Wedding at Wildwood (10 page)

“Okay. I’ve got to get back to ushering, or I might get fired.”

“See you later.”

He gave her his salute. “Count on it.”

She would. And she hoped she could count on him. She’d wait for him, but she wouldn’t force him into a relationship he might not be ready to accept. There were too many things brewing in the air, too much standing in the way of any happiness for Dillon and her. Her love for him had made her temporarily forget all the obstacles holding them apart, the same obstacles that had been there from the very beginning. Namely, his brother’s intense disapproval of her.

Loving Dillon hadn’t changed a thing, except she now realized she’d been waiting for him most of her life.

And, as her grandmother had pointed out, Isabel wasn’t very good at waiting.

The wedding was lovely. Susan made a pretty bride in her beaded frock and elaborate veil. Eli was a handsome groom in spite of the occasional scowl he shot toward his brother. He did seem nervous and preoccupied to Isabel, though. As he promised to love, honor and cherish his bride, Isabel said a prayer for him—a first for her. She’d never considered including Eli Murdock in her prayers. But Susan had always been a good friend to her, in spite of their different positions in small-town society, and the romantic in Isabel wanted this marriage to work. She’d be wrong to hope for that without asking God to watch over both Susan and Eli. And Dillon, too.

Careful not to be intrusive, Isabel took a picture of the groom kissing his new bride. Automatically, she searched for Dillon and found him watching her with that unreadable, brooding look on his face. But when he lifted his gaze to her face, Isabel saw the darkness disappear. His eyes became bright with hope and longing.

Feeling silly over her earlier misgivings, she again reassured herself that he did care. But, something wasn’t quite right. It was as if Dillon wanted to return her feelings, but he couldn’t give himself permission to do so just yet.

He said we’d talk after the wedding
, she reminded herself as she watched Eli and Susan walk back down the aisle. This whole event had been a strain on everyone, as blessed as it was, but now it was just about finished.

She’d use the few days Susan and Eli were away to organize her pictures. She wanted to have a complete set of contact sheets ready for Susan when she got home. And, she’d be able to spend time with Dillon, alone, without Eli’s condemning eyes watching over them. Maybe then, she could find out what exactly was on his mind, and what exactly was in his heart.

And after that…she’d do whatever she could to help Dillon mend his torn relationship with his brother.

Because if Dillon and Eli could mend their fences, there might be hope for Isabel and Dillon, at last. Maybe that was what was holding Dillon back from giving her his love.

“Did you get a lot of pictures of us at the altar?” Susan asked much later at the reception.

The church social hall was decorated in the same Victorian theme as the sanctuary had been, with muted pinks and blues and roses, hearts, seed pearls and baby’s breath scattered among ribbons and lace. The wedding cake carried the theme to new heights, all five tiered layers of it.

“I promise, you’ll have the biggest, best wedding album of any woman in the state of Georgia,” Isabel assured the fidgeting bride. “Now, relax. The wedding was so beautiful and you were the perfect bride.”

Susan swiped at fresh tears. “I’m being so silly. I can’t stop crying. Hope you didn’t get any pictures of my puffy eyes.”

“I got you in your very best light,” Isabel again assured her. “I should have most of them developed by the time you get back from Saint Simons Island.”

Susan frowned, then lowered her voice. “I’m just glad I was able to pull Eli away from this place for a few days. Have you talked to Dillon yet?”

Glancing around, Isabel saw Dillon talking to his mother. Eli was deep in a discussion with two other local farmers. “I’ve tried, Susan, but I’m afraid if I’m the one to bring it all up, Eli and Dillon both will resent me for interfering. I really would rather not get involved.”

Susan touched Isabel’s arm, her hand cold in spite of the warm day outside. “You’ve got to let him know, Isabel. Eli needs his brother’s help.”

“But do you realize how angry Eli might be? Having Dillon learn the plantation’s in trouble can only make matters worse between him and Dillon.”

“Tell him while we’re away. He can watch over things while we’re gone, and maybe by the time we get back, he’ll be calmed down enough to talk to Eli and offer his help.”

