Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) (15 page)

"You taste good," she
murmured, coming up for breath.

Christie pressed her fingers
against his chest, tangling them in the hair. It was erotic, letting her
fingertips slide again and again over his chest, aware that his breathing was
just as erratic as hers.

Garrett cupped her cheeks and held
her still when she would have kissed him again. They stared at each other in
the dimly lit hallway. "Time to say goodnight," he said, his voice
uneven.

Christie knew she was in trouble,
these emotions churned inside her, but she didn't care. It had been worth it,
experiencing that kiss, touching Garrett. When he pulled her right up against
him, it hadn’t been a simple kiss any more. Elation and fear tore through her,
but she didn’t regret the kiss. Even now her stomach was churning with
different emotions, a combination of pleasure and pain. She’d wanted to jump
off the deep end and pull Garrett in with her.

She wanted to burn her with desire
for him, give in to it, and that reckless notion frightened her. It was so
mysterious, the way two bodies could ignite when they came together.

"Goodnight," she said,
and this time walked away into her bedroom. Shakily, she climbed into bed.
Rolling over she pulled the covers tightly around her body. She couldn’t stop
thinking about what had happened.

What was there about Garrett that
drew her to him? She felt complete when she was with him, as if she could tell
him anything. A foolish notion, she thought bitterly. She knew men did not want
to know everything, no matter how much they professed care about a woman.
Garrett certainly didn’t love her. Lusted for her maybe, not love. She knew
some things were better left unsaid -- some action better left undone.

Christie felt equally frightened
and exhilarated, and hugged the conflicting emotions to her chest. She knew it
was only a matter of time before she and Garrett made love.

###

On Saturday, Christie woke to the
warmth of the sun heating her body. It felt so good she was tempted to stay
under the covers. Unbidden, thoughts of waking beside a man like Garrett
entered her mind. It was crazy to allow her heart to follow this attraction,
but she had thought of little else lately.

Guilt flared. She had thought of
Ellen only fleetingly in the last two days and of Judith, she’d thought hardly
at all. How could she let this attraction consume her thoughts when her first
priority was to find a resting place for her sister?

Christie rose quickly and dressed.

Garrett had said she could move
into the apartment over the barn today so she stashed her clothes in the duffel
bag, straightened the bed and walked to the door. Looking back at the room, she
saw the wrapped bundle on the dresser.

Christie crossed the room and
lifted the urn, moving to sit on the bed with it clutched in her hands. She
unwrapped the cloth and stared at the small wooden book urn with its inlaid
running horses. Ellen had loved anything of beauty, and Christie knew she would
have cherished this keepsake urn. Carefully, she rewrapped it and placed it in
her bag.

Christie left the quiet house and
walked across the dirt driveway toward the barn. Once inside, she climbed the
narrow stairway. The apartment had two entrances, one through the barn 
and one that went down to a large inside arena.

She stepped inside the apartment
and stopped in amazement.

The light colored hardwood floors
had been scrubbed clean of construction debris and dust. A mattress still in
plastic leaned up against one wall, and a single bed frame and box spring had
been pushed into a corner beside a small dresser and bed table with a lamp. The
sloping ceiling made a cozy little nook by the windows and Garrett had already
placed a dresser and night stand there.

Blankets, sheets, pillows and a
colorful quilt lay folded on top of the dresser. On the opposite side of the
room sat a large desk and a straight chair. The sheetrock had been newly
painted last week, according to Ally, and Christie liked the pale chocolate
color of the walls.

Christie turned at the sound of
voices.

"Do you think Christie will
like that?" Garrett asked as he and Hannah walked out of a small room. The
bathroom.

As Christie's eyes met Garrett's
she blinked slowly, trying to breathe carefully as heat enveloped her. Surely,
she didn’t have to feel like a teenage girl with a crush. She tore her gaze
from Garrett and stared instead at Hannah, who had begun an excited inventory
of the room.

