VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, [9], 10 ]



[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 16:28:50 03/08/13 Fri
Author: Cammy
Subject: The Consequences of Suppositions, Chapter 23/25

The Consequences of Suppositions, Chapter 23/25
By: Cammy
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rated: R (for language and sexual situations)

Author’s Notes: See Chapter 1.

Additional note: I'm sorry for the delay in posting. Heavy travel schedule. Thanks for the kind words and your patience.

2030 CET (Local)
Saturday night
December 27, 2003
The Residences at Villa San Michele
Florence, Italy

“When I had no one to call. All the world had shut me down. I showed up at your door so blue. Thank God I had a friend like you.” – Joshua Radin, A Friend Like You

Their taxi pulled up outside a large, well-lit series of buildings situated on the steep hills overlooking the beautifully lit city of Florence.

After Mac had told him she really needed to get back to Italy, and after they’d spent a blissful two more hours in bed, he’d suggested taking a red eye last night to Rome, giving them more time in the country to enjoy the holiday vacation time before having to go back to work in Washington. They’d packed quickly and made a mad dash to National to catch an afternoon connecting hop to JFK, and ultimately an evening flight to Rome.

They’d arrived that morning and had brunch at a quaint café in Rome before taking the train up to Florence. The train ride through Tuscany had been stunning.

Harm was reveling in their time together. For all of the times they had been stuck on planes and in airports together, it had always been for work, mostly in uniform.

Now, here they were, just a man and woman together for no other reason than because they wanted to be. The transformation was unbelievable.

They touched, they laughed. It was the first time they had been together as a couple in public. There was nothing stopping him from his desires anymore. When they sat next to each other on the long plane ride from New York to Rome, he didn’t even need a flimsy excuse to lean over and kiss her cheek, or whisper in her ear, or run his hand over her long graceful fingers.

He found the freedom intoxicating and for the millionth time wondered why they had waited so long for this.

The driver looked in the rearview mirror at them, his attention on Mac. The taxi driver had learned quickly Mac was the only one of them who spoke Italian. “Quale costruendo?”

She translated for him. “Harm, he wants to know which building to pull up to.”

He surveyed the long room of majestic villas. One larger building stood at as far larger than the others. He caught the driver’s attention and pointed at it. “The main hotel lobby should be in that one.”

Harm had called his Mother early yesterday afternoon to inquire about his parents’ place in Florence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow. Twice in two days, Harm. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call,” his Mother’s bright voice asked when she answered the phone, forgoing a simple hello.

Harm could hear the din of people talking and laughing in the background. “Sounds like you still have a full house, Mom.”

“I do until tomorrow morning. The group’s getting ready to head out to the beach for the day, and we’ll have a big barbeque on the deck tonight to celebrate the family’s last night in town.”

“That sounds nice.” Harm meant it sincerely. His missed his Mother and he actually liked Frank’s siblings and their families. He couldn’t muster an ounce of regret though – not leaving for California was the best idea he’d ever had.

“So, how was your Christmas? What have you been up to?” The light teasing tone from his Mother told him she hadn’t forgotten their conversation yesterday. Moreover, she was still convinced she was right about the reason for his better mood.

He laughed nervously. “It was good.”

“I trust you are enjoying your time off,” his Mother asked leadingly.

When he had mentioned visiting Florence to Mac, he neglected to actually think about the task of asking to use his parents’ villa there. He was a little embarrassed by the prospect but forged ahead anyway. “I am. Look, that’s actually why I called. I’m going to head to Italy for the week and wanted to see if anyone was using your place in Florence or if it was empty now?

“Italy?” His Mother asked. “This wouldn’t have anything to with Mac, by chance, would it?”

Months ago, Harm had casually mentioned Mac was newly stationed in Naples in reply to a question from his Mother about her. In the years since she had met Mac, once early on in their partnership, she never failed to ask about the Marine. Until today, he’d always laughed off the questions, hoping to avoid the topic.

He acquiesced. It would save him from even more questions. “Mac’s TAD in Naples is up. She’s heading back to DC. She needed some help packing up in Italy and I volunteered.”

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“You’re just as transparent as your Father was. I’m just glad you finally got what you’ve wanted.”

“Wanted?”

“Oh come on, Harm. You’ve been in love with that girl for years.”

He finally laughed, tired of denying his feelings to anyone any longer. “Yeah, I guess I have been. You win.”

