As Deep as the Ocean

by Serenity Woods

  It was because he was staying at the vineyard, she thought. How lovely that she’d found someone who adored the place as much as she did. And he’d been in the bay for years, since he was born in fact. He had ties to the place too, and she knew he’d open a vein and pour his lifeblood into the soil if he thought it would help to grow better grapes.

  He was listening to Sam talking to Ginger.

  “What do you do for a living?” Ginger asked.

  “I’m a baker.” Sam popped a green-lipped mussel in his mouth and licked his fingers.

  Ginger’s eyebrows rose. “Please tell me you live next to a butcher and a candlestick maker.”

  That made Sam laugh, and Mac smiled. Then he happened to glance over at Fred and caught her looking at him. Embarrassed, she went to look away, but found she couldn’t, caught like a butterfly in a net.

  Their vows had contained only the statements required by law, and there had been none of the elaborate phrases she knew most brides and grooms said to each other. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. To love and to cherish. Until death do us part. And yet even the one sentence she’d had to repeat had contained a ring of finality. I, Winifred Rose Cartwright, take you, Eamon James MacDonald, to be my lawful wedded husband.

  Jackie had said, Marriage is the union of two people, to the exclusion of all others, voluntarily entered into for life.

  Legally, she’d promised to honor that statement. It was only now, as she looked into his eyes, that she fully felt in her heart what she’d done.

  Oh shit.

  Mac’s smile held a touch of sympathy, as if he understood what was going through her mind. To her surprise, he winked at her before turning his gaze back to the others.

  She inhaled deeply and blew out the breath. Everything was going to be okay. She just needed time to come to terms with it.

  An hour passed, while Amber brought out plate after plate of food, and their glasses were repeatedly filled.

  Fred ate until she was full, but she was careful not to drink as much as she had during the night they’d had the wine tasting. She was going to have to be careful, living on a vineyard! It would be almost as bad as working in a chocolate shop.

  Pushing away the dish on which she’d had her dessert—an ice cream that had been pleasant enough, although she knew Ginger would be making some twice as nice—she saw that Sam had risen to take a walk outside. Leaving Mac telling a story to his mother and her sisters, she rose and went out, leaving the deck, and crossing the grass to where he was standing, looking down at the bay.

  “Hey,” she said as he turned and saw her coming. “You mind me joining you?”

  “Of course not.” He smiled. “That was a nice meal.”

  “It was okay. Ginger’s food will knock your socks off.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I bet.”

  They continued walking alongside the vineyard, down to where the ground fell away to the sea. She felt a little shy, knowing that he knew Mac so well. He was a good-looking guy, very boy-next-door, with ruffled hair and brown eyes. He also smelled of warm bread—presumably he’d been in the bakery that morning. Well, there were a lot worse things a man could smell of.

  “Thanks for coming,” Fred said. “I just wanted to say... I know you’re Mac’s best mate, and I’m sure you must have had some concerns about what we’ve done. I hope I’ve allayed any fears you’ve had.”

  He gave her an appraising look. “Not really, no.”

  That gave her pause for thought. “Oh. Um...”

  He sighed. “Okay, I admit that before I met you all, I couldn’t understand why he’d made the offer. Now, I can see it. You’re all genuine, lovely girls, and I can see how you won him over. And there’s no doubt he feels better. He was in a dark place after he discovered what his father had done, and for the first time he looks as if he thinks the world might be somewhere he wants to live.”

  “But...”

  “But that wasn’t why I was worried.”

  “Why are you worried?”

  Sam stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Because he has feelings for you.”

  Her eyebrows rose slowly. “I’m sure you’re wrong.”

  “No, I’m right.”

  “He said that?”

  “No. But I’ve known him long enough to be surprised at the dazed look in his eyes. He hasn’t had that in a long time. Maybe ever.”

  Fred’s jaw had dropped. “Sam...”

  “He’s telling himself that this marriage means nothing, and that it’s going to make no difference to the way you feel about him, but I don’t know if his heart believes it. I’m worried that deep down, he’s hoping that because you married him, it might make you more inclined to...” His voice trailed off.

  “To...” she said, her voice a squeak.

  He shrugged.

  To what? To fall in love with him? To stay with him? Her heart banged hard on her ribs, and for a moment she felt dizzy.

  “Don’t break his heart,” Sam said. “Don’t lead him on and let him think he has a chance.”

  The blood that had previously drained from her face rushed back, making her cheeks burn.

  “Unless he has,” Sam added, studying her blush with interest.

  “Yes. I mean no. I mean... this is none of your business, Sam, and I object to you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong!” she snapped.

  He gave a short laugh. “Right. That’s put me in my place.” He looked more amused than angry, though.

  Fred pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh God. I shouldn’t have said that. I swear, Sam, I have no intention—”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it.” He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right, it’s none of my business.”

  He turned back to face the restaurant. “Come on. I should get going anyway. Let’s head back.” He started talking about the harvest, and Fred did her best to answer his questions as they crossed back to the building. Inside, though, her head was whirling. He has feelings for you. Was Sam right? Surely not. She hadn’t known Mac long enough for him to develop feelings for her. She didn’t believe in love at first sight, and had always thought that people who protested they did were fooling themselves.

