A Bride by Christmas

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A Bride by Christmas Page 14

by Joan Elliott Pickart


  The intercom on the corner of his desk buzzed and he stared at it for a long moment, toying with the idea of ignoring it. It buzzed again. With a resigned sigh, Luke pressed the button.

  “Yes, Betty?” he said to his secretary.

  “There’s a woman named Patty on the phone for you, Luke. She says that she’s Maggie Jenkins’s best friend and that it’s imperative that she speak with you. Line one.”

  “Got it,” Luke said, his heart racing as he snatched up the receiver. “Patty? Hello. This is Luke. Why are you calling? Is Maggie all right? Has something happened to her? Talk to me?”

  “I would,” Patty said, laughing, “if you gave me a chance.”

  “Oh. Yes. Sure. Sorry.”

  “Nothing has happened to Maggie, per se,” Patty said, “except for the fact that she’s terribly upset. Unhappy. Miserable. Sad. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Luke said, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

  “But that’s not why I called,” Patty went on. “I’m at the bridal salon where Janet and I were fitted for the dresses that were supposedly for Precious’s attendants at her wedding. I’m helping Maggie cancel all the arrangements, the bookings and what have you she made for Precious and Clyde, who don’t need them because they aren’t really real.”

  “And?”

  “Well, the owner of the shop says these two dresses have to be paid for today, can’t be canceled because…well, they’re dresses just waiting for final fittings. I don’t have enough money to pay for them and I know Maggie doesn’t. I don’t want to upset her more than she is by telling her I hit a glitch here. Do you think you could come down here and settle the account?”

  “Of course,” Luke said. “It’s the least I can do. Give me the address.” He paused. “Patty, I love Maggie, I truly do. Do you believe there’s any hope of her forgiving me for what I did?”

  “Gosh, Luke, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve never seen her so distraught, so… It’s heartbreaking, just heartbreaking. It just breaks my heart because it’s so…heartbreaking.”

  “Oh,” he said, sighing. “That’s bad. Very bad. Not good. It sounds like time is not doing the job.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Never mind,” he said with another deep sigh. “Just give me the address of that store and tell the owner I’m on my way.”

  “Thank you, I’ll let her know,” Patty said. “I have to leave now because I have another appointment, but I’ll assure the owner that you’ll be here soon.”

  “I’ll settle up with any of the suppliers that charge a fee for canceling orders. Man, I wish things were different. I wish… Never mind. This is all my fault. Call me if you run into problems.”

  “Okay. Sure. We may all end up eating a whole bunch of white-chocolate miniature roses that were to be in tiny baskets at each place setting at the reception.”

  “Roses and wishes,” Luke said quietly.

  “Yes. Well. ’Bye for now.”

  “’Bye Patty.”

  When Luke entered the bridal salon, a copper bell over the door tinkled to announce his arrival. A woman’s voice came from somewhere in the distance calling out that she would be there in a minute. He wandered around the main area of the lushly decorated shop, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. He stopped in the middle of the room and frowned.

  This was where an upper-crust bride-to-be came to select her attendants’ dresses and to pick out her own wedding gown, he thought. With his damnable plan he’d forced Maggie to come here, make choices for her dream wedding while believing it was all for Precious and Clyde’s extravaganza.

  The same held true for the honeymoon suite, the menu for the reception dinner, every little detail, like white-chocolate roses in little baskets, that Maggie had had to deal with.

  His plan hadn’t been brilliant, it had been cruel. He, Luke St. John, was the scum of the earth and didn’t deserve to be forgiven. Maggie must have daydreamed about those white-chocolate roses at some point in her life, had been in the process of making them a reality while thinking she would then watch Precious and Clyde’s guests gobble up the sweet, pretty treat.

  Yeah, he was definitely despicable. There wasn’t a chance in hell that his beloved Maggie would forgive him for what he’d put her through, and he didn’t blame her, not one damn bit.

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting,” an attractive woman in her forties said, hurrying toward Luke. “I’m Selina Simone, the owner of this salon. And you are?”

  “Luke St. John.”

  “Ah, yes, Patty said you were coming. I trust you understand why I must be compensated for the dresses that Maggie selected.”

