A Soldier for Poppy Page 2

  “Hmmm, you paint a convincing picture. Maybe I could afford a week or two.”

  “Uh, uh! It won’t cost you a cent. I have to pay the rent anyway and a few extra groceries won’t break me. You can travel down with me on June first and I’ll return you home, safe and sound, maybe even a little saner,” he grinned, “at the end of August.”

  “Three months? You actually want to be stuck with us all summer?”

  “We’ll have a great time.”

  “All right, but I don’t want to impose or outstay our welcome. We’ll leave the vacation open-ended and if we get in your way or things become too much for you, we’ll go home.”

  “Deal!” He took his right hand off the wheel long enough to shake on it. “We’ll have a great time. Just you wait and see.”

  Thankful she’d had the foresight to leave the outdoor lights on; Poppy roused a sleepy Nathan and herded him inside to bed while Carl followed with a sleeping Becky in his arms. She decided to forego their baths this once, struggled to get them into their pajamas, and then tucked them in for the night. As she closed Becky’s door and backed into the hallway, she turned and bumped into Carl, which threw her off balance.

  “Whoa, there,” he said as he gathered her close to steady her.

  Her off balance momentum resulted in her body coming to rest against his. She breathed in the unique masculine scent that was Carl and liked it very much. His compassion, strength and manly scent were things she could count on, depend on, and she did. Carl and her children provided the only light in her life, the comfort she’d needed to keep going since losing Peter.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled as she pulled away from him, her mind awash with guilt. This was Peter’s best friend! She couldn’t betray his memory this way.

  “No problem. Are you okay?” he asked, concern and something more etched into his features.

  “I’m fine, just clumsy.” She tried to laugh it off but the sound came out strangled.

  “My fault entirely. I should have paid more attention when leaving Nathan’s room.”

  “And I should have remembered there was someone else in the house. This has become such a nightly ritual that I do it by rote. Come on. I’ll show you to your room so you can bring your things in and get settled.”

  She hadn’t used the master bedroom with its ensuite bath since she’d lost Peter. The memories were unbearable. She opened the door and allowed Carl to precede her into the room.

  “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve aired it out, but you can open a window if you like. No one has used this room in a long time but I keep it clean and dusted. I’ll make up the bed and fetch some clean towels while you bring in your luggage.” She was babbling and she knew it but couldn’t seem to help herself.

  “Hey, don’t go to any trouble on my account. Just point me to the linen closet and I can fend for myself. A soldier’s life and all that.”

  ***

  He’d been a guest in this house enough times when Peter was alive to recognize the master bedroom. Now, he’d put his foot in his mouth and berated himself for the career reference as soon as he saw the stricken look on Poppy’s face. “I’m sorry, Poppy. If it’s too hard having me around, I can stay at a hotel.”

  She straightened her shoulders, a determined light in her eyes as she met his.

  “You’re not getting out of your vacation offer that easy, Mister! We’ll cope. I’ll cope. Maybe it’s time I quit grieving and started living again.”

  He reached out to cup her cheek in his palm. “Peter wouldn’t have wanted your spirit to die with him. He loved you too much for that.”

  “Thank you,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Hey! Got anything to drink in this joint?”

  She laughed. “Follow me.”

  Gladly, he thought as her well-rounded yet tight tush swayed enticingly as she walked ahead of him. She turned to show him the linen closet and caught him staring at her behind. Her blush added rosy color to a pale as porcelain complexion, her skin appearing to glow with the unstated compliment to her person.

  The library cum den was at the back of the house, the patio doors opening onto a deck overlooking a formal garden that owed its existence to Poppy’s care and attention. She was an avid gardener who possessed a true ‘green thumb’. He’d often appeared on her doorstep with seedlings of some kind to add to her assortment. Anything to make her happy, if only for the moment.

  He followed as she crossed to the huge oak bar in the corner, and perched on a stool when she slipped behind the counter.

  “What’ll it be? The usual lager or something stronger?”

  “Something on ice would be nice. A scotch?”

  “Scotch on the rocks coming right up.”

  She poured two and handed him one.

  “I thought your preference was white wine. When did you develop a taste for the stronger stuff?”

  “Well, I have this fully stocked bar and I’ve been sampling the goods on offer. Scotch and gin I can handle. The rest, ugh! Not for me,” she said, scrunching up her nose in distaste.

  He laughed, picturing the look on her face as she sampled the lot. “Wish I had been here to sample them with you. That would’ve been quite a treat.”

  “Are you poking fun at me?”

  “Never, but the burn of brandy would’ve had you doubling over, I’m sure.”

  “Nah, but it did have me running for the soda spritzer. Emptied it in record time.”

  She laughed with him, the easy camaraderie putting him at ease after his faux pas in the bedroom. He’d have to watch his step and his words, so as not to bring back memories. He wanted her to see him as a man, not just as Peter’s friend or a soldier.

  “Care to take me on a tour of the garden?” he asked.

  “Now?”

  “Why not? You have solar lighting scattered throughout.”

  “Okay.”

  He took her arm as they exited through the patio doors, immediately immersed in a wonderland of color and scent as they stepped out into the moonlight.

