Fairy Tale Weddings

by Debbie Macomber

  Four or five days wouldn’t seem long, Judy told herself as she dressed. The time would fly. She glanced at her watch; already fifteen minutes had passed.

  Slumping onto the edge of the bed, Judy released a long, slow breath. She loved John and was only beginning to understand the consequences of blithely handing him her heart. Caring for him excited her, and it made her afraid. John wouldn’t be an easy man to love; he knew so little about it. Judy had been surrounded by love. Her feelings for John gave him the power to hurt her and she wasn’t convinced that telling him how she felt would be in her best interests—or his.

  The first day passed without incident. The second was equally dull. Mealtimes were the worst. She sat at the end of the table and experienced such an overwhelming sense of loneliness that she scolded herself for being so dramatic.

  Nothing seemed right without John. Not riding Princess around the island; not visiting the children; not writing letters to her family; not swimming.

  She was lonely and bored, at odds with herself. One man had toppled her world and a few days without him taxed the balance of her existence.

  The night of the third day, Judy tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. She missed John dreadfully and was angry with herself for feeling at such a loss without him.

  At midnight, she threw aside the blankets and silently crept down the stairs for a glass of milk, hoping that would help her sleep. John’s office was on the opposite side of the house from the kitchen, and Judy carried her milk to the opulently paneled suite, turning on the lights. She slipped into his desk chair, tucking her bare feet beneath her. Briefly she closed her eyes and smiled, inhaling his scent. She could practically feel his presence, and that eased the ache of loneliness and despair.

  Weary to the bone, McFarland entered the house and paused in the foyer, resisting the urge to climb the stairs and wake Judy. The thought of holding her sleepy head against his chest was almost more than he could resist.

  The business meetings hadn’t gone well and in part he blamed himself. Negotiations had come to an impasse and, in his impatience to return to the island, he’d asked that the meeting be adjourned while both parties considered the lengthy proposals. He would’ve stayed in Dallas if he’d felt it would do any good, but he figured it was probably better to return to St. Steven’s rather than buckle under to United Petroleum’s unreasonable demands.

  He paused, rubbed a hand over his face and smiled. He didn’t need to wake Judy to feel her presence in his home. He had only to shut his eyes to see her bouncing down the stairs with a vitality that rivaled life itself. Her laughter was like sparkling water; her smile could blot out the sun.

  His heart constricted with emotion. He would surprise her first thing in the morning. Until then he’d have to be content.

  With that in mind, he headed toward his rooms, until a light in his office attracted his attention. It wasn’t like Avery to work this late unless there was a major problem. Frowning, McFarland decided to check.

  One step into his office and he stopped cold. Judy was curled up in the chair behind his desk, sound asleep. She was the picture of innocence with her head to one side, the thick coffee-colored hair falling over her cheek. She wore a plain nightgown beneath an equally unfeminine robe. Neither did much to reveal the womanly curves beneath. However, McFarland had never experienced a stronger stab of desire. It cut through him, sharp and intense, and trapped the breath in his lungs.

  Had it been any other woman, he would’ve kissed her awake, then carried her into his room and satisfied his yearning. He couldn’t do that with Judy; her innocence prevented him.

  He hesitated, debating how he should wake her. His impulse, despite everything, was to bend over and kiss her, but he knew that would never satisfy him and the potency of his desire would only shock her. Shaking her or calling her name might frighten her.

  Of her own accord, Judy stirred and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back and yawning loudly. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. When she opened her eyes, she discovered John standing on the other side of the desk. She blinked. At first she was convinced he wasn’t real but the embodiment of her deepest desires. When she realized he was actually there, she leaped from the chair, nearly tripping on the hem of her nightgown.

  “John.” She brought her hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry…I don’t know what came over me to come into your office. It must’ve startled you to find me here. I…I apologize.”

  “My home is yours. No apology is necessary,” he said softly as his gaze fell on the empty glass.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” She shook back her hair, still flustered and more than a little embarrassed. “When did you get in?”

  He felt a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. She looked like a guilty child with her hand in the cookie jar. “A few minutes ago.”

  She clasped her hands and smiled brightly. “Welcome home.”

  “It’s good to be here.”

  Judy tightened her hands to restrain the urge to run into his arms, hold on to him and beg him never to leave her again. Her heart continued to pound, but she didn’t know if it was from being caught in his office or just the sight of him.

  “Did anything happen while I was away?” he asked, reaching for his mail and idly flipping through it.

  “Nothing important.” She stood across from him, drinking in his presence as though he might disappear at any moment. “Are you hungry? I’d be happy to fix you something.” She prayed he was famished, so she’d have an excuse to stay with him longer.

  “Don’t go to any trouble.”

  “I won’t. Will a sandwich do?” She smiled, inordinately pleased to be able to do this one small thing for him.

  “A sandwich would be fine.”

  He followed her into the kitchen and pulled a stool up to the stainless-steel table while Judy opened the refrigerator to take out the necessary ingredients.

  “How was the trip?” she asked, liberally slathering two slices of bread with mayonnaise before placing turkey and tomato on them.

