The Wedding Planner

by Millie Criswell

  “Nonsense. Women love flowers. And what woman wouldn’t love to travel and have expensive jewelry thrust at her?”

  “It seems the woman you’ve singled out, Mr. Morgan,” she reminded him, clearly wanting to say more, but not daring to overstep her bounds. “Perhaps you should consider a softer approach.”

  “Softer?” His forehead wrinkled at the suggestion. “In what way? I’m used to taking the direct approach, Grace. You know that. I hate pussyfooting around. In matters of business—”

  “This isn’t business, Mr. Morgan. It’s a matter of the heart.”

  Funny, Meredith had said something very similar. Adam released a sigh. He didn’t profess to understand women, which is probably why he’d remained a bachelor for so long. Delving into the female mind was like walking barefoot through a minefield. There was just no telling what one might step in and what might get shot off.

  The older woman looked extremely nervous for having spoken her mind and Adam tendered a reassuring smile. “I’ll give your suggestion some thought, Grace. Thanks.” She took the dismissal without further comment and closed the door quietly as she left, the familiar fragrance of her perfume lingering behind like sunshine on a bed of roses.

  Leaning back in his chair, the soft leather creaking in response, Adam put his feet up on the windowsill, stared out at the historic city and reached for the jar of sunflower seeds Grace thoughtfully kept filled on his desk.

  With its substantial old brick and stone buildings and tree-lined thoroughfares, Morgantown was a city of contrasts—old and new, brick and steel. What had started as a small, residential community on the banks of the Monongahela River had evolved into a bustling industrial city, thanks, in part, to his family’s coal mining and manufacturing business.

  His ancestor Colonel Zackquill Morgan had founded Morgantown back in 1766, and there’d been Morgans presiding over the city in one capacity or another ever since.

  Coal had made the Morgans extremely wealthy, and they in turn had repaid in kind by helping to transform the blue-collar community into a well-respected university mecca. West Virginia University was now the heart and soul of the area, and the largest employer.

  A robin trilled on a branch outside the window; the sun shone brightly, as if to defy Adam’s thunderous mood; but he took no pleasure in it, the warmer weather or much of anything else.

  Since the night they’d made love four days ago, he couldn’t get Meredith out of his mind. He wanted to be with her, kiss her and make love to her until they were both exhausted and numbed from the experience.

  He wanted to marry her.

  He wanted to hear her sighs of pleasure when they made love, her gentle snores while she slept. He wanted her face to be the first thing he saw upon awakening in the morning and the last thing he gazed upon when going to sleep at night.

  He wanted her in his life forever.

  Why couldn’t that be enough? Why did women always talk of love and hearts and flowers, as if that was all that was important in a relationship? What about mutual interests, respect, friendship, laughter? They had all that.

  Allison had been madly in love with Curtis Tremayne, and where had that gotten her? A cold slab of steel in a morgue, a coffin six feet under, that’s where.

  Love was highly overrated, in his opinion. It was extremely doubtful that his father had been madly in love with his mother. Theirs had been a marriage of opportunity, not a union of the heart, but they’d gotten along well for almost forty years before his death. True, the old man had had his share of affairs that no one ever spoke about, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care for Lilah in his own way.

  His mother had seemed contented enough. She’d shopped until her cavernous closets were filled with designer creations, surrounded herself with influential people, who were more concerned with appearances and pedigree than content, and traveled numerous times to the far reaches of the world.

  Her behavior had always seemed so exceedingly self-absorbed to Adam. But perhaps that had been to cover up her unhappiness. He’d never really thought about it until now, had never pondered why his mother had been so remote, so happy with superficial trappings and unhappy with her home life and children.

  Could her actions have been devices to protect herself from the emptiness she felt inside, from the humiliation her husband had heaped upon her by choosing younger women over her?

  Adam didn’t know the answers. Man-woman relationships were just so damn complicated, which is why he’d always shied away from them. The sex was great, but the rest of the emotional entanglements got in the way of a perfectly good alliance. There was something to be said for detachment, he’d decided.

