by Baird, Ginny
“I’m all right,” he told his worried daughter-in-law before glancing once again at Connie. “For now.”
Mac pulled the handkerchief that Ollie had loaned him from his pocket to wipe his brow. And he thought there was excitement in the wild. None of his adventures in the great outdoors had anything on this.
Linda turned toward Mac with a knowing look. “See what I mean?” she asked.
Mac tucked away his hanky and took another sip of champagne. “I think I’m starting to get it.”
“Come on,” Connie told him. “It’s time you met my grandfather.”
“You mean right now?”
“No time like the present,” she said, tugging him forward.
Mac didn’t know why he felt nervous about meeting the octogenarian, but somehow the looming encounter set him slightly on edge. Maybe it was those inward seeds of guilt about deceiving this family that had bloomed the moment he’d stepped through the palatial front door. Or maybe it was the scowl on the old man’s face as he lowered his dark-rimmed glasses and appraised Mac with a frown.
“Grandpa!” Connie proclaimed, leaning down to plant a kiss on his head while she squeezed his shoulders in a hug. “You don’t look a day over sixty.”
He coughed once into his balled-up fist. “I wish I felt that on the inside.”
Connie grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and pivoted him toward Mac. “I’d like you to meet my new fiancé, Mac.”
Grandpa hacked again. “New fiancé? What happened to the old one?”
Connie hung her head. “He got away,” she said softly.
“Speak up, granddaughter! Can’t hear you above the commotion!”
The band played on as servers bustled about the room, depositing cake and ice cream at the various place settings.
“I said, Walt left me!” she shouted louder.
Wendell Senior raised his brow. “Left you? What a dolt that one was.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Never liked him anyway.” He turned his eyes on Mac and studied him from the top of his hairy head all the way down the too-tight lines of his suit and landing at his hiking boots. “Hmm,” he said, adjusting his glasses to get a better look. “Uh-hum.” He returned his gaze to Mac’s. “And just what is it that you do, young man?”
“Well, sir, I—”
“He runs his own business,” Connie shared.
Mac glanced at her, then continued to address Wendell Senior. “Yes, sir, a camping store. I mean, I did. That was before it—”
“You don’t need to bore Grandpa with the details,” Connie chirped.
“Did he say camping store?” Grandpa asked before making a show of trying to clean out his ears. He set his steely gray eyes on Mac. “You mean you do this part-time while you’re in school or something? A graduate program, perhaps?”
“No, sir. That’s what I do full-time. Would if—”
“He’s very good at it too,” Connie inserted proudly. “Charitable, besides. Can you believe Mac gives ten percent of his proceeds to the indigent?”
“Is that why he dresses like them?”
“Grandpa!”
Mac felt his temperature spike. Now he didn’t know much, but he could tell when he was being insulted. “I think I’ll just go refill our champagne,” he said to Connie, retrieving the empty flute from her hand.
As he departed, Connie turned angry eyes on her grandfather. “That wasn’t very nice, and you know it.”
“What’s our loveable old grandpa done now?” Linda asked, approaching.
“He just told Mac he looked like a homeless person.”
“That wasn’t very welcoming.”
Wendell Senior motioned toward Mac as he strode away, his clothes nearly bursting at the seams. “Well, just look at him! With that ill-fitting outfit and that hairy monkey mug. He looks like he swings from the trees!”
“Tried but failed,” Linda said under her breath.
Connie shot her a silencing look, then met her grandpa’s eyes. “Mac really is a very nice man. I wish you’d give him a chance.”
“But how did all this happen? The first thing I know, you’re engaged to that nice young attorney, Walt…”
“You were just saying you never liked him!”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I realized you’d tossed him over for Tarzan.”
“Tarzan never had a beard,” Linda added unhelpfully.
“He is not Tarzan. But Mac is a very skilled outdoorsman. He saved my life. Both of ours, in fact. Didn’t he, Linda?”
Their granddad surveyed Linda doubtfully. Connie nudged her.
