Poppy: Bride of Alaska (American Mail-Order Bride 49) by Cassie Hayes Page A

being, but time had a way of doing that to people.  
    The man laughed and called to the boy, waving him inside. It was awfully cold out, but the chill wasn’t what caused a shiver to race up Matthew’s spine and straight to his heart. It was the gritty growl thick with a Russian accent that Matthew would never forget.
    He’d found Vladimir Vinchenko.

Chapter 6

    Several round faces the color of bronze peeked at the new arrivals from behind the safety of a wall. Curiosity turned their dark eyes into saucers as they tracked Poppy and Matthew’s every step. At her smile, one ducked away and three continued to stare, stoic and unimpressed. But the tentative smile on one boy’s sweet face warmed her heart.  
    “You boys go back to your classroom,” Mrs. Austin commanded. The boys disappeared but the echo of their feet on the polished wood of the main building’s floor followed their path. “This is the way to the married couples’ quarters.”
    Poppy’s stomach lurched at the words. She’d spent so much time on the ship ignoring Matthew that she hadn’t thought about what their situation would be once they arrived in Sitka. How foolish! Of course they would put happy newlyweds in the same room. How could she possibly ask for separate rooms now? There had been no one on the ship they needed to fool, but here…
    A quick glance at Matthew gave her pause. He looked angry. But why? Did the thought of sharing a room with her repulse him so much? Pain and insecurity threatened to take root in her heart but deep down she knew that couldn’t be it.  
    He’d grown sullen halfway through the ride down Lincoln Street, and had barely made a peep since. Could he be angry at her gaffe in the carriage? Anything was possible but he seemed fine immediately afterward. It wasn’t until moments later that he turned into a statue. Poppy had followed his fiery gaze but only saw a swarthy middle-aged man ushering a child into a dry goods store. Nothing that should cause such a reaction.
    “It’s small,” Mrs. Austin said, opening the door of a room and pulling Poppy out of her thoughts, “but I hope it will be suitable for the time being. Naturally, once you’ve settled in, you’re more than welcome to find alternate lodging in town, if you so choose. Many of our married couples do. Of course, you may also stay here for the duration of your contract.”
    “Thank you,” Poppy muttered as she passed the threshold.
    Both her and Matthew’s bags sat at the foot of a large bed, the mahogany footboard catching her breath with its simple beauty. On either side of the matching headboard stood delicate wrought-iron nightstands, a small oil lamp on each. A standing wardrobe loomed in the middle of one wall while two dressers — his and hers, presumably — were tucked into the corners on either side of the door. A tall window dressed in a delicate lace curtain let in an absurd amount of light. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sheer prettiness of the room.
    “Please rest and take your time unpacking. Dinner’s at six.” With that, Mrs. Austin eased the door shut and they were alone.
    “Well, what do you suggest we do about this situation?” Poppy asked to Matthew’s back.  
    He stood at the window, staring out across the school’s property and into the distance. Something more than their sleeping arrangements was troubling him, and she intended to find out what it was, once and for all. After a moment of silence, she tried a different tack.  
    “So, Matthew…now that we’re here, don’t you think it’s time to tell me what your business is all about? I am your wife, after all.”
    He spun around, his brown eyes flashing black. Eureka! That got him.
    “If you were my wife, you wouldn’t be asking me about where we’re going to sleep. You’d know that I would be right by your side in that bed you’re sitting on so prettily.”
    The mere suggestion pinked her cheeks, not from outrage but because the image of them