  Morgan men are not demonstrative, his father had always said to him, as if to explain his lack of affection toward his children and wife.

  And maybe the old man had been right. It had always been difficult for Adam to express his emotions and deep-seated feelings. He tended to pull back when people got too close, too far into his comfort zone. Successful relationships outside of business had never been easy for him. Peter was his one and only true friend, and only because Peter had taken the initiative and would never take no for an answer.

  Now Adam was behaving the same way with Meredith—unable to take no for an answer, but unable to allow her inside, where she wanted to be.

  Meredith believed in happily ever after, which is why she read those sappy romance novels and chose to plan other peoples’ weddings. But Adam knew that, though happy endings might take place in a book, they didn’t exist in the real world, in the here and now. He’d seen firsthand too many unhappy relationships, supposedly based on love, flounder then die, and he wasn’t buying into the myth.

  “WHAT IS IT, Meredith? What’s wrong? You haven’t seemed yourself these past few days. Is there something going on at work you haven’t told me about?”

  Meredith heaved a deep sigh at her mother’s questions, cursing inwardly her perceptiveness in reading her so well. There was no way she could confide in the older woman about her problems with Adam. Her mother would offer no sympathy, no shoulder to cry on, and Meredith just wasn’t up to a lecture these days. Fighting off Adam’s pursuit was hard enough to handle without listening to her mother’s well-meaning, though skewed, advice.

  “I’m having difficulty with the Morgan wedding, that’s all,” she explained, ignoring her mother’s pinched expression at the mention of her adversary’s name. “The man is impossible to please. I found him three excellent bridal candidates and he’s dismissed them without plausible explanation.”

  The women she’d singled out had been exquisite. Breathtakingly beautiful, with figures that could rival any movie starlet, two held Masters degrees, while a third boasted a golf score of seventy-five, and all were able to converse on a variety of subjects.

  Though it had been difficult for Meredith to offer them up, knowing how perfectly suitable they were for Adam, she’d done so, anyway, because he needed a bride and because she wasn’t going to accept his proposal, no matter how many gifts and flowers he sent or how many times he asked—make that demanded—that she marry him.

  Louise tsked and shook her head. “I told you that man was trouble. Rich people are peculiar. They’ve got strange ways.”

  “Yes, that may be true,” Meredith agreed with a sigh, “but I needed the money. And I still have to fulfill my obligation of finding Adam a bride.” And if you knew who Adam had set his sights on, you’d be peeling yourself off the ceiling.

  Hesitating, and looking decidedly uncomfortable with what she was about to say, Louise’s cheeks filled with color. “Well, Merry, I don’t normally talk about such things, because you’re still young and…well, I’m just not comfortable with all this liberated type of nonsense, but—But some men don’t like women. They prefer—”

  “Mother!” Meredith’s voice held all of the mortification she felt. “Adam Morgan is definitely not of that persuasion.” And she wasn’t about to reveal how she knew that for
a fact.

  She quickly changed the subject. “Nurse Mullins said the doctor was here today. Are you sick? I hope you’re not keeping things from me.”

  “It was just routine, honey. Dr. Carpenter said my condition has deteriorated a bit, but nothing unexpected, and certainly nothing to be alarmed about.”

  Meredith reached out to take her mother’s hand. It was cold and clammy, another indication of her declining condition. She voiced the thoughts plaguing her conscience of late. “Perhaps I should sell the business, Mom. Maybe I would make enough money to—”

  “Stop talking nonsense, Meredith! You’ll do no such thing. We’ve discussed this before, and I’ve told you repeatedly that I’ve accepted the fact I’m going to die. I’ll not have you tossing away your only form of livelihood in some unselfish effort to prolong the inevitable.”