“You’re sure optimistic.”

“Just hopeful. I want those two to reconcile, too.”

Before Isabel could reply, she turned to see Dillon coming across the room. He extended his hand to her as the ensemble of musicians began to play a beautiful classical waltz.

“It’s Mozart,” Dillon said into her ear, his eyes warm. “And I asked them to play it just for us.” When Isabel hesitated, he added, “Hey, I asked you for a dance the night of my senior prom, remember? And you turned me down. You aren’t going to do that to me again, are you, Issy?”

Isabel swallowed the lump in her throat. “No. I’ll be happy to dance with you, Dillon.”

He took her into his arms and whirled her around the dance floor. Isabel gazed up into his eyes, aware that the entire room, full of prominent Wildwood citizens, was watching them as they moved to the exquisite music. Her dress flared out behind her like green sea foam. Her hair lifted away from her damp neck. Her hand touched on the corded muscles of Dillon’s arm, while her other hand held tightly to his. The dance became a breathless kind of wonder, a fantasy come true, a sweet memory that she’d lived and relived, and had now become a reality. She was dancing with Dillon Murdock.

“Why did you turn me down that night?” he asked now, his words lifting out over the strands of the music, his eyes centered on her with that brilliant intensity that took her breath away. “Why, Isabel?”

Isabel looked down at the neat black bow tie at his neck, afraid he’d see the truth there in her eyes.

“Tell me the truth,” he said.

She met his eyes then, her face inches from his. How could she answer such a question. Should she just blurt it out? Because I was in love with you. No. Not yet. Hating the catch that clutched at her words, she said in what she hoped was a light tone, “I couldn’t bear it, Dillon. I couldn’t dance with
you
—the boy who’d chased me around with spiders and lizards, the boy who’d beat me too many times at baseball in the back pasture.”

The music stopped then, but Dillon didn’t let her go. Instead, he pulled her close, his hands moving over her hair as he stood there with her in the center of the hushed room. Isabel held her breath, thinking he was going to do something really stupid like kiss her. But he didn’t. Instead, he just held her, his eyes, bright with regret, bright with need, searching her face.

“No more games,” he said as he lifted a finger to touch a curl falling away from her temple. “We’re adults now, remember? And I do believe the rules have changed. This is a little more challenging than backyard baseball, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “We’ve changed, but some things are still the same. I guess, I’ve always felt that I don’t deserve you, Dillon. Maybe that’s the real reason I didn’t dance with you at the prom.”

She watched as he let that admission soak in.

Then he shook his head. “You’ve got that all backwards, Issy.
I
don’t deserve you. Thanks for the dance, though. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to dance with you in my arms—it was wonderful.”

With that, he turned and stalked across the room and out the door, leaving Isabel in the middle of the empty dance floor, with the roar of whispers in her ears as everyone there talked and pointed and smirked.

She looked up to find Eli watching her, the smug expression on his face like a hard slap across her flushed skin. Moving in on her, he said, “You just can’t seem to understand, Isabel. Dillon will never settle down with one woman. Nothing will ever come of his pretty words, no matter how hard you try to cling to him. He’ll be gone before sunrise, honey. Just like before. I can promise you that.” His eyes flickered over her with a look close to disgust. “At least then, we’ll all be rid of both of you and these embarrassing public displays.”

Humiliated, Isabel managed to make her way to the ladies’ room, her head held high. She didn’t know what was going on here, but tomorrow morning, she intended to have it out with Dillon Murdock one way or another. And she’d tell him all about his brother in the process. Maybe if he knew the truth, he’d finally tell her what his problem was.

He didn’t think he deserved her; well, she certainly didn’t deserve to be held one moment, then pushed away the next. Each time she thought she and Dillon had grown closer, he retreated behind that distant, stony wall again.

She had to find out why. In the meantime, she’d go home and talk to Grammy. She needed someone to help her with her prayers. She needed all the prayers she and her grandmother could muster. And then some.

They all did.

I
sabel went to church with her grandmother Sunday morning, then came home determined to find Dillon and get the air cleared between them. Even the preacher’s sermon had seemed delivered just for her.

