reason she was the only woman to respond, after all, but she kept her big mouth shut on the subject…for the moment. Instead, she just smiled at him, which seemed to confuse him even more.
 

This was going to be fun.

“I—uh, I—“ Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, Matthew composed himself quickly. “I’m a doctor, Miss…I mean, Poppy.”

“No wonder that charity wants you to go to Alaska. They probably need all the doctors they can get up thataway.”

Just then, the waiter delivered their meals. The last decent meal she’d had was several weeks earlier, before the fire. Nearly all thoughts of her Alaska adventure were forgotten when the aroma of the sizzling steak and creamy mashed potatoes hit her nose.
 

Only one remained, worming its way into her brain like a parasite:
Bet they don’t need seamstresses.

* ~ * ~ *

“Dr. and Mrs. Turner, please come in!”

Mr. Horton, the director of the YMCA, had been very kind and helpful to Matthew after his unpleasant arrival in Seattle. He’d even secured him a temporary position with the organization assisting their on-staff doctor. It didn’t pay much, but Matthew was grateful for any income at that point, hoarding every penny he could.

“First of all, welcome to Seattle,” Horton said to Poppy, who appeared decidedly more fresh this morning. “And congratulations on your nuptials. I hope you’ve recovered from your train trip.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling in a way that set Matthew’s heart to beating just a jot faster. She really was quite beautiful, when not dressed in rags and reeking of train smoke. “My dear husband knew I would be exhausted from the long journey so he thoughtfully rented me a room at that lovely boarding house down the street. Mrs. Olson even surprised me with a much-needed hot bath. Let me tell you, I had dirt in places I didn’t even know I had!”

Horton’s face flamed red at Poppy’s comment, which she was apparently oblivious to. Matthew wasn’t sure if he should be angry or amused, then settled on chagrined, if only for Horton’s benefit.
 

“Forgive her, Mr. Horton. She’s still tired from the trip.”

“No, I’m not,” she protested, but quieted when he placed a hand on hers and squeezed. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed. A tingle whispered through Matthew when her thumb moved lightly across the skin of his pinky, almost as if she were stroking it.
 

Must have been a twitch
, he thought. Still, he didn’t remove his hand.

“Oh, not at all,” Horton coughed, composing himself in the face of such frankness. “So I take it you have something for me?”

Loathe as he was to do it, Matthew pulled his hand from Poppy’s and slid their marriage certificate to Horton. He still couldn’t believe he’d had to resort to marrying a total stranger just to find Vinchenko, but he’d promised himself to do whatever it took. He had enough saved to set up Poppy for a month at Mrs. Olson’s, as he’d promised, and this time tomorrow, he’d be on the steamship bound for Sitka.
 

“Everything looks in order, then,” Horton beamed, passing the certificate back and pulling a stack of papers from a drawer. “Now Matthew, you’re already signed on as a doctor. Mrs. Turner, we just need to assign you a position.”

“A position?” Matthew asked. “What do you mean?”

Horton looked positively perplexed.
 

“Why, for when you get to Sitka, of course. If we’re paying her passage, she needs to be on the rolls as
something
. ‘Beautiful wife’, while it may be true, is not a qualified position in our organization.”
 

Poppy opened her mouth to speak but Matthew cut her off.
 

“I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding, Mr. Horton. My wife will not be accompanying me on this trip. She will remain here until my return.”

“I will do no such thing!”

Matthew spun to face Poppy. Her normally bright blue eyes flashed dark, and the cute little wrinkle between her eyebrows was back, but looking much less adorable in her anger.
 

“Of course, you will. That was understood from the very beginning.”

 
Matthew shot his eyes over toward Horton, silently reminding her to not mention the whole mail-order bride thing. Her steely gaze never wavered from his, and her voice was just as cold and hard.
 

“No, quite the opposite. I was promised a voyage to Alaska, and I intend to have it.”

Matthew could only stare agape as she turned to Horton with a conspiratorial smile.
 