  Meredith blanched at the harsh reality of her mother’s words. Louise had always been more honest with herself and others than Meredith could ever hope to be. She was a realist while Meredith clung to her optimism like a lifeline. “Mom, please—”

  Louise’s militant expression changed suddenly, and she smiled softly, patting her daughter’s cheek. “No one lives forever, Merry. That’s just the way things are.”

  “But if I could have afforded to pay for a heart transplant…I feel so helpless, so responsible that I couldn’t do more to help you.”

  “Please stop that kind of talk, honey. I won’t stand for you berating yourself. You’ve done all you could. And though I may not always seem grateful, I am. More than you’ll ever know.

  “I’ve made my peace with God and with myself. And so should you.”

  MEREDITH WAS STILL BROODING over her mother’s words a short time later when the kitchen phone rang. She’d gone home to a cold dinner of ham sandwiches and chips, and she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, especially Adam.

  So, she was both surprised and relieved to hear “Hi, Meredith! It’s me, Megan,” when she finally answered.

  Relieved, yes, but suspicious nonetheless. A warning bell sounded loud and clear; Megan had never called her before. “Hello, sweetie. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, Uncle—Ouch! Stop that, Andrew. Me and Andrew were wondering if you could come over for dinner tomorrow night. We wanted to have a sleepover.”

  A sleepover! Now she knew for certain Adam was behind the child’s call. “As much as I’d like to see you and Andrew, sweetie—” she purposely left out mentioning Adam, hoping he was listening in “—I have plans for tomorrow evening.”

  “You do?” Silence, then “Hold on, okay?” A muffled sound ensued, followed by a series of whispers, then Megan came back on the line and said, “Can’t you cancel them? Me and Andrew really, really want to see you. It’s im-imperatif.”

  Imperative! As if a six-year-old child would actually say such a word. Oh, Adam, your denseness is showing again. Meredith smiled wickedly to herself. “I’ve got a date, sweetie. Someone I met at the nursing home.”

  She could hear Adam’s strangled “The nursing home! My God!” and her smile widened.

  “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, Megan, since you’re so young and all, but the man I met makes my blood boil, and I get this funny tingling in my toes whenever he walks into—”

  In the background she heard a loud bellow. Then Megan said urgently, “I gotta go now, Meredith. Uncle Adam wants to talk to you. Bye.”

  Before she could refuse, Adam’s deep voice filled her ear, and her blood did start to boil, and her toes did indeed begin to tingle, as did a few other places.

  “I don’t believe for a second, Meredith, that you are actually going out with a male nurse. Now stop this nonsense and marry me.”

  Meredith tried to keep her temper under control, though Adam’s imperious tone grated her composure. “Using Megan and Andrew to lure me back into your bed is not going to work, Adam. I told you before and I’m telling you again that I won’t marry a man who doesn’t love me.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence, then “I…I like you a lot. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  She should have been flattered. She doubted Adam liked that many people. But under the present circumstances she didn’t feel at all charitable and said, “It might, if I were a cocker spaniel.”

  “You are being totally obstinate and unreasonable. I am offering you the world, which is a far greater commodity than my heart.”

  “I’m beginning to think you don’t have a heart, Adam, which is really too bad, because I would never marry a man without one. I realize your upbringing has left you with issues that only you can resolve, and I’m sorry for that. But I won’t spend the rest of my life with a man who’s passion for model trains and sunflower seeds exceeds his passion for me.”

  “Meredith.”

  There was a great deal of pain in that one word, but she chose to ignore it. “And please don’t keep sending me gifts and flowers. I’m sure you realize by now that material things are not going to change my mind about marrying you.” Though the tickets to Europe had given her pause, for about fifteen seconds.

  “But I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, and Meredith’s heart began fluttering strangely, though she did her best to ignore that, too.

  “Soon you’ll have a new wife to focus your attention on. I suggest you stop being so picky and choose one of the women I’ve presented.”

  “None were acceptable.”

  “I’m running out of candidates, and you’re running out of time, Adam. You need to take action. Make a decision.”

  “I’ve made my decision.”

