The Summer Wedding: Groom Wanted / The Man You'll Marry. Debbie Macomber
Читать онлайн книгу.
of their relationship. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she just wasn’t interested in marrying him.
However, Jill fully intended to marry someday. There’d never been any question of that. The only question was who. She’d dated frequently in college, but there hadn’t been anyone special. Then, when she’d been hired as a pharmacist for PayRite, a drugstore chain with several outlets in the Pacific Northwest, the opportunities to meet eligible men had dwindled dramatically.
Prospects weren’t exactly crowding the horizon, but Jill had given up worrying about it. She’d done a fair job of pushing the thought of a husband and family to the far reaches of her mind—until she’d made one small mistake.
She’d tried on Aunt Milly’s wedding dress.
Shelly had hung the infamous dress in the very back of her closet. Out of sight, out of mind—only it hadn’t worked that way. Not a minute passed that Shelly wasn’t keenly aware of the dress and its alleged powers.
On impulse, Jill had tried it on herself. To this day she didn’t know what had prompted her to slip into the beautiful hand-sewn wedding dress. It was so elegant, so beautiful, with row upon row of pearls and delicate lace layered over satin.
That it fit as though it had been specifically designed for her had been as much of a surprise to Shelly as it had to Jill. Shelly had seemed almost giddy with relief, insisting her aunt had made a mistake and the dress was actually meant for Jill. But by that time, Shelly had already met Mark….
No, Aunt Milly hadn’t made a mistake—the wedding dress had been meant for Shelly all along. Her marriage to Mark proved it. And really, she’d have to attribute Shelly’s meeting and marrying Mark to the power of suggestion, the power of expectation—not to magic. She shook her head and hurried off to retrieve her luggage.
Then she headed outside, intent on grabbing a taxi. As the driver loaded her bags, she stood for a moment, savoring the warm breeze, enjoying the first sounds and sights of Hawaii. She couldn’t wait to get to her hotel. Through a friend who was a travel agent, Jill had been able to book a room in one of the most exclusive places on Oahu at a ridiculously low rate.
The hotel was everything the brochure had promised and more. Jill had to pinch herself when she got to her room. The first thing she did was walk to the sliding-glass doors that led to the lanai, a balcony overlooking the swimming-pool area. Beyond that, the Pacific Ocean thundered against the sandy shore. The sight was mesmerizing, the beauty so keen, it brought tears of appreciation to Jill’s eyes.
She tipped the bellhop, who’d brought up her luggage, and returned to the view. If she never went beyond this room, Jill would have been satisfied. She stood at the railing, the breeze riffling her long hair.
The hotel was U-shaped, and something—a movement, a figure—caught her eye. A man. Jill glanced across the swimming pool, across the tiki-hut roof of the bar until her gaze found what she was seeking. The grouch. In a lanai directly opposite hers. At least she thought so. He wore the same dark suit as the man with whom she’d spent five of the most uncommunicative hours of her life.
Jill didn’t know what prompted her, but she waved. After a moment, he waved back. He stepped farther out onto the lanai and she knew beyond a doubt. Their rooms were in different sections of the hotel, but they were on the same floor, their lanais facing each other.
He held a cell phone to his ear, but slowly lowered it.
For several minutes they simply stared at each other. After what seemed like an embarrassingly long time, Jill tried to pull herself away and found she couldn’t. Unsure why, unsure what had attracted her attention to the man in the first place, unsure of everything, Jill looked away.
A knock at the door distracted her.
“Yes?” she asked, opening her door. A bellhop in a crisp white uniform stood before her with a large wrapped box.
“This arrived by special courier for you earlier today, Ms. Morrison,” he explained politely.
When he’d gone, Jill studied the package, reading the Seattle postmark and the unfamiliar block printing. She carried it to the bed, still puzzled. She had no idea who would be mailing her anything from home. Especially since she’d only left that morning.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she unwrapped the package and lifted the lid. Her hands froze. Her heart froze. Her breath jammed in her throat. When she was able to move again, she inhaled sharply and closed her eyes.
It was Aunt Milly’s wedding dress.
A letter rested on top of the tissue-wrapped dress. With trembling hands, Jill reached for it.
Dearest Jill,
Trust me, I know exactly what you’re feeling. I remember my own emotions when I opened this very box and found Aunt Milly’s wedding dress staring up at me. As you know, my first instinct was to run and hide. Instead I was fortunate enough to find Mark and fall in love.
I suppose you’re wondering why I’m mailing this dress to you in Hawaii. Why didn’t I just give it to you before you left Seattle? Good question, and if I had a reasonable answer I’d be more than happy to share it.
One thing I’ve learned these past few months is that there’s precious little logic when it comes to understanding any of this—love, fate, the magic within Aunt Milly’s wedding dress. Take my advice and don’t even try to make sense of it.
I suppose I should tell you why I’m giving you the dress. I was sitting at the table one morning last week, with my first cup of coffee. I wasn’t fully awake yet. My eyes were closed. Suddenly you were in my mind, standing waist-deep in blue-green water. There was a waterfall behind you and lush, beautiful plants all around. It had to be Hawaii. You looked happier than I can ever remember seeing you.
There was a man with you, and I wish I could describe him. Unfortunately, he was in shadow. Read into that whatever you will. There was a look about you, a look I’ve only seen once before—the day you tried on the wedding gown. You were radiant.
I talked to Mark about it, and he seemed to feel the same way I did—that the dress was meant for you. I phoned Aunt Milly and told her. She said by all means to make you its next recipient.
I should probably have given you the dress then, but something held me back. Nothing I can put into words, but a feeling that it would be too soon. So I’m sending it to you now.
My wish for you, Jill, is that you find someone to love. Someone as wonderful as Mark. Of the two of us, you’ve always been the sensible one. You believed in logic and common sense. But you also believed in love, long before I did. I was the skeptic there. Something tells me the man you’ll marry is just as cynical as I once was. You’re going to have to teach him about love, the same way Mark’s taught me.
Call me as soon as you get back. I’ll be waiting to hear what happens. In my heart I already know it’s going to be wonderful.
Love,
Shelly
Jill read the letter twice. Her pulse quickened as her eyes lifted and involuntarily returned to the lanai directly across from her own.
The frantic pace of her heart slowed to normal.
The grouch was gone.
Jill recalled Aunt Milly’s letter to Shelly. “When you receive this dress,” she’d written, “the first man you meet is the man you’ll marry.”
So it wasn’t the grouch, it was someone else. Not that she really believed in any of this. Still, her knees went unaccountably weak with relief.
After unpacking her clothes, Jill showered and lay down for a few minutes. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but when she awoke, a rosy dusk had settled. Flickering fires from the bamboo poles that surrounded the pool sent shadows dancing on her walls.
She’d seen him, Jill realized. While she slept. Her hero, her predestined husband. But try as she might,