Christie (37 page)

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One hot and sunny afternoon Garrett found himself at the house without any work at hand after lunch. He and Jesse had spent the morning seeing to the unloading of the last of some supplies they had ordered for the next planting of rice, during the course of which it was discovered they were missing an important part of the shipment. The item, a new plow, was sorely needed, since the blade of one of their old ones had been broken recently when it met with a large rock that had been washed afield during a heavy winter rainstorm; the rock had been obscured from view by a succeeding mud slide that had partially covered one end of the southernmost rice field. Since it was assumed this new plow had been inadvertently left behind on the dock in Charleston— they had gotten word from their overseer, Andrew Taylor, that the crew which had seen to the unloading of the ship had been composed of several inexperienced men—Jesse had volunteered to make the trip to the city to recover it, suggesting with a broad grin and a wink that his brother make use of the time he would be gone by spending it with his wife in "some recreation or other."

So Garrett and Christie had shared a quiet lunch
together in the shaded garden before Christie had gone upstairs to feed Adam while Garrett spoke to Taylor about some final preparations for the rice planting.

As she was near finishing her task, Garrett came into the nursery, glad he had not entirely missed seeing her nurse their son, for this had become one of the growing number of small, intimate kinds of moments he delighted in sharing with his wife lately. He walked over to the rocker where Christie was sitting, meeting her warm smile with one of his own before planting a light kiss on the tip of her straight little nose.

"How'd you like to join me for a ride this afternoon, love?" he asked, fingering a lock of her silky hair as it curled over one dainty shoulder. "There's a spot I'd like to take you to; it's been a favorite of mine since I was a boy. I think you might enjoy seeing it with me."

She was always hungry to share bits and pieces of her husband's earlier life, those experienced by Garrett before she had known him. They were seen by her as tiny obstacles to her present joyful commitment to become as close to this man she loved as she possibly could, and so Christie responded eagerly.

"Oh, Garrett, I'd love it! There's so much of your life I still know very little about, and I'm afraid I've become jealous of every experience you've ever had that didn't include me—the pleasurable ones, anyway."

Garrett grinned at her in feigned wickedness.

"There were
some
pleasurable moments, sweet, I'd
just as soon you
didn't
know of," he teased, but then, seeing the wide-eyed look of beginning disappointment on her face, he quickly added, "but, in all truth, Christie, that which I now regard as pleasure really never began until I knew you."

Christie then flashed him that wide, beguiling smile he'd come to adore, causing Garrett to ponder whether, indeed, he had ever really even been alive before he met her.

"Madam, if you dazzle me any more with such smiles and looks, I'm afraid we'll never make it beyond our bedchamber doors this afternoon." He grinned.

Christie blushed deeply and smiled at him as she rose with the babe, who had fallen peacefully asleep at her breast.

"I'll leave Adam with Lula and take only a few minutes to change," she said almost shyly, causing her husband to chuckle lightly as he marveled at the delightful mixture of elements in his wife's make-up that rendered her

simultaneously a competent mother of almost two months, a passionate bedmate whenever he desired her, which was most of the time, he noted happily, and yet still the blushing near virgin, as now, so new was her experience there. He was pondering these last thoughts, taking great pleasure in contemplating how fond he was of initiating Christie into the art of pleasing him in bed, when she reappeared from her dressing room, dressed in a pair of newly tailored riding breeches and a lightweight shirt that resembled the one he wore himself.

Eying with much appreciation the slender figure she presented as she took his arm, he led his young
wife out to the stables.

They had been riding at a leisurely pace for about twenty minutes, with Thunder and Jet for once seemingly not at odds with each other, when they came to a large stand of woods that lay in a northeasterly direction from the big house.

"It's just a little further," said Garrett, urging the big black to a quicker pace as they entered the woods.

There they traveled what seemed to Christie to be an old bridle trail, partially obscured by some lush new undergrowth brought on by the early spring rains.

Suddenly they came to a secluded clearing where the trees parted to reveal a large, deep pool of clear, rippling water. Here Garrett stopped and turned to look at her.

Christie gasped slightly as she saw it, for she was at once reminded of another place with such a body of water—her swimming pool at Windreach!

"Why, Garrett, it's so lovely, and it looks a lot like—"

"Exactly," he said, smiling softly at her. "So now maybe you know why I took the time to stop and swim that day at Windreach."

