Saxon's Lady

by Stephanie Janes

  It was Garth who startled everyone by responding to Ryan's comment. "Best news I've heard since we found out Royal Standard wasn't sterile," he announced easily as he sauntered into the kitchen. He appeared totally obli­vious to the wary looks he was receiving from Bev, Ryan, Steve and Cal. He nodded impartially, including all of them in the greeting. "'Morning, everyone. That coffee smells extra good today, Bev. I'll have about twenty of those pancakes."

  He sat down next to Devon, giving her an unhurried, satisfied, intimate smile. Then he reached out to ruffle her hair with an absent, possessive affection that made the others stare. "I'd sell the south pasture for a cup of that coffee this morning."

  Devon picked up the coffeepot and poured the rich brew into Garth's mug. "Good morning, Garth." She was aware of everyone else in the kitchen fumbling for low-voiced, cautious greetings. It was obvious they were all waiting for a continuation of last night's explosion—and equally obvious that the lack of it was confusing them.

  Steve and Cal had half risen as if to escape and now sank slowly back into their chairs to finish their coffee. Garth leaned back and began talking calmly about the day's work he'd planned. He was relaxed and matter-of-fact about it. Steve and Cal listened and nodded attentively. Occasion­ally they cast speculative glances in Devon's direction. She pretended not to notice.

  Bev set a large plate of pancakes down in front of Garth and looked mildly astonished when he thanked her warmly and dug into the food with gusto. Bev, too, gave Devon a curious look.

  Ryan was the last one to relax in Garth's presence. It was plain he'd braced himself for a full-scale catastrophe and wasn't sure how to handle the reprieve. Devon took pity on him, and when Ryan opened his mouth to say something, she silently shook her head. Ryan closed his mouth again and took a swallow of his coffee. Then he, too, flicked her a speculative glance.

  The lion dined with hearty pleasure, completely un­aware of the cautious watchfulness of the rest of those present. When he'd finished his pancakes, he took a final taste of coffee and suggested it was time to go to work.

  No one argued. Steve and Cal practically tripped over each other en route to the door. Ryan hastily gulped the rest of his coffee and jumped to his feet to follow the other men. Bev watched them all depart and then turned, hands on her hips, to survey Devon who sat alone at the table. The older woman grinned.

  "Well, well, well," Bev said with deep interest.

  Devon smiled breezily, pouring more coffee for herself. "Well what?"

  "Well, aren't you the lady with the magic touch." Bev dropped into a chair and reached for the coffeepot. "A real miracle worker. Haven't seen that man look that pleased with himself since I can't remember when. 'Bout time he started living a normal life, Man like him wasn't meant to go without a woman in his bed. Lucky for the rest of us the two of you decided to finally get together last night. Couldn't have happened at a better time. I don't even want to think about what kind of mood Garth would have been in this morning if you hadn't gone downstairs to the study last night."

  "Bev!" But Devon was torn between laughter and cha­grin. "He'd explode if he thought you knew what had happened last night. How did you know, anyway? I was as quiet as a mouse on those stairs."

  Bev's eyes twinkled. "I didn't hear you on the stairs. I took an educated guess about what must have happened based on the change in Garth's mood this morning. Only one thing on earth could have taken that snarling lion last night and turned him into a purring tomcat this morning. A woman's touch."

  Devon shook her head, her mouth curving wryly. "Do you think everyone else around here will come to the same brilliant conclusion?"

  "Yup. Doesn't take much in the way of brains to figure it out, I'm afraid. Does that worry you?"

  "No," Devon said honestly. "But I'm not sure what Garth will do if he thinks everyone on the place has fig­ured out what happened in the study last night."

  "Well, we'll just have to hope the men have sense enough to keep their mouths shut. 'Course that might be hard for 'em to do. They're all so danged relieved. Every­one on the place was expecting Garth to be a walking mine field today. I don't need to tell you that by now most folks within fifty miles have probably heard about what hap­pened at the Dennisons' barbecue last night."

  "No," Devon agreed, "you don't need to tell me. News travels fast around here, doesn't it?"