“Let all that you do be done with love.”

That had been the Bible verse for the sermon, straight out of the first chapter of Corinthians. The preacher had talked about courage, strength, overcoming fear and obstacles. Well, she intended to overcome her fears and all the obstacles holding Dillon and her apart. Beginning with his thorny relationship with his brother. Dillon had to know the truth, and it looked as if she would have to be the one to tell him. It was wrong for Dillon to go on punishing himself for past deeds, when Eli was just as guilty of mismanaging the Murdock fortune as his brother seemed to think he’d been.

“Still worried?” Martha asked as they finished putting away the brunch dishes.

“Yes,” Isabel had to admit. “And I really appreciate your listening to me whine last night, Grammy.”

“That’s part of a grandmother’s job,” Martha replied. Untying her apron, she yawned. “But all these late nights you young people keep have caught up with me. I’m going to take a long Sunday afternoon nap.”

Isabel gave her grandmother a hug. “Good idea. And I’m going to go and find Dillon. Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

Martha hung her apron on a nearby peg. “I’m beginning to think he needs to know—maybe he can help his brother out of this mess. Eli has just about reached the end of the road. Everything crumbles if the foundation isn’t solid. Remember the parable, Isabel, the one about the sower and how some of the seeds fell on the wayside, but some fell on good ground?”

Isabel nodded.

“Well, Wildwood is good ground, honey. The best. And this land has belonged to the Murdocks for well over a century now. Eli means well, but his heart has hardened. He’s lost his way.”

“But how can we help him, if he doesn’t want our help?” Isabel asked. “Eli is so stubborn, and he’s a snob to boot!”

“Yes, but we have to be steadfast. We have to remember that we have always lived on this land, too.”

“Eli doesn’t care about us, Grammy. Why, he’d just as soon we were off this land for good, as let us help him.”

“We can’t stand by any longer, though,” Martha said, worry creasing her usually serene face. “In spite of our good intentions to stay out of Murdock business, we can’t forget that Cynthia will certainly need us.”

Isabel had to agree there. “Poor Miss Cynthia doesn’t have a clue as to what’s really going on. She’s been rich and pampered for so long, she won’t know how to handle things if they lose this place.”

“Give her some credit, Isabel. Cynthia Murdock is made of strong stock. This will shock her, of course, and she’ll be deeply humiliated and embarrassed, but if we offer her our support, she’ll come through just fine. She’ll survive and be a better woman for it.”

“If you think so.”

“You have to have faith, honey. Faith that this will work out for the best,” Martha said.

“But…if they lose everything…Dillon will be devastated. I don’t know if he and Eli will ever overcome their differences if that happens.”

“Well, people go through these types of crises every day. Many a Georgia farmer has had to lay awake at night wondering how he was going to feed his family.”

“Daddy sure did his share of worrying, didn’t he?”

“He did, since his pay depended on how good the Murdock crop turned out each year. But he always took the high road. Remember that, Isabel.”

“Yes, ma’am. I will.”

Isabel watched as her grandmother shuffled off down the hall, wondering why Grammy always made such pointed remarks. There was so much she didn’t understand about her gentle, caring parents. She needed answers, not just from Dillon, but from her grandmother, too.

Maybe then, she could find the same sense of peace Grammy seemed to possess. Maybe then, she could make her own peace with Wildwood, at last.

She found Dillon in the middle of the great old house, sitting on the floor against a wall, the portable stereo playing some jazzy instrumental tune. His head was back, his eyes closed while he swayed to the music.

Watching him from the open back door, in spite of her confusion and anger, Isabel once again felt that tug of love inside her heart. And once again, she reminded herself that she needed to keep that love guarded and hidden, until Dillon was ready to accept it.

Dillon seemed so far away, so lost in his thoughts, she hated to bring him the news about his brother’s financial woes. He had all the doors and windows flung open so that a cross breeze could blow through the wide central hallway. But his skin held a fine sheen of sweat in spite of the humid afternoon breezes roaming at will through the empty house.

He looked so lost, sitting there.

