Fairy Tale Weddings

by Debbie Macomber

So was Judy. She felt warm and wonderful. The sensation was so strong that she closed her eyes for a moment. She hadn’t misjudged John. He was everything she hoped.

  “Mr. McFarland’s here now,” Sam continued, his voice low. “Midnight’s still in the corral and he went out there. I don’t suppose you saw him or you wouldn’t be here.” The man who ruled the stables removed his hat and wiped his forehead, then gave Judy a sheepish grin. “He didn’t say anything to me about letting you in the stables again.”

  “I’ll leave,” she said, unable to restrain a smile. Sam was back in John’s good graces, and she’d become a threat.

  The older man paused and looked around before whispering, “You come see me anytime you want. Princess will miss you if you don’t bring her a carrot every now and then.”

  Judy laughed and gently placed her hand on his forearm. “Thank you, Sam.”

  He grinned in response, and she was grateful that she could count him as her friend.

  Judy left the barn, intent on escaping before John discovered her presence. Her world had righted itself and there was no reason to topple it again—at least not this soon.

  She was halfway to the house when she changed her mind, realizing she wanted to thank John. Like his stallion, he was dangerous and unpredictable. He was different from any man she’d ever known, and it frightened her how much she wanted to be with him. How much she wanted to thank him for not firing Sam.

  John’s shadow moved in and out of the dim moonlight as she approached. As Sam had told her, he stood by the corral, one booted foot braced against the bottom rung, his arms resting on the top.

  A minute or so later she joined him. “It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” she said, tentatively leaning against the fence.

  McFarland tensed, his face hard and unyielding. He avoided looking at her. “There’s a storm brewing.”

  “No,” she said with a soft smile. “The storm has passed.”

  He gave a low, self-mocking laugh. “I asked you to stay away from here.”

  “I won’t come again if you wish.”

  What he wished would have shocked her all the way to those dainty feet of hers, just as it had shocked him. He liked his women spicy and hot; Judy Lovin was sweet and warm.

  “I’d like to show you something,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “But I need your trust.”

  He didn’t answer her one way or the other. All evening he’d been toying with the idea of sending her back to her family and he was at a loss to understand why that no longer appealed to him. The woman had become a nuisance. She forced him to look deep within himself; she invaded his dreams and haunted his days. He hadn’t had a moment’s peace since she’d stepped onto the island.

  “John, will you trust me for one moment?”

  He turned his head slightly.

  Standing on the bottom rung of the corral, she gave a shrill whistle that was an imitation of the one John had used earlier that day to attract Midnight’s attention.

  The stallion snorted once, jerked his head and casually walked toward her.

  “Here, boy,” she said, patting his nose and rubbing her hands and face over his as he nuzzled her. “No, I don’t have any sugar cubes with me now, but I will another day. I wanted to show your master that we’re friends.”

  Midnight whinnied softly and seemed to object when she stepped down and moved away.

  McFarland wouldn’t have been any more shocked if she’d pulled out a gun and fired on him. She’d made Midnight look as tame as a child’s pony. His throat tightened.

  “I was never in any real danger,” she explained in a low voice. “Midnight and I are friends. Most of his arrogance is show. It’s expected of him and he likes to live up to his reputation.”

  “When?” McFarland growled.

  “I’ve been working with him in the afternoons. We made our peace two days ago. He’d even let me ride him if I wanted to, but he’s your horse and I wouldn’t infringe on that.”

  Why not? She had infringed on everything else in his life! His peace of mind had been shot from the minute she’d turned those incredible eyes on him.

  Without a word, he left her standing at the corral, not trusting himself to speak.

  Hours later, unable to sleep, McFarland gazed around his still bedroom. He didn’t know what to make of Judy Lovin; she could be either angel or demon. She tamed wild animals, was beloved by children and made his cynical heart pound with desires that were only a little short of pure lust.

  The maid woke Judy early the next morning just as dawn dappled the countryside.

  “Mr. McFarland is waiting for you, miss.”

  Judy sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Mr. McFarland?”

  “He’s at the stables, miss.”

  “He wants me to go riding with him?”

  “I believe so.”

  With a surge of energy, Judy tossed back the covers and climbed out of bed. “Could you please tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes?”

  “Right away.”

  Judy was breathless by the time she arrived at the stables. Princess was saddled and waiting for her; Midnight stood beside the mare. John appeared from inside the barn.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly. He was dressed in black again, his eyes a deep indigo-blue. “It’s a glorious morning, isn’t it?”

  “Glorious,” he echoed mockingly.

  She decided to ignore his derision. The earth smelled fresh in the aftermath of the night’s storm. The dewdrops beaded like sparkling emeralds on the lush green foliage.

  “Are you ready?” McFarland asked as he mounted.

  “Yes.” She swung onto Princess’s back.

  As he had the first time she’d ridden with him, John rode furiously. Judy was able to keep pace with him, but when they reached the far side of the island, she was exhausted from the workout.

  He slowed, and they trotted side by side on the flawless beach.

