"He needs a vacation."
"True. It'll be good for him. Won't hurt him to have a big wedding and reception, either. He hasn't bothered to entertain his neighbors since he arrived in Hawk Springs. Oh, if someone drops by, he's generous enough. He'll invite 'em to stay for drinks and dinner. But he's never gone in for much socializing."
"He probably doesn't know how," Devon said thoughtfully. "He used to be married, you know. I imagine his ex-wife handled that side of things for him."
"The divorce was hard on him," Bev said. "He'd been free almost a year when he bought this place and moved here, but I could tell he was still affected by what had happened. He never talked much about his ex-wife, of course. Garth isn't the type to tell you about himself. No one in town knows much about his past other than the fact that he owns a fair amount of land here in California and some over in Arizona. He knows ranching inside out, he works hard and he's whip smart when it comes to business. That's about all anyone is ever likely to learn about him." Bev paused and then said in a low, meaningful tone, "She ran off with another man, you know."
"He mentioned it." Devon took a sip of coffee.
"Hard on a man's pride when something like that happens."
Devon shrugged. "Equally hard on a woman's pride when her husband runs off with another woman."
Bev smiled. "You're absolutely right, of course. And I guess it happens all the time these days, doesn't it?"
"All the time."
Bev poured more coffee. "That's one problem you won't ever have to worry about, though."
"Garth running off with another woman?" Devon shook her head, aware of a deep sense of certainty and satisfaction. "No, I won't, will I? Garth doesn't do things that way. He's up front and honest about everything. He'd never sneak around behind my back with another woman."
"He's a hard man, Devon, but he's a good man. He just needs a little softening up around the edges."
"I'm going to try, Bev," Devon told her with sudden resolution. "Let's just hope I don't get pulverized in the process."
"Are you kidding? That man has been putty in your hands since the day he met you."
Devon stared at her, astounded, and then she burst out laughing. "If Garth is an example of putty in my hands, I'd hate to be holding something hard."
Bev grinned a woman-to-woman sort of grin. "I expect Garth could arrange that, too, but knowing him, it won't happen in this house until he's got a ring on your finger. If you ask me, it's too bad he's so determined to wait."
Devon's brows rose. "I had no idea you had such racy notions, Bev."
"I think Garth would be a much happier man if he were sleeping with you now, instead of holding off until after the wedding. A man like him needs a woman. He's been too long without one."
Devon flushed, remembering Garth's lazy contentment after he had made love to her in her San Francisco flat. His mood had definitely changed for the better until she'd ruined everything by suggesting they have an affair instead of getting married. "I'll keep your advice in mind, Bev. Let's talk about something else."
"Such as?"
"Dinner. Take the evening off. I'm going to cook tonight."
Bev looked surprised and then she nodded. "Suits me. Might take in a movie with my sister. There's a new film down at the theater."
"What's it called?" When Bev told her, Devon chuckled. "It's good. I saw it several months ago in San Francisco. Figures it's just hitting Hawk Springs now." She got to her feet. "I'm going to go shopping for groceries later this morning. Which car shall I use?"
"I usually take the station wagon into town for groceries. The keys are by the front door. But I've got plenty of stuff in the freezer. No need to go the market."
"That's all right," Devon told her firmly. "I feel like something fresh for dinner."
In the end, she wound up going to the market in Ryan's shiny red sports car. He came back to the house about midmorning to pick up some tools and when he saw Devon about to leave in the station wagon, he obligingly tossed her the keys to his car.
"Here, no need to embarrass yourself on the road in that tank," he said easily. "Take mine. It'll look much better on you than that station wagon."
"Thanks, Ryan, I appreciate it. I'll be very careful. How are you and Garth doing today?"
Ryan grimaced. "Just fine as long as I don't bring up the subject of going into business with Phil Ordway." He hesitated in the doorway for a moment. "You know, I didn't think Garth would get you back here. I thought once you were free, you'd be smart enough to stay gone. Are you sure you know what you're doing, Devon?"