“Hold on for a minute, Harm.” He heard his Mother beckon Frank over to where she was. He could make out their conversation even though the phone was held away. “Honey, is the Villa in Florence available right now or did one of our friends borrow it for the holiday?” She paused. “Excellent. Harm wants to use it this week. Can he just pick up the keys with the concierge in the residents’ office?”

“Frank said the house is open and ready for visitors. He’ll call and let them know you’re coming. I’ll email you the address and where you can pick up the keys.”

“That’s great, Mom. I really appreciate it.”

“Harm, how long do you plan to be there?”

He shrugged. He and Mac hadn’t talked about specifics. In fact, they hadn’t talked about specifics regarding – anything – in their lives since reuniting on Christmas Eve. “I don’t know. A week, give or take a couple days. I have to be back at JAG on the 7th.”

“Frank and I are leaving Sunday for Paris. We’ll be there until mid-January. It’s only an hour and a half flight to Florence. How about we pop over to see you for a night?”

Harm was taken aback by the suggestion. He wasn’t sure he was ready to give up the solitude he and Mac were enjoying together. “Um, maybe. Let’s see what might work out.”

“Oh come on, Harm. We won’t barge in. We’ll get a guest suite at the adjacent hotel. It’s the least you can do since you didn’t come visit your Mother over Christmas. Besides, I still have your Christmas present.”

He felt guilty for even his initial resistance. How could he turn her down? “It sounds great, Mom. I would love to see you and Frank.”

“I’m hoping we’ll be making dinner reservations for four, Harmon?” Her question was pointed.

At that moment, Mac walked out of her bedroom in the same navy silk robe she’d spent part of the last day in, hair wet, fresh from their shower.

When they finally made their way out of bed that morning, Mac had dragged him on a seven mile run, heading into Arlington over the Key Bridge and back again to her place in Georgetown. It had been days since his last run, given his CAP assignment, and the exercise had left a pleasant dull ache in his legs.

Of course, it wasn’t as pleasant as what followed. After Mac dragged him on the run, she dragged him into her shower, the first such encounter they’d had outside a bed. He guessed working out with her from now on was going to be infinitely more satisfying than it had been when they used to meet up at Rock Creek Park or the O-Club gym years ago.

He looked at her, admiring the way the short robe hit her thighs, just high enough to show them off. “I’m sure Mac would love it as well, Mom.”

Mac raised her eyebrows at him in question. She hadn’t heard his end of the conversation up until his last comment and probably wondered what the hell he’d signed her up for.

“I’m so excited. This will be great, Harm. I can’t wait to see you. It’s been ages. And, I can’t wait to see Mac again too.”

“Me too, Mom.”

“Okay, well the natives are getting restless here. I need to help everyone find towels and sunscreen. Have a safe trip and I’ll call you when Frank and I get to Paris.”

Harm wished her goodbye as well and clicked the ‘end’ button on his cell phone.

“How’s your Mother, Harm,” Mac asked, walking towards him.

“Very well, except she’s probably got 20 plus members of Frank’s family at their house right now. It sounded like they had been invaded by a small, rabid army.” He buried his face in her still damp neck. She smelled like lavender. “I’m so happy I didn’t go out there.”

“Me too, sailor,” Mac said softly. She kissed him lightly on the lips when he raised his head.

“Good news. No one’s at their place in Florence right now. All ours.”

She smiled. “That’s great. I can’t wait. By the way, where were you sure I would love to go?”

He sighed. “Well, that’s the other thing. My Mom and Frank are going to be in Paris the same time we’re in Italy. They want to visit us in Florence for a day.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you about the other morning. My Mother called to wish me a Merry Christmas – it was before you woke up. I don’t know why, but she concluded from our conversation – without any input from me – that I wasn’t spending Christmas alone. She thinks you’re the reason I’m not out with her family in La Holla.”

Mac laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh my gosh. She must hate me.”

“Are you kidding? My Mother’s met you once, and she probably likes you more than she does me.”

Mac looked at him and he sensed she was holding something back. “Actually, I’ve met her twice. I’m not sure I ever mentioned the second time. I guess I thought she probably told you.”

“Really,” he asked, surprised. “Tell me about it.”

She slipped out of his arms with a kiss and smile. “Not now. Tell you later.”

“Mac,” he drew out her name, trying to pull her back, intrigued by what she had told him.

But Mac escaped quickly back to her bedroom with a smile. “I’ve got to pack, Navy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The taxi pulled up to the building Harm had identified and Mac paid while he went to help the driver with the bags. He couldn’t remember the exchange rate and Mac had been in Italy for months. He wasn’t used to a woman so willing to share the bills, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Mac had been his equal from the very day they met.

