Authors: Sherryl Woods
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Series, #Harlequin Special Edition
Maggie was sitting on the porch. He could smell the faint scent of jasmine she always wore. Maybe she was waiting for him. Maybe she was sulking. Either way, at least he wasn't going to have to wake her from a sound sleep to get this over with before he lost the last of the false courage he'd bought himself with a couple of beers.
"I thought you might be in bfcd by now," he said,
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standing on the bottom step and waiting for some sign that he'd be welcome after the way he'd stormed off earlier. Not that a lack of welcome would turn him away, but it might change his tactics ever so slightly. He might be forced to resort to those flowers Mike had recommended, even if he had to go into the garden and yank them out of the ground. Right now, he was relying solely on himself and the message he needed to deliver.
"I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until we talked," she said.
"Then you knew I would be back?"
"You said you would be, so, yes, I believed you."
He gave a nod of satisfaction, then realized that on the moonless night, she couldn't see him. "Good. Then you do have some faith in me.. .in us."
"I want to," she said, her voice shaky.
"What will it take to convince you?"
"I honestly don't know."
"Does this lack of trust really have anything at all to do with me, or is it about your past relationships?" He'd realized somewhere between the farm and here mat it was all twisted together. Did she recognize the same thing?
"Both," she said at once, surprising him with the admission. At least she could see that he wasn't entirely to blame for all the doubts she had.
"What have I done, not in the past but to you, to inspire your distrust?"
"Nothing," she admitted at once. "But I do know your pattern, Rick. I've seen you change since we've been here, but I'm terrified to trust those changes."
"Patterns can be broken?at least I'd like to think some of them can be. Yours and mine, anyway. If we're
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going to talk about what we want, then you should know that I want to believe mat you and I have what it takes to make a whole new pattern, one we can live with forever. I want us to wind up like Matthew and Sally, together in our old age, not letting anything get between us."
The words hung in the air, and for a long time he thought she might not respond at all, but she finally whispered, "What do you mean?"
He grinned at her caution. It was plain she didn't intend to take a chance on misinterpreting. He could hardly blame her after the way they'd gotten it so wrong earlier tonight.
"In my own clumsy way, I'm asking you to marry me," he said. "Do you suppose I could come up there where I can see your face while I try to convince you about this?"
"I guess," she said, sounding doubtful about the wisdom of it.
Rick could see he was going to have his work cut out for him. That's why he'd taken a few precautionary measures to ensure his success. He'd taken them earlier in the day, but he had a hunch they were even more essential now.
Maggie was sitting in a rocker, so he took a seat in the one next to her. He set it in motion to match the somewhat agitated pace of hers.
"Here," he said, handing her a piece of paper.
"It's too dark. I can't read it," she said, clearly frustrated. "What is it?"
"A contract. I've bought a place a few miles from here."
"The orchard?" She guessed at once, not even trying to hide her disbelief and her excitement. "You actually bought it from Matthew and Sally?"
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"Yes."
"Did you do it just to help them out?" she asked, that familiar note of uncertainty in her voice.
Rick wondered how long it would take before he could wipe that need for hesitance away. He had to start trying now. "Actually, I thought it would make a good place for us to raise our kids," he began, then tried to sell the idea. He leaned toward her. "We'd be close to Melanie and Mike. The rest of your family is bound to turn up here at the cottage from time to time, so it won't be like you'll be separated from them. You've been able to do your job from here, but even if you had to give it up, there are other regional magazines that would welcome having you on staff, especially if you can guarantee them that we're a team and I'll shoot all your photos at a reasonable cost."
A gleam immediately lit her eyes. "What's your definition of reasonable cost?" she demanded.
She asked in a suddenly businesslike tone that had him smiling and trying to hide it. Even though he'd sidetracked her, he could tell he'd almost won.
"I think you'll find my rate acceptable," he assured her.
"Too vague," she retorted. "Spell it out for me."