  “Of course,” Luke said. “I’ll write you a check. I’d like Patty and Janet to keep them. Could you see to that?”

  “Yes, it will be my pleasure. They’re gorgeous gowns. Maggie has such splendid taste and she was so excited when we found that exact shade of green she wanted for her—for the Christmas wedding she was coordinating. Well, I’m sure Janet and Patty will enjoy owning the creations.”

  “Right,” Luke said gloomily. “It will be nice to know that someone smiled in the middle of this mess. Is there anything else I need to take care of here?”

  “Well, yes, as a matter of fact there is,” Selina said. “There are accessories, you see. The satin ribbons for the bouquets and what have you.”

  “Whatever.” Luke nodded. “Sure.”

  “Would you mind coming into the back with me, Mr. St. John? That’s where my records are, and it will be easier for me to check the order forms.”

  “That’s fine. Lead the way.”

  “Well, I have something to tend to and will join you in a moment. Just go through that door over there and wait, if you would be so kind.”

  This was pure torture, Luke thought as he crossed the room. Every second he spent in this place pounded home the truth of how difficult all this had been for Maggie, how painful, how…heartbreaking, to borrow Patty’s word. Yeah, well, he deserved to suffer, louse that he was.

  He entered a medium-size room that had thick rose-colored carpeting. Cranberry-colored easy chairs were arranged in a semicircle in front of a white wicker arch with artificial greenery and flowers woven through it. A large three-sided mirror was on the opposite wall with additional chairs in front of it. Soft, dreamy music was playing.

  Man, Luke thought, look at this place. It just got worse and worse. Maggie had probably sat in one of those chairs and watched Janet and Patty try on the green dresses. The gowns of her dreams that she’d believed would be worn by Precious’s attendants.

  And a wedding dress? God, had Maggie been forced to select that already, too? Try it on? The wedding gown she’d wear if she was going to be the bride, knowing that Precious would walk down the aisle in it? He should be strung up by his rotten thumbs for what he’d done to his Maggie.

  Luke jerked as the music became slightly louder. It was clearly the traditional wedding march.

  Why were they playing that now? he thought, beads of sweat dotting his brow. He couldn’t take much more of this. Maggie must have heard it at some point in this disaster and… Where was that lady, that Selina woman? He had to get out of here.

  He looked frantically around, hoping that Selina Simone would appear, then a motion beyond the pretty arch caught his attention and he snapped his head back to see what it was.

  Then he stopped breathing as he stared through the arch, finally taking a shuddering breath as a sharp pain shot across his chest telling him he was desperately in need of air in his lungs.

  “My God,” Luke whispered, his heart thundering. “Maggie.”

  She was walking slowly toward him, her fingers laced loosely at her waist. And she was wearing an incredibly beautiful full-length white wedding dress. It was an old-fashioned Victorian style with a high neck and a multitude of seed pearls on the bodice. It nipped in at her tiny waist, and the skirt swep
t to the floor in soft, luscious satin folds. The gossamer veil brushed her shoulders and was turned back to reveal her face.

  And Maggie was smiling.

  “Maggie?” Luke said, hearing the gritty quality of his voice.

  She continued to approach with the measured steps of a bride walking down the aisle to meet her groom as the wedding march continued to play. She finally stopped in front of Luke and he swallowed heavily as he looked at her.

  “Hello, Luke,” she said softly.

  “You are…” Luke cleared his throat. “Maggie, you are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen.” He shook his head slightly. “But I don’t understand what—”

  “I’ll explain,” Maggie interrupted. “Let’s sit down.”

  “Yes. Okay.”

  Maggie settled onto one of the cranberry-colored chairs, smoothing her skirt out around her. Luke pulled a matching chair in front of her and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and tapping his laced fingers against his lips.

  “Luke,” Maggie said, looking directly into his dark eyes, “I hope you’ll forgive me for the horrible things I said to you when you told me about your plan.”

  “Forgive you?” he said, splaying his hands on his knees. “I’m the one who wants to beg you to forgive me for being so—” he glanced around, then met her gaze again “—so cruel and heartless and thoughtless and for telling you all those lies and… The fact that I was desperate, so afraid of losing you, is no excuse for what I put you through. I thought I was being so clever, so…Maggie, I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, we’re even as far as plans go,” she said, smiling at him warmly. “Patty and Selina were in on my plan to get you here today.”