Harm grabbed their bags – both of them had packed lightly – and followed Mac into the main building housing the lobby for Villa San Michele.

He was in awe the moment they walked into the lobby. He’d heard it was one of the most beautiful hotels in the world, but words didn’t do it justice. The three story high open ceilings hosted murals reminiscent of the great old chapels of Rome while the stark ivory walls featured paintings Harm was sure better deserved to be housed in the Uffizi Gallery not two miles away.

A bellman came running towards them, clearly horrified they were carrying their own bags. “Signore. Signora. Lasciarmi.” Harm tried to wave him off, but the man was insistent and took their bags from them.

“L'iscrizione è questa maniera,” the man in the formal red bellman’s uniform nodded to a large desk in the center of the lobby.

Harm was at a loss but thankfully Mac understood. She answered the man in words just as unintelligible. “Cerchiamo l'ufficio dei residenti.”

The bellman nodded quickly and instead led them across the main lobby, away from the general registration desk, to a large ballroom turned office where they were greeted by a concierge in a dark black suit with a thick Italian accent. “Mr. Rabb, I presume.”

Harm nodded, thankful the man spoke English. “Yes, thank you.”

“Excellent. Signore Burnett told us to expect you. My name is Antonio and I will be here through out the week. My team is also available 24 hours a day for anything you need.”

Antonio lifted a thick manila envelope from a pile in front of him and handed it to Harm. “This has the keys, magnetic ID cards to access the resort grounds and the latest maps and updated weather information for Florence for the week.”

Harm was impressed with the level of service. He’d expected to find a house in the middle of rural Tuscany no one had touched in months.

“I’ll take you up to the house now, sir, ma’am,” Antonio said in heavily accented English.

He led them back outside, back to where they’d been dropped off. Now a large golf cart waited for them, their bellman in the driver’s seat and their luggage in a special rack on the back. Harm and Mac took the middle seat. He put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close – the temperature had dropped dramatically since they’d left the train station, now probably under 30 degrees.

She nestled into him without hesitation and it made him feel lighter, part of the continual shredding of the emotional baggage they had accrued over a near decade of harbored feelings and confused friendship.

The golf cart climbed a steep hill to a row of villas overlooking the hotel and pulled up to well lit house. “This is the place, Signore,” Antonio said, slipping out of the cart to help with the bags.

The men led them into a gorgeous two-story villa, marked on the outside by wide decorative arches and dramatic stone molding. The front door gave way to a large marble-lined foyer and open floor plan, featuring a large kitchen with stainless steel appliances and a massive granite countertop, a large dining room table with seats for more than 10 and a large living room with a roaring fire already in the fireplace.

The former monastery, nestled on a hilltop amid lush trees and terraced gardens, enjoyed unparalleled vistas of Florence, and the villa had large verandas on both the first and second floors. Through the windows on the second floor, Harm could see the bright lights of Florence far below.

Antonio finished the tour by showing off the massive master bedroom while the bellman unloaded their luggage.

A few minutes later, the two men swiftly and quietly departed the residence, leaving them completely alone for the first time since they had departed Mac’s apartment nearly a day ago.

Mac smiled at him slyly once they heard the door click, raising an eyebrow, “I thought they would never leave.”

“I know.” Harm grinned back, walking slowly toward her. “You hungry? We can walk back to the hotel or go down into the city and grab a pizza or something.” Food was the last thing on his mind, but he thought he should at least ask.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and his went around her waist instinctively. “Maybe later,” she whispered, brushing her lips across his before pulling him back towards the huge bed.

1410 CET (Local)
Tuesday afternoon
December 30, 2003
Near the Piazza della Signoria
Florence, Italy

Mac and Harm made their way down Via de' Tornabuoni, window shopping not far from Florence’s most famous square, the Piazza della Signoria. The past few days had been blissful – amazing food, amazing sights, amazing museums, and yes, amazing sex.

The time in Florence had served as a final erasure of their somewhat painful past, Mac mused, and she’d never been happier in her life. She realized that the uncertainty in their relationship had prevented her from ever really knowing him like this. Sure, she saw glimpses here and there. Kind words. Shared looks. Shared smiles. But they had both been too guarded to knock down all the walls between them.

Now, it was so different and she loved him even more than she thought she could for it.

Mac tugged on Harm’s arm when she spotted a quaint little gelato and bakery shop on the right.

He laughed, “you can’t possibly want more gelato, we just had some an hour ago.”