He did laugh then. "Okay, here's what I have in mind. You'll use Sally's recipe and bake me an apple pie and eat it naked with me in bed, like we did the other night." He heard the chuckle she couldn't quite conceal. "Of course, the fee I charge the magazine will be in dollars and cents."
"Of course," she said primly.
"There's another thing," Rick said, digging into his pocket. He handed her a velvet jeweler's box. "I thought this might tie the deal together."
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"Buying an orchard was pretty impressive," she admitted.
"But this is sort of traditional, and something tells me that you need the traditional when it comes to the really important things," he said. "When we met, I thought you were a fairly unconventional woman, but I've found out differently. You're a lot more complicated than that."
She shoved the box back at him, and he thought for one heart-sinking moment that he'd blown it, after all.
"My hands are shaking," she whispered. "You open it. Besides, that's even more traditional."
? Rick had looked at a couple of dozen different rings, some flashy, some understated. He'd settled for something in-between. He removed the simple emerald-cut diamond from the box, then dropped down on one knee in front of her. When it came to tradition, he'd come here prepared to go for broke.
"Maggie D'Angelo, will you marry me? Will you let me spend the rest of my life proving that no woman on earth could entrance me and fascinate me the way you do?"
He waited for what seemed like an eternity for her reply, but when it came, it was the last thing he expected.
"I'm wearing shorts and a T-shirt," she wailed, her voice choked with sobs. "And no...no shoes."
Rick laughed, his heart suddenly lighter. "Mind telling me what that has to do with anything?"
"I should be dressed up, and there should be candles and music."
She sounded so forlorn, he said, "We can do this over tomorrow night. Of course, it won't be quite as much of a surprise." He started to withdraw the ring.
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"Oh, no, you don't," she said, then held out her left hand. "I love you, Rick. It scares me sometimes when I think about how quickly this happened and how much you matter. I know mat ring isn't a guarantee of anything, but I think it's time I take it on faith that we're strong enough to weather whatever comes along, even a parade of size-two women."
"Sweetheart, they're no competition for you at all. I love food too much to spend my life with someone who exists on yogurt and the occasional lettuce leaf."
"Then it's a good thing I can cook, isn't it?"
"It was the first thing I fell in love with," he said, then yelped when she pinched him. "Okay, the second thing, but now the list's so long, I can't even count that high."
"Nice save," she commended him, then held out her hand to admire the ring that was winking in the faint light shining from the living-room window. "You have excellent taste, Flannery."
"I picked you, didn't I?"
The smile that lit her face would stay with him forever. It appeared he'd gotten the words exactly right.
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Epilogue
"T
1 can't possibly put a wedding ^together in two weeks,"
Colleen D'Angelo protested whfen Maggie called to tell her mother about her engagemept. "Why on earth can't one of my daughters do things the traditional way and have a nice long engagement?"
Maggie laughed. "You should have brought us up to be less impetuous."
"So, it's my fault?"
"You're as good a person to blame as anyone. At least Rick and I are getting married in Boston, instead of in grandmother's garden at Rose Cottage the way Melanie and Mike did."
"You know perfectly well the priest will never agree to perform a ceremony on such short notice," her mother fretted.
"Then Ashley will marry us and we'll have a
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church ceremony later. She's a notary," Maggie said. "We want to get married at home, anyway. Just something small, Mom. It will be fine. We'll be up tomorrow to help with the preparations. I can't wait for you to meet Rick."
"I wish your father were here right now. Maybe he could talk some sense into you. Couldn't you at least wait till October? A fall wedding in New England is always lovely.'"
Maggie laughed. "We've already booked our honeymoon. We're going to Paris in September."
"Of course you would arrange things backward," her mother said with a sigh.
"We could forget about the wedding altogether," Maggie suggested slyly. "1 hear marriage is highly overrated. Living together could work nicely."
"Absolutely not! I'll manage. I always do. And your sisters will pitch in, I'm sure. Thank goodness that case of Ashley's is finally wrapping up. This wedding will give her something positive to look forward to. She's been taking a beating in the media."