"No, but Garth is." She tossed the keys into the air and walked out the door. "See you later."
She spotted Garth in the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the drive in the shiny little car. He didn't look pleased with her choice of vehicle. She put her hand out the window and waved cheerily.
The new supermarket was a definite improvement over the small, old-fashioned grocery store where Devon had shopped when she lived in Hawk Springs. These aisles were a good deal less congested, but it still wasn't easy to make her way down them because everyone she saw wanted to stop and chat. Almost everyone recognized her and curiosity was rampant. Devon decided to be forthright and blasé about the entire subject of her return to town.
"Oh, yes, haven't you heard?" she found herself saying over and over again. "Garth and I are going to be married in three weeks. Yes, it's been quite a long engagement. You know Garth, he never does anything in a hurry. Likes to think about his decisions. You'll be getting an invitation to the wedding this week. Please plan on coming. We'd love to have you."
She had repeated the litany a dozen times before she rounded the bread counter and nearly collided with an attractive young woman her own age.
"Excuse me," Devon said quickly, narrowly averting a collision of shopping carts.
"My fault. I shouldn't have been standing in the middle of the aisle." The woman regarded her with deep interest. "I'm Rita Dennison. I couldn't help overhearing what you were saying to Mrs. Bridger. You're marrying Garth Saxon?" Rita had a sunny smile, a ponytail and a pair of inquiring brown eyes. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
"That's right," Devon said easily. She reached down for a package of rice. "The only Dennison I knew when I left town last year was one named Sam. He had a ranch not far from Garth's stud farm. Any connection?"
"I married Sam a few months ago. I used to live in San Diego."
"Quite a switch."
"I grew up on a farm, but I never thought I'd marry a country boy. When I went to college I had a lawyer or a business executive in mind." Rita laughed. "But things change."
"I know the feeling. I had a few plans myself when I left town a year ago." Devon had the distinct impression she was going to like Rita Dennison.
The conversation in the aisle went on for another fifteen minutes before Rita said impulsively, "Listen, Sam and I are having a big barbecue on Sunday to celebrate finishing our new house. We invited Garth last week, but he said he couldn't make it. Said he already had plans for this weekend. Any chance you could change his mind?"
Devon smiled slowly. "As it happens, I know for a fact that Garth's plans for this weekend have changed drastically. We'll be glad to come to your barbecue."
"Great. Bring anyone else you'd like along. It's going to be my first major party and I'm terrified that no one will show."
Devon thought of Ryan. "Okay, I'll see if I can drum up some business. We'll see you Sunday afternoon, Rita."
"I'm delighted. I'm glad to find someone else my own age living nearby."
Devon laughed and started down the aisle with a pleased feeling. She wondered what Garth would say when she told him she'd accepted an invitation on his behalf.
As it turned out Garth was more alarmed by the absence of Bev Middleton that evening than he was by the information that Devon had planned to attend the party. He paced into the kitchen af
ter washing up for dinner and glared at Devon.
"Where's Bev?"
"Having dinner with her sister. Afterward they're both going to a movie. Go on into the living room, Garth, we're going to have some wine before dinner."
Ryan appeared in the doorway. "Now that sounds like an absolutely brilliant suggestion. I'll pour."
Garth ignored the byplay. "Bev is supposed to be here every night."
"She'll be back in plenty of time to save your reputation, Garth," Devon assured him. "Calm down and go into the living room. I'll be in as soon as I put the rice on to cook."
"Damn it, it's not my reputation I'm worried about, Devon. I don't want people talking about you."
He was interrupted by Ryan, who was inhaling with great pleasure. "Smells good," Ryan observed, examining the label on the bottle of white wine he'd found in the refrigerator. "What's for dinner?"
"Chicken curry with all the condiments. I actually found a bottle of chutney in the new supermarket."
"Ah, civilization strikes Hawk Springs at last." Ryan deftly removed the cork from the bottle and picked up three glasses. "Garth, you've never had it so good. Let's go work up an appetite in the appropriate manner."
