Sweetbriar Read online

  “And Jessie Tucker?” she asked. “And Lonnie?”

  “Jessie and Lonnie are growin’ faster’n their mas can keep ’em in clothes. You wouldn’t hardly know ’em now. And Esther’s baby, Lincoln, the one you helped birth, is walkin’ and startin’ to talk and he runs the whole household of all them women. The twins still look just alike, all four of ’em.”

  “You never thought so. You could always tell them apart.”

  He smiled at her, silent a moment and she looked away. It was as if the air between them was charged with thin, brilliant bolts of lightning. At least it felt that way to Linnet.

  “And how is your wife?” she asked quietly, hoping to douse the lightning.

  “Wife?” he asked incredulously. “What would I be doin’ with a wife? I made it this far without gettin’ a ball and chain, so I figure I can make it the rest of the way.”

  She was stunned. “But your child…What of the baby?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He leaned back against a tree trunk and pulled his knife from its sheath and began to carve on a pine knot.

  Linnet sat down heavily on a rotten tree that had fallen across the forest floor. “But what about Corinne?” she continued.

  He looked up at her briefly. “Last woman I’d marry would be Corinne. I don’t take Cord’s leavin’s.” He gave her a swift, angry look before returning to the pine knot. “Corinne got married all right and had herself a young’un right after the weddin’, but that was all Jonathan Tucker’s doin’. What made you think I was gonna marry Corinne?”

  She braced herself and answered truthfully. “She told me she was going to have your child.”

  After a quick, hard look, Devon laughed, the cords in his powerful neck standing out. “Corinne always was a liar. Ever’body knew that. It wasn’t me she wanted but my store. She tried ever’thin’ to get me to—” He stopped and looked at Linnet until her face warmed with embarrassment. “Well, let’s just say it wasn’t possible that she could be carryin’ my baby.”

  Linnet only blinked at him and wondered if he wasn’t the liar.

  He seemed to read her thoughts and looked away. “I ain’t sayin’ I didn’t fool around with her some, but then a lot of men did. I wouldn’t wanta be in Jonathan’s shoes. But who knows, maybe he’ll straighten her out.”

  “Yes, maybe,” Linnet said. She was digesting this information. If only it weren’t too late! But even if Corinne lied, it was Devon who left her alone after he’d made love to her in the forest.

  “Now tell me about you. We been talkin’ too much about me.”

  “No, we haven’t. You haven’t said a word about you.” She took a deep breath. “You look tired and you’ve lost weight.”

  He gazed at her steadily. “I been eatin’ Gaylon’s cookin’—or my own, which is worse. It’s a wonder I have any skin left.”

  She suddenly wanted him to go away, to kick him, bite him, kiss him, touch him—No! she must not think that way. She must be as calm as he. “I baked bread yesterday. Would you like to eat some of it?”

  He grinned and she felt her heart pound again. “I would love to eat some of your cookin’.” He rose and stood before her but she wouldn’t look at him, couldn’t, not when he was so close.

  She moved away from him, and they walked together to the edge of the woods. The first thing Linnet saw was Nettie holding Miranda by the hand. Linnet was astonished and then appalled at herself. She had completely forgotten her daughter. She had no time for explanations, but threw an, “Excuse me,” over her shoulder, lifted her skirts and ran to Nettie.

  She was out of breath and gasping when she grabbed Nettie’s arm. “If you’re my friend, if I’ve ever done anything for you, please do this for me now. Do not tell him Miranda is my daughter.”

  Nettie looked over Linnet’s shoulder to see exactly who “him” was. She saw a tall, slim, handsome man, with dark hair and…Miranda’s eyes. It didn’t take much intelligence to know who he was.

  Devon came to stand beside the two women.

  “Nettie, this is Devon Macalister. Everyone calls him Mac.”

  Devon lifted one eyebrow at Linnet. So, she didn’t want other people to call him Devon. It was still her personal name for him.

  “And this is Nettie Waters.”

  Devon inclined his head slightly to the woman.

  Nettie bent and lifted Miranda high. “And this is Miranda.” Nettie was very aware of Linnet’s sharp intake of breath, but ignored her as she thrust the baby into Devon’s arms. “Would you like to hold her?”

  Devon was surprised. He liked children, but always managed to stay away from the little ones. They seemed to instantly become wet or very noisy. He looked with detached interest at the child in his arms. “Pretty little girl,” he said as he handed her back to Nettie. “Nice eyes.” He didn’t know why she seemed to think that was such a funny remark.

  Linnet began talking rapidly, after giving Nettie a fierce look. “I used to know Devon when I lived in Sweetbriar.”

  “I didn’t know you lived in Sweetbriar. I thought you came here from Boston.”

  “I did, I…” Linnet felt confused. Seeing Devon holding Miranda made her lose what little composure she had. “I’m going to cook some supper for Devon now. I’ll see you later.”

  Devon sat at the pine table in the little cabin. It was bigger than the one she had in Sweetbriar but basically the same, except for a high porch in front. “You still haven’t told me about your life here. You’re the schoolteacher?” he asked with his mouth full.

  How could he sit there so calmly? How could he hold his daughter and not know who she was? Nice eyes indeed! They were identical to his, the vain, infuriating man! “It’s all right here. The people are different from those in Sweetbriar.”

  “I met a man, Butch Gather, down at the store—” He stopped and went to the fireplace to look at the carvings.

  “You kept them?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes, I kept them.” She could feel her anger rising. What right did he have to come back into her life? She had adjusted to a world without him. There were whole hours when she didn’t even think of him, so what right did he have to come back? “Why are you here?” she demanded.

  He sat down again at the table and resumed eating.

  “I asked you why you are here and I want an answer!”

  He put the chunk of bread down calmly. “I was passin’ through and when I heard an old friend was here I thought I’d stop and say hello.”

  “Old friend,” she said, quietly, deadly. “You can sit there just like it was the same, just as if we were in Sweetbriar and I was giving you a reading lesson?” Her voice began to rise, becoming shriller. “You can talk to me calmly after all that has gone on between us? After that night we—?” She felt tears forming. “Well, I can’t!” she shouted. “I left Sweetbriar because I never wanted to see you again, and I still don’t. I want you to leave, to go away from here and never come back. Do you understand me?” She was shouting as loudly as she possibly could, and tears blocked her vision. She ran out the open cabin door and into the woods.

  Devon sat quietly at the table, watching her run. She still runs just as slow and clumsy as ever, he thought, then turned back to the food and grinned. It seemed to him that it was the first time in two years he really felt like eating. Too often he had pushed his food away and reached for a jug of whiskey. Right now he had no desire for drink.

  So, she did remember him! Spreading the bread with an inch-thick layer of fresh butter, he bit it, then studied the marks his teeth had made in the creamy substance. She thought he’d forgotten that night they spent together. That one night with her had ruined all women for him for the last two years. He’d been to bed with other women but not one of them had made love to him in return, not one of them had—

  He smiled and ate another bite of the bread. If she still remembered him so clearly, maybe they could have a little fun before he went back to Sweetbriar and