Christie (34 page)

.
"In terms of getting the work done, not difficult at all," answered Garrett, "but in terms of having it accepted by our neighbors in this, the major slave-holding state, it is not easy."

"Just the problem Charles has," said Barnaby. "Virginia is second highest among the states for numbers of slaves owned, and those who do own them resent someone of Charles's stature eschewing the practice."

"There are those who say Father could have been governor if he thought differently," added Christie. "We heard similar talk of our father when we were children," said Jesse, who had noticed his brother had taken his wife's hand as it rested on the back of his chair and, having reached up to hold it, was now playing gently with the wedding ring she wore.

"It's true," said John Sinclair. "Your
father was
well liked in the county and becoming
known
throughout the state, but when he gave
up the
practice of owning slaves, he might as well
have d
eclared himself out of the running—for any office."

"Yes, but owing to his fine character and good nature, people still liked and respected him as a man," said Garrett.

"What made him decide to give up slaves if he already owned some?" questioned Charles.

"One day, when I was just ten and Jesse a toddling mite, our father came home from Charleston and informed our mother that he had just experienced something that changed forever his convictions on the matter. Then he took the two of us boys back to Charleston with him and we experienced it, too. He took us aboard a slaver. The ship had just docked in the harbor, and while there were no longer any of those poor devils on it, all the rest of the evidence of their tenure was there. I will never forget the sight of those chains as long as I live—and the smell
. . . the s
tench aboard that vessel is ingrained in my memory for all time. When we came home, our father immediately set about selling all his slaves. It took some time, for he was particular that they go to good homes and that families not be broken up. We found out later that he had tried to set them free, although it would have come close to impoverishing him, but there was pressure from his neighbors not to do this, for fear their own slaves would hear of it and the seeds of resentment and perhaps even insurrection would be sown."

"Yes," said Jesse, "and not being a man to
instigate trouble of those proportions, he just quietly sold off his own. Since that day no Randall has owned a slave."

"I declare," interrupted Celia, "but all this talk of economics and politics is just too much for me. If you'll all excuse me, I think I'll go upstairs and peek in
on
my grandnephew and then retire. Christie, I'd ask you to join me, but I know such discussions have always been your meat. Garrett, I hope you know what you're in for. All this talk about running for governor—it just made me thankful women don't— heaven forbid—run for office, or your wife would likely one day be running with the best of them."

Then she nodded and left the room, prompting the Reverend Sinclair to take one look at Joanna Sinclair and declare she must be bored by such topics also and that they would be taking their leave.

So the evening ended, a full day for all, and as Garrett walked Christie up the stairs to her chamber, she felt an overwhelming sense of gladness at her lot in life, a joy in just being alive. She was young, attractive, and healthy; she had a wonderful family and good, good friends, a new baby son, and a handsome husband who, maybe, just maybe, was growing to care for her. It still amazed her to hear bits of stories and information about Garrett and his past, as she had tonight, and to realize how much what she learned confirmed him to be the kind of man she would have described she desired in a husband, long before she met him, had she been asked. "And, yet, I thought I hated him once," she thought, "and to love him as I do now... So much for maidenly convictions ..."

"It's very puzzling, indeed," she said aloud without realizing it.

"What's puzzling, little one?" questioned Garrett.

They had just stopped before her chamber door, and he was fingering the lock of hair that curled over her left breast as he gazed thoughtfully down at her.

"Oh," said Christie with a smile, "just maidenly convictions."

"I see," said Garrett, not really sure he saw at all, "hardly fitting food for the thought of a young matron about to turn nineteen in a couple of months."

"Oh, Garrett, has it really been that long?"

"Longer," he said, his voice low and serious.

Christie was just hoping he might want to kiss her again then, when a loud squalling from the nursery distracted them.

"That would be Randall obstinacy," chuckled Garrett. "Finding out he slept through the best part of the big day, our son won't be content unless he makes up for it by keeping us awake half the night."

345

Sighing, Christie mentally put her hopes in her pocket and went to see what might be done to quiet their son.

Chapter Twenty Five

"It's all pure rainwater," exclaimed Lula while she added another warm bucketful to Christie's tub. "Been collecting it all these weeks, saving it just for this occasion!"

"Oooh, Lu!" giggled Christie. "It's heaven! I know we washed my hair in the basin just yesterday, but can we wash it again in this?"

"Um-hmm," answered Lula. "Just let me go downstairs and warm some rinse water for it. You just relax and wallow a little bit. Ah'll be back in two shakes or a little more."

She had just gone, and Christie was sticking one shapely leg up into the air, squeezing water over it with a sponge and watching it trickle down as she hummed a small tune to herself. She felt totally pampered and perhaps even wicked at the pleasure she was having with the long-awaited bath.

"I may never come out," she said to herself aloud before resuming her tune.

"I'll admit it must feel good, but you would miss life's other pleasures," said her husband's voice.

Looking up in surprise, she saw Garrett leaning in
the doorway to the sitting room, a wide grin on his face. He wore tight-fitting green riding breeches, his habitual black riding boots, and a full-sleeved, white silk shirt open nearly to the waist. His dark hair was tousled casually over his forehead and his green eyes were bent intently on her as she sat quietly watching him from the tub. She began to have some familiar curling sensations deep in the pit of her stomach as they stared at each other like this for several moments. He was, oh, so impossibly handsome, and she wanted him, oh, so very much. Christie felt very vulnerable just then.