  She bit her lip, dreading to hear who he had chosen. Was it the blonde with the porcelain complexion—not a freckle in sight on that one—or the golf enthusiast with the long legs that didn’t quit? Either one would make him an ideal wife.

  “Great!” she said with far more enthusiasm than she felt. “Which one’s it going to be?”

  “You.”

  And then he slammed down the phone before she could scream vile names at him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Despite Meredith’s adamant refusal to marry him, Adam was not about to give up. If gifts and flowers wouldn’t soften her, if Megan’s sweet pleas couldn’t get a rise out of the stubborn woman, then Adam had no recourse but to visit the nursing home—and at the same time check out this male nurse Meredith supposedly had a date with—and enlist the aid of her mother, who, he hoped, had more common sense than her daughter.

  The following morning found him in Louise Baxter’s suite of rooms at the Pleasant Acres Nursing Home, but there was nothing pleasant about the look the woman was directing at him from her chair by the window. The reception was so chilly he could have frozen TV dinners without refrigeration.

  “How dare you come here, Mr. Morgan! You’ve got gall, I’ll give you that.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

  Adam was used to dealing with prickly competitors and antagonistic business associates, but he’d never felt the out-and-out hostility—borderline hatred —that was being bulleted at him by Meredith’s mother.

  Did the older woman know of his and Meredith’s intimate relationship? It seemed highly unlikely that a grown woman would confess such a thing to her mother. Or was Mrs. Baxter fearful he had used and intended to discard her only daughter?

  Seating himself on the love seat nearby, he intended to set the record straight, ease her mind a bit. “Mrs. Baxter,” he began, “let me assure you I have only Meredith’s best interest at heart. I plan to marry her, and I was hoping to gain your support in my efforts to do so. You see, Meredith isn’t wholly enamored with the idea, and I thought you might—”

  Her head jerked around so quickly, her lips twisted so menacingly, Adam thought he might be viewing a showing of The Exorcist. The devil definitely had a hold of Louise Baxter at the moment.

  “Are you out of your mind, Mr. Morgan, or just so damn
arrogant that you think you’re the catch of the day? You are the last man I would ever want my daughter to marry. I don’t care how much money your family has. Your father was an unfeeling despot who allowed his employees to work in unsafe and unsanitary conditions. My husband Henry died working for your precious company. I’ll not sacrifice my daughter, as well.”

  Adam’s mouth dropped open. He had no idea Meredith’s father had worked for Morgan Coal Mining. Why hadn’t she ever mentioned it? The news apparently accounted for the inhospitable reception he’d received from her mother, and was quite possibly the reason Meredith was so hesitant to marry him. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Baxter. I didn’t know.”

  She seemed taken aback by the admission, but only momentarily. “Meredith didn’t tell you about Henry’s death?”

  He shook his head, his sweaty palms pressing down on his thighs. “No. I’m sorry. If I’d known—”

  Her laugh was caustic enough to eat through metal. “You’d do what, Mr. Morgan? Even your money can’t bring back the dead.”

  Adam felt his cheeks warm—something totally out of character for him. But then, he’d never conversed with Satan’s handmaiden before. Reeling in his anger, he said, “I meant—”

  She cut him off again. “My husband died of black lung disease, but Henry died long before the ailment finally took him. A man who loses his ability to work and support his family, who’s lost his pride and manhood, has no reason to live. Leastways, that’s how Henry looked at it.

  “Your company never provided my husband with any benefits beyond the paltry allotment he received from the union, which was barely enough to bury him. Your father could have helped us survive, Mr. Morgan. Helped us and countless others like us who lived their lives in shame and squalor because Morgan Coal was a cold, heartless employer who just didn’t give a tinker’s damn.”

  “Mrs. Baxter, please.” He held out his hands beseechingly, vowing silently to get to the bottom of her accusations. Morgans had always treated their employees well, certainly with respect and consideration. Maybe not like family, but better than most, and Adam didn’t understand what could’ve possibly happened to Henry Baxter.