Authors: Veronica Sattler
"There's double method to my not-so-madness in
freeing you of Adam's care, Lula. I believe there's an impatient person downstairs who waits to see you."
"Oh!" exclaimed Lula, glancing in the mirror. "Right now? Oh, Lord! And look what ah look like! Uh—thank you, sir. Will you excuse me, please?" And she ran out of the room mumbling words about male disrespect for a woman's need for "some warning."
Laughing, Garrett called after her, "And Lula, please send Jasper up to fix a bath for me, would you?" Then turning to Christie, who was busy smiling and cooing back at their son, he added, "I feel as if I've more of Riverlea's dust on me than on the nearest acre."
"And I was just thinking how wonderfully fresh and outdoorsy you smell—
there!
He
is!
He's
smiling
at us! Oh, Garrett, look! His first smile, and he saved it for both of us to see!"
Garrett bent his gaze on Adam, who, sure enough, was smiling cheerfully up at both of them as he rested happily in his father's great arms. "Well, lad,"— Garrett grinned—"with a smile like that, you're sure to melt a bevy of female hearts just as certainly as your mother's smile has always melted mine!"
"Always?" asked Christie softly, her eyes wide and adoring as she looked up at him.
"Always," replied Garrett as he ushered her toward the bed. "Even when we were fighting the battle royal, and I was tempted to throttle you. In fact, madam," he added, kissing the tip of her nose as they sat on the edge of the bed, "if it hadn't been for this beguiling smile of yours, I might have taken a full day or two longer to fall in love with you."
He set the baby down on the bed behind them, and they both turned to enjoy the energetic kicking and babbling which now took place there. Christie looked at Garrett whose finger was being firmly clutched by their son's tiny fist, but whose eyes were gazing fondly at her. "You make love to me every moment you're with me," she said softly as she reached out to touch his lips with her fingers. "With the words you speak, with your eyes when you look at me, as well as with your body's touch. Oh, Garrett, sometimes I think I love you so much, I'll explode from the way I feel!"
Gently, tenderly, Garrett leaned forward and kissed the warm lips which seemed to beg for the touch of his. "And so it is with me, love," he breathed. "And so it is with me."
Suddenly their tender reverie was broken by a knocking at the outer door and Jasper's cheerful voice. "Ah have your bath ready to set up, Captain Garrett!"
"More about making each other explode, later." Garrett smiled as he touched a fingertip to Christie's nose. "Come on in!" he called to Jasper.
While Garrett made ready to take his bath, Christie returned Adam to the nursery and put him to sleep there. When she returned, she found her husband relaxing lazily in the large brass tub, chest-deep in steaming water.
"Garrett! You'll cook in water that hot! It's warm enough in here already," warned Christie as she came to stand near him. But her eyes, as they rested on the dark head of her husband, were soft and loving.
"With the amount of mounting and dismounting
we did this day, I need something to keep these muscles from going stiff," replied Garrett. "Damn, if tracking isn't tedious work!"
Reminded now of what had taken him away all day, Christie questioned, "Did you find anything for your pains?" Again she felt the need to touch him and took her hand and ran it lightly over the raven curls on his head.
"Nothing conclusive, I'm afraid. Just tracks of a single rider leading to a stream that's fed by the same water that feeds the swimming pond; and those almost obscured—deliberately obscured, by the way.''
"Obscured how?" queried Christie. She picked up the sponge which lay on a nearby stool and began to lather it with Garrett's mildly scented, woodsy-smelling soap.
"In the Indian manner, of dragging a heavily leafed branch in one's wake as one rides," replied Garrett. "Make no mistake about it. Whoever fired on us intended not to be followed or discovered and knew enough of woodsmanship to hide his tracks well. It took Laughing Bear's experience to discover the few tracks we did find. He knew enough to look most carefully near the riverbank, where the softness of the clay wouldn't lend itself to brush erasing. There the tracks disappeared into the stream, and although we followed it for several miles in each direction, we were unable to locate the spot where our gunman emerged. —Ah, that feels good, love. Give it a good scrubbing, will you? I'd have gone shirtless and perspired less, but the mosquitoes were fierce along the stream."