“I’ve always longed to see the territory, ever since reading John Muir’s wonderful tales of his adventures. Now, Mr. Horton. I would like to offer my talents in whatever position would benefit the YMCA the most.”

Horton laughed awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable at their spat.
 

“Oh, this isn’t for the Y, Mrs. Turner. I happen to be on the board of directors for the Presbyterian Home Mission Board, a ministry run by Sheldon Jackson himself, that supplies doctors, teachers, wilderness missionaries and so on. Doctors are obviously in desperate need, as are teachers, so we’re very grateful that your husband has agreed to tend to the communities needs for so long.”

“So long?”
 

“Two years, the length of the contract.”

Matthew felt more than saw Poppy’s keen eyes slide over to him before capturing Horton again.
 

“I see. Well, you can sign me on as a teacher then.”

Horton was so giddy at snaring a ‘teacher’ that he didn’t notice Matthew’s sudden coughing fit. Poppy refused to meet his gaze. What was she playing at? She was a
seamstress
, for heaven’s sake.
 

His mind raced, thinking back to his ad. He’d taken great pains to be perfectly clear about his intentions; what had she misunderstood? Then it hit him like a lightning bolt.
 

In need of a wife in name only to travel to Sitka, Alaska.
 

He’d meant that he needed a wife so
he
could travel to Alaska, not that he needed the wife to travel, too. She couldn’t possibly think—
 

Then he recalled:
Passage paid for the right match.

Cold seeped into his bones. Viewed from her perspective, the ad
could
have been offering a trip to Alaska.
 

Poppy fairly glowed as Horton described Sitka and what her duties would be there. A light pink blush had settled on her cheeks and her plump lips were parted a bit in excitement. Already he’d memorized every line and curve of them, including the slightly puffy spot she chewed when she was anxious. Only when he caught himself wetting his own lips did he tear his gaze away.

See? That was just the problem. How could he expect to maintain the fiery hate burning in his heart if he was so easily distracted by the set of her mouth? He couldn’t afford to be swayed from his quest to track down Vinchenko, and being responsible for a fake wife — especially this one — would be
very
distracting.

No! He wouldn’t allow it. As her husband, he had ultimate say whether she joined him. It would be an easy thing to convince Horton that a steamer bound for the brutal wilds of Alaska in winter was no place for a woman.
 

Trouble was, she had him trapped, and the sly glance she threw his way told him that she knew it. If he said one word, he had no doubt that she would reveal their secret, throwing his character into question and jeopardizing his plan. Most likely, Horton would evict
and
fire him, leaving him homeless and penniless — and all that much farther from catching up with Vinchenko.

He couldn’t risk it, as much as he’d like to show the little troublemaker who was boss in this strange partnership of theirs. A shiver rippled down his spine when a voice inside his head whispered…

She is.

The moment they walked out of the Y into the drizzling rain, Matthew gripped Poppy’s arm. Not painfully, as Pa had done more times than she could count, but firmly. That familiar constriction of her throat was no longer welcome in her life. Shrugging his hand off, she spun on him.

“Don’t ever lay your hands on me again, do you understand?”
 

Confusion poured from Matthew’s hazel eyes, but she wouldn’t relent. Never again would she allow anyone to manhandle her, not even her ‘husband’. His raised hands conceded defeat.

“Did I hurt you?”

Just as quickly as the fire had risen, his words quenched it.
 

“No, I’m fine. I just…I just don’t like to be grabbed like that.”

“I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

They walked a few steps before he spoke again.

“Now, do you want to tell me what that was all about back there? I never meant for you to come with me. The journey will be quite rough, you know. Don’t you think you’d be better off here in Seattle?”

Poppy tried not to smirk. It was so cute how he was trying to sell her on staying behind. But she had no intention of living in Seattle, as much as she liked the city.
 

“You hate it here, and you’d have me stay?”
 