  “You never cease to amaze me,” he said, studying her. He’d ridden hard and long, half expecting her to fall behind, almost wishing she had.

  “Me? I find you astonishing. Do you always ride like that?”

  “No,” he admitted sheepishly.

  “You must’ve been born in the saddle.”

  “Hardly. I’d made my first million before I ever owned a horse.”

  “When was that?”

  A slow, sensual smile formed as he glanced in her direction. “You’re full of questions, aren’t you?”

  “Does it bother you?”

  He stared at her. “No, I suppose not.”

  “I imagine you had a colorful youth.”

  He laughed outright at that. “I’d been arrested twice before I was thirteen.”

  “Arrested?” Her eyes widened. “But why?”

  “I was a thief.” He threw back his head and laughed. “Some say I still am.”

  Judy dismissed his joking. “I don’t believe that. You’re an honorable man. You wouldn’t take anything that didn’t belong to you, not without a good reason.”

  Her automatic defense of him produced a curious hurt in his chest. There had been a good reason—someone had tried to cheat him. In the same circumstances, he’d react the same way. He wasn’t bad, but in all his life, only one man had ever believed in him. From grade school, he’d been branded a renegade, a hellion. He’d been all that and more. But he wouldn’t be where he was today if he hadn’t been willing to gamble. He’d had to be tough.

  When he didn’t respond, Judy sought his gaze. The look in his eyes made her ache inside. He wore the wounds of his past proudly, like medals of valor, but the scars went deep.

  “What about you?” he taunted. “Haven’t you ever done anything wrong? Other than falling in love with a married man?”

  The pain in her eyes was so clear that McFarland felt ashamed of asking.

  “Actually, I have,” she said, recovering quickly. “But since you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.”
>
  She laughed, slapped the reins against Princess’s neck and sped off, leaving a cloud of sand in her wake.

  McFarland caught up with her easily.

  She smiled at him, her brown eyes sparkling. Dismounting, she brushed the wind-tossed hair from her face and stared into the sun. “I love this island. I love the seclusion and the peace. No wonder you had to have it.”

  McFarland joined her on the beach. He knew he was going to kiss her, knew he’d regret it later, but he was beyond caring. He touched her shoulder and turned her so that she faced him, giving her ample opportunity to stop him if she wanted to.

  She didn’t. Her pulse surged as his mouth moved to cover hers.

  His arms went around her, bringing her close. He groaned and dragged his mouth away. She tasted like paradise and he didn’t know how he could avoid wanting more. “I wish I hadn’t done that,” he said with a moan.

  “I’m glad you did,” she whispered.

  “Don’t tell me that.”

  “Yes…”

  She wasn’t allowed to finish as he held her face and kissed her again, unable to get enough of her. She leaned against him, letting him absorb her weight. Their bodies were pressed close. His fingers became tangled in her hair as he kissed her. He felt a tremor work its way through her and heard the soft sounds of passion that slid from her throat.

  Instantly, he sobered, breaking off the kiss.

  Judy sagged against him and released a long breath, resting her forehead on his chest. “You kiss the same way you ride.”

  McFarland slowly rubbed his chin against her hair as a lazy smile touched his mouth. She made him tremble from the inside out. He’d been right the first time; he shouldn’t have let this happen. He should’ve found the strength to resist. Now that he’d held her, now that he’d kissed her, there was no turning back.

  “John?”

  He wanted to blame her for what she did to him, punish her for dominating his thoughts and making him hunger for her touch, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. His rage was directed solely at himself.

  “I shouldn’t have said those things.”

  “I know,” she whispered. She seemed to sense intuitively that he was talking about Midnight. “I understand.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I couldn’t—you were too angry. I’d frightened you.”

  He slipped his arm around her shoulder. He should be begging forgiveness, but all she seemed to do was offer excuses for him. “I want to make it up to you,” he said.

  “There’s no need. It’s forgotten.”

  “No,” he said forcefully. “I won’t pass it off as lightly as that. Anything you want is yours. Just name it.”

  She went still.

  “Except leaving the island.” There must be a thousand things she longed to own, he thought. Jewels, land, maybe stocks and bonds. He’d give them to her. He’d give her anything she asked for.

  “John, please, there’s no need. I—”

  “Name it.” His eyes hardened.

  She bit her lower lip, realizing it would do little good to argue. He was making amends the only way he knew how—with money. “Anything?”

  He nodded sharply.

  “Then I want the school on the island rebuilt. It’s rundown and badly in need of repairs and unsafe for the children.”

  Five

  Paulo, a gleeful year-old baby, rested on Judy’s hip. Other children followed her around the cluster of homes as though she were royalty. The small party walked to the outskirts of the schoolyard, where the workers were busily constructing the new schoolhouse.

  “Mr. McFarland told me the school will be ready by the end of the month,” Judy told the children. The building had gone up so quickly that it had astonished both Judy and the islanders. The day after she’d made her request, a construction crew had arrived, followed by several shiploads of building supplies. Judy shuddered to think of the expense, but John hadn’t so much as blinked when she said she wanted a school. And when John McFarland ordered something, there were no delays.