  "That it does." Bev sipped her coffee with satisfaction. "You want to go over the menu for the reception this morning?"

  Devon nodded. "Definitely. I want to make all the fi­nal decisions on it today." She glanced at the clock. "Af­ter that I think I'll get the camera out and take a few shots. I'm putting together some ideas for a brochure on Hawk's Flight."

  Devon didn't get outside with her camera until nearly eleven o'clock. She stepped off the back porch and scanned the peaceful scene in front of her as the dogs greeted her with wagging tails and lolling tongues. Even they seemed relieved there hadn't been another explosion this morning, she thought in amusement. Devon reached down to scratch a few ears. The new barn was more than half completed, she noticed.

  She was trying to decide whether to take a few shots of the mares with their foals or to concentrate on one of the stallions when she caught sight of Garth striding out of the old barn. She waved and started toward him.

  He halted, leaning against a paddock rail, one booted foot braced on the bottom rung, and watched her ap­proach with gleaming interest in his eyes.

  Devon smiled as she took in the sight of him. Garth was wearing jeans that emphasized his lean, strong body. The leather belt around his waist was as scarred and worn as his boots. His shirt was already slightly damp with sweat. It would get far more damp before the day was over. Garth worked harder than any of his men. He had his hat pulled down low over his eyes, shielding himself from the warm, bright morning sunlight. Very much the cowboy, she told herself, and her smile widened. Memories of the previous night flickered through her head. This man was her lover and soon he would be her husband. It made her pulse quicken just to look at him. He never took his eyes off her as she walked up to stand in front of him.

  "What are you staring at, cowboy?" she demanded huskily.

  Garth used his fist to shove his hat back on his head. He regarded her with a lazy, possessive arrogance that came, Devon knew, from the bone.

  "What am I staring at?" he repeated. "Nothing special. Just checkin' over my property."

  "Beast!" Devon poked him in the ribs and then hur­riedly stepped back out of reach.

  "Ouch!" Garth clutched his ribs as though he'd been shot. "What was that all about? You asked a simple ques­tion and I gave you a simple answer."

  "Hah. You deserved that and you know it. I saw the way you were looking at me."

  "Yeah?" He appeared interested. "How was I looking at you?"

  "You know exactly how you were looking."

  Steve came out of the barn with Ryan at that moment. They took one glance at Garth and Devon and tried to hide their grins. Garth looked at them with a faint frown as they walked toward the new barn. Then he turned back to Devon.

  "You ever had the feeling there's a joke going around and everyone else knows the punch line except you?" Garth asked bluntly.

  "Uh, yes, occasionally." Ruefully Devon realized the men hadn't been doing a good job of keeping their relief and amusement to themselves.

  "That's the way I've been feeling all morning. If some of these fools don't stop grinning behind my back I'm going to drop them into the irrigation canal. What's so damn funny?"

  Devon caught more speculative, amused glances from a knot of men who were working on the new barn. She drew a deep breath, wondering how to be diplomatic about this. "I don't think anyone's exactly laughing at you, Garth. They wouldn't dare. They're just relieved."

  '' Relieved about what, for pete's sake? "

  "That you're in a good mood this morning. I think that after last night, they expected you to be chewing nails to­day."

&n
bsp; "So?" he prodded, this time with a hint of aggression. "They ought to be thanking their lucky stars I've decided to let the whole matter drop. I don't see anything humor­ous about the situation."

  Devon cleared her throat. "Yes, well, it's a little hard to explain, Garth. But I think they've all decided they know why you're so good-natured today."

  "Why?" he repeated ominously.

  "Now, Garth, be reasonable. They're men. You know how men are. You're one, yourself, remember? I think they all assume that you and I... that is, that we might have, uh... well that we did what we did, and that's why you're feeling so much calmer and more cheerful today."

  There was a second or two of stunned shock from Garth as the light dawned, and then every vestige of his earlier teasing, easygoing mood vanished as if it had never ex­isted. "I'll flatten each and every one of them."

  "Garth! Wait!" Anxiously Devon grabbed his arm as he started to turn toward the nearest victims. The men were standing out of earshot and didn't yet know the lion was again on the prowl.