  And yet... She couldn’t deny the tingle she’d felt when she’d looked into his eyes that very first day on arriving at the vineyard.

  They entered the restaurant, and she shoved all thought of Sam’s comments away as they started saying their goodbyes to him and Megan. Sam had nothing to worry about. Mac didn’t have feelings for her. It was possible he found her attractive, and she’d be happy to admit the same, because what was there about him to dislike? Both Sandi and Ginger had said he was gorgeous—and Fred wouldn’t deny she thought the same. It was also true that he seemed to like them all, and he’d said that was the reason why he’d made the suggestion to get married, so he could help them.

  But did he have feelings for her? Feelings that went beyond initial attraction and pity for her plight?

  Of course not. The idea was preposterous.

  Chapter Sixteen

  MAC HAD SEEN FRED LEAVE the restaurant to walk with Sam. When they returned, he saw her blush, noticed Sam’s amused gaze, and raised an eyebrow at him, but Sam just shrugged and said he had to go.

  “Break a leg,” Sam said, shaking his hand.

  “Goodbye,” Mac replied firmly, hoping Fred hadn’t overheard. Luckily, she was saying farewell to his mother.

  “Stay in touch,” was all Sam said to Fred as he bent to kiss her cheek. He said goodbye to Sandi, teased Ginger when she knocked over the table decoration as she came around to say goodbye, and headed out to the taxi waiting in the car park.

  Mac glanced at Fred, but she was looking down, and he frowned suspiciously. “You okay?” he murmured. When she just nodded, he said, “Did Sam say something to upset you?”

  She looked up at him then, and gav
e a quick shake of her head. “No, no. It wasn’t him. I made a fool of myself and got embarrassed.” She gave a little laugh.

  “With Sam?” Mac was puzzled. Sam may have had his suspicions about Fred’s motives, but he was a nice guy, and he’d have cut off his right arm rather than make someone feel uncomfortable.

  She waved a hand though, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

  “I’m off then,” his mother said, coming up to them.

  “Okay, Mum, thanks for coming.” He kissed her.

  “Best of luck to you both,” she said. “I’m sure you’re all going to make the place into a huge success.”

  “We’ll do our best,” Fred said.

  Mac walked his mother out to the taxi. “I’ll be down later. Going to check out the vineyard first.”

  “Of course you are.” Megan glanced over her shoulder at where the three sisters were standing talking inside the restaurant. “She’s lovely, Mac.”

  “She is.” Mac smiled, his gaze caressing Fred’s slender form in her white tunic and long skirt. She was laughing at something Ginger had said, the dimples appearing in her cheeks.

  “You want to keep her?”

  Mac’s eyes widened, and he looked back at his mother. “What?”

  Megan smiled. “Give her time. Let her come to her own conclusions. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen when the time’s right.”

  “Mum, I don’t know what you think—”

  She rested a finger on his lips. “I’ll see you later.” Then she turned and got into the other waiting taxi, and it pulled away, leaving Mac standing there with his jaw sagging.

  He shut it with a snap. His mother was wrong. He liked Fred, and he was thrilled to think he’d been able to help her. But he hadn’t married her with the intention of making it permanent.

  He returned his gaze to the girls. Ginger had left—he suspected she’d gone into the kitchen, because if she disappeared that was normally where she could be found.

  Fred and Sandi had wandered to the doorway overlooking the vineyard. Mac walked back into the restaurant and picked up his wine glass, which still held an inch of brick-red Merlot. He sipped it, watching the girls, swirling the wine around his mouth, enjoying the flavor.

  He was married. He had the contract in his back pocket, their signatures declaring they’d taken a pledge to one another. The union of two people, to the exclusion of all others.

  Heat rushed through him, and he felt a tad dizzy. What had he done? He’d meant this to be like the sale of a car, a scribble on a bit of paper to cheat the stupid clause that Harry had, for some reason, made in his will. But all of a sudden, it felt so much more than that.

  Mac hadn’t given any thought to why Harry had made that clause, but for the first time he wondered what Fred’s father would think of the fact that Mac had, on purpose, treated his real will with disrespect.

  He’d meant this marriage to put things right, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Harry was glaring down at him from his cloud, furious that yet again his wishes had been flouted.

  Had Mac followed in his father’s footsteps? Maybe what he’d done was as bad as what James had done.

  He felt a swell of nausea, and had to take a deep breath to subdue it. No, he wasn’t like his father. He refused to believe it. James had faked the will with every intention of cheating the girls out of their inheritance. Mac had married Fred to put things right. That was the difference.

  Harry had made that clause in the hope of encouraging his daughters to find their Mr. Right and settle down, but he had been a decent guy, and he would have understood why Mac had done what he’d done, with good intentions.

