Fairy Tale Weddings

by Debbie Macomber

  “John,” she pleaded, “don’t stop.”

  He kissed her again because refusing her anything was beyond him. His mouth claimed hers, and when he’d finished, their breathing was labored.

  He held her face and wiped the tears from her cheek with the side of his thumb, still aghast at the power she held over him. “What happened?”

  She shook her head. “I heard pounding…or what I thought was…pounding.”

  McFarland nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  “You’re building a medical clinic?”

  “Yes.”

  She drew her hands over his face, stroking, loving every inch of his features while she gathered her composure. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

  McFarland studied her, more perplexed than ever. He’d given her a host of gifts, but nothing had evoked this response. Not even the sculpture. A simple medical clinic had reduced her to tears.

  A loud knock forced them apart.

  “I apologize for this rude interruption, Mr. McFarland,” the nurse said, standing just inside the door. “There was no stopping her—I did try.”

  “I flew the coop,” Judy whispered and was rewarded with a quick smile from John.

  “I really have to insist that she return to bed immediately.”

  “Oh, do I have to?” Judy asked with a ragged sigh.

  McFarland stood, bringing Judy with him. “Yes, you do.”

  “Another day of this, and you might as well bury me in my nightgown.” Playfully, she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes.

  “Another kiss like that,” McFarland said, low enough for only Judy to hear, “and you can bury me, too.”

  John scooped her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs. Virginia Reinholt led the way back to Judy’s room, clucking as she went, listing Judy’s myriad transgressions with every step.

  McFarland followed Ms. Reinholt into the room and lowered Judy to the bed. She didn’t release her arms from around his neck, but held him a moment longer while she whispered, “Just wait until you get sick!”

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” McFarland asked for the fifth time in as many minutes. The thought of her on another horse made him wince.

  “If you ask me that once more I think I’ll scream,” Judy told him with a scathing look that added credence to her threat. “It’s been three weeks since the accident. I’m not recovering from brain surgery, you know!”

  “But horseback riding…”

  “If Ms. Reinholt approved, so should you. Besides, I want to ride again before I lose my nerve.”

  “Never mind yours,” McFarland muttered. “Mine’s completely shot.”

  Sam brought both Princess and Midnight to the front of the stables and held Princess while Judy slipped her foot into the stirrup and mounted the mare.

  The movement caused a painful twinge, but nothing she couldn’t readily disguise. “There,” she said triumphantly.

  “Right.” McFarland swung himself onto Midnight and circled the yard. Judy hadn’t fooled him; she was hurting and he was furious that she wouldn’t put this off until she’d had time to heal completely.

  “Are you coming or not?” She threw the question over her shoulder as she trotted ahead of him toward the beach.

  “Judy, slow down!” he shouted, racing after her.

  “No.”

  The wind carried her laughter and McFarland relaxed in his saddle, smiling as the sound washed over him. The last few weeks had drastically altered their relationship.

  He’d never spent time like this with a woman. A shared look could have more meaning than an hour’s conversation; a kiss in the moonlight could fill him with longing. She might have been innocent, but she aroused in him a sensual awareness far stronger than anything he’d ever known. When she laughed, he laughed; when she ached, he ached; when she was happy, he was happy.

  He spent as much of his day with her as his business would allow. For the first time, he delegated his duties freely. He’d always known that Avery Anderson was a competent manager, but in the past three weeks, he’d learned to fully utilize and appreciate the man’s talents.

  If McFarland needed to read over papers regarding his business interests, he’d often do it in the evenings. Content simply to be at his side, Judy would sit across from him in the library reading, a book propped open in front of her, while he handled his affairs. Often he found his interest wavering. Watching her was by far the greater joy.

  There’d been a time when he was reluctant to take an hour off; now he dedicated whole days to Judy. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Some inner part of himself must have known this would happen—that was the only possible explanation for the fact that he’d forced her to come to the island. For the very first time in his life he was utterly content. There were no more mountains to conquer, no more bridges to cross. There was nothing he desired more than what he possessed at that moment.

  “I’ve missed riding,” Judy said happily, breaking into his thoughts.

  He’d ridden only five or six times himself, preferring to spend any free hours with her.

  “John,” she said, her voice softening, “I thought I asked you to stop buying me gifts.”

  “I vaguely recall something to that effect,” he said glibly.

  “If you think you’ve fooled me, you’re wrong. I know exactly what’s going on.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of disregarding your wishes.” He did his best to disguise a smile.

  “I suppose you don’t think I’ve noticed the way Sam’s been walking around like a peacock. You’ve bought another horse.”

  Shaking his head, McFarland chuckled. “She’s a beauty. You’re going to love her.”

  “Oh, John, honestly. What am I going to do with you?”

  Love me. Marry me. Have children with me. Fill my life with joy. The possibilities were endless.

  “John, look,” Judy cried. “The kids are playing in the surf.”

  McFarland paused, watched their antics and laughed.

  “They haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks,” he said. “Go and talk to them. I’ll wait for you here.”