Christie rubbed the sponge vigorously across her
husband's muscular brown back, enjoying the sight of the rugged, rippling strength displayed there. Momentarily she stopped, unable to resist running her fingers across the broad expanse of sun-tanned skin.
Garrett chuckled lightly. "I remember a time you were scared to death of scrubbing my back—called me cruel for requiring it." He was looking up at her, his eyes penetrating and warm.
Kneeling down beside the tub, Christie gave him a slightly remonstrative look. "And so I felt it was. I— had never seen a man's naked back before I saw yours. ... In truth, yours is the only one I've ever seen." Then in a lower, shyer voice, "Are they all so beautifully hard and muscular and—and—?" She stopped, suddenly giddy from the way he was looking at her, his green gaze intense.
"I wouldn't know," answered Garrett, "since I don't make a practice of studying other men's backs. But if you were to ask me about women's backs"—he grinned—"I should tell you there's none to compare with this one." And without realizing he had been working at it, Christie felt him remove the thin cotton blouse she had been wearing, letting it slip quietly to the floor.
Mesmerized, Christie felt his strong, wet hands slide expertly over her back. Then he drew her to him, his kiss suddenly passionate, demanding. Instant flames leaped through her body, her arms as they wrapped about his neck feeling as if they had just been shot through with a fiery liquid, hotter than the water in which he sat. In seconds she forget where they were, knowing only the warm, wonderful
sensation of Garrett's lips on hers, asking, taking what she couldn't give fast enough. Suddenly, she was in his lap in the steaming water, breeches and all, and this seemed as natural as any seat she'd ever taken. Now Garrett kissed her face as he held it between damp hands, her eyes, her cheeks, her temples, the corners of her mouth, her chin, and again, her honeyed lips; and with every kiss, Christie breathed his name and her love for him in low, ecstatic tones. Moving his hands downward, he savored the silken feel of her satiny skin made slippery now by the water. Her breasts seemed to him like liquid velvet, crested in their excitement with diamond-hard peaks; and for several minutes he caressed and teased, nibbled and stroked, his words laced with the love he bore her—
"Christielove, first love, only love—ah, little one, it's always like this for me, aching with wanting you, loving you—oh, Christie—"
Just then, a loud knocking sounded at the outer door, and Jesse's baritone interrupted the hushed tones of the lovers. "Garrett, Christie, are you decent? This may be important!"
With a groan, Garrett closed his eyes and pushed Christie gently from him. Swearing softly, he took a breath and then managed a tone he hoped was steady enough to answer his brother.
"Give us a minute or two Jess, and we will be."
There was an embarrassed silence, followed by Jesse's voice, sounding unnaturally self-conscious for him. It was obvious he now realized what he had probably interrupted. "Uh—I—uh—I'll be in the drawing room. Don't hurry—take your time,
really. ..." Then they heard him go downstairs.
Giggling, Christie ran her fingers through the wet curls at the nape of Garrett's neck and buried her delicate nose briefly in the damp hair on his chest. "I don't know who was more disconcerted, we or Jesse." Theo, sighing, she added, "This seems to be our afternoon for interruptions, darling."
"True," said Garrett, "and in our own chambers, too. If we're not careful, we'll be relegated to making love only at conventional moments, like any old married pair, in our proper bed, in the proper still of the night." He was still holding her, although lightly, his hands about her tiny waist in the water, and his shallow breathing and the only slightly slackening pressure beneath her buttocks told Christie his passion was taking its time to cool.
"Somehow, my love," said Christie, "I don't think this married pair will ever see its love-making relegated to the conventional. But I was wondering"—she grinned—"exactly how you would manage to remove these sodden breeches underwater!"