“It’s true!” Linda spouted. “That’s how he and Connie met. We went hiking.”
“Got lost in the woods,” Connie said.
“Could have been there for days.”
“Weeks even.”
“Eaten alive by bears.”
Wendell Senior motioned across the room. “And that man over there—spilling champagne on his hiking boots—saved you?”
“Yes,” both girls said together.
“Harrumph.” He cocked his chin sideways and appeared to be considering something. “Didn’t you girls just get back from the wilderness?”
Linda rushed in. “Yes, but she met Mac weeks ago.”
“This last trip was our second one.”
“You’ve only seen the man twice and you’re engaged?”
“Heavens, no.” Connie gave a little giggle like that was the most ridiculous thing she’d heard. “We’ve been dating for weeks.”
“Where?”
“There!” Linda said, overlapping with Connie’s words. “Here! In Napa!”
Grandpa Oliver narrowed his gaze. “Here, there, and…everywhere?”
“It’s been on the computer,” Connie said, thinking quickly.
Linda didn’t miss a beat. “That’s right. Internet dating. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s really big right now.”
Wendell Senior studied both their faces. “And people get engaged this way?”
“All the time,” Connie said.
“Well, maybe if you’d dated him in person, you could have given him some tips on his wardrobe.”
Mac returned with their champagne just in time for Connie to make their excuses and retreat from her grandfather. She didn’t know why he’d been so tough on Mac. It really wasn’t fair to judge him by his occupation…or appearance…or dress code. She sighed inwardly, knowing that was just the Oliver way. She accepted the flute Mac handed her with a grateful smile.
“Thanks. I was just telling Grandpa we were about to take our seats for cake and ice cream.”
“Sir,” Mac said politely. “It was very nice meeting you.”
Wendell Senior twisted his lips and remained silent until Linda pinched him. “Ow!” He gave Linda a cursory glance, then returned his gaze to Mac’s. “And it was a…” He seemed to be struggling with the words. “…pleasure meeting you as well. I hope that you’ll enjoy the party.”
Chapter Five
Thankfully for Mac, the meal portion of the evening passed a lot more pleasantly. They were seated at a table with Linda and her gregarious husband, Beau, as well as Ollie and his girlfriend, Trudy. Trudy had come in late, rushing over from her stint as an intern at a local television station. She hoped to work in broadcast news someday and had the pretty face and nicely even-toned voice to carry off being an anchorwoman. He learned that Ollie had gained entry into a prestigious film production master’s program near Los Angeles, and that Linda was an accountant and Beau was in medical school. The Olivers were one incredibly ambitious and educated family. On the way here, he’d learned that Connie was still figuring out what she wanted to do. While she’d majored in studio art with a concentration in photography in college, she’d never quite found the fit for her art. More than anything, she loved to photograph food, which Mac found both quirky and charming. Linda had assured him that Connie was also a fabulous baker
. She made the most wonderful cakes and pies, very detailed too. She’d even styled a cake like a human brain for Beau’s birthday when he’d been studying anatomy, complete with a prefrontal lobe and all. Since she’d not yet found a market for her competing and unusual talents, Connie worked as a docent at a children’s museum in order to pay her bills.
Especially after seeing the lavish lifestyle she’d come from, Mac couldn’t imagine Connie having difficulty with finances. He found it admirable she aspired to stand on her own two feet, even though she’d unmistakably come from money. All of the Oliver children appeared to share that trait. Elizabeth and Wendell Junior must have done something right. In Mac’s case, he’d never considered that he had any option other than forging out on his own. He’d grown up with a hardworking yet loving single mother who’d worked double shifts at the bakery to pay for school extras so he could stay enrolled in the most competitive courses. Her support and his own dedication had paid off by landing him a full scholarship to the forestry program at Berkeley. Mac had never wanted to do anything but work outdoors. He’d initially considered working for the National Park Service but ultimately found running his own business—and being his own boss—to be the perfect fit. That was until everything went up in smoke.