He had no response. They walked on in silence for another block. The rain had already soaked her threadbare coat and she could barely restrain her shivers.
 

“See? If you’re shivering now, what kind of protection will that coat give in Alaska?!”

Good grief, would he stop at nothing to make her change her mind?
 

“Good thing I don’t have to rely on this then. While you were fuming next to me, Mr. Horton kindly advanced me five dollars to buy winter clothes. You really should pay more attention, Matthew.”

“An advance on your salary as a
teacher
. You told me you were a seamstress.”

Guilt over her deception flushed Poppy’s face. She’d about had her fill of lies, but worse was the thought of being left behind because she didn’t have a skill the ministry needed. Besides, who was he to talk?
 

“I could be a teacher! And what about you? The contract is for two years but you’ve plainly said that you’ll be returning to Boston as soon as your ‘business’ is done. I may not be educated,
dear
, but I’m smart enough to know that you’re as big a liar as me!”

He stopped mid-stride, fists on his hips.
 

“Now see here!”

“No,
you
see here,” she interrupted, finger wagging in his handsome, frustrated face. “Your ad said you needed a wife to go to Alaska. We had a deal. I don’t know why you don’t want me to go, and I don’t really care.”

He was about to argue but she cut him off again.
 

“As I said in my letter, I have no wish to be a burden on you. In fact, you don’t even have to speak to me once we board that steamer. But I
will
be boarding that steamer tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

Matthew’s glare warmed her in a way that startled her. There was an intensity there that one wouldn’t normally see in the prim and proper facade he put on. It was that intensity, not the anger, that stirred something deep inside. If only he’d show it more often…

“Now, I have some shopping to do and I’m going to guess you don’t want to join me, so if you’ll kindly tell me what time the steamer leaves in the morning, we can part ways for the rest of the day.”

Raking a hand through his short hair, Matthew grunted in exasperation.
 

“You’re the most annoying, bull-headed, mouthy…” With a deep sigh, he shook his head. It was the sound of defeat, and music to Poppy’s ears. “Ten o’clock at Colman Dock.”

“Fine. See you then!”

Poppy nearly skipped away, moving lightly and pretending the argument hadn’t bothered her. But inside, her stomach roiled around as if she’d eaten bad chicken. It seemed her whole life was made up of one fight after another, and she was tired of it. Bone tired. All she wanted was to live the rest of her life in peace, alone.

Pushing the stressful moments aside, she daydreamed about what her life in Sitka would be like. An image of a small cabin on the outskirts of town took form in her head. Smoke curled up from the stone chimney and a warm light glowed from the windows. Pine trees grew so densely around her homestead that barely a speck of snow could penetrate the thick canopy. But it was far from gloomy; rather, it felt protected…cozy.

Inside, a small bed in one corner was covered with a hand-sewn quilt made from whatever scraps she came across. A fire blazed under a pot of steaming stew that sent tendrils of mouthwatering smells to every corner. Herbs hung from the rafters, drying but also adding a delicious fragrance to the air. It was perfect.

She would surround herself with friends. Hopefully they would be as wonderful as her old roommates back in Lawrence. There were no hard feelings toward Roberta, Sarah and Gabrielle. They had to look after themselves and she wished them well with their new husbands, but their leaving Lawrence had been a hard blow. She couldn’t help remembering their last moments together.

“I’m so sorry to leave you like this, Poppy, but…”

“Nonsense, Roberta,” Poppy told her best friend and now-former roommate. “You, Sarah and Gabrielle are starting new lives. I’m happy for you. That man you chose up in Wisconsin had better treat you right, or he’ll have me to answer to!”

“But what are you going to do?”

Worry was etched into Roberta’s pretty features. She was the factory’s manager before it burned down, and she’d always taken her responsibilities very seriously. She was the mother hen to all of them.
 

“I’ll be fine at Ma and Pa’s till I find work.” Poppy shrugged nonchalantly, but her friends knew better than anyone else in the world what moving back to her parents’ home would mean.