  “Oh?” he said, surprise registering on his face.

  “Luke, I overreacted terribly when you told me about Precious and Clyde not being real people, about how you wanted me to organize my dream wedding and…All I could hear was that you lied to me, weren’t who you had presented yourself to be. All I could hear was that I had made a horrendous mistake by falling in love with you and had become a victim of the Jenkins Jinx.”

  “No, I—”

  “Please, just listen.”

  He nodded.

  “I was feeling so sorry for myself,” Maggie went on, “felt betrayed and… But Patty made me realize that what you had done wasn’t despicable, it was romantic, it stemmed from your love for me and from your heartfelt desire to marry me and give me the wedding of my dreams.”

  “Yes, yes, that’s it,” Luke said, nodding jerkily. “That’s why I did it. But it all blew up and I was convinced I’d lost you forever, that you’d hide behind those walls of yours and I’d never be able to get near you again.”

  “Luke, the walls are gone forever. After I talked with Patty, I went for a long walk and listened to my heart. I came to know that love, true love, forever love, is stronger than any jinx or superstition. I know that what you and I have together will withstand the good times, the bad, in sickness and in health, until death parts us and perhaps even beyond.”

  “Ah, Maggie,” Luke said, his throat tightening. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too,” she said, sudden tears filling her eyes. “I worked out a plan with Patty and Selina to get you here so you would see me in this wedding dress, the one I want to wear when I become your wife. I wanted to prove to you that I don’t believe in the jinx or any superstition like the groom not seeing his bride in her dress before the ceremony. I wanted to prove to you that I’m free to live, to love, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you as your wife…if you’ll have me.”

  Luke stood and with hands that were not quite steady grasped Maggie’s and eased her to her feet.

  “Maggie Jenkins,” he said, giving up any attempt to hide the tears shimmering in his eyes, “would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me, Maggie? Please?”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling through her own tears of joy. “Oh, yes.”

  Luke dropped her hands, framed her face, then kissed her so softly, so reverently, to seal the commitment to their future together.

  Right on cue the music changed to a waltz—their waltz. Luke drew Maggie into his arms and they danced around the room as though floating on clouds, looking directly into each other’s eyes, seeing matching messages of greater understanding and forgiveness, of the love and happiness that would be theirs to share for eternity.

  Several hours into the wedding reception of Mr. and Mrs. Luke St. John, the newly married couple had made their escape to the honeymoon suite.

  “Oh, my,” Patty said wistfully, “it was all so beautiful, wasn’t it? Including me in this gorgeous dress. Just perfect. Every detail, detail, detail, as Maggie would say. Right down to those delicious white-chocolate roses. What a wonderful couple Maggie and Luke make. And happy? I think they give a whole new meaning to the word.”

  “Yes,” Maggie’s mother, Martha, said, “you’re right. Seeing them together… Well, let’s just say that there will be no more talk of the Jenkins Jinx in this family. Maggie and Luke have broken that nasty spell, I just know in my heart that they have.”

  “I agree with you, Mother,” Janet said. “And I’d say that my cute brother does, too. He’s danced all evening with that pretty girl he met here.” She paused. “Didn’t you love the wedding gifts Maggie and Luke gave each other? A tiny gold acorn on a delicate chain for Maggie, and she had gold acorn cuff links made for Luke. She told me it was their special way of remembering all that took place before this memorable night. Oh, God, that is so romantic I could weep.”

  “I already did,” Patty said, laughing.

  “No more jinx,” Martha said, “and no more Roses and Wishes. Maggie has officially closed her business.” She smiled. “She said that enterprise made all her wishes come true, so she’s thinking of opening a baby boutique to see if that will hurry along the first little St. John bundle of joy.”

  “My goodness,” Patty said, her eyes widening. “Does that sound superstitious to you?” She laughed. “Well, rest up, folks, because here we go again.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-7413-0

  A BRIDE BY CHRISTMAS

  Copyright © 2005 by Joan Elliott Pickart

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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