Echoes From The Past (Women of Character)

by Grace Brannigan

  "True, but I think living so closely creates tension."

  He agreed but why did he feel so reluctant, then?

  "I know you were worried about Hannah’s reaction to having me in the house, but she’s really a great kid. I know how tough it can be, being mother and father all rolled into one."

  Garrett studied the sincerity in her face. "Then you can understand why I worry about Hannah." He pushed a hand through his hair.

  Her smile and the caring in her face invited him to confide, but Garrett rejected the notion. He would handle his daughter’s problems. He cleared his throat. "Now," he said brusquely, "about that apartment, it’s pretty rough. There isn’t even any carpet."

  "That won’t bother me at all."

  "There’s no substantial heat when the nights get cold."

  "I’ll use a blanket."

  "Well, it is vacant. You’re welcome to it."

  "Wonderful. Can I make the move this weekend?"

  "You don’t waste time, do you? I’ll see what I can do."

  Her smile appeared strained.

  "Good night, Garrett."

  Garrett forced himself to keep still. "See you tomorrow." He wanted nothing more in that moment than to reach for her again. He watched her walk back through the terrace doors, her bare feet noiseless on floor, and he suddenly felt empty inside, as if he’d let something precious slip away. Foolish. Nothing had slipped away. He’d sent her away.

  Chapter Seven

  Several hours later Christie skirted a small table on her way to Hannah’s room. It was probably unnecessary, but she felt the need to check on her niece. It kept running through her head that her sister’s illness had started out with cold-like symptoms also. What most people saw as a simple cold, she had learned to fear something worse. It was a deeply ingrained fear.

  The door to Garrett’s room stood slightly ajar and the room was dark. She folded her arms around herself, suddenly conscious of her thin nightshirt. The cotton reached the tops of her knees, so it was perfectly decent. Quickly, she slipped past his door and then the next door down the hall was Hannah’s room. Silently she entered the room and made her way to the bed.

  The room was softly lit by a night-light, and she could see Hannah as she lay sleeping in her unique pumpkin bed with its gold painted wheels.

  A soft thumping drew her attention. Bo Peep lay at the foot of the bed, wagging her tail against the floor. The dog’s eyes gleamed an eerie gold in the meager light. Christie spoke softly to the dog and gently fondled her head as she slipped by her.

  Christie touched Hannah’s forehead with her fingertips. Her skin felt cool and her breathing sounded normal. Feeling reassured, realizing she’d worried needlessly she pulled the covers up to Hannah’s chest.

  Christie noticed the framed picture on Hannah’s bedside table and she lifted the picture. She could make out the faces in the glow of the night light. Hannah, Garrett and a dark blond woman with eyes like her sister Ellen. Her memories of Judith were vague, but Christie knew this had to be her. Her breath caught as emotion tightened a band around her chest. Judith.

  The picture showed Garrett beside Judith while Hannah stood in front of him. There was something very possessive about the way his arm rested across Judith’s shoulders.

  Slowly, Christie replaced the picture. She backed away from the bed and stumbled back against something. She threw her hand back and it slid down a warm leg. Quickly, she pulled her hand back and spun around. Garrett stood behind her. His big hands gripped her arms.

  "Why are you in here?" Garrett’s warm breath hit her cheek. A shiver ran down her back where she could feel the heat of his chest.

  "Garrett." In the meager light she saw he wore only boxer shorts. His upper torso was tantalizingly close and somehow her hand had come to rest against his chest. She became aware of soft chest hair and flexing muscles. Her breathing quickened and with determination she stepped around him and walked across the room to the door. Once out in the hallway she turned and he was right behind her.

  "I saw the picture of Judith."

  Garrett’s eyes narrowed and he glanced back toward Hannah’s room.

  "I didn’t mean to snoop. But it was there." She swallowed. "She looks like Ellen."

  "Why were you in my daughter’s room?"

  One look at his hard face reminded Christie she was walking around in her sleepwear. She tried not to think about his hard, almost naked body so close to her. Sexual awareness of him made her heart pound and she stared at his boxer shorts again. She rubbed her palms together and sighed, knowing nothing less than the truth would do. "I wanted to check on Hannah. I was worried about her cold."

  He looked surprised, then skeptical. "She'll be fine in the morning."

  "I know, I know, but sometimes colds escalate into something worse, or other symptoms mask themselves as colds. . ." she let her voice trail off. "I'll just go to bed. Good night. See you in the morning." She knew she was talking way too fast but something was happening inside, making her feel all shivery and shaky. She wasn’t sure how to deal with this sexual need. In truth it had never hit her so hard. At least, not when she felt so vulnerable, and . . . needy.

  "Are you sure you weren’t looking for my room?"

  Feeling a sense of shock, Christie said, "Of course not! And I do know which room is yours. I believe you made it clear earlier you don’t want to get involved. You’re right, of course. Why get involved when we’re so very different?"

  When his hands came down on her shoulders Christie stiffened. If she tilted her head back she could skim his throat with her lips.

  His thumbs moved in a circular motion. Didn’t he know what that touch did to her insides. . . that the scent of him was warm in her nostrils? She wanted to lean a bit closer and forget everything. She groaned. "You make me want things I can’t have." Christie was mortified to hear the words out loud.

  Garrett let out a harsh breath. "Damn, I want to forget everything I said earlier."

  She sucked in a startled breath. She had to get out of here before she did something they would both regret, like follow her thoughts with action.

  "I better go to bed." How lame. Christie closed her eyes.

  "Yeah, bed," he said, not moving, not releasing her. Seconds passed; thick, waiting, excruciating. "Go to bed, Christie." He sounded angry.

  "Yes. G-good night." She spun around and rushed blindly forward, bumping against the small table she’d avoided earlier. Together, they reached for the table as it rocked sideways. Garrett's hand brushed against her leg. Christie drew in a startled breath as heat raced to her stomach.

  "Sorry," he muttered, then added, "Ah, hell, I’m not."

  Despite the fierceness of his voice, the hand that reached to cup the side of her face was gentle. With a groan, Garrett dipped his head toward her. His mouth took possession, his tongue gliding over hers. She reciprocated and fire exploded in her chest. She wanted only to breathe in his scent and experience the hardness of his body; mint toothpaste and the scent that was all his. She savored his taste as she explored his mouth with lips and tongue.

  "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.

  Sh
e 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 threaten
ed. "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.