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Cindy and the Prince

Page 14

by Debbie Macomber


  Thorne reached for her, astonished anew at how right it felt to hold her. He held her tight and sighed in relief. He had his Cindy, his princess, his love, and he wasn’t going to lose her again.

  “That night was all a game,” she whispered. “I never dreamed…never hoped you’d come to care for me.”

  “The magic never stopped and it never will. You’re mine, Cindy Territo. And I’m yours.”

  “But, Thorne, surely you understand now why I couldn’t let you know.”

  “Do you think it matters that you’re a janitor? I love you. I want you to share my life.”

  Cindy tensed. “Thorne, I’m scared.”

  “There’s no reason to be.” His hand smoothed the curls at the back of her head.

  “Are you crazy?” Cindy asked with a sobbing laugh. “Look at us.”

  Thorne blinked.

  “You’re standing there in your thousand-dollar suit and I’m wearing bargain-basement blue jeans.”

  “So?”

  “So! We’re like oil and water. We don’t mix.”

  Thorne smiled at that. “It just takes a little shaking up. You can’t doubt that we were meant to be together, Cindy, my very own princess.”

  “But, Thorne—”

  He kissed her then, cutting off any further objection. His mouth settled firmly over hers; the kiss was both undeniably gentle and magically sweet. When he held her like this, it was easy to believe that everything would always be wonderful between them.

  “I want to meet your family.”

  “Thorne, no.” Cindy broke out of his arms, hugging her waist.

  He looked puzzled. “Why not?”

  “Because—”

  “I’ll need to meet them sometime.”

  Her uncle Sal’s contorted, angry face flashed before Cindy. She knew he disapproved of Thorne. If Cindy were to bring Thorne to the apartment, Sal would punch first and ask questions later. Any of her uncles would behave the same way. Her family was highly protective of all their loved ones, and there’d have to be a whole lot of explaining before Cindy brought Thorne into their midst.

  “Meet them?” Cindy repeated. “Why?”

  “Cindy.” He held her squarely by the shoulders. “I plan to marry you. If you’ll have me, of course.”

  She stared at him, overwhelmed by happiness—and then immediately swamped by doubts.

  “You will be my wife, won’t you?”

  He asked her with such tenderness that Cindy’s eyes brimmed with tears. She nodded wildly. “Yes…”

  Thorne relaxed.

  “No,” she said quickly, then covered her face with both hands. “Oh good grief, I don’t know!”

  “Do you love me?”

  Her response was another vigorous nod.

  “Then it’s settled.” He removed her hands from her face and kissed her eyes and her nose. Then his lips descended slowly toward her mouth, pausing at her earlobe, working their way across the delicate line of her jaw…

  “But, Thorne, nothing’s settled. Not really. We…I need time.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you time.”

  —

  The organ music vibrated through the church. Cindy stood at the back of St. Anthony’s and her heart went still as the first bridesmaid, holding a large bouquet of pink rosebuds, stepped forward. The second and the third followed. Cindy watched their progress, and her heart throbbed with happiness. This was her wedding day and within the hour she would experience the birth of her dreams. She would become Thorne’s wife. Somehow they’d crossed every hurdle. She’d claimed she needed time. He’d given it to her. She’d been so sure her family would object, but with gentle patience Thorne had won over every member. Now it was June and almost six months had passed since the night of the Christmas Ball. Thorne had convinced her the magic of that night would last throughout their lives, and finally Cindy could believe him. There wasn’t anything in this world their love couldn’t overcome. They’d proved it.

  Thorne stood at the altar, waiting for her. His eyes were filled with such tenderness that Cindy had to resist the urge to race into his arms.

  His smile lent her assurance. He didn’t look the least bit nervous, while Cindy felt as if a swarm of bees was about to invade her stomach. From the first, he’d been the confident one. Always so sure of what was right for them. Never doubting. Oh, how she loved him.

  The signal came for four-year-old Carla to join the procession, and dressed in her long lavender gown, the little girl took one measured step after another.

  Cindy stood at the back of the church and looked out over the seated guests. To her left were the people who’d loved and nurtured her most of her life. Aunt Theresa sat in the front row, a lace handkerchief in her hand, and Cindy saw her dab away an escaped tear. Cousins abounded. Aunts, uncles, lifelong friends, Vanessa, Bob Knight, and others who’d come to share this glorious day. She lifted a hand to the pearl comb Thorne had returned to her. The combs secured her delicate veil. Cindy thought of her mother and how happy she would’ve been today.

  To her right was Thorne’s family. Wealthy, cultured, sophisticated. St. Anthony’s parking lot had never hosted so many Cadillacs and Mercedes, nor had this humble sanctuary witnessed so many designer dresses and expensive suits. But they’d come, filling the large church to capacity, wanting to meet the woman who was about to marry Thorne Prince.

  The organ music reached its apex when Cindy stepped onto the trail of white linen that ran the length of the aisle. The train of the satin-and-lace dress that had been worn by both her mother and her aunt flowed behind her. Cindy walked at a slow and stately pace, each resounding note of the organ drawing her closer to Thorne, her prince, her love.