  “You’ve created a virtual paradise out here,” he said as they strolled the paths winding through the garden.

  “Thank you. I enjoy working with my hands. Gives me a welcome breather from all the number crunching.”

  “Speaking of which, how will your clients feel about you taking the summer off?”

  “I can’t really take the summer off. There are still reports and payroll that need doing. Most of which I can do anywhere with the laptop. If anything important comes up, they can reach me by email or on my cell. Work shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Good! Hey, that fountain is new, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, one of my clients owns a hardware store. When he found out about my garden, he sent it over and had it installed. ‘A bonus for excellent work,’ he called it. ‘No formal garden is complete without a fountain.’ I couldn’t refuse.”

  “Nor should you. Offerings like this one only happen when you’ve worked hard to get it.”

  The fountain sported exquisite little cherubs with water gushing out of the pots they held. Fairy lights around the edge showed the expert craftsmanship.

  “He has staff that does the actual bookkeeping and sends me reports via email at day’s end. Sometimes it can be a challenge to balance everything at month end, but it’s one of my main accounts so it’s steady work.”

  They’d come full circle, back to the deck area where a shady spot to the left held play equipment. One swing was hanging haphazardly but the rest seemed in good repair. He’d have to fix that tomorrow and see what else needed his attention while he was there.

  A four-seater garden swing drew his attention and he wandered over to it, taking Poppy with him as he sat and pushed off. The gentle rocking motion added to the ambiance of the garden, but it was the woman at his side who made him come to life. How could he share his feelings for her without scaring her off?

  She held herself stiff and straight beside hi
m. He shifted sideways and admired her long blond hair, only tonight it shone like a silver beacon under the moon’s glow.

  “Relax, Poppy. I don’t bite, you know.”

  Her tinkling laughter echoed into the night. “Maybe I do.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” he said, chuckling and pulling her close to rest against him. She’d kept her hair in a restrictive bun all day, but in the process of getting the children to bed, it had come loose and now drifted over her shoulders. His arm resting on the back of the seat, he took advantage and allowed his fingers to glide through the silver waves.

  “I often spend time out here in the evenings, enjoying the fruits of my labor, so to speak,” she commented in a soft voice. “It’s become my haven from the everyday world; a place where I can be alone to gather my thoughts and de-stress from the day’s events.”

  “Would you prefer some time alone now?” he asked, holding his breath while waiting for her answer. If she wanted her privacy, he’d give it to her, but he loved being able to hold her like this.

  “No, not tonight. Your presence doesn’t take anything away from the peace I find here. If anything, having you beside me makes it more comforting somehow.”

  “Then I’m glad I’m here for you,” he said, letting out a relieved breath as he gave her a gentle hug. “Anytime, Poppy. You know that.”

  “Yes, I do know. You and Peter were great friends but you go above and beyond in caring for us. I want to ask why but I’m not certain I’m ready to hear the answer.”

  “Then don’t let it worry you. Suffice it to say, I’m where I want to be. Peter spoke of you so often and with such love, I envied him.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes.”

  “And now?”

  He wondered how to answer in a way that wouldn’t shock her, finally deciding on the truth. “I still envy him.”

  She turned her face up to his, confusion registered in her eyes. “But he’s…gone. How can you envy him still?”

  “My dear Poppy,” he whispered as he moved his free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Peter may be gone but he still has your heart. I can’t compete with a ghost.”

  “Oh!”

  “Maybe we should go in now, before I do something we’ll both regret.”

  “Yes, knowing my kids, they’ll be up bright and early,” she said as he helped her to her feet.

  He walked her to the door and passed her his empty glass. “I’ll collect my things and see you in a few minutes.”

  “I’ll probably head straight to bed. You don’t mind locking up, do you?”

  “Not at all. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Poppy.”

  “Good night, Carl. Thanks again for today. I had a wonderful time.”

  “You’re welcome.” He strode to the front of the house and paused before retrieving his luggage from the trunk. Resting his arms on top of the car, he allowed his head to sink into them in defeat.

  He’d almost blown it back there. She was so beautiful and serene, so tempting, he’d wanted to claim her lips in a passion-filled kiss, force her to feel something… anything… for him.

  He’d loved Peter as a brother, but he was gone and now it should be his turn at happiness. Sorry, Peter, old buddy, but how on God’s green earth am I supposed to compete with your ghost? A ghost still holding Poppy’s heart captive.

  He gathered his belongings, wincing as he encountered the green army issue duffel bag. For a man who didn’t want to bring back memories, he hadn’t prepared very well. The front door squeaked in the silence. He’d have to oil the hinges and check the rest of the doors. Nothing was more annoying than the whine of protesting hinges.

  Light showed under Poppy’s door as he gained the upper hallway. He paused briefly, listening for—he knew not what, then walked beyond it to the master suite.

  Sleep was a long time coming. His mind wouldn’t shut off. His thoughts concentrated on the woman laying in bed a few doors down. His body remembered the feel of her as he’d held her in his arms. He wanted her but he could be patient. Tonight, he’d planted the seed and he had all summer to watch it take root and grow.