  Garth gave Devon a savage glance. "I won't have them talking about you."

  "Garth," Devon said soothingly, "we're going to be married. There's no harm done. Unless, of course, you're thinking of abandoning me at the last moment? That might be a little hard to live down, but otherwise, I don't think there's really a problem. Why are you so concerned if someone thinks we might have slept together?"

  "Damn it, Devon, I'm concerned for your sake," he said through his teeth. "I remember how careful you were all those years you were raising Lee and Kurt. You had practically no social life at all because you were so afraid someone would gossip. I'm not going to let them start talking about you now."

  She saw the overwhelming protectiveness in his eyes and wanted to throw herself into his arms. "You mean you're not embarrassed about someone thinking we might have gone to bed together?"

  "Hell, no! Why should I be embarrassed? Personally, I don't care if the whole damn valley knows. If it was up to me I'd put an announcement on the local radio station. But I know how you always felt about gossip and I won't let you be embarrassed. I'll slaughter any man who opens his mouth about you today, I swear it."

  Devon shook her head, her eyes bright with moisture. She stepped close to Garth and wrapped her arms fiercely around his waist. "I don't care if everyone knows, Garth."

  "But, Devon, you were always so cautious." Automat­ically he put his arms around her.

  "Only because I didn't want Kurt and Lee to be hurt in any way. I didn't want to put them in a position where they felt they had to defend me and I didn't want them humil­iated. I had a responsibility to them."

  There was silence from Garth for a long moment. He just stood there holding her to him and then he finally said quietly, "I see."

  Devon relaxed. She smiled teasingly into his shirt. "I'm glad you're not too embarrassed about everyone thinking we were together last night. After we're married and shar­ing the same bedroom it might be a lot tougher to keep everyone from guessing that we occasionally make love. It'll be a great relief not to have to pretend we're above that sort of thing."

  Garth gave her a slight shake and then he was laughing into her hair. The deep, vibrant sound made Devon real­ize how seldom she heard him laugh. She would have to see to it that the event happened more often.

  "This is the thanks I get for trying to protect your rep­utation?" Garth demanded.

  "I'm not worried about my reputation as long as the worst thing anyone thinks is that I'm sleeping with you," Devon assured him with a laughing grin. "To be perfectly honest, I'm rather proud of the fact."

  "Shameless hussy." He tilled her chin and kissed her soundly, ignoring the fact that Ryan and a handful of construction workers were witnessing the whole thing. When he finally lifted his head, Garth's eyes were bril­liant. "You'd better get back to the house before we really give these jokers something to talk about." He gave her a pat on the behind and sent her on her way.

  Devon obediently moved off, listening as Garth barked a few orders to the men who had been watching the small scene. His voice was crisp with authority, but there was no anger in it. In fact, Devon decided, Garth sounded quite pleased with himself. She thought about the fact that he'd been trying so hard to protect her reputation, and her love for him warmed her from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Garth was a man who would always take care of his wife and family. He would do whatever he had to do in order to protect them.

  But, then, she'd known that all along, Devon reminded herself as she opened the screen door and stepped into the kitchen. Garth understood commitment as well as she did.

  The sound of Rita Dennison's car in the drive that af­ternoon came as a pleasant surprise to Devon, who was still mulling over the wedding reception menu. She jumped to her feet and went out onto the front porch to welcome her visitor.

  "Rita, come on inside and have some iced tea. Bev and I are still arguing about whether we have to serve roast beef at the reception. I claim the locals can get by for one meal without beef, but Bev doesn't agree."

  Rita laughed. "I'm afraid Bev's right. Better have at least a token chunk of beef on the buffet table or every­one will starve." She preceded Devon into the house. "I came by to see what the fallout was from last night.

  Everything okay? I felt absolutely terrible about the whole thing."

  "You shouldn't be feeling terrible; it was Ordway who started the trouble and Garth who finished it. As far as I can tell, you, as hostess, should be in the clear. Sit down."