His dinner plate was cleared and a flaming dish was placed before him. “Bananas Foster,” Connie explained with a sweet smile. Mac couldn’t believe they were serving dessert again. Not after having cake and champagne as appetizers… then a summer squash bisque to start… followed by the apple, pecan, and goat-cheese salad… wrapping up with prime rib and lobster…
“I don’t know how you girls can eat like this and still keep your figures.”
“StairMaster,” Linda assured him with a grin.
Connie nodded in agreement, eagerly digging into her second dessert, but Mac didn’t believe he could fit in one more bite. Already, he was bursting at the seams, particularly in this too-tight jacket. A server came around with coffee as the band picked up its tempo. The music was saucy and upbeat, and Connie must have liked it. He could hear her tapping her feet in time to the rhythm under the table. Wendell Junior silenced the band and took his place center stage. “Honored guests, friends, and family, we’re delighted you could join us tonight for my father’s very special celebration. And in honor of the man of the hour, I hope you’ll all fulfill his request to dance until your shoes fall off.” A ripple of laughter erupted from the crowd as Grandpa Oliver watched, beaming, from the sidelines. He motioned for his son to hand him the microphone, then took it to address the room.
“It was very kind of you to come this evening. Very kind of all of you, indeed. And I can’t thank you enough for your donations to my chosen charities. The art museum and community playhouse will both benefit greatly from your generosity, and will hopefully keep entertaining others long past the time this old man is gone.” As if to prove his frailty, he broke into a wheezing cough. Elizabeth appeared and took the microphone while Grandpa Oliver continued to breathe hoarsely. “Thank you. Thank you all again.”
He beckoned Elizabeth toward him and whispered something in her ear as she held the microphone at her side. She brought the cordless mike to her mouth and her face warmed in a smile. “The birthday boy has a special request. Before we begin the general dancing, he’d like to welcome Connie’s new fiancé to the fold with a special introductory couple’s dance.”
Mac’s coffee sloshed sideways as he rapidly set his cup down on its saucer.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Elizabeth went on, “may I present to you our daughter Connie’s newly betrothed, Adam ‘Mac’ McCormack.” She gestured grandly in his direction, and people applauded. Mac wanted to crawl under the table, but Connie stopped him by taking his hand.
“I can’t dance,” he whispered to her, his pulse picking up a notch.
“Of course you can,” she said with a smile.
Mac heard cups clattering against saucers and dessert forks scraping dishes as Connie led him toward the center of the room. Was it his imagination, or were people actually whispering behind their hands about his boots?
Wendell Junior gave a signal to the bandleader, and the quartet began to play something with a lot of swing and dip. Mac had no clue what he was doing, so he let Connie lead as she pulled him along. Soon he was following her example, rocking back and forth and stepping sideways to the beat, all the while holding Connie’s hand. He didn’t know how she made it look so easy as she moved gracefully to the music, employing that seductive sway to her hips. Suddenly she eased forward, and Mac realized he was supposed to lift his arm so she could pass underneath. The moment he did, he felt something pop behind his right arm. The next thing he knew, Connie was passing behind him and circling around on the left, taking that hand and yanking back hard as she stepped out in front. Rip. Mac was sure he’d heard it, another seam tearing in his jacket. He hoped no one would notice, because there was no stopping Connie now. She was alive with the beat, her sweet face pink with exertion. Or maybe it was perspiration. Her pearl necklace bobbed in time to the music. Swish. She flung him forward, then pulled him back with both hands, tugging him up against her, as threads gave way in the seat of his pants. He had to say something, get her to stop. But then Elizabeth saved the moment by urging the rest of the guests onto the floor.
Once they were surrounded by a sea of gyrating bodies, Mac forgot all about his failing wardrobe. All he could think of was Connie, with her gorgeous blue eyes and that beautiful smile on her lips. Any man who’d walked away from her must have been an idiot. She was lively and fun and— Holy Cow, he thought as she spun him around again—built to last! Suddenly, Mac realized the music had stopped, and he had Connie pressed right up against him as she wound her arms around his back. Party guests clapped and oohed and aahed at the lovely couple, knitted closely together on the dance floor.