“I was going to suggest some espresso, but now that you mention it…”

Harm just shook his head, opening the door to the bakery. “I’m never going to understand how you eat what you eat and look like you look.”

A half-hour later the pair made their way down the same side street when their attention was drawn to beautiful music coming from an old church nearby.

He raised his eyebrow at her, “You want to go in?”

She nodded and he opened the door. The most stunning church sanctuary she had ever seen greeted them. It was simple, but breathtaking. High ivory ceilings with exposed beams. Dark wood pews. A gorgeous gold alter. And white flowers and white lit candles everywhere.

The music had come from the side of the church where what looked like a full choir and several musicians were practicing. The church was virtually empty aside from the choir and a man watching them from one of the back pews.

The man caught sight of the two new visitors and waved them over.

Mac followed Harm to where the gentleman pointed and they quietly took a seat behind him.

The man, dressed in black, turned around, his arm on the top of the pew. “Non sono meravigliosi?”

“Stupire,” she responded, agreeing with his high praise for the musicians.

“You’re Americans,” he said in a thick brogue. It wasn’t a question.

“And you’re Irish,” Harm said.

The man reached a hand toward Harm and it was then she saw his white collar. “Samuel O’Brien.”

Harm took his hand. “Harmon Rabb. It’s nice to meet you, Father.”

She shook his hand as well. “Sarah Mackenzie, Father.”

He laughed. “A fellow Irishman, or Irishwoman, I should say.”

Mac smiled back at him. “Proudly.”

“Where do you two hail from?”

“Washington, D.C.” they both said in unison.

The priest nodded enthusiastically. “A great American city. I was assigned to St. Matthews shortly after I was ordained.”

“Off Rhode Island in Northwest DC. I’ve been to Mass there. That is a beautiful church,” she said before gesturing to the choir. “What are they practicing for, Father?”

“We have a wedding here in a couple hours. Gorgeous young Florence couple. It will be a very happy occasion indeed.”

“On a Tuesday night,” she asked.

“Yes, around the holidays in Italy, it is common to marry any day of the week. Italians take long vacations around Christmas, much more so than Americans. We have a wedding tonight and one on Thursday evening as well.”

She took in the sanctuary again. The white flowers, candles and the white robes on the musicians made more sense now. “What a wonderful place to get married.”

Father O’Brien pointed at Mac’s hand. “Speaking of, when is your big day?” He looked at Harm. “Am I to assume you’re the lucky groom-to-be?”

Harm looked over at her and took her hand, and she felt the now familiar gooey warmth of love wash through her. “You have no idea just how lucky, Father.”

She looked back at the priest. “We haven’t settled on a date yet.”

He nodded. “Are you getting married in Washington?”

Mac looked over at her fiancé. “We haven’t really decided that either.”

“Wherever it is, I hope it’s half as incredible as your Church here, Father.” Harm added.

Just then, the choir finished the song they were performing and one of the soloists walked to the back of the Church, addressing the priest. “Scusarsi, Sam di Padre. Faremo un intervallo prima della cerimonia.”

Father O’Brien nodded and stood before bidding Harm and Mac farewell. “I must go and finalize preparations for this evening. Best of luck to you both. And, if you don’t find that special place, come back here anytime, my friends. It would be my honor to join you in holy matrimony. Ciao for now.”

As the musicians packed up their instruments, Harm led Mac out of the Church. They both took a moment to take in the ancient stone exterior of the building.

On the side of the entrance was a plaque. “Can you believe this, Harm? This church, called the Church of Santa Trinita, was built in the 11th century.”

“Incredible,” he responded.

As they continued walking down the narrow road, Mac looked back and took one last look at the extraordinary church.

Harm stopped walking, noticing her interest. “You liked it there, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “It’s stunning.”

He looked her in the eyes, “I know it’s not exactly a hill somewhere with goats and sheep, but…”

Mac couldn’t believe he remembered the off-handed comment Mic had made so many years ago during the awkward night they spent with Harm and Renee listening to music at a local club. She also couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. “Are you serious?”

Harm shrugged. “I am, but it’s up to you.”

At the moment, she couldn’t think of anything more romantic, more perfect than marrying him as soon as she could, but she had to make sure he was sure. “You wouldn’t regret not having a big military wedding?”

He leaned closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “This is about us, not anyone else.”

“Let’s do it,” she said, feeling her stomach jump with nerves, adrenaline.

“Why don’t we go back and see Father O’Brien. See if it is even possible?” Harm took her hand, leading the way back to the old church.

