Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) (11 page)

"Why didn’t you tell me your
sister Ellen died?"

"What does it matter to
you?"

Garrett had no ready answer.
"I don’t know, but it might have made a difference."

Her lips trembled. "Ellen’s
passing is something that’s so new, I really can’t talk about it. First Ellen
and now I find out about Judith. How do you expect me to talk about it?"
She pushed at the moisture at the corner of her eyes. "Right now I’m
battling for some tiny measure of affection from Hannah. That’s my priority."
Christie took a step toward the house but Garrett grabbed her forearm and kept
her still.

"I won’t have Hannah hurt.
She won’t turn out to be a bundle of neuroses like her mother." Resigned,
he bit back a sigh. "Judith could never understand how families work
together. She hated long-term commitment."

"You keep implying I’m like
Judith. Is that what you think about me?"

"I don’t know you. But I can
say if you’re like her, you wouldn’t be happy at Winding Creek Farms for the
long haul."

"You sound so certain."

"I lived it."

Christie’s eyes grew wide and he
knew he’d upset her. "I have cookies in the oven," she said. This
time, Garrett didn’t try to stop her from leaving.

###

From the window Christie watched Garrett’s
quick, hard strides. She picked up a dishrag and vigorously cleaned the table
where Hannah was busy stirring batter.

They all had places of blind,
tender pain in their lives. With her, it was her family, and in a way she and
Garrett shared that pain. Perhaps it was what Garrett left unsaid that was the
most telling, but he’d certainly laid the truth out in the open this time.

Before, it was everything he
didn’t say that made Christie wonder if his relationship with her sister had
been less than ideal. Christie thought of when her sister Ellen had died, the
empty, echoing apartment and then she'd lost custody of her nephew. God knows
it had been more than she could bear. She had taken the easy way out, she’d
run.

"These are all for
Daddy," Hannah carefully arranged cookies on a separate plate. "And
nobody else."

Christie hid a smile. "Your
dad will gobble those up."

The wide eyes and hopeful look on
Hannah’s face was almost too much to see. She looked down at the cookies and
pulled the plate closer. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course. Not only are
those your dad’s favorite cookies, but since you were the one who made them,
they’re extra special."

A look of pure pleasure stole over
Hannah’s features. Christie hoped she hadn’t overstated Garrett’s reaction to
Hannah’s cookies. Surely he was sensitive enough to make a big deal out of his
daughter’s baking.

Idly, Christie folded and refolded
the wet cloth as she stared out the kitchen window. She could see Garrett and
Buddy talking by the barn. Watching them, Christie mused that Garrett was a man
in charge of his world. There was nothing wishy-washy about him. For the first
time in years she found herself seriously attracted to a man. That was a
dangerous thought since he was a man who had loved and married her own sister.
A woman full of neuroses, by his own words.

He was the first cowboy she’d ever
come in close contact with. He was so masculine, so forthright. He said what
was on his mind, yet she sensed caring in his actions. That was a big plus in
her mind, but she wasn’t discounting the physical aspects either, and she
didn’t want to be attracted to him. She’d deliberately kept all relationships
platonic since the fiasco of her engagement six years ago. But for once, she
wanted to throw caution to the wind. She wondered what it would be like to love
a man like Garrett, though that wasn’t too likely. He kept himself pretty well
insulated against getting too personal.

Christie rubbed the goose bumps on
her arms, dismay forming a hard knot in her throat. Falling for this man would
only mean trouble. She had not come all this way to be attracted to a tall,
soft-spoken cowboy with a hint of steel in his manner. She would not.

Christie chewed her lip, wondering
if she could work a deal with Garrett to use one of his vehicles. She needed to
look around the area, see if there were any suitable places where her sister
Ellen’s ashes could be laid to rest. She had wanted to share them with Judith,
but now that would never happen.

With determination, she turned
from the window, wiped down the last of the counters, then washed and dried the
cookie sheets just as Ruth's blue station wagon pulled up outside.

