"Maybe you're being too hard on yourself. On both of us." She kissed the strong column of his neck. "Why should we wait? Ryan's gone to bed. Bev's not here. This is your house, Garth. You can do as you like."
He shuddered and caught her face between his hands, kissing her breathless. "You're right. Why the hell am I waiting? No one will know and I need you so much tonight."
The sound of tires crunching gravel in the drive broke into the strained, sensual atmosphere of the small room, cutting off Garth's words before he could finish.
"Oh, hell," he said through set teeth. "That's Bev." Very carefully he put Devon away from him. "Go."
"Where?"
"Upstairs. To bed. Now. Move, woman."
Devon saw the flaring hunger in his eyes and smiled gently, teasingly. "Yes, sir, boss. I'm on my way. But if you're in another bad mood in the morning, don't blame me."
"I'll blame whoever I like for my bad moods," he informed her grimly. "Now disappear."
Devon disappeared. On her way up the stairs she thought a lot about old-fashioned males who went out of their way to protect their women from gossip.
Men like Garth Saxon were rare in today's world.
Six
Garth's familiar dour morning mood was worse than usual the next day when he showed up for breakfast. The strict, no-nonsense quality that seemed so characteristic of him was stronger than ever as he gave orders for the day's work. Steve and Cal drank coffee in silence and listened to the instructions without offering any comment. Ryan sat in stony sullenness on one side of the table. Devon tried a few casual remarks about the weather but Bev was the only one who responded. Even Bev, herself, seemed to be walking on eggs around Garth, along with everyone else.
Nothing lightened in the room until Garth finished his coffee and got to his feet. Halfway to the door, he turned to his half brother.
"You can invite this Phil Ordway to come here for a day. I'll sit down with the two of you and listen to your plans. But no guarantees. Clear?"
Ryan's sullenness vanished to be replaced by a relieved, thankful grin. "Perfectly clear, big brother. Thanks. I'll call him this morning. You won't regret this, I promise."
Garth's gaze went briefly to Devon's face. His mouth curved sardonically. "Let's hope not." The screen door slammed shut behind him and Steve and Cal.
There was a moment of silence in the cozy kitchen while Bev and Ryan stared at Devon, who calmly munched toast.
"I assume Garth's change of mind is your doing?" Ryan demanded cheerfully.
"Well, I did discuss the matter with him last night after you'd gone to bed," Devon admitted.
Bev chuckled, nodding in satisfaction. "It was her doing, all right. Not much on the face of this earth that can change Garth's mind once he's made a decision."
"Except Devon?" Ryan offered.
"Except Devon," Bev agreed.
"Uh," said Devon cautiously, "I wouldn't get too carried away with the idea that I've got some magic power over him, if I were you. The simple truth is that I gave him a reasonable suggestion that, Garth, being a reasonable man, accepted."
Ryan's grin broadened. "Once Garth's mind is made up, he's no more susceptible to sweet reason than he is to any other force. No, Devon, it must have been magic. That's the only explanation."
"Woman magic," Bev elaborated. "Powerful stuff. Now, if you could just do something about his morning moods, we'd all get down on our knees and kiss your toes, Devon. That man hasn't exactly been a ray of sunshine in the mornings for the past year, but it seems to me that lately he's deteriorating."
"Yeah," Ryan observed. "He is getting worse, isn't he?"
Devon set her coffee cup down with a clatter. "If you two are finished chortling, I think I will excuse myself. There are some things I want to do today."
"Like what?" Bev asked curiously.
"I'm going to start with the living room. My furniture should be here soon and I have plans for it. This whole house needs a face-lift."
"But Garth just had it painted a couple months ago. I expect he was getting it ready for you."
"That was thoughtful of him," Devon said, "but this place needs a lot more than a paint job. Oh, and by the way, Bev, if you want to make plans for this evening again, feel free. I'll be handling the evening meals from now on. You've got your hands full as it is."