Hours later, Harm and Mac stood out on the second story veranda of the Burnetts’ villa, overlooking the majestic Italian countryside and the twinkling lights of Florence.

When they had gone back to the Church of Santa Trinita, Father O’Brien didn’t seem surprised to see them, as if he had been expecting them to come back. He made good on his word, agreeing to marry them and offered up the Church for the very next day. As he explained, tomorrow evening would be the annual New Year’s Eve Mass. The Church would still be decorated in the white flowers and candles and the choir would be performing again. He suggested they get married right after the 5:00 pm service.

Intoxicated by their spontaneity, Harm and Mac had spent the afternoon shopping, both together and apart. They had bought wedding rings from a quaint Italian jeweler. Mac had slipped away from him briefly to pick out a simple white slip dress from a designer off of Via della Vigna Nuova.

Just after they parted to shop for clothes for the next day, Harm had shouted across the street to her. “What should I wear?”

“Anything you want!” She shouted back, attracting the attention of many of the passersby.

“You’re not helping!”

She walked back over to him, her fingers playing with his collar. “Black suit. White shirt, but don’t buy a tie. Just something simple. It’s just us.”

He kissed her. “See you in a couple hours, Marine?”

On her way back from shopping for her dress, Mac picked up some pasta and vegetables at a local market, enough to make a simple dinner at the villa. After they had eaten, they’d stepped out on the veranda to take in the evening lights.

Mac leaned forward against the railing, comfortably ensconced in his arms. “Are we crazy?”

“Probably,” he replied as he lowered his lips to her neck.

She turned in his arms. “Are you sure about this, Harm?”

“Are you not,” he asked back, a familiar hedge.

“A week ago, I wasn’t even sure we were still friends. Now, we’re getting married tomorrow five thousand miles away from the reality of our lives.”

He shook his head. “We don’t have to do this. I just thought…”

“What,” she quietly implored, urging him to continue.

“I know this is fast, but I feel like my life has been stuck in neutral for eight years and I hated it. I didn’t know how much I hated it or how much I’ve missed out of my life by not being in your life until I saw you on Christmas Eve.”

“I feel the same why, I just don’t want…” she trailed off.

“You don’t want what?”

Mac sighed. “I don’t want to wake up next to you in a few months when we’re back in D.C., when we’re back to being Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie and have you regret this whole thing and hate me for letting us do this.”

“If the only thing making you question marrying me tomorrow is whether or not you think I’m going to second guess the best decision of my life, let it go. I love you. I want you. I’ve loved you for years and I want this. I’ve spent every moment of the last few years wanting you or trying not to want you or pretending I don’t want you. And, I’m tired of it. I’ve been in love with you for so long I can’t remember what it felt like not to be. If I have to resign from the Navy when we get back so we can stay together, I don’t care. This will still be the best thing I’ve ever done.”

She suddenly realized they had never discussed their situation at JAG, the fact that they technically couldn’t be in the same chain of command and be married. It had never crossed her mind to talk about it because she knew it wasn’t an issue anymore, but he didn’t. Now she felt horribly for forgetting to tell him about her appointment to the bench. However, the fact that he was willing to offer to resign without even discussing whether it should have been her to resign erased any lingering doubts about their decision.

“That was one hell of a closing argument, counselor,” she whispered, swiping a hand at her watering eyes.

He smiled down at her. “So you’ll marry me tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “But I need to apologize for something first.”

Harm looked at her questioningly. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t mean not to tell you. I can’t believe I didn’t tell you. It’s just been so crazy, finding you back in D.C. and then traveling here.”

He started to look concerned. “Just tell me, Mac.”

She took a deep breath. “When I called the Admiral a few weeks ago to tell him I wanted to come back to Washington and not stay in Naples, he offered me another job. An appointment to the bench. I guess I was nominated by Judge Helfman. I accepted the judgeship. I’ll still be stationed at headquarters though.”

Harm’s look of concern turned to surprise. “You’re going to be a judge?”

She laughed nervously. “I know, I was stunned too. It will probably only take them a week or two to figure out what an awful decision they made.”

He surprised her by pulling her close and holding her tightly. “That’s incredible. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you. Is it what you want though?”

“It is. I thought about it for days after the Admiral offered the position and I really want it. I loved my time on the bench last year and I think it’s a good fit.”

“You’re going to be amazing, Mac.”

“You’re not mad?”

“How could I be mad? Neither of us has to leave JAG or the military. It’s perfect.”