"Ruth’s back!" Hannah
exclaimed, jumping up from the table. She paused at the back door. "You
can leave now," she said abruptly, then ran out the back door.

Christie grimaced, thinking she’d
just been firmly put her place by an eight-year old. Christie caught the screen
door before it hit the wall and followed the child outside. She walked over to
the car as Sam exited the driver’s side and opened the back door. Hannah stood
beside Ruth’s door, talking excitedly about having seen Uncle Randy. "It
was the best part of the whole afternoon," she ended.

"Hi Sam," Christie said.
She reached inside the car and began lifting out grocery bags.

"That's not necessary,
Miss," Ruth told her, having come around to the back also. Christie looked
at her with surprise, noticing her graying head held rather stiffly.

"Oh, I thought I’d
help," Christie said, stepping back. She looked inside the car, the bag
clutched in her hands. "There’s quite a few bags in there. Between the
three of us it’ll take no time."

Ruth's mouth relaxed just a bit.
"Come along inside, then. There’s no sense standing out in this sun."

Hannah shouldered past her and ran
ahead with a small white bag in one hand.

"Hannah, don't you go through
anything until I get these groceries unpacked," Ruth scolded.

It was obvious how much Ruth cared
about the child. Children needed to know they were wanted. Not that she
expected anything less of Garrett. He was the type of man who would surround
his child with people who cared about her. She just wished Hannah didn’t
dislike her. She’d never had a child act that way to her before and found it
unnerving. She wondered what kind of reaction she’d get if she told Hannah she
was her aunt, as she wanted to do.

In the kitchen Hannah stood beside
the counter with the small bag, watching Ruth with an expectant look on her
face.

"How you manage to find the
one bag that might be for you, young lady, I'll never know," Ruth said
affectionately.

"Probably because you've been
bringing her gee-gaws since you started here." Sam deposited two bags on
the counter top.

"What is it?" Hannah
asked eagerly.

"Look and see," Ruth
said with a laugh.

Christie watched Hannah's delight
as she opened the bag and pulled out a book. Christie caught a brief glimpse of
the cover and recognized it as one of a children’s series about a magic tree
house. For a moment, tears smarted her eyes. It had been Eric’s favorite series
of books and she’d been reading them to her nephew just before she’d left. With
a pang, she wondered if his father had continued reading to him each night.
Running to Ruth, the child looped her arms around the older woman’s hips and
hugged her.

"Thank you."

The back door swung open and
Garrett walked in with several bags in his arms.

Hannah spun around excitedly.
"Daddy, look. Can we read this tonight?"

Garrett looked at the book.
"Hmm, how did Ruth know you haven’t read that book yet?"

"She always knows!" The
child exclaimed. "This is even better than making cookies."

"Hannah!" Garrett’s
obvious disapproval made Hannah dip her head. He softened his voice. "It
was nice of Christie to use her free time to help you bake."

"Sorry," she muttered. Surprisingly,
she looked up at Christie and said, "Thank you for helping me with the
cookies."

"Any time, Hannah,"
Christie said quietly.

Garrett ran a hand over the top of
his daughter’s head in an affectionate gesture. Christie saw him eyeing the
newly baked cookies on the counter. When she caught his glance, his eyes held a
twinkle instead of the residue of irritation she half-expected from their
earlier conversation.

Christie, never one to hold a
grudge, felt the attraction for this man surge inside her. "Go
ahead," she invited. "You look like you can’t wait to dive in."

Hannah grabbed her father’s hand.
"Wait, Daddy." She lifted the plate of cookies she had earlier set
aside. "These are yours. I made them all by myself. They have extra
chocolate chips."

Garrett reached for a cookie from
Hannah’s plate, then changed his mind and grabbed three. Christie saw his
boyish grin as he bit the first cookie in half. He stopped chewing for a
moment, a strange look on his face.

"Are they good?"
Christie saw the way Hannah clenched her hands in anticipation of Garrett’s
response. "Are they, Daddy?"