  "Hostesses are never in the clear." Rita nodded at Bev as she took a seat at the kitchen table. "If nothing else, though, I can rest assured that no one will claim they didn't have a good time last night. Nothing like a little fist fight to entertain the guests."

  Bev chuckled as she poured iced tea. "You can say that again. Quite an entertaining evening all around from what I hear."

  Rita grimaced. "I'll have to admit that Garth didn't look too thrilled with the whole event. He was absolutely furious, wasn't he? Has he calmed down this morning?"

  "He's a different man this morning," Bev assured her with a grin. "Devon soothed all the ruffled feathers last night."

  Rita laughed with womanly understanding. "Practic­ing to be a wife already, Devon? Believe me, after you're married, you'll find yourself spending a heck of a lot of time soothing the savage beast in the old, traditional way. Men are very primitive in a lot of respects. Honestly, they can be so difficult. I don't know why any woman in her right mind gets married. We'd all be a heck of a lot smarter to have a few wild, glorious affairs and forget about trying to actually domesticate the monsters."

  Devon grinned. "Your words of wisdom come too late to do me any good."

  "Isn't that the truth," Bev acknowledged. "Garth wouldn't let Devon out of this marriage now if she of­fered to buy her way out with a stallion as welt pedigreed as High Flyer or Royal Standard."

  "That's what I've heard," Rita said. She looked at Devon with mock sympathy. "I'm afraid you're trapped, Devon. Everyone says Garth waited a whole year for you and he's not about to let you go now."

  Out on the back porch Garth stopped short, listening to the laughter of the three women. A sudden, chilled feeling took hold of his insides. Rita's words hammered in his head. I'm afraid you're trapped, Devon.

  For the first time Garth silently asked the one question he had never allowed himself to ask before. Why are you marrying me, Devon? Memories of the previous evening flared in his head. The rush of fury and adrenaline when he'd found Devon struggling in Ordway's arms, the need to smash Ordway's face, the equally fierce need to claim Devon later.

  He'd tried to drown that last need with whiskey but it hadn't worked. The moment Devon had opened the study door last night, Garth had known he had to have her. It had been blazingly clear to him that the only way to slake the volatile combination of anger and possessiveness and need that had burned in his veins was to lose himself in Devon's arms.
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br />   He'd been right. Afterward the world had settled back down into its proper orbit. The battle was over and he'd reclaimed his woman. She was safe again and so was he.

  This morning he'd been feeling so damned good he hadn't even bothered to deliver the lecture he'd planned to give Ryan. Hell, it hardly seemed worth the effort. There was no doubt but that his half brother was feeling guilty enough as it was. Ryan had learned his lesson. There would be no more talk of going into partnership with Phil Ord­way.

  Garth's hands closed into fists. Consciously he forced himself to relax. He knew why he was marrying Devon. He had to. His world would be a dull, colorless place without her. Physically he was more attracted to her than he'd ever been to any other woman. Emotionally he felt complete around her. And he trusted her.

  But why was she marrying him?

  Garth stepped silently off the porch, heading back to­ward High Flyer's paddock. He'd been so certain of the rightness of this marriage, so sure that Devon belonged here with him. He'd overridden all her doubts and ex­tracted a promise from her because he'd been secure in his own belief that she would be happy married to him.

  I'm afraid you're trapped, Devon.

  She had looked so at home in the city. The day he'd found her in that damn singles bar, Garth had been star­tled to see how well she blended in with her new sur­roundings. She hadn't been pining away in San Francisco, that was for certain. She'd found a niche for herself, and if she hadn't been caught by her promise to him, she would undoubtedly have found a man for herself, also.

  That last thought made Garth set his teeth. He stopped in front of High Flyer's paddock and stood staring at the dappled gray stallion. The animal was calmly munching hay, arrogant and secure in his natural power and status.

  Garth knew he wasn't nearly as handsome as High Flyer, but he was beginning to wonder if he didn't have some of the stallion's arrogance. The thought made him grimace.

  Devon could have been happy in the city. She could have found herself a man with a Porsche and a yacht and a country-club membership. She could have made a career out of photography.