She thought back to her conversation with the Admiral at Harriet and Bud’s Christmas party, when he asked her if she had spoken to Harm. “You think the Admiral made this happen so we could be together?”

Harm shrugged. “I think you earned the slot. But it probably entered his mind this would make things easier for us if we were to get together.”

They laughed and Harm kissed the top of her head. “We’ll have to get him a fruit basket or something. So about tomorrow, you’ll be at the Church? You wouldn’t be cruel enough to leave me at the alter, right?”

“I can’t wait. God I love you.” Mac kissed him then, full on the mouth.

1830 CET (Local)
Wednesday evening
December 31, 2003
The Church of Santa Trinita
Florence, Italy

“Some day, when I'm awfully low, When the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you. And the way you look tonight.” – Tony Bennett, The Way You Look Tonight

Fulfilling their silent hopes, their wedding day was the best day either of them had ever had, even blowing the last week out of the water. They’d spent the whole day apart – Mac had booked a day at the spa and a hair appointment before she headed to the Church early to change into the simple white Gucci slip dress and matching heels she purchased the previous day.

An hour later, Harm knocked on the door of the Ladies’ Lounge where she was waiting. She opened it to find him freshly showered and looking devastatingly handsome in a simple but sleek black suit, white shirt and dress shoes. No tie, exactly what she had asked for.

“Mac, you look incredible,” he said, his eyes running up and down her form.

“So do you, but you know it’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.”

He took her in his arms. “Not one thing could ruin this day.”

A little while later, shortly after the Mass had ended and the crowd had departed, Father O’Brien had made good on his word, marrying Harm and Mac, his thick Irish brogue bouncing off the walls of the nearly empty ancient Italian church as his deacon and the full choir and musicians served as witnesses to the ceremony.

When Father O’Brien had pronounced them man and wife, Harm leaned in to whisper in her ear before kissing her. “Hell of a way to begin the New Year, Mackenzie.”

She laughed. "You mean Rabb."

He laughed too and they just stared at each other for a moment, amazed at what they had just done.

"Now, are you ever going to kiss me, Harm?"

To the delight of their witnesses, he finally did.

Harm was right. It wasn’t a hill with goats and sheep. But, it was them and it was perfect.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]



Replies:

[> Oooohhhh! Welcome back, Cammy! -- yiota, 17:55:25 03/08/13 Fri [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> So happy to have you back. Beautiful wedding. Can't wait for more. -- Beth, 18:19:47 03/08/13 Fri [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> beautiful -- Karen joy, 22:57:21 03/08/13 Fri [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> Soooooo very glad you are back. Thanks for a wonderful installment! -- Shazam, 02:14:00 03/09/13 Sat [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> That was so gorgeous, Cammy, and perfect for Harm and Mac! Welcome back! -- Dee, 05:36:58 03/09/13 Sat [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> How perfectly perfect, well worth the wait! So glad to see this continue, and, welcome back Cammy! -- JoyZ, 09:51:27 03/09/13 Sat [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> Thanks Cammy. Great chapter. Worth the wait!!! -- Kelsey, 14:05:25 03/09/13 Sat [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> welcome back Cammy worth the wait loved it -- Bev uk, 16:04:08 03/09/13 Sat [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> Fantastic story, but I have a minor nitpick. Mac is Irish Catholic but it is from her mother's side, O'Hara. MacKenzie is Scottish, not Irish. An Irish Catholic priest would not make that mistake. How do I know? I'm Scottish (McLean) and married to a beautiful Irish Catholic girl (Monahan). -- Brian McLean, 15:20:48 03/11/13 Mon [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> Blew me out of the water Cammy -- marye904, 01:34:00 03/15/13 Fri [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> Having visited Florence many years ago, felt as though I'd been invited to the beautiful wedding. Believe I recall the church and perhaps we stayed in the villa! Am also happy you've returned and continued with this wonderful story. Thanks for including us in your delightful story telling. -- carramor, 13:37:56 03/16/13 Sat [1]


[ Edit | View ]
[> Finally had a chance to read your wonderful story and so happy you are almost finished. Just love the way you wrote....... inside for the rest. Oh Cammy where are you with the rest of your story!!! -- Can Sheshe, 20:34:55 03/22/13 Fri [1]

their beautiful wedding.


[ Edit | View ]

[> welcome back cammy. great wedding .A Harm and MAc wedding -- marye904, 14:26:03 04/25/13 Thu [1]


[ Edit | View ]



[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-5
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.