"-- and Daddy even bought one
of those shell-things that makes the bathroom smell nice. We plugged it in,
didn't we Daddy?" Hannah looked at her father for confirmation. At
Garrett’s nod, Hannah rushed on excitedly, "It's supposed to be a
surprise. We got up early and cleaned everything."

"I’m touched by the way you
both have worked to make this room comfortable." Amazingly, Hannah had
turned into a chatterbox, and Christie wondered if it was because she was now
out of the house. Perhaps she saw her as more of a threat to her father’s
attention than Christie had realized.

"Thank you." She found
she could smile at him now that the heat had subsided from her face. She was an
adult, surely a few kisses wouldn't rock her world off kilter?

"It doesn’t look too bad now
that it’s cleaned up." Garrett nodded with satisfaction. Christie turned
to survey the remainder of the room. Even the small kitchenette had been
cleaned. Opening the cupboards, she found pots, dishes and silverware in the
drawers.

"I’m sure Ruth can probably
find curtains that will fit the windows."

"You’ve thought of
everything." A lump of gratitude tightened her throat. "You’ve gone
to a lot of trouble. It doesn't look like there's much more for me to do."

"There's a couple boxes that
have to go in storage. When I get time I'll go through them and get them out of
your way. I’ve packed them in the closet for now."

Christie looked at the closet
door. "My stuff doesn't take up much space."

"I’ve noticed. I have a rug
in the attic that I'll bring over. On some mornings it's cool, so you'll need
that on the floor. Also, there's a small heater in the wall. I'll show you how
to work that."

When Garrett and Hannah finally
left Christie walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the yard
below. She could see Garrett and Hannah walk toward the house together. Sliding
the window open, Christie heard Hannah's delighted giggles as Garrett swung her
onto his broad shoulders. Christie smiled at their loving relationship.

"She’s leaving soon, isn’t
she, Daddy?" Hannah’s voice floated back to her from below. "Then it
will be just you and me. And Uncle Randy."

"That’s right."
Garrett’s voice sounded almost resigned, and that made Christie wonder if she
was hearing what she wanted to hear. What if Garrett didn’t want her to leave and
was too proud to ask her? Would she stay if he asked? Could she stay with a man
who was once her sister’s husband?

Both she and Garrett were young
and healthy, mutual attraction wasn't unusual, except that Garrett still held
feelings for Judith. Christie feared she might be grasping at something that
wasn’t there, something Garrett couldn’t give her. Emptiness filled Christie.
No one should have to fight a ghost.

With determination, she stepped
back and surveyed the large, airy room. Her eyes fell on the bed frame.
Carefully, she maneuvered the frame across the floor and set it before the
window. Next, she dragged the mattress over and after pulling the plastic off,
set it on the metal box spring.

She made up the bed with the soft
blue floral sheets, the cotton thermal blanket, and the homespun quilt with
bright red and white quilted strips. Stepping back, Christie felt pleased. Each
morning she woke up, each night she fell asleep, she would see the hills in the
distance, the barns dotting the landscape and Garrett's house. Until it was
time to leave.

A short while later she heard
footsteps coming up the stairs. She walked out to the small landing and saw
Garrett coming up the stairs with a rolled-up rug. Christie stared at the
bundle in wonder and stepped back into the room out of his way.

"This rug should cover the
middle of the room," he observed, letting one end drop to the floor.

Together, they unrolled it. The
fibers had been dyed in several shades of blue and soft rose. "It’s
gorgeous," she finally managed. "How very generous of you."

Garrett walked toward the door.
"There’s more," he said over his shoulder. "I had Buddy carry
over a rocker."

Garrett walked back out the door
and Christie heard a scuffling noise, then he reentered the room carrying a honey-colored
wooden rocking chair. The arms were curved like teardrops while the seat and
back were woven cane.

Staring at the rocker, before she
thought about it, Christie blurted, "Was this Judith’s?"

Giving her a surprised look,
Garrett said, "No. Judith liked more modern furniture."

"Oh." Embarrassed, she
turned away.

Garrett’s hand was at her elbow,
gently turning her back to him. She stared into his light gray eyes.

