Some Kind of Wonderful

by Debbie Macomber

  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 that 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 had 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 from them 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 more than 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 she 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 business manager 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.

  The afternoon went smoothly after that, but when they’d finished, Avery presented him with a brief but precise letter of resignation.

  McFarland read it over twice, convinced there must’ve been some mistake. There wasn’t; Avery was leaving him.

  In an effort to think through this unexpected turn of events, McFarland got two cold beers and decided to visit Sam. To his additional shock, he discovered that the stableman regarded him with a black scowl.

  “Don’t tell me she’s got you on her side as well?” McFarland barked, angry because he should’ve known better. She’d had Sam twisted around her little finger from the minute she’d tamed Midnight. “Doesn’t even one of you recognize the hand that feeds you? I don’t believe it. Not you, too?”

  In response, Sam chuckled, ambled to the back of the barn, and brought out two rickety chairs.

  “Women aren’t worth the trouble they cause,” McFarland said, pulling the tab from the aluminum top and guzzling a long swallow.

  Sam joined him. “Can’t say I blame you. You’d do well to be rid of her.”

  McFarland wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t plan to keep her on the island? Not with the way she’s been acting.”

  McFarland planned exactly that. He had no intention of letting her leave. She was there of her own free will—at any rate, she’d chosen to come. This disagreement between them was a spat, nothing more. She’d infringed on his private life and he wouldn’t stand for it. Given time, she’d acknowledge that and she’d apologize and the situation would return to the way it used to be.

  “She’s a busybody, that one,” Sam added. “Why, look at the way she stuck her nose in your affairs, dictating how you should run your business. No man should be expected to put up with that kind of intrusion.”

  McFarland nodded slowly, a little taken aback by Sam’s vehemence.

  “Look at the way she’s always needling you, making one demand after another. I hear she constantly wants gifts.”

  McFarland shook his head. “She’s never asked for a thing. Not for herself, anyway.”

  Sam took a swallow of beer. “If I were you, I’d put her in a rowboat and cast her out of my life. Let her fend for herself. As you said, she’s a nuisance. She isn’t worth the trouble.”

  McFarland mumbled something unintelligible. “Who said she was a nuisance?”

  “You did! I heard you tell her so myself. You should’ve seen the look in her eyes.” Sam’s laugh was loud and boisterous. “She’s full of pride and spirit, that one. You’d better break it if you intend to keep her around.”

  “What else did I say to her?”

  “Oh, lots of things.”

  “What things?”

  McFarland felt sick as Sam told him. He’d been so exhausted that he didn’t remember half of it. Now, every word, every syllable, was like a vicious punch to his abdomen.

  McFarland crushed the aluminum can with his hands and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “You’re going to get rid of her, aren’t you?” Sam asked, and noting the expression on McFarland’s face, he chuckled, pleased with himself.

  A little reverse psychology wouldn’t go amiss, Sam figured. It worked with stubborn horses. Why not with their owners?

  Chapter 7

  Once again McFarland was in the uncomfortable position of having to seek Judy’s forgiveness. His behavior gnawed at his conscience and wouldn’t let him sleep. He rolled over and stared at the darkened ceiling. His heart constricted, and his first serious doubts concerning what he was doing with Judy began to surface. He’d seen her picture in some newspaper and his interest had been awakened. He didn’t quite understand what craziness had driven him to bring her to his island. In the weeks since her arrival, his life had been drastically affected. She’d been open, happy, guileless, and unbelievably gentle when she had every excuse to hate him. He’d berated her, lashed out at her, and still she turned those beautiful eyes on him and managed to smile.

  By everything that was right, he should send her back to her family. His heart pounded slowly, painfully, at the thought of never hearing the sound of her laughter again, or having those eyes smile into his, or seeing her ride across his land with her hair in disarray. A heaviness weighed on his chest.

  He couldn’t do it—sending her away was unthinkable. The tenderness in her eyes and her smile filled him with an exhilaration he couldn’t analyze. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. She made him feel things he’d never experienced, emotions he’d fought against most of his life. All he knew w
as that he needed her on St. Steven’s for now. He’d deal with tomorrow later.

  —

  Judy punched her pillow and battled another wave of depression. She was wide awake. With nothing better to do, she climbed out of bed, dressed, and crept out of the house, heading for the stables.

  She felt incredibly weary.

  The sky remained dark, but the promise of dawn lay just over the horizon. She could hear Sam stirring in the back of the barn as she saddled Princess and rode toward the beach.

  —

  Sam’s features were twisted in a scowl as he searched McFarland’s face in the half-light of early dawn.

  “She’s gone,” he announced harshly.

  “Who?” McFarland stood beside Midnight, already saddled and waiting for him.

  “Princess.”

  McFarland’s eyes widened. No one would dare steal the mare. Only Judy rode her. “Has anyone checked the house to see—”

  “The maid says there’s no one in her room. Her bed barely looks slept in.”

  McFarland’s own features hardened with determination, and in a single motion he swung his weight onto Midnight’s back. “What direction does she usually take?”

  Sam gestured widely with both hands. “North. Sometimes east.”

  “I’ll head west.”

  Sam’s nod was curt, his eyes boring into McFarland’s. “You bring her back. She belongs here.”

  McFarland raced out of the yard. He wouldn’t come back until he found her. He’d punish whoever had helped her in this underhanded scheme. What good was security if she could carry out her own escape? He’d fire the lot of them, but first he had to find Judy.

  McFarland would’ve ridden from one side of the island to the other, torn down the entire jungle to stop her. To his utter astonishment, all it took was a wild fifteen-minute ride. He came upon her with such ease that his heart began to slam against his chest. He paused, his frantic heartbeat stilling as he raised his eyes in gratitude.

  She was walking on the beach with Princess following behind. The reins were draped over her shoulder as she ambled along. Although McFarland was high on the ridge above, he could see how distressed Judy was. Her head hung low, her shoulders were hunched, and she moved slowly, despondently. He didn’t need to see her tear-streaked face to know she’d been crying. That realization had the oddest effect on him. Guilt overwhelmed him, and his chest constricted with a pain that was razor sharp. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Witnessing her sorrow brought such an intense desire to protect her that he could hardly breathe.