Bev looked surprised, but not displeased. "All the evening meals?"
"If you don't mind."
"Heck, no, I don't mind. Back when the Simpsons had this place, I just took care of lunch for the Simpsons and their hands and did the housecleaning. Mrs. Simpson handled breakfast and dinner. I only started in full-time when Garth bought Hawk's Flight and needed someone to look after him."
"The arrangements you had with the Simpsons will work out fine after Garth and I are married," Devon decided.
"Sounds good to me," Bev announced.
Ryan glanced at his watch. "I can't wait to call Phil. He'll be in his office in a couple of hours. What a break. This is going to make all the difference in the world." He surged to his feet and gave Devon a quick, brotherly hug. "Thanks, Devon. I really appreciate this."
"I hope it works out," she said wryly," but frankly, I wouldn't count on anything, if I were you. Garth can be awfully stubborn."
"He wouldn't have told me to invite Phil here unless he was willing to at least listen seriously to our plans," Ryan assured her. Whistling, he strode out of the kitchen.
Bev smiled knowingly at Devon. "As soon as word gets out you can wrap Garth around your little finger, you're going to have all sorts of folks coming to you asking you to speak to Garth for them."
Devon shook her head mournfully. "I don't know why everyone thinks I'm wrapping him around my little finger. All I did was speak to the man."
The phone rang before Bev could respond to that. Devon was closest and automatically she reached out to pick up the receiver. The caller asked for Mr. Saxon, and when Devon told him he wasn't immediately available, the voice on the other end of the line explained his business.
Devon listened politely, told the man who she was and then proceeded to handle the matter at hand. By the time she got off the phone, Bev was staring at her.
"That was McShaney?" Bev asked bluntly. "The McShaney who's been talking about buying one of Garth's colts?"
"The same, I gather." Devon was busily jotting down notes to herself on a pad.
"You invited him and his wife to stay here overnight when they come to see the colts?" Bev was looking distinctly disconcerted.
"Of course. Can't expect them to stay at the motel on the other side of town. You know as well as I do, that place is a dump. They'll be much more comfortable here. We've got plenty of bedrooms. They won't be arriving until next month and by then I'll have this place looking like it belongs in the current decade instead of the 1950s."
"Yes, but that's not the point. Garth's never done business that way. He invites people here to see the horses, but he doesn't entertain them, if you know what I mean."
"This is big business, Bev. Have you any idea how much money is involved in the sale of just one of Garth's prize colts? We're talking thousands of dollars. With that kind of money at stake, a businessman should expect to entertain a client occasionally."
Bev gave her a speculative glance. "It'll be interesting to see what Garth says when he finds out."
"Yes it will, won't it?" Devon agreed with an airy attitude that belied her inner uncertainty. She went outside into the rapidly warming morning to find the master of the house.
He was exactly where she had expected to find him, peering over the shoulder of the contractor who was building the new barn. When she hailed him, he frowned in her direction, said something to the builder and then strode over to where Devon was standing.
"What's up?" he asked briskly.
She told him about the impending visit from the buyer and Garth listened attentively until she got to the part about inviting McShaney and h
is wife to stay the night.
"You did what?"
"I invited them to stay here, Garth. They'll be spending the whole day talking business with you. You can't send them down the road to that rundown motel on the other side of Hawk Springs. That place will make a very bad impression."
"I'm not out to make a good impression on McShaney. I'm trying to sell him a horse!"
"You're a businessman, Garth. You have to act like one."
"This may come as a shock to you, Devon, but I've been doing just fine taking care of business in my own way."
She smiled brilliantly. "You'll do even better when you try it my way. Trust me, Garth. I know what I'm doing. I've spent a year in the big city, remember? For twelve months I've been working for successful businesses of all kinds. I've learned a lot. When you're involved in the kind of money these horses bring, it's important to be gracious and hospitable. Creates a good image."
