be able to find any other logical points to use in the argument, so she did what most people and horses did around Garth Saxon. She yielded to the inevitable.
Four
If it had been anyone other than Garth Saxon organizing the packing of her possessions, Devon knew she would have been amazed and astounded. But she was familiar with the quiet, calm, deliberate manner in which Garth worked, and it was really no surprise when he announced they were ready to leave shortly after noon the following day.
"That's it, then," Garth said as he loaded the last box into the pickup. "Your landlady has the key and she'll let the movers in tomorrow. They'll handle the books, kitchen stuff and that damn silly furniture. We've got everything else. Let's get going. With any luck we'll be home in time for dinner.''
Devon thought of the large roast, the overcooked vegetables and the heavy pie that would probably be waiting. "Is Beverly Middleton still your housekeeper?"
"Sure." Garth cinched down the load in the back of the pickup. "She was working for the previous owners when I bought Hawk's Flight. Knows the place from one end to the other. Why would I change housekeepers?"
"Why indeed," Devon murmured as she walked back up the stairs to take one last look around the neat little flat that had been her home for a year. Bev Middleton had cooked and cleaned for the elderly couple who had owned the stud farm before Garth bought it. She was a good-hearted, friendly woman, but short on imagination, especially when it came to food. Garth had been quite content to have her stay on and manage his house for him. Her style suited him perfectly. Garth saw no reason to change things that already seemed to work. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," was one of his mottoes.
Feeling strangely ambivalent Devon walked through her apartment, checking drawers and opening closet doors. Garth stood in the doorway and watched, his expression remote and unreadable.
"It's time to go, Devon," he said quietly.
"I know." She stood at the graceful bay window, her fingers stuffed into the back pockets of her designer jeans. "It's such a pretty little apartment, Garth. I've been so comfortable here. It was the first place that was all mine ."
He hesitated and then moved to stand behind her. "You won't miss it when you've been back in Hawk Springs for a while." He put his hands on her shoulders and dropped a small kiss into her hair.
Devon felt the gruff gentleness in him and knew that Garth wasn't insensitive to her feelings at that moment. In his own way he was trying to reassure her that she was making the right decision. After all, she told herself ruefully, it was his decision and his decisions were almost always right.
That thought amused her and the uncertainty she had been feeling vanished. The truth was, going back to Hawk Springs was her decision, too. She had made it a year ago, and last night it had been reinforced when she had finally acknowledged the reality of her love for Garth. She turned around with a decisive movement.
"We'd better get going if we're to be in Hawk Springs in time for dinner."
"Yes," he agreed, studying her assessingly , "we'd better move."
Garth watched her stride across the white carpet and something inside him tightened. With her new, deceptively casual hairstyle, expensive jeans, blouse with padded shoulders and tiny, strappy leather sandals she looked very trendy. She had adapted well to her new life-style. It worried him that she'd been able to do it so easily.
He had been so sure that she would miss Hawk Springs within a few weeks or months. He knew he'd hoped that she would decide she'd make a mistake and come rushing back to familiar territory, back to his waiting arms. Instead, she'd settled right into a life-style that should have been totally alien to her. The two and a half years she'd spent in Los Angeles while in college had probably prepared her to make the transition to the city again last year.
Four
If it had been anyone other than Garth Saxon organizing the packing of her possessions, Devon knew she would have been amazed and astounded. But she was familiar with the quiet, calm, deliberate manner in which Garth worked, and it was really no surprise when he announced they were ready to leave shortly after noon the following day.
"That's it, then," Garth said as he loaded the last box into the pickup. "Your landlady has the key and she'll let the movers in tomorrow. They'll handle the books, kitchen stuff and that damn silly furniture. We've got everything else. Let's get going. With any luck we'll be home in time for dinner.''
Devon thought of the large roast, the overcooked vegetables and the heavy pie that would probably be waiting. "Is Beverly Middleton still your housekeeper?"
"Sure." Garth cinched down the load in the back of the pickup. "She was working for the previous owners when I bought Hawk's Flight. Knows the place from one end to the other. Why would I change housekeepers?"
"Why indeed," Devon murmured as she walked back up the stairs to take one last look around the neat little flat that had been her home for a year. Bev Middleton had cooked and cleaned for the elderly couple who had owned the stud farm before Garth bought it. She was a good-hearted, friendly woman, but short on imagination, especially when it came to food. Garth had been quite content to have her stay on and manage his house for him. Her style suited him perfectly. Garth saw no reason to change things that already seemed to work. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," was one of his mottoes.
Feeling strangely ambivalent Devon walked through her apartment, checking drawers and opening closet doors. Garth stood in the doorway and watched, his expression remote and unreadable.
"It's time to go, Devon," he said quietly.
"I know." She stood at the graceful bay window, her fingers stuffed into the back pockets of her designer jeans. "It's such a pretty little apartment, Garth. I've been so comfortable here. It was the first place that was all mine ."
He hesitated and then moved to stand behind her. "You won't miss it when you've been back in Hawk Springs for a while." He put his hands on her shoulders and dropped a small kiss into her hair.
Devon felt the gruff gentleness in him and knew that Garth wasn't insensitive to her feelings at that moment. In his own way he was trying to reassure her that she was making the right decision. After all, she told herself ruefully, it was his decision and his decisions were almost always right.
That thought amused her and the uncertainty she had been feeling vanished. The truth was, going back to Hawk Springs was her decision, too. She had made it a year ago, and last night it had been reinforced when she had finally acknowledged the reality of her love for Garth. She turned around with a decisive movement.
"We'd better get going if we're to be in Hawk Springs in time for dinner."
"Yes," he agreed, studying her assessingly , "we'd better move."
Garth watched her stride across the white carpet and something inside him tightened. With her new, deceptively casual hairstyle, expensive jeans, blouse with padded shoulders and tiny, strappy leather sandals she looked very trendy. She had adapted well to her new life-style. It worried him that she'd been able to do it so easily.
He had been so sure that she would miss Hawk Springs within a few weeks or months. He knew he'd hoped that she would decide she'd make a mistake and come rushing back to familiar territory, back to his waiting arms. Instead, she'd settled right into a life-style that should have been totally alien to her. The two and a half years she'd spent in Los Angeles while in college had probably prepared her to make the transition to the city again last year.
Similar Books
