'No. I didn't get a chance to tell her—'
'Tell her.' Now Devin grinned. 'Typical.'
'You might try to see my side of it,' Jared grumbled. 'I realized that's what I want. I was thinking about it, going over it, and then I see she's gotten the effects from her father. She hadn't told me it had come. There was a photograph of her with Bryan's father.'
'Hmm...' Rafe's comment went for all of them.
'When I asked her about it, she got defensive.'
'Hostile witness,' Shane murmured, and earned a glare.
'She tossed it out,' Jared continued. 'Like it meant nothing.'
'Maybe that's just what it meant,' Devin put in.
'Look, the bastard got her pregnant, then abandoned her. Her father kicks her out. She's sixteen, for God's sake. It means something. But she won't come out with it. She won't tell me. What she does is start . accusing me of idiotic things. Then she says, get this, she says that I figure it was all right for me to sow wild oats or whatever, to get in trouble and kick some butt. But I expect her to be untouched or a victim, or words to that effect. It's insulting.'
Rafe regarded the lip of his beer bottle. 'It's true.'
'The hell it is.'
'Sorry, bro. You pass the bar, buy yourself a couple lawyer suits—'
'Do you want me to break your nose again?'
'In a minute. Anyway, after a while you decide it's time to get married, so you pick out an ice queen, one with no baggage, no secrets, no noticeable flaws. You know why?'
Temper percolating, Jared eyed him. 'Why don't you tell me?'
'Because the image worked for you. It didn't take you long to realize the woman didn't, because you're pretty sharp most of the time. Now, Savannah, there's a woman with baggage, some secrets, a few flaws. The image is a little hard to tuck into a box, but the woman works.'
He wanted to argue, to debate, to tear the hypothesis to shreds. And discovered he couldn't. So he swore instead.
'Kafka,' he muttered as a light dawned. 'Barbara read Kafka.'
'Doesn't surprise me,' Rafe said cheerfully.
Trying it all from a new angle, Jared took out a cigar. 'The argument is still valid that if two people want to build a future together, they have to trust each other enough to share the past. I want the boy, too,' he said, blowing out a stream of smoke.
'Are you going to let a photograph stop you?' Devin asked quietly.
'No. I'm not going to let anything stop me.'
'Two down,' Shane complained. 'You know, women start getting ideas when your brothers get married.'
'Live with it,' Jared told him.
All of them glanced over at the sound of a car coming up the lane, fast.
So she'd come to her senses, he decided, proud of the fact that he'd given her the night to think it over. Now she was here, sorry she'd lost her temper, he imagined. Ready to sit down and discuss it all reasonably.
He rose, moved over to lean on the post opposite Devin. He'd be big enough to apologize, as well, he thought. And to explain himself more coherently. He was sure that years from now they'd laugh over the whole foolish mess.
He lifted the cigar to his lips, ready to welcome her, when she squealed to a halt at the end of the lane.
The woman who unfolded herself from the car didn't look conciliatory. She looked wild, glowing and stunning.
'Oh-oh' was all Shane said, but he rolled his eyes merrily at Rafe.
She didn't speak, but stood with her hands on her hips, scanning the four men. An audience, she thought. Even better. Didn't they all look smug and pleased with themselves just for being men?
She swaggered around to the trunk, unlocked it. The box came first. The dogs jumped and circled around her in excited greeting as she carried it to the side of the car. With a wide smile she overturned it. Several articles of clothing tumbled out. Suits, ties, shirts, socks. Still smiling, she gave the heap a couple of good solid kicks to spread things out.
Delighted, the dogs trampled over the clothes, sniffing and barking. Fred proved his recognition of Jared's scent by lifting his leg.
On the porch, four men watched in silence, with varying degrees of emotion.
Ah, Jared's favorite tie was snagged on her foot, she discovered. Eyes on his, she ground her heel into it.
Rafe grinned like a loon. Shane let out one full belly laugh. Devin watched in rapt admiration.
Jared just watched.
She wasn't finished. Not by a long shot. Back to the trunk she pulled out a leather-bound address book he'd left on the nightstand. Her smile cool, she held it open as if to demonstrate. Then tore the pages out and let them flutter onto the heap of the now dirty, dog-haired clothes.
She took out his shoes. The good Italian leather first. Holding them down for Ethel to sniff, Savannah let the first one fly, then the second, and the dogs gave grateful chase. Tennis shoes went next. Two pairs, one of which, she was delighted to note, was only two weeks old.
She hoped the dogs chewed them to shreds.
There was shaving gear to deal with. She pitched a piece here, a piece there, drawing out the event until Shane simply rolled out of his chair onto the deck of the porch, helpless with laughter.
But she'd saved the coup de grace. The wine.
There had only been one bottle open, but she'd tossed that before she left. She uncorked all three, all fine vintages, expensively French. Chin up, eyes challenging, she walked back to what was left of his clothes. She tilted her head first, darkly pleased when his eyes went to green slits. With a veteran waitress's skill, Savannah poured them out, all at once over his best suit.
Done, she let the bottles fall with a clink on the grass. Still without having uttered a word, she strolled back to the car, slid behind the wheel. With a final smile, an arrogant salute, she backed up, swung around and drove down the lane.
Other than Shane's helpless laughter, there wasn't a sound until Devin finally cleared his throat. He studied the mess on the lawn carefully, even patted Fred's head when the dog devotedly brought him one of Jared's mauled shoes.
'Well,' he said at length. 'I'd say she made her point, too.'
'She's a spooky woman,' Shane managed, mopping his streaming eyes. 'I think I'm in love with her.'
Because he knew what it was like to be at the mercy of his own heart, Rafe rose and slapped a hand on Jared's shoulder. 'You know, Jare, you got two choices.'
He was all but quivering with fury. 'Which are?'
'Run like hell, or go get her. I know which one I'd choose.'
Jared didn't do anything for a couple of hours. He knew himself well enough to understand that his temper could be dangerous. He worked off some steam, and worked up a sweat in the barn before washing up.
When he finally headed out, his anger was still there, but strapped in. She figured she was dumping him, he thought, like she'd dumped his things.
But she was going to figure again.
'Hey, Jare.' From the side yard where he was playing tug-of-war with the dogs over one of Jared's shoes, Shane sent up a shout. 'Tell Savannah we really enjoyed the show, okay?'
'Remind me to kick your butt later.'
She'd humiliated him, he fumed. In front of his brothers. Seeking control, he jammed his hands into his pockets and veered toward the woods. Not to mention that she'd ruined a good portion of his wardrobe.
Thought she was damn clever, he was sure. He imagined she'd sat up half the night planning it all out. If he hadn't been the brunt of it, he'd have admired her finesse. The sheer nerve of it.
But he had been the one who took the brunt of it.
The woods closed around him, but he didn't experience the usual sense of peace and companionship. His mind was on the other side of them, on Savannah. And, he thought with relish, on revenge. Let's see how she liked it
