Echoes From The Past (Women of Character)

by Grace Brannigan

  "Uncle Randy, you can’t go!" Hannah threw her arms around his neck. With some satisfaction, Garrett saw cookie crumbs rain down the back of Randy’s shirt, leaving a dusty trail.

  "I have to go." Randy dropped another kiss on Hannah’s cheek. "Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow."

  Garrett followed his brother out the door. "Leaving so soon?"

  "I don’t want to cramp your style, big brother."

  The screen door closed behind them. "What’s that supposed to mean?" Garrett growled.

  Randy just whistled and Garrett followed him down the steps and across the back yard, a tinge of guilt snaking through him. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. Randy had been having a good time with Hannah.

  Randy kept walking. "You figure it out."

  "My ribbing never bothered you before," Garrett said stubbornly.

  Randy stopped and faced him. "That’s right, and it doesn’t bother me now. I’m just backing out gracefully. I get the idea you’re feeling a bit territorial."

  "That’s crap."

  Randy smiled, speculation in his gaze. "Is it?"

  Garrett opened his mouth to refute his brother’s statement, then closed it. Was he acting territorial? Yeah, he’d been annoyed at the idea of Randy making moves on his new employee. . ..

  He pulled open the door to the small shed behind the house. "Yeah, it’s crap," he said. He walked into the shed and then pushed his motorcycle outside. "She’s been here a few days and you’re seeing something that isn’t there. Anyway, I know you’re really after Ally."

  It irritated Garrett when Randy merely shrugged a shoulder.

  "You keep bringing Ally up."

  "Why don’t you bring some honesty into this conversation and admit why you’re really here?"

  Randy just looked at him. Shaking his head, Garrett put a wooden plank against the lowered tailgate of Randy’s truck and together they pushed the Harley onto the truck bed, then secured it on both sides with ratcheted tie-downs.

  "By the way," Randy said, "Christie checks out. Her mother got pregnant as a teenager with Judith Kelly, who later was listed as a runaway. Your Judith. Judith’s father unknown. Christie has no priors, clean record. She had another sister, Ellen Jenkins, who died about three months ago."

  "That’s it?"

  "Do you want me to go further? I had Melinda at the office do a quick check. I didn’t call that number yet to check with her boss."

  "No." Garrett felt a mix of relief and new tension. Christie had been telling him the truth. She had a right to know Hannah. In his gut he’d known it but he had to be certain for Hannah’s sake.

  Randy slid on dark glasses and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks for the loan of the motorcycle. I’ll let you know how my hot date goes."

  "So you’ve decided to go back into the game? You can spare me the details."

  "I’ll give you all the details." Randy gave him a big smile. "I don’t want you to forget what a date is all about."

  "Very funny," Garrett said sourly. What did it matter if he hadn’t been on a date in over three months? It had been his choice. He was happy working his ranch. Hannah needed consistency. He didn’t want to shake her world up again, not after the last fiasco when he’d brought a female friend to the ranch. He cringed now just thinking of the temper tantrum.

  "I’ll probably see you in a couple days – if not before."

  "Before you go," Garrett said, "I need another favor. Can you check up on Les Doyle? I’m worried about Kim."

  "I heard he got canned at the plant and he’s drinking again."

  "I know that much."

  "I’ll keep my ears open. It’s nice to have a brother in law enforcement, now isn’t it?"

  Garrett smiled grudgingly. "Thanks."

  Randy opened his truck door with a loud squeal of hinges.

  "That seat looks like it’s going to fall in the road. Somebody should give you a ticket."

  Randy turned the screwdriver that served as his key. The truck started with a loud backfire and then a roar.

  "You need a muffler," Garrett said when the truck backfired again.

  Randy smiled. "It needs more than that. I’ll write myself a ticket. See ya."

  "Randy!" Garrett heard Christie’s voice as his brother began to drive away.

  Christie ran around the side of the house toward the driveway. "Randy!"

  Randy stopped the truck and a swirl of dust rose up around him. Coughing, Garrett stepped back.

  Christie gracefully jogged across the driveway, a brown paper bag in her hand. She leaned in the open passenger window of Randy’s truck and handed him the bag. She stood waving as Randy drove off.

  Christie turned to face him. "I almost forgot to give Randy his cookies. He told me they were his favorite."

  "Mine too," he said deliberately. "My mom always made chocolate chip cookies on Sundays. My dad was a chocoholic before we knew what that meant."

  "I’ve always had a weakness for chocolate myself," she admitted with a conspiratorial smile.

  Garrett smiled back at her as he led the way back to the house. At the back door he held the screen open for her. Once inside the kitchen, he said musingly, "I’m amazed Ruth turned the kitchen over to you. She’s very territorial."

  Christie moved to sit at the table across from his daughter. "Hannah and Ruth were in the midst of making cookies when she had to leave." She lowered her voice. "Hannah was disappointed and said her friend’s mom makes them cookies all the time, so I volunteered to fill in."

  Stiffly, Garrett leaned down and placed his palms flat on the table, his face very close to Christie’s. "I need to see you outside," he said.

  "What about your special cookies, Daddy?" Eyes wide, Hannah watched both of them.

  "Save them for me," he said. Courteously, he held the door open for Christie and they walked back outside. Almost defiantly, she swung her tail of hair over a shoulder and stomped down the stairs. She didn’t stop until she reached Hannah’s tire swing under the big old maple tree. She swung to face him and put her hands on slim hips.

  Garrett’s mouth went suddenly dry. Unaccountably, he had the strongest urge to lean forward and kiss that impertinent mouth until it turned soft and responsive. He shoved away that tempting thought.

  Looking up toward the house, Garrett could see his daughter watching them through the kitchen window, but knew she couldn’t hear him. He kept his voice low anyway. "I need you to understand Hannah can’t get her way all the time, or depend on you to make cookies. That’s Ruth’s job."

  "I happened to be there so I said I’d help finish the cookies they’d started. Hannah wasn’t happy, but I guess she really wanted to make the cookies. The other night you warned me about your daughter’s possible hostility and now you seem bothered that she might be okay with me. I’ll remind you I am her aunt."

  Garrett took three steps away and then circled back. "Hannah likes to pretend. She misses her mother, but I don’t want anything setting her up for heartache later."

  "I’d never hurt a child, especially one as sensitive as Hannah." Christie set her jaw. "And I’m certainly not trying to take my sister’s place."

  "I’m not saying you’d hurt anyone on purpose." All he had to do was look in her eyes to know that, but he had to protect his daughter. "She was hurt bad when her mom died. She’s still pretty breakable."

  "I understand your priority, but see it from my point of view. She’s my only link with my sister. If Hannah comes looking for me, I won’t turn her away."

  "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 affec
tion 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.