  The congregation stood and Cindy felt a surge of excitement as the faces of those she loved turned to watch her progress.

  —

  Thirty minutes later Cindy moved back down the same aisle as Thorne’s wife. Family and friends spilled out of the church, crowding the steps. Cindy was repeatedly hugged and Thorne shook hand after hand.

  The limousine arrived, and with his guiding hand at her elbow, Thorne led her down the steps and held open the car door.

  Almost immediately, he climbed in after her.

  “Hello, Mrs. Prince,” he whispered, his voice awed. “Have I told you today how much I love you?” he asked.

  “You just did that with a church full of witnesses,” she reminded him softly. “I do love you, Thorne. There were so many times I didn’t believe this day could ever happen, and now that it has, I know how right it is.”

  He gathered her in his arms and kissed her to the boisterous approval of their guests, who were still watching from the sidewalk.

  “Did you see the banner?” Thorne asked, pointing to the church.

  “No.”

  “I think Vanessa had something to do with that.”

  Cindy laughed. There, above the doors, a banner was hung, the words bold and bright for all the world to read:

  CINDY AND HER PRINCE

  LIVED HAPPILY EVER

  AFTER

  For Merrily Boone, my friend and fellow writer

  BALLANTINE BOOKS BY DEBBIE MACOMBER

  Any Dream Will Do

  If Not for You

  A Girl’s Guide to Moving On

  Last One Home

  Rose Harbor Inn

  Sweet Tomorrows

  Silver Linings

  Love Letters

  Rose Harbor in Bloom

  The Inn at Rose Harbor

  Blossom Street

  Blossom Street Brides

  Starting Now

  Christmas Novels

  Merry and Bright

  Twelve Days of Christmas

  Dashing Through the Snow

  Mr. Miracle

  Starry Night

  Angels at the Table

  For a complete list of books by Debbie Macomber, visit her website at debbiemacomber.com.

  About the Author

  DEBBIE MACOMBER,
the author of Any Dream Will Do, If Not for You, Sweet Tomorrows, A Girl’s Guide to Moving On, Last One Home, Silver Linings, Love Letters, Mr. Miracle, Blossom Street Brides, and Rose Harbor in Bloom, is a leading voice in women’s fiction. Thirteen of her novels have reached #1 on the New York Times bestseller lists, and five of her beloved Christmas novels have been hit movies on the Hallmark Channel, including Mrs. Miracle and Mr. Miracle. Hallmark Channel also produced the original series Debbie Macomber’s Cedar Cove, based on Macomber’s Cedar Cove books. She has more than 200 million copies of her books in print worldwide.

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  #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Debbie Macomber delivers an inspiring novel of friendship, reinvention, and hope in

  Any Dream Will Do

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  Available from Ballantine Books

  PROLOGUE

  “I need the money.”

  My brother’s eyes showed a desperation I had never seen in him before.

  “Shay,” he pleaded, “you don’t understand. If I don’t have it by tomorrow night, they will kill me.”

  “They?” I repeated. “Who are they?” But I knew.

  Caden had been waiting for me outside my tiny apartment that I shared with three roommates, pacing in front of my door when I got off work at the bank. I hadn’t seen him in weeks, which was never a good sign. In some ways, I was grateful he’d stayed out of my life. This was my chance, the first real one I’d had, and my brother was trouble. “Tell me what happened,” I said as I unlocked my apartment. He followed me inside and rammed his fingers through his hair with enough strength to uproot several strands.

  “It’s complicated…”

  It always was with Caden. I’d been looking out for him nearly his entire life, but for once I had to think about myself. My gut was churning as I set the teakettle on the stove, afraid of what he was going to tell me. Caden had met a lot of his bad connections through me and one boyfriend in particular. I’d fallen in deeper with Shooter than I’d ever intended, but through a community program I’d managed to break away from that lifestyle. With the help of one of the counselors I’d landed a job, a good one at a bank. For the first time in my life I had a chance at making something of myself. I had a shot at getting away from the gangs and the drugs and the lifestyle that would eventually lead to either prison or death. I had a small taste of what the future could be if I stayed away from people determined to hold me down. I’d made mistakes. Big ones, but I was working hard to put that behind me.

  I should have known it wouldn’t work. Not for someone like me. Caden was here to remind me I’d been living a pipe dream.

  “Who’s threatening to kill you?” I asked again, already anticipating the answer. It was Shooter or one of his gang members.

  My brother closed his eyes and gripped hold of my forearm hard enough to cause a bruise. “You know.”

  “You’re hanging with the Angels again?” I’d repeatedly warned Caden to stay away from the gang, which was anything but angelic.

  He didn’t respond, which was answer enough.

  My hands trembled as I brought down two mugs and reached for the tea bags. My back was to Caden. “How much do you need?” I asked as I gritted my teeth. I’d managed to save a few hundred dollars. All I could do was hope that would be enough.

  He hesitated before blurting out, “Five thousand.”

  “Dollars?” I gasped. The figure stunned me to the point my knees felt weak, as if they were no longer capable of holding me upright. Caden had to know that amount was impossible for me. No way could I come up with that much. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Can you borrow it?” he pleaded. His dark brown eyes, so like my own, were wild, his voice frantic. “I’m not joking, Shay. If I don’t hand over the money by tomorrow I’m a dead man.”