"You’re being so
generous." She swallowed hard, blinking to keep back the tears that threatened.
"I feel like all I’m doing is taking."

"What's troubling you?"
he demanded in a low voice.

"What you’ve done here for me
means so much."

"Are you sure you’re not
upset because of the other night when I kissed you? I want to promise it won’t
happen again but I can’t."

"It’s not about that."

His grimace said he didn’t believe
her.

"I’m touched by what you’ve
done. It’s so special." Very definitely, Christie added, "And as far
as the other night, I feel like it’s my fault." She looked up at the ceiling.
"Boy, this is awkward. I know you still have feelings for Judith. I’m the
one who should have backed off."

Garrett put his hand up to stop
her words, his face grim. "We need to talk and get some things straight
between us." His light colored eyes met hers, the sincerity in their
depths unchanged from the first day she had met him. Garrett pulled the rocking
chair around and indicated she should sit. Christie did so, sitting with her
hands pressed tensely against her thighs.

He pulled out the desk chair and
straddled it. The action pulled his jeans tight against his legs. Christie
quickly looked up at his face.

"Judith died almost nineteen
months ago. Hannah was only six and a half." Garrett met her gaze
directly. "Judith was leaving me the day she died. She drove too fast and
was killed in the accident. Somehow, Hannah survived."

Christie was stunned. "My
sister was leaving?"

"Our marriage had been over
for awhile. We lived in the same house, but there was nothing there. I guess I
let it go on so long because I didn’t want to admit to failure." The
regret in his voice touched her. "And maybe I was too busy."

He looked down at his hands.
"In looking back, I know we should never have married. We were so wild,
neither of us ready for the commitment that marriage brings. Judith loved to
travel. She hated being tied down. I accused her of thinking responsibility was
a dirty word.

"Back then all the money I
had was tied up in the horses. I knew once my two-year olds started making a
name for themselves on the track things could snowball.

"After she left, it got a lot
worse before I pulled myself together. When I started the farm, all I had were
six broken down mares with great bloodlines and one unproven stallion. I took a
chance and bought the mares at a bankruptcy auction. They were passed over by
other bidders, but good bloodlines don't disappear just because of age.

"I was certain I had a
winning combination. I just needed to convince the racing world and the way to
do that was by winning. Along the way I took some gambles. One gamble I went
too far and lost a lot of our money and almost lost my farm. About that time
Judith got tired of waiting for the dream to come true. She was very unhappy. I
found out later she was ... seeing other men."

"Oh, Garrett." Compassion
filled Christie. That must be the most painful betrayal. "I know what it
must cost you to tell me that."

He gave a stiff nod. "After
she died, I had a recurring dream or maybe you’d call it a nightmare. In it, I
knew that if I’d stopped her that last day, she’d still be alive. I’m the one
that found her in the crumpled mess of the car. It still churns my guts into
knots."

Compassionately, Christie moved to
kneel before him. She cradled one of his hands with her own, the sting of tears
in her eyes. "Oh, Garrett, I’m so sorry, for you and for Judith."

"That’s how your sister
died."

"We’re each responsible for
our own actions. Judith chose her course, she left. I have to believe she found
something better here with you. But in the end, something was still driving
her. It wasn’t your fault."

Garrett clenched his jaw.
"Hannah still suffers flashbacks from that accident. She rarely talks
about it. For weeks afterwards the doctors weren’t sure she’d talk at
all."

"That poor kid, to have gone
through something like that."

"You know I’m not Hannah’s
biological father, but when Judith and I first married I insisted on adopting
her."

Christie’s throat tightened with
sympathy. "I understand how very much you love Hannah. I’m growing to love
her also."

Gently, his fingers threaded
through the hair at the base of her skull as he watched her intently.
"What about you, Christie?"

"What do you mean?" she
asked, wary now as she sat back on her heels.

"I understand you wanted to
find Judith, but what made you leave everything behind and take to the road?
What secrets are you hiding?" The questions were direct. Garrett had
revealed his hurt to her, how could she not reciprocate? Suddenly, there was
nowhere else to hide.