  McFarland had never discussed business matters with anyone outside his office. The temptation to do it now was strong, but he didn’t. “Everything went as expected,” he said matter-of-factly, which was only half true.

  Judy cut the sandwich in half, set it on a plate and handed it to him. She poured them each a glass of milk, then sat on a stool across from him.

  Elbows braced on the table, she cupped her face in her hands and studied him while he ate. Her brow creased with concern. “You look exhausted.”

  “I am. I didn’t make it to bed last night.”

  “The meetings didn’t go well, did they?”

  Her intuition surprised him; he hadn’t thought he was that easy to read. “I didn’t expect them to.”

  “What happened?”

  McFarland shrugged. “I made an offer, they rejected it and came back with a counteroffer.”

  “And you rejected that?”

  He paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. “Not exactly. Not yet, anyway,” he elaborated.

  “But you will?”

  Again he shrugged, and his eyes met hers. “I’m not sure.”

  Judy continued to study John. He was physically exhausted, but his mental stress weighed far more heavily on him. As a young girl, she’d often watched her mother soothe away her father’s tension. Georgia Lovin hadn’t made suggestions; she’d had no expertise in business, but she possessed the ability to get her husband to relax and talk out the problem. More often than not, he found the solution. Judy prayed she could do the same for John.

  “You want this deal, don’t you?” she asked him softly.

  McFarland nodded. “I’ve been working on it for over a year. The offer I made United Petroleum is a fair one—it was more than fair. But I’m at a disadvantage.”

  “Why?”

  He set the glass down hard. “Because they know I want this.”

  “I see.”

  “Now t
hat you mention it, I may have appeared too anxious to settle.” He couldn’t deny his eagerness. He’d wanted to get those papers signed so he could get back to the island and Judy, his mission accomplished. He’d thought he’d been more subtle, but perhaps not. “Let me explain,” he said, taking a napkin and scribbling down a series of figures.

  He spoke nonstop for fifteen minutes. Much of what he said was beyond Judy’s comprehension, although she pretended to understand every bit of it. She nodded at the appropriate times, occasionally asking a question, and smiled when he finished.

  “You’re right,” he said with a wide grin. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Judy understood only some of what he was talking about, but it didn’t seem to matter. The weariness was gone from his eyes. He stood and paced the kitchen.

  “That’s it,” he said, pausing in front of her. “Has anyone ever told you what a marvel you are?” His hands cradled her face and he kissed her soundly.

  Judy’s breath lodged in her chest. “What was that for?”

  “To thank you.” He checked his watch. “It’s late, but I think I’ll call my attorney and talk this latest strategy over with him.”

  “John,” she protested. “It’s one o’clock in the morning!”

  “For the money I pay that man it shouldn’t make any difference what time I call him.”

  Before she could protest further, John was at the kitchen door. He opened it, paused and turned back. “Will you ride with me in the morning?”

  She smiled and nodded eagerly, grateful that he’d asked.

  In his office, McFarland emptied his briefcase and set the file for United Petroleum on his desk. It struck him then, sharply. He didn’t know how, but Judy had gotten him to reveal the minute details of this buyout. He’d told her everything without any hesitation. He wasn’t worried about what she’d do with the information; there was nothing she could do.

  But he was shocked by the way she’d so completely gained his confidence—to the point that he cheerfully gave out industry secrets without a second thought. This woman had him tied in knots a sailor couldn’t untangle, and every one of them was choking off his independence. Because she was making herself essential.

  He paused as he analyzed the situation. McFarland didn’t like the idea of a woman, any woman, controlling his life. Not one bit. Something had to be done to put an end to it.

  At dawn Judy rushed to meet John at the stables. She’d slept well after leaving him. When the maid had come to wake her, she’d resisted climbing out of the warm bed, preferring to hold on to the memory of John’s arms around her. It took her a moment to realize she’d been dreaming.

  Midnight and Princess were saddled and waiting.

  “Morning,” she called to Sam and smiled at John, who immediately swung onto Midnight’s back.

  The burly trainer waved. Judy stroked Princess’s smooth neck before mounting. She noticed that John’s look remained stoic.

  “How’d you sleep?” she asked when they’d gone a few hundred feet. He was quiet, withdrawn and taciturn—nothing like the warm, gentle man he’d been when they’d parted.

  “I didn’t get to bed,” he answered crisply.

  “Oh, John, again? You must be ready to fall out of the saddle.”

  “No. After you left last night, I started to analyze the proposal and decided there were still things I wanted to change before I talked to Butterman.”

  Judy assumed Butterman was his attorney. “What did he have to say?”

  John’s expression was thoughtful. “Not much. But he seemed to think the new strategy would work. Unless United Petroleum wants to play games, I should hear back sometime this afternoon.” He tipped back the brim of his hat and glanced at his watch. “The fact is, I should probably cut our ride short and get back to the office in case they contact me this morning.”

  Judy was aghast. “You don’t intend to work, do you? Good heavens, you’ve been away on an exhausting business trip.”