"Well," drawled Garrett, still grinning. "You finally got your bath! I thought I heard sounds of ecstasy coming from in here."

"I feel like an absolute hedonist," giggled Christie as she regained some of her former composure. "And I don't care, either!"

She had picked up a bar of scented soap and was lavishly working her sponge over it. Suddenly, it popped through her fingers and slithered across the floor.

"Ahh, just the excuse I needed!" Garrett grinned, retrieving the soap. Then he walked over to her until he was standing in front of the tub. "Your soap, madam," he said, bowing politely and handing it to her.

As he raised his head, his eyes went carefully over her entire body, and there was no mistaking their look as he continued to grin roguishly at her.

Flushing, Christie took the soap and began scrubbing furiously at her knee.

Her husband laughed softly as he lifted one foot
and placed it on the rim of the tub.

"I really came to deliver a message from your father. It just arrived this morning."

"From Father? What does he say?"

"Nothing I can tell you right now. The letter was addressed to me because it's about a surprise for you. I'm to tell you only to meet me at the stables near Thunder's stall as soon as you can. Then I'm permitted to tell you more. Of course," he grinned, "if you're going to sit here in your bath all day ... I suppose it can wait until some other time."

"Garrett Randall, that's the worst form of teasing!" pouted Christie. "

"I couldn't resist," admitted Garrett as he reached forward to wipe a bit of lather off the tip of her nose.

"I'll be there in an hour." Christie grinned. "Is it a really nice surprise? Will it be worth cutting short my bath?"

Her husband smiled, once again struck by the myriad sources of delight he obtained from this complex, winsome female he had married. Here she sat, looking, God knows, the image of quintessential womanhood, testing every facet of his resistance not to rush things and take her here, this very minute, and yet at the same time sounding and looking very much like a child, eyes wide, innocent face hopeful, as she begged for hints to a fond parent's surprise.

"Meet me at Thunder's stall and find out," he said. "One hour from now," he added, turning to go. "Oh, and enjoy your bath."

Less than an hour later, Christie hurried down the walk to the stables, shaking her head in the warm spring sunshine in an attempt to complete the drying
of her hair. It was a warm day for late April,
and she
wore a light cotton dress that was a soft shade of
a
rose, and was trimmed with bits of ribbon in a deeper shade of the same color. She nearly bubbled
over in
her excitement over the day, bowing to a chipmunk in her path, blowing a kiss to a foraging robin, stopping to take a spin on the path, arms akimbo, all just to use up some of the effervescent energy she felt inside.

In the distance Garrett stopped for a moment as he was about to enter the stable, and watched her.

"She gives me joy, just to look at her," he thought. "Joy ... in truth, I think I'm just beginning to discover the meaning of the word." Then he went inside to await her arrival.

Christie found him sitting on a large bale of hay that was part of a pile someone had pyramided in the empty box stall next to Thunder's. He sat lazily with his legs outstretched and crossed in front of him, his arms reaching casually out to either side as they rested on the bales behind him.

"Well, I'm on time," chirped Christie as she gave Thunder an affectionate pat on the nose and then a chunk of the sugar she had taken from the summer kitchen on her way over. "Now, what's my surprise?"

Chuckling at her eagerness, Garrett decided to avoid the temptation to tease her by holding out for a while. Her ebullient mood was too delightful to spoil.

"When you were in labor, and in such danger, your father made himself a promise that if you came through it safely, he would do anything to make you happy, fulfill any desire you might have. Later, during your recovery, he ascertained, in a conversation with Lula and Laughing Bear, that the brave has ways of gentling any horse, even a stallion on the scent of a mare. And so, in his letter he asked me to tell you that you may go ahead and breed Thunder." "Oh, Garrett! That's wonderful!" cried Christie. "It
is
a nice surprise," she trilled, stepping up on the bale of hay next to him in her exuberance. "I almost can't believe it—think of the potential!"

She began to climb to the next bale in the pile, her excitement rising and also preventing her from realizing the move was precarious, for the bale began to tip, at which her footing started to slip beneath her and she stuck out her arms for balance.

Garrett caught the movement and reached out an arm to steady her, but her loss of balance was complete by then, and, careening forward, she fell onto her husband's chest and they both landed on the hay-strewn floor while Christie squealed and, once he was assured she was unharmed, Garrett laughed. They remained thus for several seconds, mirthful and slightly breathless, lying side by side-^en the stable floor. Then the laughter died down, and Christie saw him rise up to look at her. His look grew, gaining in intensity by the second, his green eyes searching hers. Her own breathing became slow, hesitant, as she felt her throat grow tight, and a dizzy weakness invade her limbs; her lips parted in expectation.

Then Garrett took his hands and carefully held her head and bent to find her mouth. The kiss began slowly, tenderly, as it had the night in her chamber, but soon it caught the desire, they both felt and became something more. His hands moved down to

her shoulders as he pushed her gently into the hay; his mouth moved with more intensity over hers now. Christie's arms went around his neck almost hungrily as she pushed her body up to meet his in eager fashion, returning his kiss with unreserved passion. She felt his hands move to her breasts, and a stirring in her loins came simultaneously with the sensation if pressure she felt from his manhood as it pressed against her trembling thighs. Garrett felt the blood rushing in his ears while he wound his arms tightly about her.

At that moment the stable door banged open, and Clarence's voice cut the air.

"I saw him coming down here, sir."

With a growl, Garrett released Christie and was about to yell an order for the groom to be gone when he heard Jesse's voice.