  Still, he couldn’t shake his uneasiness at the thought that he was making a mockery of the institution of marriage. He frowned, giving a cynical laugh as he knocked back the last of the wine. Since when had he become Mr. Principled? His parents had divorced when he was two. His friends were unmarried and didn’t seem bothered about it. It was the twenty-first century, in New Zealand—marriage was outdated. It didn’t mean anything anymore.

  Deep down, though, he didn’t believe that. He wasn’t religious, and had no problem with the notion of a couple divorcing if they felt that a marriage hadn’t worked out—what was the point in staying together and making both of you miserable? Life was far too short for that. But he still felt that putting a ring on a girl’s finger was a step he would like to take one day. It demonstrated commitment. It was a symbol of the promise that, at that moment, you were determined you were going to love her forever. Forsaking all others.

  Fred wore no ring. There had been no lavish exchange of vows, no promise to love and honor, and certainly no promise to obey. His lips curved up briefly at the thought. But the commitment was there, all the same. Could he honestly look at the certificate in his pocket and decide it was any less meaningful than a promise he would make to the girl of his dreams? It certainly wasn’t any less legal. If he walked out now, went into the bay, and slept with the first woman he met, he’d be breaking that promise.

  It was just a bit of paper.

  The trouble was, it didn’t feel like just a bit of paper. There was no ring on his finger, but he could imagine what it would feel like to have one, a constant reminder of the girl who’d declared you were her Mr. Right. To love and to cherish. Until death do us part.

  Fred turned and he saw her inhale, then smile. He walked across the restaurant and out onto the deck.

  “Hey,” she said. “Hubby.”

  That made him laugh. “Hey, ole ball and chain.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to get old anytime soon,” she said wryly. “Oh well, it’s all done.”

  “No regrets?” Sandi said.

  “Nope.” They’d made the step—there was no point in admitting how he was feeling.

  “Are you going down to the vines?” Fred asked him.

  “Yeah. Thought I’d do one last check.” The seasonal pickers—mostly students, and often from abroad—worked on Saturdays until four, and it had just gone three p.m.

  “I’ll come with you. See you later,” she said to her sister.

  “All right.” Sandi turned to go, then stopped. “Hey, guys?”

  They both paused and glanced at her.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Ginger and I... we both appreciate what you’ve done. It can’t have been an easy decision.”

  Mac shrugged. “It wasn’t that tough.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fred’s lips curve up, but she didn’t say anything.

  “See you later,” Sandi said, and went back into the restaurant.

  Fred watched her go, flicked him a glance, and then they turned and started walking down toward the vines, Scully at their side.

  They walked for a little way in silence. It was a beautiful early autumn day, warm and fine. Fred reached out and plucked a couple of grapes from a hanging bunch as they passed, giving one to him, and he bit into it, enjoying the flood of sweetness in his mouth.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, surprising him.

  “Yeah.” He smiled at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You’ve been a little quiet. I wondered whether you were regretting it?”

  “No.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nothing like that.” He decided it was best to be honest, though. “It did cross my mind that your dad might be angry with me.”

  “I doubt it. He would know you’re trying to put things right.”

  “I hope so.”

  “It’s odd though, isn’t it,” she said. “What we’ve done... It wasn’t until I said the words that it hit me what we were doing.”

  “I know what you mean.” He glanced at her, watching her long hair swing forward when she bent to hook a vine back on the string. “Fred, I hope you don’t think that I believe marriage isn’t a serious commitment. Proper marriage, I mean.”

  She stopped and turned her bright hazel eyes on him. “Mac, it’s no
ne of my business what you think of marriage.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, his stomach in a knot. “I guess, theoretically. But it’s important to me that you understand.”

  “Why?”

  That threw him. “I don’t know.”

  They exchanged a long, long glance. Then they both turned and continued walking.

  Fred didn’t say anything more until they reached the group picking the grapes, and neither did he.

  WHEN THEY’D FINISHED making sure all the grapes had been transported up to the sheds, they headed back up, pausing when they got to where the path forked.

  “I think maybe it’s time I moved out,” Mac said awkwardly. “I don’t like that I’m still in the house. It belongs to you girls.”

  “Mac, it makes perfect sense that you’re here while the harvest is on. We’re just fine in the B&B, we’re quite comfortable, and it’s not ready to open to visitors yet. We need a while to get it up to scratch, plus I want to spend some time redecorating the house before Ginger and I move in. Sandi’s going to take the B&B flat, so it’ll just be the two of us. But there’s no rush.”

  “I suppose. But we’re going to need to make a statement with Jace on Monday that we live at separate addresses so we can start the two-year process rolling. I’ll be saying I’ve moved back to Mum’s, and I’ll give her address for now.”

  “Oh, yeah, of course.” She looked slightly bewildered. “Wow, that must be the quickest marriage in history.”

  He laughed and scuffed the ground with his heel. “I’ll make an appointment with Jace, shall I? He’ll be able to finalize the condition of the will and release the money to you.”

  “Yes. That would be good.”

  Suddenly, they were as polite as strangers. Which was what they were, he thought, somewhat sadly. The piece of paper in his pocket hadn’t changed that.