Chuckling, Garrett hoisted her up from his lap and rose with her, leaving them standing, dripping, in the large tub. "That, madam, is something I shall have to demonstrate in the future." He grinned, and turning her around, he swung her over the tub's rim and onto the floor. Giving her an affectionate slap on the buttocks then, he said, "At the moment, however, I find it necessary to remove these clinging breeches and their tempting contents from my presence, so we may, indeed, make a decent appearance downstairs."
Looking at him over her shoulder, Christie shot him an impish grin and managed a deliberately seductive wiggle to her bottom as she made for the dressing room. At his raised eyebrows, she merely giggled. "Just so you aren't likely to forget, my lord, the object upon which your plans for future demonstrations rest."
"Vixen!" he called after her. "Please know that I shall never be in danger of such lapses of memory. Not even when I'm an old, old man!" Then, forcing himself to check his inclination to dash after her and cancel all postponements, Garrett grabbed the large towel Jasper had left nearby and began to rub himself briskly with it. "I think it's time I spoke with Brother Jess about building a second residence at Riverlea," he said to himself. "'Twould save us all some measure of future embarrassment, not to mention frustration."
Less than half an hour later, they were joining Jesse in the appointed room, and the younger brother actually flushed when they entered. Jesse was seated in a large Queen Anne wing chair near the window, sipping a glass of brandy as he regarded them. It was clear he, too, had bathed, for his black hair was also damp and curling at the neck like Garrett's. After the first flush of discomfort had passed, he cleared his throat and his sapphire-blue eyes twinkled merrily.
"Sit down, you two." He smiled, gesturing at the yellow damask-covered sofa across from him. "I've more than a few things to discuss with you."
After Christie and Garrett were seated, and the older brother had been given a brandy of his own, and Christie, a lemonade from a waiting pitcher,
Jesse's face became serious.
"As soon as we are able, I'd like the three of us to set out for a series of rides across Riverlea to help me determine a proper location for the building of a second big house," he said.
"A
second
Big House?" questioned Christie. "But whatever for, Jesse? This one's big enough for—"
Seeing Garrett's knowing smile and look as he gazed meaningfully at her,.she held her peace, saying only, "Oh. I see."
Jesse continued. "You see, Christie, long before you entered our lives, Garrett and I made a pact regarding our residence here. It was, simply, that whoever of us should marry first would retain this house for him, his bride, and their heirs. The other would retain his share of half the acreage of Riverlea, but would build himself a new residence on a suitable spot, a mutually agreeable distance away." He smiled at them both before continuing. "It's odd. When we made the pact, we were each so completely sure it would be
Garrett
who would be leaving this big house to
me!
He had no intention of marrying and I seemed all too likely a candidate for some future form of wedded bliss. See how easily Dame Fortune turns the tables!"
Laughing, Christie leaned warmly into the curve of her husband's arm as it circled behind her. "Truly, fortune must be a woman, given so wonderfully to changing her mind! And I thank heaven she did," she said, looking softly, adoringly into Garrett's eyes. Then, turning to her brother-in-law, she said, "But Jesse, you must not feel rushed to move out of here.
I'd feel awful if you did. But tell us, do you have a likely spot picked out? I hope there's another location as perfect as this!"
Chuckling, Jesse said to her, warmly, "I appreciate your considerate concern, little Sister, but there's no fear of undue haste. It took Garrett almost a year to see to the completion of this house. No matter how soon we start, I'm afraid the two of you will be saddled with my obvious presence for some time to come. And as for a similarly suitable location, I'm sure we can find a good dozen or more. I recall, brother, you had one or two picked out yourself."
"I did,"—Garrett grinned—"and I'd be more than happy to bequeath them to you, Brother. But what other news?"
"Just this," replied Jesse, handing Christie a wax-sealed envelope. "Your courier returned from Charleston about an hour ago with it."
"It's in Aunt Margaret's hand!" exclaimed Christie. "I had no idea we'd receive a reply so soon."
Opening the missive, Christie read aloud:
My Dear Christie and Family,