"But I don't have the time to entertain buyers!" he exploded.
Devon's smile didn't alter. "You've got me to handle that side of things for you. You wanted to marry a woman who would be a working partner here at Hawk's Flight. Okay, you've got a working partner. Me."
He gave her a curious, burning look. "Is that right?"
"That's right, Garth."
Devon felt him testing her willpower in some silent, intense fashion she didn't quite understand. She wondered what it was he wanted to discover. But nothing was said and after a moment Garth simply nodded brusquely. "All right, we'll give it a try your way. I've been trying to close this deal with McShaney for four months. If it settles next month, I'll admit you might know what you're doing."
"And if it doesn't settle next month?"
"Then," he said smoothly, "you'll admit that doing things your way is a waste of time and effort and we'll go back to doing them my way." He started to turn and then paused. "Why don't you get your camera out this afternoon? It's time we updated the ads for Royal Standard and High Flyer. You could take some preliminary shots. Get some ideas together. I'd like to do something that'll really get attention this time."
Devon nodded agreeably. She leaned against a fence, gazing out toward a small cluster of mares grazing in the pasture. "Have you thought about putting together a brochure for Hawk's Flight, Garth? You know, one of those slick, glossy things that can be mailed to prospective buyers or people who are in the market for stud service. Something classy and upscale."
He shrugged. "I know what you mean. I've seen promotional pamphlets from other stud farms. It would be a lot of work."
"I did some photography and layout work this past year and I had some experience with it in college. With the help of a good printer, I could handle the job."
He smiled faintly. "When I thought of you as a partner here I had visions of you planting a garden and supervising the house."
' 'You didn't see me getting involved in the business end of things?" she asked with a teasing light in her eyes.
He took a deep breath and let it out in a long, considering sigh as he leaned against the fence beside her. "Truth is, I don't think I thought much beyond getting you here and keeping you here on a permanent basis. I guess I didn't sit down and make a list of things I thought you'd handle. I knew you'd be busy. Seems like there's always plenty to do around a place this size."
True enough, Devon thought in amusement. Any rancher's or farmer's wife could testify to that fact. Her own mother had always worked as hard as her father, and Devon knew every successful farm and ranch in the vicinity had a woman on it who was as involved in the day-today business as her husband. It had been that way for families that worked the land and raised animals since time immemorial.
The knowledge of just how much work was involved and how long the hours could be on a ranch or a farm was what drove many young women to the city to look for a different way of life.
But there was a certain unique satisfaction to the lifestyle, too, Devon told herself as she gazed out over the green fields and sleek Arabians. For the first time, she could admit to herself that she hadn't really found everything she'd wanted in the city. A part of her had missed the land and the feeling of dealing in the basics of life.
"I'll dig out my camera after lunch," she said softly. "Taking pictures of horses will be a change from the kind of free-lance photography I did in San Francisco."
"What kind of photography was that?" Garth asked curiously.
"Well, on one job I got to take pictures of screwdrivers and drills for a manufacturer's catalog. You have no idea how hard it is to make screwdrivers and electric drills look colorful and interesting. On another assignment I spent a couple of weeks shooting furnaces and heat pumps."
"Sounds dull."
"It was." Devon laughed softly. "When I got really fed up I went to Golden Gate Park and took pictures of tourists taking pictures of squirrels. To tell you the truth, those were my best shots."
"You were meant to work with living creatures, Devon, not mechanical, city things. You belong here in the country."
Devon couldn't think of anything to say to that so she said good-morning and returned to the house. There was plenty to do, including planning a wedding.
* * *
The remainder of the week passed quickly. Ryan announced Phil Ordway would be arriving on Sunday and he intended to take him to the party at the Dennisons' that evening. Ryan was elated with his plans to introduce Phil and Garth.
Garth's morning moods didn't lighten and there were days when Devon wondered just how much he'd slept during the night. There was a taut, drawn expression around his eyes that told its own tale some mornings and he went through a lot of coffee before he left the house.