  “Wait for me?” She turned questioning eyes to him.

  “I’ll frighten them away.”

  Judy frowned. She understood what he meant, but it was time the children got to know him the way she did, the way he really was. “But you’re with me,” she said, climbing down from Princess. “Come on.” She held out her hand to him.

  McFarland felt a twinge of nervousness as he joined her. He hadn’t been around children much and if he admitted the truth, he felt as apprehensive as they did.

  “Philippe. Elizabeth.” Judy called their names and watched as they turned, then raced toward her.

  “Judy!”

  Arms went flying around her amid a chorus of happy cries.

  Judy fell to her knees and joyously hugged each one.

  “We heard you nearly died!”

  “There’s a nurse on the island now. Did you know that?”

  “Paulo got a new tooth.”

  “It’d take more than a fall to do me in,” she told them with a light laugh, dismissing their concern. She lifted her eyes to John’s, daring him to contradict her. “Children, I have someone I want you to meet.” She rose to her feet and slid her arm around John’s waist. “This is Mr. McFarland. He owns the island.”

  All the children froze until Elizabeth and Margaret curtsied formally, their young faces serious as they confronted John McFarland. The boys bowed.

  McFarland frowned, raised his brows at Judy and followed the boys’ example, bending low. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Did you build us the school?”

  “The nurse stuck a needle in my arm, but I didn’t cry.”

  “The doctor said I have to eat my vegetables.”

  The flurry of activity took him by surprise. Patiently, he was introduced to each child.

  �
�Judy. Judy.” Jimmy came running from the edge of the jungle, carrying a huge cage. “Did you see my bird?”

  He was so obviously proud of his catch that Judy paid a great deal of attention to the large blue parrot. “Oh, he’s lovely.”

  “I caught him myself,” Jimmy went on to explain. “He was trapped in the brush and I grabbed him and put him inside the cage.”

  The square box had been woven from palm leaves. “You did an excellent job.”

  “He sings, too. Every morning.”

  “I think you should set him free,” Margaret said, slipping her hand into Judy’s. “No one’s happy in a cage.”

  “But he sings,” Jimmy countered.

  “He’s such a pretty bird,” Philippe said, sticking his fingers into the holes of the cage. The parrot’s wings fluttered madly in an effort to escape.

  “I give him food. He’ll even let me hold him.”

  “But how do you know he’s happy?” Margaret persisted.

  “Because I just do!”

  “But how do you know he’ll be happy tomorrow?”

  “Because he will!”

  Judy felt the blood drain from her face. The chatter of the children abated. Even the ocean appeared to hold back the surf. Judy couldn’t take her eyes off the parrot, and her throat clogged with emotion. She was like that bird. She’d been coerced into coming here. John had forced her to leave everything she loved behind. He’d given her gift after gift, admired her, held her in high regard, but it had changed nothing. She was still in a cage, a gilded one, but nevertheless a cage. She could flutter her wings, trying to escape, but she was trapped as effectively as the parrot.

  “I…think I should get back to the house,” she said, her voice shaky.

  “It was too much for you,” John took her by the elbow and led her over to Princess. “You’ve gone pale,” he told her.

  Judy felt as though someone had robbed her of her happiness. Seeing the bird brought her own situation into clear focus. She’d been playing a fool’s game to believe she could ever be more than a plaything to John. He’d told her when she first arrived that she’d been brought to St. Steven’s to amuse him. She’d fulfilled that expectation well, so content was she with her surroundings.

  The ride back to the house seemed to require all her energy.

  “I’m contacting the doctor,” McFarland announced the minute they’d dismounted and the horses had been led away. “I knew it was too soon, but I went against my better judgment.”

  “No,” Judy said, hardly able to look at him. “I’ll go lie down for a moment. Then I’ll be fine.” That wasn’t true, but she needed an excuse to get away from him and think.

  A letter was waiting for her on the dresser in her room. She stared at the familiar handwriting and felt overwhelmingly homesick. Tears burned for release as she held the envelope and closed her eyes. Home. Her father. David. New York had never seemed so far from her, or so unattainable.

  The content of the letter had a curious effect on her. Suddenly in control of herself again, she marched out of her room and down the stairs.

  John was in his office dictating a memo to Avery when she approached him. He looked up, obviously surprised to see her standing here. “Judy,” he said softly. “Are you feeling better?”

  “I’m fine.” She noticed how blithely he smiled, unaware of the change in her. “John, I need to talk to you.”

  He dismissed Avery with a shake of his head. Judy closed the door after his assistant and turned to face him, pressing her hands against the door. Her lack of emotion astonished even her.

  “There was a letter from my family in my room when I returned.”

  “I’d heard one had been delivered.”

  She dropped her hands to her side. “My brother’s getting married.”

  “Good.” McFarland smiled. “It seems the shipping business has improved.” With a little subtle help from him. The Lovins need never know, and it eased his conscience to repay them in some small measure for sending Judy to him.