  “So?”

  “You haven’t slept in who knows how long!”

  McFarland’s mouth thinned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Everything,” she cried, losing her own temper. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but she had a hunch that a few hours’ rest would cure it.

  “Just what am I supposed to do?”

  “Sleep.”

  “I’m expecting a phone call.”

  “Avery will wake you.”

  “What are you? My nurse?”

  Judy’s gloved hands tightened around the reins at the harsh edge to his voice. “Someone needs to look after you.”

  “And you’re volunteering for the job?” McFarland didn’t want to shout at her, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. She was right. He hadn’t seen a bed in over forty-eight hours, but he sure didn’t want a woman dictating his actions.

  Judy clamped her mouth shut, refusing to rise to the bait.

  They rode together for half an hour without saying a word. McFarland derived little pleasure from the outing. He regretted having snapped at Judy, especially when he would much rather have taken her in his arms and kissed her. He searched for a way to apologize without losing his pride, and found none.

  When they’d returned to the stable, Judy lowered herself from Princess’s back and turned toward John. “As I recall, only a few hours ago you considered me wise and insightful. I don’t know what happened since then, but I really do wish you’d rest.”

  “Why?”

  She clenched her fists. “You’re killing yourself working day and night for no reason.”

  “I call a hundred million dollars a damn good reason.”

  “Is it worth your health?” she cried, tears glistening in her eyes. “Is it worth becoming so unreasonable no one can even talk to you? Is it worth saying things you don’t mean?”

  “You seem to be doing exactly that.”

  “No. I mean everything I say.” She paused. “I care about you.”

  “Is that supposed to excite me?” he asked. “You care about everything—horses, children…bugs. It would be hard to find something you didn’t care about. Listen, Miss Bleeding Heart, I can do without your meddling. Got that?”

  “No,” she said with pride, her face pale and grim.

  “You’ve been nothing but a nuisance since you came to the island. There isn’t a man or woman here who doesn’t bend to your every wish. Well, I refuse to be one of them. You’ll do what I tell you. It won’t be the other way around. Is that clear?”

  If possible, her face went even paler, and her eyes widened with unmistakable pain. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. But she refused to look away.

  “I won’t bother you again, John McFarland,” she whispered with quiet dignity and turned away from him. How quickly everything had changed. She’d missed John desperately. She’d longed to savor this morning’s outing with him and instead had been subjected to an outburst she didn’t understand.

  In her rooms, she sat and stared at the wall as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. She was in love with a beast. The possibility of ever gaining his heart struck her as ludicrous. In his own words, she was a nuisance and, with that, Judy realized that he’d probably never be capable of loving her.

  At lunchtime, she sent a message that she wouldn’t be joining him and requested that all her meals be sent to her room. If John found her company so taxing, there was no need to punish him with it. She was determined to avoid him until he saw fit to summon her.

  A day passed.

  A night.

  Another day.

  Another long, sleepless night.

  A third day came and went, and still John didn’t ask for her. She thought about him, yearned for him. She loved him and he considered her an annoyance. All these weeks when she’d treasured every moment with him, he’d seen her as a bother, a pest.

  Still, he didn’t summon her. To escape her rooms, Judy walked along the
beach in the early morning. For the first time in weeks she entertained thoughts of leaving, but ultimately rejected them. They’d struck a bargain, and although it became increasingly difficult, she would stay on the island until he sent her away.

  Countless times Judy wondered why he kept her there. She yearned to be with her family.

  McFarland was not amused by Judy’s stubbornness. Perhaps he’d been a bit unreasonable, but her reaction was even more so. For four days, she’d refused to have anything to do with him. That had been her choice, but enough was enough. The entire house was in an uproar.

  Earlier McFarland had discovered the chef arguing with Avery. French insults gushed like water out of a spigot while the four-star chef gestured freely with his hands. The entire time, the man glanced accusingly in McFarland’s direction.

  “What was that all about?” he’d asked his assistant later.

  “He—ah—is concerned,” Avery commented, looking embarrassed.

  “Concerned? Is there a problem with the kitchen staff?”

  “No.” Avery busied himself shifting papers around his desk.

  “Then what is it?”

  “He’s concerned about Ms. Lovin.”

  McFarland’s grin faded and his eyes grew cold. “Judy? What’s wrong?”

  “He claims she isn’t eating properly and that she sends back her meals untouched. He’s tempted her with his most famous recipes and nothing seems to work. He’s afraid she’s making herself ill.”

  A muscle jerked convulsively in McFarland’s clenched jaw.

  “I realize this isn’t any of my business, Mr. McFarland, but…”

  “You’re right. It isn’t.”

  Avery squared his shoulders, his own jaw tightening. “I’ve been with you for several years now, but these last three days have been the most difficult. You’ve been impatient and unreasonably demanding, and I can see no excuse for it. You have my notice, Mr. McFarland.”

  McFarland was stunned. Perhaps he had been a bit more demanding in the past few days, but that wasn’t any reason for Avery to resign. “As you wish,” he answered with some reluctance.