Bev Middleton raised her brows in a knowing fashion a time or two after Garth lost his temper over some small matter, and Devon knew the older woman assumed everything would change when Garth had a woman in his bed.
Devon wasn't so sure, but she found herself plowing ahead with the wedding plans. She was committed now and every day seemed to reinforce the sense of commitment. It was as if having been forced to face Hawk Springs again, she was somehow free to confront her love for Garth. It flowered daily, driving out a year's worth of doubts and fear.
Her precious furniture arrived on Friday and Devon took advantage of Garth's absence from the stud farm to have the movers install the pieces exactly where she wanted them. She had given the matter a great deal of thought and was generally pleased with the outcome.
The living room needed a lot more work, but the addition of the black chairs and love seat, together with the odd pieces of rich red, did wonders for the old-fashioned room. Devon blithely commandeered Steve, Cal and Ryan to move the old brown-and-beige sofa and two massive chairs upstairs to one of the bedrooms.
When the deed was done everyone stood around, shaking their heads.
"Going to be interesting to see what Garth says," Bev finally declared.
"Looks great, Devon. Can't believe it's the same room," Ryan said. "Amazing what some new furniture can do for a place."
Cal looked dubious. "Sure is funny-lookin' furniture."
Steve sat down in one of the chairs. "Not too bad. You'd think it would be kind of uncomfortable from the looks of it, but it's not half-bad."
"The Italians are excellent furniture designers," Devon informed one and all. She was about to continue on the subject when she heard the pickup pull into the drive. Garth was home.
Everyone looked at everyone else.
"Got to go see about fixin' that gate," Steve announced and vanished.
"Guess I'll check on my pie," Bev said and disappeared.
"Garth wanted me to get that hay moved this afternoon," Cal remarked before melting out of sight.
Devon was left glaring at Ryan. "Well? Are you going to find something else to do, too?"
Ryan grinned. "You kidding? This, I want to see." He leaned back against the wall as Garth walked into the front room with h
is long, easy stride. Devon greeted him cheerfully and decided to take the bull by the horns.
"Guess what arrived today, Garth."
Garth started to respond to the question and then he saw what had happened to the room. His reaction was immediate and unambivalent.
"What the hell is this stuff doing in here?" he growled, shoving his hat back on his head and planting his big fists on his hips.
"I told you I had plans for it." Devon kept her tone calm and placid, but inside she was suddenly very nervous. She had never tested Garth's indulgence toward her quite this far. "Looks great, don't you think? Does wonders for this room."
"What happened to the couch?"
"It's upstairs in one of the bedrooms."
"So help me, Devon, I told you I didn't want this stuff in the living room. I was going to have it put into storage."
"I canceled the orders and had the movers put it in here, instead," she informed him equably. This wasn't going at all well, she realized. Perhaps she'd overstepped her bounds. This was still Garth's house, after all. She wasn't his wife yet. It was difficult to gauge just how angry he really was. Garth's mood had been very volatile all week.
"Devon, when I give an order around here, I expect it to be obeyed." He swung toward Ryan. "What do you think you're doing?"
Ryan held up a placating hand. "Just standing here, honest."
"Well, go stand somewhere else, damn it!"
"I'm gone," Ryan said and did a quick disappearing act through the door.
Garth turned back to Devon. His gaze held a wealth of seething intent. The master of Hawk's Flight was going to lay down the law. "All right, let's get this ironed out here and now. I told you I didn't want this silly furniture in the living room, didn't I?"
Devon lifted her chin. "Yes, you did, but I told you I did want it here. And if you'll just calm down and take a look, you'll have to admit it's terrific in here. Just what the place needed. This is going to be my living room, too, Garth, and I have a right to have some say in how it looks. You're reacting unreasonably. You're just mad because I didn't follow orders, not because you really think the furniture looks terrible."
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