Garrett nodded vigorously.
"Good, great." He chewed faster and then swallowed. "The best
I’ve had today. I had no idea you could bake such good cookies, Hannah. Do you
think this batch could be all mine?" he added.

Hannah beamed. "That’s why I
made them."

Garrett balanced the remaining
cookies he had taken in one hand. Christie watched him bite into another
cookie, chew and swallow.

Sam carried in the last two
grocery bags and placed them on the table. Absently, Christie reached for a
small piece of cookie from Garrett’s plate that had broken in two. Ruth spoke
to Garrett about dinner while Hannah stood leaning against her father’s leg,
her fingers hooked in one of his belt loops. Hannah watched him closely as he
ate the entire cookie. The screen door opened and closed as Sam went back
outside. Christie felt enclosed in a silent void, as if imprinting this scene
in a corner of her mind.

They were a family. Christie
realized, not for the first time, how much she didn't belong here. When the
month was up she would be gone, leaving life and the people at Winding Creek
Farms undisturbed. Hannah would certainly be happy when she left, Ruth might be
indifferent, and Garrett. . ..

Christie stared at Garrett. He was
totally involved in the success of his business and his daughter’s happiness.
Her leaving would impact nothing in his world. He and Hannah were their own
little family unit.

Heat pricked at the back of her
eyes and she hated her weakness, the emotion. She had always wanted this while
growing up, but she’d never really known for sure that it existed. Parents and
children who talked to each other, a sense of love and well-being filling a
house. She wondered if she was meant to go through life a shadow, never having
an impact on anyone's life.

With a muffled excuse, she left
the kitchen and hurried down the back steps. She walked away from the barns,
toward the open pasture. Her throat contracted in a tight band. She was afraid
she would start bawling right then and there. She felt terrible and shaky deep
down inside. God! She was jealous. . .jealous of the love in that house. How
terrible a person did that make her? She and Ellen had been so close, and then
she and her nephew Eric, but now they were both gone. She missed their warm
closeness.

Christie’s hands shook. She
realized she was furious that it had been snatched away. She drew in a lungful
of air, then another, pushing back the thoughts that threatened to bring her to
tears. She felt overwhelmed by anger and for a moment, swamped with self-pity.

The world could sometimes be a
cold place, but not here, not these people. That thought became a conviction.
She almost wished she hadn’t gotten this glimpse into life here at the farm.
They had troubles, Garrett and his daughter, but they loved each other and that
caring was half the battle won. They would make it.

She looked down at the piece of
cookie in her hand. She took a bite and chewed it, then almost gagged. The
cookies that Hannah had taken such pride in were loaded with salt. She had
added too much salt. Lifting her hand, Christie pitched the rest of the cookie
as far as she could into the woods.

She smiled, and then she began to
laugh. Garrett had known. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles.
Christie walked further from the house, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Garrett had known with that first bite that the cookies weren’t edible, and yet
he hadn’t let anyone know. He’d even eaten a second one so as not to hurt his
daughter’s feelings. Hell, he’d asked for the entire plate! Where do you find a
man like that, a man who took such care with a child’s feelings? Unaccountably,
the thought came: he would cherish a wife. The woman he loved would never doubt
he was a man who cared deeply. What then, had happened between him and Judith?

In that moment, Christie realized
how lucky she was to have ended up here on Winding Creek property, even if only
to see this type of love and trust first hand. Wistfully, she wondered if her
life would have been different if she’d grown up in this town, or if she’d met
someone like Garrett years ago, when she’d still thought there was a place for
love in her life.

A few days later, Christie prepared
to leave the house for work. She paused on the kitchen threshold when she
spotted Garrett climbing out of his pickup truck, a bag hanging from one hand.

Christie backed into the kitchen,
not really prepared to face Garrett. Her face felt hot as she recalled the
dreams she’d had all night. If dreams were wishes she was in trouble. She’d
dreamt she and Garrett had made love and she’d awakened tired and out of sorts.
She remembered her sister Judith had yelled at her in the dream that she
couldn’t have Garrett. After that, she’d tossed for two hours until she’d
decided to get up at five thirty.