by Cassie Hayes
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.
“Last year at this time, I yearned to be with my family, but only to prove to them that I was worthy of love. But with all of you, I have nothing to prove. You love me for who I am, and you give that love freely, without restrictions. It may have taken me a while, but I now realize that you are the only family I need or want in my life. Thank you.”
Turning to Poppy, he pulled her into his arms, pulling her close to him and gazing into her eyes until her insides felt as wobbly as a newborn colt.
“Poppy, a little over a year ago, we changed each others’ lives. Since then, you’ve become a teacher, a missionary, a dressmaker, and a part-time nurse at my office in town. When our contracts are up at the mission, I think we’re both looking forward to dedicating ourselves to the practice, but I have no illusions that you will abandon all your other passions, nor would I want you to. Honestly, I can’t wait to find out what your next role will be.”
The love coming off him in waves made her want to melt into a puddle but she couldn’t help g
rinning up at him as he brushed a wayward lock from her forehead.
“I can tell you what role that will be right now,” she said, with a laugh. “Mother.”
For the second time that night, you could hear a pin drop on carpet.
“Mother?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.
At her happy nod, he whisked her into a spin around the room, laughing and crying at the same time. They were both too overcome to speak, so Vladimir took over.
“What joyous night for us all. Let us drink to love and health! Vashe zrodovye!”
Matthew picked up his glass of vodka but handed Poppy a mug of wassail with a wink.
“To love!”
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THANK YOU for buying and reading this book! If you enjoyed it, I would be honored if you would leave a review to help others discover it.
Poppy: Bride of Alaska is #49 in the unprecedented 50-book American Mail-Order Brides series.
If you enjoyed reading this book, there are 49 more in the series! Find out about the rest of the American Mail-Order Brides at www.NewWesternRomance.com.
A special thanks to Amy Petrowich for choosing a most excellent name for Edith Poppy Westchester, and April Turner for Matthew Turner! Would you like a chance to name a character in an upcoming book? Be sure to join my newsletter!
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About the Author
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cassie Hayes grew up pretending she was Laura Ingalls (before that pesky Almonzo arrived on the scene) in the middle of Oregon farm country. She lives with her husband and cat on the Pacific Ocean and loves to hear from her readers. Connect with her at:
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Copyright 2016 Cassie Hayes
www.CassieHayes.com
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
The cover art for this book makes use of licensed stock photography. All photography is for illustrative purposes only and all persons depicted are models.