Out of nowhere, a chorus erupted. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” The crowd became more and more insistent, cheering and clanking goblets with silver spoons.
Connie gazed up at him, her cheeks bright red. “We don’t have to.”
But if that was how she felt, why was there expectation in her eyes? Mac had seen that look in a woman before, and he knew exactly what it meant. It meant she wanted him to, oh yes, she did. And boy, in the heat of this crazy moment, didn’t he want her too. Mac lowered his mouth to hers, unable to fight its magnetic pull, as the crowd raged on, hooting and hollering as their lips drew closer. Mac cradled her head in his hands, enjoying the silken feel of her hair while his mouth hovered over hers.
“Mac,” she breathed, panting lightly. “Don’t…stop.”
And he didn’t. He laid it on with all he had as people cheered and clinked glasses around them in celebration. And man, didn’t her mouth taste good, all sweet and sugary like… Wait a minute. Bananas Foster? No sooner had that thought hit when a cold blast of air assaulted his bottom. Mac pulled back in shock to see his trousers had slid down to his ankles, and both of his jacket sleeves had popped off!
“Wow,” he heard an older woman say from nearby. “Does she have that effect on all her fiancés?”
Chapter Six
Mac heard a knock at his door and cracked it open.
“Are you all right?” Connie asked with a worried look. She was still in her nice dress and pearls, looking as beautiful as ever. After his extremely embarrassing moment, Mac had hustled to his room to change back into his flannel shirt and jeans and hadn’t resurfaced since. Despite the dancing, his ankle seemed relatively back to normal, so he’d dispensed with the ace bandage and dropped it in his pack. He’d since heard car doors popping open and vehicles driving away, so figured most of the guests had left by now.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said. “Downstairs, I mean.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
She brought her hand to her mouth to disguise a giggle. “You have to admit, it was kind of funny.”
&n
bsp; “Funny?”
“Oh, Mac,” she said with a teasing lilt. “Nobody holds it against you that you did a striptease in front of the family. In fact, I think some of the older ladies kind of liked it.”
He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes with a challenge. “Did you like it, Connie?”
She blushed suddenly. “Well, I… The truth is, I wasn’t looking.”
The heck she wasn’t. Mac had seen her looking, all right. Ogling was more like it. And from the look in her eyes, she’d liked what she’d seen. “I can show you again, if you’d like to make sure…?” He brought a hand to the waist of his jeans, resting it on his belt.
She blinked hard and stepped back. “Oh no. That won’t be necessary.”
“Well, there you two are,” Elizabeth said, striding toward them down the long hall. “Mac,” she said, addressing him. “I hope you’re feeling better. In the Oliver house, crazy things happen. Nobody will even remember by morning.”
“Thanks. That’s very gracious of you.”
“Anyhow.” Elizabeth clapped her hands together and gave them each a delighted look. “I have just the right thing to lighten the moment.” She turned toward Mac. “I’m sure Connie’s filled you in on the family’s traditional wedding gown?”
“Yes, she has,” he answered honestly.
“Then maybe it’s time you saw it.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be bad luck before the wedding?”
“Only when it’s on the bride,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
Elizabeth pressed open the door to the gold room, exposing an elegant wedding gown on a mannequin positioned near the curtained window. Nearby lamps bathed the delicate fabric in their glow. The dress was intricately cut and made of hand-sewn lace. It appeared to have once been snowy white but had faded slightly over time.
Century-old pearls swept down the train, which fanned out on the floor, shimmering in the soft light. Connie sighed in spite of herself. It really was a magical dress. Made more magical still by all of the incredible women who had worn it, including her own mother at Grandma Oliver’s request. Since she hadn’t had any daughters and Wendell Junior had been the son to marry first, her grandma has insisted Elizabeth wear the gown in order to begin the new tradition and bestow the dress with its second blessing, bearing witness to another union blessed by God.