She knocked, hesitant to interrupt. How she dreaded this confrontation. But this had to be done.

“Go away,” he said, not even bothering to lift his head or open his eyes. “Whoever you are, just go away.”

“It’s me,” she called as she stepped inside the squeaky screen door.

Dillon sat up away from the wall, his eyes centering on her. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been doing some thinking myself,” she replied as she stopped a short distance away from him. “I don’t like being left on the dance floor, Dillon.”

“I was rude,” he admitted. “It’s just that…you caught me totally by surprise—saying you didn’t think you deserved me.”

“More like I scared you away. I just want you to understand that…that I care about you, but I don’t expect anything more than friendship.”

“You’re being honest, or at least you
think
you’re being honest.”

“Is it so hard for you to believe that I care?” she asked, “or are you uncomfortable
because
of my honesty? Maybe you don’t think you need my help or my friendship.”

He glanced away, then back up at her, his gaze shrouded. “Honesty is a tricky thing. It takes away all of our defenses.” Trying to explain, he said, “I told you, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, you did last night.”

“I didn’t mean to.” He tilted his head, staring up at her. “You know, Isabel, I’m not going to hold you to that offer you made the other night.”

“Oh, and why not?”

“I don’t expect you to stay here and help me reconcile with my brother. It was sweet of you, but I’ll deal with Eli on my own terms.”

She tugged her hands through her hair in frustration. “In other words, mind my own business? Is that why you’ve been acting so erratic?”

“In other words, I don’t want you to get caught in the cross fire by trying to salvage me.”

Isabel moved farther into the room, then sat down on the aged planked floor, forcing him to look her in the eye. “In other words, you really don’t want me around. You don’t want to accept my help, right, Dillon?” When he made a move to touch her, she held up a hand. “No, I’ve thought about this over and over again since you walked away from me last night. You wanted just one dance, and now, we can go back to our separate lives, no hard feelings, no regrets. I get it, all right. You tease me, flirt with me, make me believe things I don’t need to believe, even thrill me with a dance and a kiss or two, yet you claim you don’t want me to get hurt.”

She paused, swallowed back the threatening tears. “Because you don’t feel the same way about me. I understand, really I do, Dillon.” She turned to stare out of an open window. “Can’t you see—that’s exactly what I was trying to tell you last night. I’m still not good enough for a Murdock.”

He reached out a hand and pulled her in his arms before she could take her next breath. “Don’t,” he said, his face inches from hers. “Don’t ever say that to me again. Don’t ever think that again.”

Isabel stared at him, wishing she could read all the emotions playing across those storm-tossed eyes of his. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? You always did get your kicks out of torturing me—teasing, flirting, spending time with me, but never really putting forth a real commitment. I thought you and I were friends, real friends, but I was wrong about that, too, apparently. That’s the way it was when we were growing up, and that’s the way it is now.”

“You are wrong,” he said, his hands clutching her arms. “You are so completely off base, it’s laughable.”

“I’m not in a laughing mood, Dillon,” she said. “And I came here for some answers.”

“You won’t get any from me.”

She glared at him, her nose inches from his. “I’m not leaving until I do.”

He let her go then. “Suit yourself.” Deliberately, he turned the music louder. “I’m kinda busy here.”

Isabel marched to the stereo and turned it off. “No. That silent treatment isn’t going to work anymore. We need to talk.”

He glanced at the stereo. “I was listening to that.”

“You’re going to listen to me instead.”

“Oh, really? You are one stubborn woman, Issy.”

“Not as stubborn as you. You danced with me last night, then left me standing there, Dillon. It’s just like all those years ago, when you left without telling me goodbye. And I’m not going to let that happen ever again. Talk to me, please?”

Clearly frustrated, he threw his hands up in defeat. “About what? About my brother? About my dreams for this house?”

“That’s a start, yes.”

He jumped up then, waving his hands in the air. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I got this wild idea—I want to redo this house. I’m going to rebuild Wildwood, just like we talked about.”

“You what?” Shocked, Isabel realized he was doing the usual, avoiding the question. “How do you think Eli will take this news?” Maybe now would be a good time to tell him what she’d heard from Susan.

