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A kerosene lantern burned on the bureau of John's room, giving off a mellow light. He lay stretched out on his bed, fully clothed and staring at the ceiling. In his hand, the golf ball he'd pocketed when he'd found water for Isabel. With a flick of his wrist, he pitched the ball upward. It soared back down and he caught it. He threw it again. Caught it again. He'd repeated this process some hundred times since returning home from Isabel's house.
He couldn't get her out of his mind. Her despair over the contest playing out like that had been blatant. She'd wanted the money more than he did. Hell, he'd wanted the cash, too—maybe more than her. But he would have gladly given it all up.
Lovebirds.
Who did Nicklaus think he was kidding? Lovebirds were a pair. A couple that couldn't be parted. Nicklaus knew from the start of his damn contest that he was giving away a prize with complications. And he'd known they'd win and they'd have the birds to contend with.
Why?
Did the great Saint Nicholas know them better than they knew themselves? It was the only conclusion John could come to grips with.
Money would have bought him a lot of things he could use. Only it wouldn't have bought him Isabel's love. That, he'd have to earn.
He tossed the ball and it fell into his palm with a smack.
He should have told her how he felt, should have damned the consequences and just been honest for a change. He could live with rejection. He couldn't live without knowing if Isabel loved him in return, and he'd walked away from something.
Tomorrow morning, first light, he'd tell her. Get it all out in the open and let it be whatever it would be, future or no future. But for once, John Wolcott wasn't going to run from a commitment. He wanted to be a husband and a father, and if Isabel felt the same way, he'd marry her by sundown Christmas day.
On that thought, he forgot to catch the ball and it thwacked him on the brow. With the wincing impact, he had the oddest feeling that Nicklaus had slugged him for taking so long to see the light.
Isabel didn't sleep much at all that night. The birds rustled around in their cage for most of it And this morning just before the sky turned golden, they began to chirp and coo at one another. They were so much in love, she could actually feel it overtaking the room.
Barefooted, she padded out of bed in the gray dawn. Finding the white shawl that John had bought for her, she went outside and sat in her rocking chair to greet the day—bleak as it would be for her.
She'd been so hopeful she'd win the money and her life would be everything she wanted, she could have the things she needed. But money didn't give her John. She'd been a fool to let him go. She was in love with him. Why hadn't she told him so? It hurt to think how much she longed to be in his arms…
Wrapping the shawl tighter about her, she brought the ends to her cheek and rubbed the softness next to her skin.
She'd been selfish last night and she didn't like herself for it today. Telling John how she felt about him was worth the risk of his not returning her affections. At least she'd know.
The ripple of a chance stirred within Isabel. Yes… she'd tell him. Right away.
Several minutes later, Isabel dashed down the steps to the lane, but stopped shy to gaze at her lemon grove. Her mouth softly fell open.
Cardinal red ribbons were tied in bows around the branches of every single tree-—just the color of ribbon she'd wanted as a child. W
ho had done such a thing? John? He hadn't known about the ribbons.
But somebody else had…
About to turn and leave for John's bungalow, Isabel's pulse skipped when she saw him coming toward her up the drive. He carried a bucket and several of the clubs Bellamy used.
She didn't want to seem too anxious… too eager.
"Merry Christmas," she said softly, remembering what day it was. :
"Same to you, Isabel," he returned, his tone pleasant yet guarded
The lump on his forehead, just above his eyebrow, distressed her. She feared he'd gotten into a fight. "What happened to your forehead?"
John's grimaced. "I hit myself shaving."
"What… ?" That made no sense.
"Never mind."
Isabel let the matter drop. She raised her arm toward the grove. "Did you do that?"