"Why?"
"Everyone seems convinced her client is guilty, but she's defending him so aggressively, it's all but certain she'll win. I don't know how she'll live with herself if she finds out too late that everyone was right."
Maggie thought of Ashley's despondence on her last visit to Virginia. She must have known then that she was going to get hammered by the media for her passionate defense of her client. It must have been weighing on her terribly. She was used to being victorious, not vilified.
"I'm sure she's doing what she feels she has to,"
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Maggie told her mother. "Ashley has a very strong sense of justice as well as faith in the system."
"I know. I just pray this isn't one of those times when her faith is misplaced. But," she added briskly, "that's enough of that. Let's concentrate on making your wedding day perfect."
"As long as you guys and Rick are there, nothing else matters," Maggie said. "The frills aren't all that important."
"Well, they are to me," her mother said. "I'll have samples waiting for you when you get here."
"Samples of what?"
"Everything.. .dresses, cakes, flowers. And I think I know someone who could transform the living room on short notice. What about music? Do you want a string quartet?"
"Whoa!" Maggie pleaded. "Slow down. This is going to be a simple occasion, Mom."
"Simple doesn't mean it can't be memorable," her mother retorted. "Just leave it to me, darling."
"Please don't go overboard," Maggie said, knowing the words were falling on deaf ears. "I'll see you tomorrow."
When she'd hung up, she turned to Rick. "It's going to be a circus," she said, resigned to it.
He studied her. "Will you mind very much if it is?"
She touched his face. "Not as long as you're there beside me."
"Every second," he promised. "For the rest of our lives."
"We could elope," she suggested hopefully.
"And disappoint your mother? I don't think so. I want to start out making a good impression, not infuriating her."
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"Then prepare yourself, Flannery. You are about to fall victim to a tornado."
Maggie had been right. Rick had had no idea how quickly tuxedo fittings, cake selections and all the other trappings could fill up his days. He barely managed to steal ten minutes alone with his bride-to-be at the end of the day. Thank heavens, they'd decided to be married in two weeks. He wasn't sure he could have endured the pace for much longer.
Now the day had finally arrived and as he stood in one of the bedrooms that had been designated for the groom and his best man?Matthew?Rick waited for the expected jitters to set in. Nothing, not even a twinge. All he felt was a deep sense of anticipation.
"What time is it?" he asked Matthew.
"About five seconds since the last time you asked," the old man told him. "For a man who swears he's not nervous, you seem mighty jumpy to me."
"I'm not jumpy," Rick protested. "I'm eager. There's a difference."
"You'll have to explain that one to me," Matthew said.
"It's not important," Rick told him. "Do you think Maggie will be ready on time?"
Matthew chuckled. "I think Maggie's been ready for a long time now, a lot longer than you, in fact. You were the one dragging your feet."
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
The bedroom door opened, and Mike poked his head in. He grinned at Matthew. "You need any help in getting him out here?"
"Nope. I think he'll come peacefully."
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"Then it's time."
"Now?" Rick asked, suddenly overcome with anxiety.
"Now," Mike said. "Don't panic. All you need to do is get out there and keep your eyes on Maggie. Everything else will fall right into, place."
"Eyes on Maggie," Rick muttered. "Right." He glanced at Matthew. "Let's do it."
He walked into the living room and took his place in front of the bay window that had been filled with baskets of flowers. He kept his gaze pinned to the stairs that Maggie would descend.
Ashley came down first, dressed in a simple, but elegant pale blue satin suit. She took her place in front of him. Then came Melanie and Jo, wearing similar suits in a deeper blue.
Rick swallowed hard as the music changed. And then Maggie was there on her father's arm, looking as if she'd stepped out of the pages of one of those fashion layouts he'd shot through the years. How many bridal gowns had he seen in his lifetime, but none had taken his breath away as the sight of Maggie did. The white satin clung to curves and dipped low in the back. It was simplicity at its very best, seductiveness at its most discreet.