  Paulo’s mother joined Judy and the other children. The baby gurgled excitedly, stretched out his arms and leaned toward his mother. Judy gave him a kiss and handed him over.

  “Paulo likes you.”

  “As long as his mother isn’t around,” Judy responded with a laugh.

  “The children are very happy,” the shy young woman added, looking toward the school. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Mr. McFarland’s having it built, not me.”

  “But you’re his woman and you’re the one who told him….”

  Judy had long since given up explaining that she wasn’t John’s “woman,” although the thought wasn’t as objectionable as when she’d first come here. In the weeks since, her attitude toward John had altered dramatically. He was the beast her father claimed; Judy had seen that side of him on more than one occasion. But he possessed a gentleness, too, a kindness that touched her heart.

  Now that she knew him better, she hoped to understand his idiosyncrasies. He’d told her so little of his life, but from what she’d gleaned, he’d been abandoned at a young age and raised in a series of foster homes. A high-school teacher had befriended him, encouraged his talents and helped him start his first business. Although the teacher had died before John had achieved his financial empire, the island had been named after him—Steven Fischer.

  Since the kiss they’d shared that early morning, Judy’s relationship with John had changed subtly. As before, he didn’t seek out her company and the only time she could count on being with him was at dinner. She was allowed to take Princess whenever she wished, but the invitation to ride with John had come only twice. He treated her with the politeness due to a houseguest, but avoided any physical contact, which told her that he regretted having kissed her.

  Judy didn’t regret it. She thought about that morning often, relived it again and again, fantasizing, wishing it hadn’t ended so quickly.

  She exchanged letters with her family regularly now. Her father and her brother worried about her, but Judy frequently assured them she was happy, and to her surprise, realized it was the truth. She missed her old life, her family and her home, but she kept them close in her heart and didn’t dwell on the separation.

  John had given no indication when she could return and she hadn’t asked. For now she was content.

  After spending the morning with the children, Judy went back to the house, wearing a wreath of flowers on her head. The children and Paulo’s mother had woven it for her and she’d been touched by their generosity.

  Since it was an hour until lunch, Judy decided to find a new book to read. The library doors were open and beckoned her inside. Judy walked into the room.

  McFarland sat at the desk, writing.

  “John,” she said, surprised. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  He glanced up and the frown that creased his forehead relaxed at the sight of her. She wore a simple yellow sundress with a halo of flowers on her thick, dark hair. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from her.

  “You didn’t disturb me,” he told her.

  “It’s a fantastic morning,” she said eagerly, seeking a topic of conversation.

  In the weeks since her arrival, Judy had acquired a rich, golden tan. Her healthy glow mesmerized him. “Beauty” did little to describe this woman, whose charm and winsome elegance appealed to him so strongly. McFarland had never known anyone like her. Her goodness wasn’t a sweet coating that disguised a greedy heart. Judy Lovin was pure and good; her simple presence humbled him.

  The memory of their kiss played havoc with his senses. He hadn’t touched her since, doing his utmost to be the congenial host. The sweetest torment he’d ever endured was having her so close and not making love to her. He feared what would happen if he kissed her again, and yet the dream of doing so constantly interrupted his sleep.

  He’d planned to return Judy to her family before now, but
couldn’t bring himself to do so. He was at odds with himself, knowing it was foolish to keep her on the island with him. If she’d revealed some sign of being unhappy and asked to go home to New York, he would’ve allowed it, but Judy showed no desire to leave and he selfishly wanted to keep her with him, despite her family’s constant pleading.

  “I spent the morning with the children,” Judy said, still only a few steps inside the room. “They’re excited about the school.”

  John nodded, unconcerned. “Did they give you the flowers?”

  She raised one hand to her head, having forgotten about the orchid wreath. “Yes, they’re talented, aren’t they?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an elaborate chess set. When he didn’t respond to her first question, she asked another. “Do you play?”

  McFarland’s gaze followed her own. “On occasion.”

  “Are you busy now?”

  He glanced at his watch, more for show than anything. He was always busy, but not too busy to torture himself with her. “Not terribly.”

  “Shall we play a game, then?” She longed for his company. “That is, if it wouldn’t be an intrusion.”

  His eyes held hers; he couldn’t refuse her. “All right,” he agreed.

  “Good,” she said, smiling, and brought the chess set to the desk, then pulled up a chair to sit opposite him.

  “Shall we make it interesting?” McFarland asked, leaning forward.

  “Money?”

  He grinned. “No.”

  “What then?”

  “Let the winner decide.”

  “But…”

  “How good are you?”

  Judy dropped her gaze to the board. “Fair. If I lose, what would you want from me?”

  What a question. The possibilities sent his blood pressure soaring. He wanted her heart and her soul. And he wanted to feel her body beneath his own. The image clawed at his mind and his senses. He forced himself to rein in his desire.

  “John?”

  “What would I want?” he repeated hurriedly. “I don’t know. Something simple. What about you? What would you want?”

  Her laughter echoed off the book-lined walls. “Something simple,” she echoed.