  Doing my best to remain calm, I looped a long strand of my auburn hair around my ear, racking my brain. No one was going to loan me that kind of cash. Working as a bank teller, I barely made enough to get by myself. Between rent and my accounting classes, I was already stretched financially. The few dollars I’d managed to save came from doing without lunch and eating ramen noodles for dinner.

  Before I could explain that the possibility of a loan was hopeless, Caden tried again. “What about the bank?” he suggested, his gaze holding mine.

  A tingling feeling started at the base of my neck and worked its way down my spine. Even before I answered, I knew what Caden was thinking.

  My brother lowered his voice as if he expected someone was listening in through the thin apartment walls. “Can you get the money from the bank?” he asked.

  “You mean a loan? No, they aren’t going to loan me that kind of cash on what I make. I don’t have anything for collateral.” While I had a driver’s license, I used public transportation. No way could I afford a car. Not even a scooter. Caden knew that.

  “Not a loan, sis. The bank isn’t going to miss it…at least not for a couple days. You take the money, and before anyone notices I’ll have it for you to replace, no one will even know.”

  The knot in my stomach tightened to the point of pain. Surely Caden knew what he was asking me. I had hope for the first time since our mother died, and now he was asking me to give it all up for him. The bank would miss that money and it wouldn’t take them five minutes to figure out I was the one who took it.

  Stiffening my spine, I decided then and there I wasn’t going to throw away my future because my idiot brother had gotten himself into this kind of trouble.

  “I can’t. The bank doesn’t work like that. The missing money will be discovered the same day.”

  “Shay, please. You know I wouldn’t ask this of you if I wasn’t desperate.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  Caden slammed his fist against the tabletop. “Do you want me dead?” he shouted.

  I flinched and shrunk back, half expecting him to hit me. It was what our father would have done. “I…”

  “If you don’t help me, you’re signing my death warrant.”

  The kettle whistled as the water started to boil. I removed it from the burner and noticed how badly my hands were trembling. Caden was my brother, my only living relative. I’d looked after him when our mother died and later after our father passed, although his death had been a blessing, as far as I was concerned. Despite everything I had sacrificed for Caden, I tried my best to help him. But it seemed he was determined to continue to make poor choices. I wanted to rant at him for being weak, but then I had been weak, too. I felt responsible for introducing him to the Angels.

  “Where will you get the money to repay me?” I asked.

  Caden paced the tiny kitchen and ignored the mug I offered him.

  “People owe me.”

  “Five thousand dollars?” I asked, unable to hide my doubt.

  “I swear on our mother’s life. I’ll have the money by the end of the week.”

  Our mother had been everything to us. Everything. Caden had never sworn on her life before. I wanted to believe him but remained uncertain. He’d let me down countless times and I wasn’t sure I should trust him. Not that it would matter. Even if I did replace the money, I’d lose my job.

  Burying my face in my hands, I sank into the chair and closed my eyes. “Let me think.”

  “While you’re thinking, the minutes are ticking away.” He sounded more angry than worried now, furious with me for not immediately agreeing to his plan. “I can’t believe you. I’m your brother. You could save my life and you need to think about it?”

  I exhaled a staggered breath. “You’re the one who got into this mess, not me.”

  Caden’s face fell as if I’d wounded him. He fell to his knees and pressed his forehead against my legs as he’d done a
s a child after our mother died. “I don’t know what else to do,” he cried. “They’re going to kill me, Shay, and when they do, it won’t be quick and easy. They’ll want to make an example of me. They’ll start by breaking all my bones, and then…” He started to cry, his shoulders shaking with fear.

  I placed a comforting hand on his back. “Can’t the Angels wait a couple days until you have the money?” I whispered, hoping the gang would be reasonable if they knew it was coming. I wove my fingers into his hair the way Mom would have done. “Don’t you have some collateral to offer?”

  Caden exhaled slowly. “I owe more people than the Angels…these people aren’t willing to listen to any more excuses. The collateral they’d want is either one of my arms or a leg.”

  I gasped, wanting to weep that my baby brother had gotten involved with loan sharks. Men who were thugs and criminals. All Caden and I had in this world was each other. If I was desperate, the one person I could reach out to for help would be my brother.

  “You said you can replace the money within a couple days?”

  He raised his head from my knee, his gaze wide and hopeful. “I swear,” he said, gripping hold of my hand and pressing his lips to it.

  “I hope you realize what will happen to me if I do this.” He had to understand the consequences for me. Best-case scenario, I’d get fired from a job I considered my only shot at a real future. Worst case, I’d be incarcerated, even if I did return the money. No way would that amount of missing cash go unnoticed.

  “I promise you, Shay, you won’t go to prison,” he said. “No way would I let my sister end up behind bars.”

  —

  Two months later, I accepted the guilty plea for embezzling as recommended by my court-appointed attorney. From the Seattle cell, I was placed on a transport bus from King County jail and driven across the Tacoma Narrows bridge to the Washington Corrections Center for Women in Purdy, Washington.

 

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