Garth cast an odd look at Devon but finally turned to follow his brother into the living room. Devon went after them as soon as she'd turned down the heat on the rice. She found both men waiting for her, their glasses filled. She sank down onto the old sofa and lifted her glass.
Casually she told Garth and Ryan about the invitation to the Dennisons'. Garth thought about it, shrugged and finally nodded. He sipped his wine as Devon went on to tell Ryan he was invited also.
"If I'm still here, I'll go with you," Ryan agreed. "My plans aren't settled yet." He glanced at Garth who ignored him.
For a moment Devon was afraid Ryan might ruin the beginning of the evening by bringing up the subject of his business plans, but he refrained. Gratefully she guided the conversation into less threatening channels. Garth needed this little evening ritual to unwind after a hard day's work, she told herself. She wanted to avoid controversial topics.
By the time dinner was served Garth was looking more relaxed than he had all day. He sat down to the chicken curry with a dubious expression, but it wasn't long before he was asking for seconds.
The evening passed without incident. Ryan read the evening paper and watched television while Garth clobbered Devon three times in a row over a checkerboard. Apparently vastly satisfied with his victories, he then announced he was going to do some work in his study. He disappeared, leaving Ryan and Devon behind in the living room.
Ryan was silent for a moment before observing, "This is the best mood he's been in for months. I'd better strike while the iron is hot." He got to his feet.
Devon winced. "Maybe you should wait a couple of days, Ryan."
"I can't. I haven't got the time. Phil wants to move now and I have to know if I'm going to get Garth's backing."
"I don't think his mood has changed enough to make him want to give you money, Ryan," Devon warned.
"All I'm going to try for tonight is to get Garth to agree to at least talk to Phil."
"Good luck."
"Thanks, I'll need it."
Devon picked up a magazine without glancing at the title. She turned the pages absently while she listened for sounds of an explosion from the study.
There was silence for a reassuring length of time and as she grew less tense, Devon took more notice of what she was reading. It was, predictably enough, a magazine for breeders and buyers of Arabian horses and it was more than a year old. She was about to toss it back down onto the stack when she saw a familiar photograph of Royal Standard. The stallion was posed in all his arrogant beauty, his small delicate ears at attention, fine nostrils flared and smoothly muscled shoulders well displayed. The equine intelligence and quivering vitality of the animal came through brilliantly.
Devon had worked for hours getting Royal Standard so beautifully posed. Garth had handled the stallion while she took her shots. The result had been pretty good, even if she did say so herself.
The page with the photograph had been well thumbed, Devon noted. She realized that Garth must have turned to it many times. She was thinking about Garth sitting alone here in the evenings studying the photo she'd taken of the stallion, when the long-delayed explosion finally occurred in the study.
Actually, it was Ryan's voice she heard most clearly. He was arguing passionately while Garth, as usual, was under full control. Garth never yelled. He didn't have to raise his voice to accomplish his goals. Ultimately he was always in charge and he knew it. So did everyone else around him. The outcome was quite predictable. Ryan eventually gave up and stormed out of the study. He headed straight upstairs, without bothering to say good-night to Devon. The study door slammed behind him and remained ominously closed.
Devon waited five long minutes and then she got up, went into the kitchen and took down the ancient brandy bottle from the high cupboard where it was stored between Christmas and Thanksgiving. Bottle in hand, she went down the hall to the study and knocked.
Without waiting for an answer she opened the door and stepped inside. Garth was sitting behind his desk, his face a grim mask as he examined some account books open in front of him. He looked up with a forbidding expression as the door opened and then he relaxed slightly.
"I thought you might need this," Devon said, tipping the brandy bottle over a small glass and handing the drink to him.
"Ryan's the one who needs the drink, but I'll take it. That boy is going to succeed in making me lose my temper one of these days."
"I think," Devon said gently as she sat down on the other side of the desk, "you're going to have to stop thinking of him as a boy."