  “My father is thrilled with his choice and so am I. David has loved Marie for several years, but delayed the wedding because…well, you know why.”

  For having received such good news, Judy didn’t appear very happy.

  “John,” she said, boldly meeting his gaze. “I’ve been here for nearly three months now.”

  “Yes.”

  “You asked me and I came without question. I’ve never asked to leave.”

  A sense of dread filled McFarland. “What are you saying?”

  “I want to go home.”

  Nine

  “I won’t let you go,” McFarland said.

  Judy closed her eyes at the bittersweet pain. “I haven’t amused you enough?” At his blank stare, she continued. “That was the reason you brought me to the island, or so you claimed.”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “Then what does?”

  McFarland’s control was slipping and rather than argue, he reached for his pen and scribbled instructions across the top of a sheet. If he ignored her, maybe she would forget her request and drop the matter entirely.

  “John,” she said, “I’m not leaving this office until you answer me.”

  “I’ve already said everything I intend to. The subject is closed.”

  “The subject is standing in front of you demanding an answer!”

  “You’re my guest.”

  “But you won’t allow me to leave.”

  A strained silence fell between them. Judy’s breathing was fast and shallow. Her throat burned as she struggled to hold back her emotions.

  “John, please.”

  “You are my guest.”

  “So I may leave?”

  “No!” His rage was palpable. He didn’t know why, after all these weeks, she’d ask him to release her. His heart felt like a stone in his chest.

  The silence returned.

  When Judy spoke again, her voice was soft yet tortured. “Then I’m your prisoner.”

  She turned and left him, feeling as though she was living out her worst nightmare. She dared not look back; tears threatened but she refused to let them fall.

  McFarland watched her go, overcome by an unidentifiable, raw emotion. She called herself his prisoner, but there were chains that bound him just as strongly. She’d come to him and within weeks had altered the course of his life. He couldn’t afford to lose Judy—she was his sunshine, his joy. She’d brought summer to the dark winter of his existence. How could he let her go?

  Judy returned to her suite, weighed down by grief, sorrow, anger. She’d been happy with John and the island life. Everything had been good—until she’d seen the cage. Until she recognized the bars surrounding her. Perhaps she’d been blinded by her love for him and that was why she’d been able to tolerate this lack of choice, of independence. But now, like the bird wildly seeking escape, her wings were beating frantically, seeking freedom.

  She took her brother’s letter out of the envelope. For the third time, she read it. Every word was a form of torture. Things she’d taken for granted returned to haunt her. Bently and the funny way he had of speaking out of the corner of his mouth; the dining-room chairs that were a family heritage; the drapes that hung over her bedroom windows.

  Her beloved brother was getting married. Some of the weight lifted from her heart as she thought of David as a husband and someday a father. Marie would make him a good wife. His excitement and joy were evident in the letter. She could almost see him with his eyes sparkling and his arm around Marie’s shoulder. How Judy wished she could be with him to share in this special moment.

  At noon, although she had no appetite, Judy went downstairs, pausing just inside the dining room. John was waiting for her, standing at his end of the table, hands resting on the back of his chair.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked cordially.

  “No.” She dropped her gaze to the table. A small, beautifully wrapped gift lay beside her wat
er glass. She raised questioning eyes to John. “What’s this?”

  “Go ahead and open it.”

  She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t accept any more gifts. He couldn’t buy her as he’d bought everything else in his life. She wasn’t for sale. The only thing she wanted from John McFarland was the freedom to return home, and he wouldn’t give her that.

  Dutifully, she sat down and peeled away the paper. Inside was a diamond bracelet of such elegance and beauty that she caught her breath. “It’s beautiful.”

  John looked pleased. “I was saving it for just the right moment.”

  Judy gently closed the velvet box and set it aside. “Why now? Did you want to prove that my shackles are jewel-encrusted? You needn’t have bothered, John. I’ve always known that.”

  His face convulsed and, as he stared at her, his eyes grew dark and hot.

  Neither spoke another word during their meal, and when Judy walked out of the dining room, she pointedly left the bracelet behind.

  A week passed, the longest, most difficult week of Judy’s life. She didn’t ask John to release her again, but her desire to leave the island hung between them at every meeting. Although she avoided him, he seemed to create excuses to be with her. He chatted easily, telling her little things, pretending nothing had changed. Judy wasn’t that good an actress; she spoke only when he asked her a direct question. Although she tried to remain distant and aloof, it was hard.

  To work out her frustration, she spent hours riding across the island. The sweltering heat of late summer was oppressive. One afternoon, toward dusk, she changed from her riding clothes into her swimsuit.

  The pool was blissfully cool when she dove in. She hoped the refreshing water would alleviate the discomfort of the merciless sun and her own restlessness. She swam lazy laps, drawing comfort from the exercise.

  She hadn’t been in the water ten minutes when John joined her. As he approached the pool, Judy swam to the shallow end, stood up and shook the wet hair from her face. She defied him with her eyes, demanding that he leave and give her some privacy.