  With that hope uppermost in his mind, he crawled from the bed to take the first of what he considered a long line of cold showers.

  Chapter Three

  Poppy heard the shower start and smiled to herself. She was glad Carl felt comfortable enough to make himself at home. Sleep eluded her, but it wasn’t because of the memorial service or financial stress, as per the norm. No, it was guilt, pure and simple. Peter’s smiling face watched her from the framed photo beside the bed. Their time together would always be a pleasant memory, but she needed more. The kids needed more.

  She’d found herself attracted to Carl today at the park and again tonight as they sat on the swing. He was easy to be with, not demanding or critical. How nice it would be to share her life with someone again. Carl had always been an honorary uncle to her kids. Who better to fill the role of stepfather to her fatherless children? Would Peter approve of her attraction to Carl?

  The three of them had grown up in an orphanage in Arkansas. Poppy, being petite and pretty, drew the attention of all the boys, but Peter became her protector. He made it known that she was ‘his girl’ and warned the rest to back off.

  Carl had been one of his roommates and the two men had developed a friendship closer than any blood relations could ever be. They’d gone everywhere together, often including her in their activities. She’d enjoyed the time spent with them, playing ball, going to the movies or swimming in the creek.

  Peter had been such fun to hang out with at the orphanage. He’d loved life and was eager to try everything and anything. Carl, on the other hand, had a more serious outlook on life. He’d kept Peter’s high jinks to an acceptable level and helped them avoid trouble on more than one occasion. He’d served as best man at their wedding, soon after graduation.

  When Peter decided to enlist, she’d begged Carl to do the same, hoping and praying that he’d watch out for him in the thick of battle. She’d often wondered if it was Peter’s daredevil attitude, his lack of attention, that had gotten him killed overseas. If so, Carl would never tell her. He wouldn’t want to sully Peter’s memory that way.

  She sighed, rolling onto her back so she wasn’t facing his picture. Was this the beginning of the end of her grieving? Life was for the living and Peter would’ve been the first one to remind her of that if he was here. He’d told her so often enough.

  The moon shone through the window, highlighting the blue-painted room with a silvery sheen that seemed surreal. Her entire life boiled down to that without Peter. Gone were the hopes and dreams of raising their kids and growing old together. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life alone? A resounding ‘NO!’ was her answer, yet she didn’t feel ready to move on. Her heart still belonged to her dead husband even after two long years of struggling alone. How idiotic was that?

  The shower turned off and she pictured Carl drying himself off. She remembered, all too well, his magnificent physique from high school, which had filled out promisingly over the years.

  Still unable to sleep, she switched on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book lying there. It was a romantic suspense, a good one, and should serve to channel her thoughts elsewhere. An hour later, she replaced the finished book and turned out the light. She fell asleep and dreamed of the hero, but in her dream, he became Carl and the heroine, the woman he’d rescued and swore to love forever, was herself.

  ***

  Up at dawn, as per the usual, Carl dressed and went down to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He took a cup of it out on the back deck, amazed at the selection of shrubs and plants in bloom. Everywhere he looked, there were abundant colors of every hue. Poppy was a wonder…always on top of things. Work, the kids, the house and her prized garden—she took pride in it all.

  He meandered the path he’d traversed with Poppy the night before, except for taking a detour down th
e trail that led to a promontory overlooking the lake. Early enthusiasts were already out with their sailboats, skimming the clear water and leaving a ripple effect in their wake. On the far side, someone started up a speedboat, the noise eerily intrusive in the morning silence.

  His coffee finished, he turned to resume his walk, coming to rest at the fountain. He threw in a pocketful of change and made a wish…one he desperately hoped would come true, and soon. He sat still and silent, unmoving, his patience rewarded when a blue jay swooped in for a drink. Next, a hummingbird fluttered near a fuchsia plant, drawing life-giving nectar from its depths.

  Finally, his need for more coffee prompted him to his feet. He jogged the remainder of the trail, surprised when he heard male laughter beyond the last turn.

  “There you are! The kids saw your car when they woke up and looked for you. Enjoy your walk?”

  “Very much. You have a beautiful property here.” So, she wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d spent the night in front of her company. Who was this guy?

  “Carl, I’d like you to meet Luke Swanson. He owns Swanson’s Hardware here in town. Luke, this is Carl Anders, a very dear family friend.”

  The men shook hands, sizing each other up. Carl winced at the status of family friend, but at least he belonged. Why did Poppy invite the man out here to visit? This was her private haven, after all.

  “Luke came by to see the fountain now that it’s all set up and working. The kids are eating breakfast in the kitchen if you’d care to join them. Your plate is in the oven.”

  “Thank you, I think I will.” Although he didn’t want to leave her alone with the man, it wouldn’t do to seem overprotective or possessive. Besides, he was one of her clients. They might have business to discuss. He took the steps two at a time. “See you later,” he said before dashing through the kitchen door.

  Nathan and Becky heard him coming and waited to ambush him just inside the door. They buddied up to wrestle him to the floor and he was certain their squeals of laughter carried two blocks away. Surely, it carried as far as the fountain and the two people walking in that direction, he hoped.