"How can I do that as long as he's coming up with these hare-brained schemes?" Garth took a long swallow of the brandy.
"Can't you give him a chance with this particular scheme, Garth?"
He eyed her consideringly. "A chance? Have you any idea of how much money he's asking for?"
"No. And I didn't mean for you to just hand over the money. But you could agree to meet his partner."
"This so-called partner of his sounds fishy, Devon."
She sighed. "I'll admit you're usually right when it comes to judging people, but you haven't even met this guy."
"There's no need. I can tell from what Ryan says that this Phil Ordway is nothing but a fast-talking con man who's got his hooks into my brother. Probably thinks he can use Ryan to drain money out of Ryan's dumb rancher of a brother."
Devon smiled slightly. "Let Phil meet you and find out for himself that conning you out of a bundle of cash is going to be harder than taking the stripes off a tiger. A meeting between you and Ordway should settle things one way or another. And Ryan will know that at least you gave his plans some legitimate consideration."
Garth watched her silently over the top of his brandy. "His scheme doesn't deserve any legitimate consideration."
"Maybe not, but Ryan does. He needs to know you have some respect for his judgment."
Garth exhaled deeply. "He isn't as easy to handle as Lee was. Hell, it's easier to handle my men than it is to handle my brother."
"That's because he is your brother, Garth. I've told you that. It's always different when it's family. You've spent so long looking after him that it's hard for you to realize he can look after himself. Believe me, after raising Lee and Kurt, I know what I'm talking about."
Garth took another sip of brandy and sat in silence for a long time. "All right," he said finally. "I'll tell Ryan he can invite Ordway here for a meeting. But no promises and definitely no financial commitments."
Devon's smile grew gentle. "Thanks, Garth. I think it will be an excellent way of handling the situation. Afterward you can still tell Ryan you're not interested in the deal. At least he'll know you've given it a chance. Just treat him as the intelligent person he is. Maybe he is way off base trying to
go into business with Ordway, but a lot of more experienced people have made similar mistakes. It doesn't mean he's really lacking in judgment or common sense. He's just ambitious and anxious to make his mark in the world."
"Mmm." Garth didn't look convinced but his gaze was a good deal less forbidding. "Speaking of judgment and common sense, I've been intending to go over this nonsense of your being in the stock market."
Devon took the last swallow from her glass and smiled sweetly. "I think you've got enough on your mind for now. Don't fret yourself about my little forays into the stock market. We can discuss it at another time."
His eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and masculine wariness. "Why do I get the feeling you've got a natural talent for leading me in the direction you want me to go?" He got slowly to his feet and came around the edge of the desk. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we should skip my lecture on the evils of the stock market tonight. God knows I've got a few other things besides that on my mind at the moment."
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Such as?"
He reached down and hauled her lightly to her feet. "Such as wishing to hell you hadn't put the wedding off for three long weeks. The waiting may kill me."
His mouth captured hers with a sudden intensity that took away Devon's breath and called forth an immediate, vital response from her senses. Without any hesitation she put her arms around his neck and let herself melt against Garth's hard frame.
"Devon, honey, I want you so much. You don't know how it is for me. I spent last night lying awake for hours thinking about the night we spent in your apartment. I thought once I had you under my roof, the sleepless nights would be over. I should have known better." His lips roved over her cheek to the soft, scented place behind her ear and then he pushed her hair away from the back of her neck and kissed her on her nape.
Devon shivered and tightened her hold on him. He slid his hands down to her hips, lifting her, pulling her against the straining heat of his thighs. She could feel the taut, waiting need in him and it sent a thrill of love and excitement through her veins. "Garth?"
"I know, babe, I know. Me, too." He leaned back against the desk and spread his booted feet wide. Then he urged her close, his big hands cupping her hips and anchoring her firmly between his jeaned legs. "Every time I think of my bed upstairs, just waiting for you, I want to haul you across the state line into Nevada and skip this whole wedding scene bit."
Saxon's Lady Page 8