“I really don’t care what my brother thinks,” Dillon replied hotly. “He has his side of the road, and I have mine.”

“That sure sums it up,” Isabel said. “But, Dillon, about Eli—”

He didn’t let her finish, let alone begin. “How much longer will you be here, anyway?”

She shrugged. “A few days. I promised Susan I’d have her proofs ready when they get back from the honeymoon.”

“I’m staying a few days longer, too,” he said. “I think Mama needs me here—she’s exhausted after the wedding.”

“Okay, but what’s all this got to do with us, with you really talking to me for a change?”

Taking her by the hand, he said, “Remember when you told me I needed to learn to trust again?” At her nod, he continued, “You’ve taught me to trust my faith, Issy. And since the other night, since I saw what real trust is, there with you and your grandmother, I’ve been giving that some serious consideration. I’ve actually prayed about it, a lot.”

“That’s good. You’ll need lots of faith—taking on Eli and this old house again.”

He leaned close then. “Well, I have to ask you to do the same for me. Isabel, I can’t tell you everything you need to know—I’m still wrestling with all of this myself. I’m asking you to trust me, to have faith in me. You did say you were willing to help me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“So will you just hang on a little longer?”

“But, Dillon, there are some things I need to tell you, today.”

“And I’m telling you, no, I’m asking you, to listen to me, Isabel. If I take on this project…it will be demanding. I’ll have to fight Eli, I’ll have to rearrange my schedule to find time to supervise things here—”

“And that means you’ll have to put our relationship on hold?”

“No, that means I’ll need you more than ever.”

His words, spoken with complete honesty at last, captivated her. “I don’t have a problem with that, Dillon.”

“But there might be some problems,” he tried to explain. “Eli will make our time together miserable.”

“I can deal with Eli.”

“I don’t want you to have to deal with Eli, and I don’t want you to have to deal with all the things I’ve done.”

She stared at him, realization dawning. “So, that’s why you think you don’t deserve my help, my friendship, me?”

He nodded again. “That’s my excuse. For wanting to be with you, then pushing you away. For flirting with you, then being rude last night. I’m just so afraid. So afraid I’ll blow it all over again.”

“But, Dillon—”

“Just tell me you’ll trust me, Issy. Just tell me you’ll try to understand why I’m the way I am.”

“I’ll try,” she said, resignation taking over some of her earlier determination. “I am trying. But what about Eli?”

“Right now, Eli is far away and occupied with his new bride. Want a tour, to see what grand plans I have for fixing this place up?”

Isabel’s heart soared, then sank. She really needed to talk to him about Eli, but Dillon obviously wasn’t in a listening mood. And after what he’d just told her about this house, she couldn’t bring herself to shatter his hope. In a way, this might work out. If Dillon put some money back into this place, things might turn around for Eli, too.

Turning to lift her gaze up to the winding staircase, she said, “I used to bring things to your mama—sewing, laundry, fruit and vegetables that we’d been hired to pick and can, and I’d always stand in this hallway, wishing I could explore this house from top to bottom.” Shrugging, she said, “Of course, I never got any farther than that old settee that used to be against that wall.” She pointed to the empty spot between the parlor and the formal dining room. “Your mama would come out of one of those big rooms, all bright and dressed to the nines. She’d gush with pride and thank me for all my hard work. Then I’d hand over the finished product and hurry out the door.” Her smile was bittersweet. “I’d always turn about halfway up the lane, though, just to get one more look. I thought this place was a palace.”

Dillon lowered his head, his eyes falling across the hardwood floors. “It wasn’t a palace at all. In fact, it wasn’t much of a home. Not in the real sense of the word. It took me years to figure out my family was totally dysfunctional—make that
still
totally dysfunctional.”

Surprised that he’d let her in on that obvious revelation, Isabel said, “You always seemed like the perfect family to me. I used to watch you all in church, sitting up front on your family pew. Your mother, so pretty, so fashionable, your father, so debonair, but so intimidating, like a lion ruling over his domain. And of course, you and Eli, two handsome brothers with everything good in life going for them.”