He had dismounted and was tethering Jet to a tree nearby. Then he tied Thunder well out of Jet's reach.

"Your
old swimming place reminded me of
my
old swimming place," he said as he helped her down from Thunder. "I couldn't resist trying it out. I've swum in this pool since I first learned how, although
not always alone. I taught Jess to swim here when he was six or seven."

He had taken her hand and was leading her toward the water's edge.

"The main difference between this and that pool of yours, as I determine it, is that yours is supplied by an underground spring while this one's mountain-fed," he said.

He gestured at the small downhill trickle of water that did, indeed, come from a steep incline Christie now noticed rose sharply behind the trees on the opposite side from where they stood. "Of course, they're equally icy, no matter what the time of year," he added.

"Yes," she said, in sudden sternness, "and it only now comes to me, exactly what occurred the last time I felt the chill of the water in my pool."

She placed both hands on her hips as she frowned at her husband in mock anger.

Garrett's face broke into a broad grin as he began to back away from her, throwing up his hands in pretended fear.

"Now, love, surely you're not going to be blaming me all over again for something that happened so many months ago!" he said, taking another step backward.

Christie watched as his step took him precariously near to the edge of the pool and a mischievous gleam entered her turquoise eyes.

"Garrett Randall, you were perfectly wretched to me that day, and you know it," she retorted, thrusting out her lower lip in indignation. "It would
serve you right if I were to return part of that favor right now and—"

She pushed out at him with both hands, meaning to pretend to shove him backward as a tease, but somehow she lost her balance, and her hands went out with more weight behind them than she had intended, sending her surprised husband tumbling backward into the icy water.

But Garrett was not nearly as surprised as Christie by what she had accidently accomplished, and as she saw him hit the water, her two hands flew to her open, astonished mouth. When he rose, sputtering, to the surface with a threatening frown on his face, she hurriedly began to try to explain her innocence of intent in the matter.

"Garrett, it was an accident, darling; I swear it. I only meant to
pretend
to push you. I'd never—
oh, no!
Garrett..."

Her words trailed off as she beheld her wet and fierce-looking husband climbing out of the water and heading straight for her with menace in his eyes.

With a shriek, she turned to scramble away from him, but he dove after her, and with a flying leap, brought her swiftly to the grassy earth, growling loudly at her. They wrestled there for a moment before Garrett completely overpowered his protesting wife, finally managing to haul her, bottom upward, across his lap.

By this time Christie realized the position she was in, and her protests became outraged shouts of indignation.

"Garrett, no! Not again! You
can't!
I'm your wife! And a—a mother! Garrett, please!"

But as she wriggled in his grasp amid all this protest, she missed seeing the merry twinkle in her husband's eyes, and it was several seconds before it dawned on her that all he was doing was sitting there with one hand placed firmly, but gently, upon her squirming buttocks, making no move to accomplish the assault she had been expecting on that curving part of her anatomy. Finally, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. There he was, looking at her with a queer, tender smile on his face.

Then he proceeded to turn her over gently until he held her, sitting, on his lap, and, for a long, long moment sat looking deeply, lovingly, into her bewildered eyes. At last he brought his mouth down on hers in a long, lingering kiss that was both tender and sensual. Christie melted into his arms immediately, as she thrilled to a curling sensation deep inside her, and she knew it would be a matter of seconds before the magical fires would be rekindled for both of them.

Finally Garrett released her lips, but his strong arms continued their warm embrace of her tingling body.

"I'm sorry I couldn't resist teasing you like that, love, but I also did it to demonstrate something to you," he said warmly.

Christie looked at him with a soft question in her loving eyes, and Garrett placed his finger gently under her small chin, tilting her face upward to look directly at his. "Actually, there are three things I mean to convey by this display," he said. "First, I want you to know that this is what I
ought
to have done that day at Windreach. If, instead of spanking
you, I had only taken you in my arms, as now—as my instincts told me to do even then—we might not have had such a difficult time of it afterward."

He kissed her eyes softly as they gazed, half-closed and smiling, up at him.

"Secondly, but most important, know this: never again will I ever raise my hand in anger to you, Christie. I swear it, for you are everything to me, and I would sooner take my hand and strike a mortal blow to myself than touch you with anything but love. God, how I do love you!"

Pure bliss spread across Christie's face as she now regarded this man she loved with every breath in her.

"And the third thing you wished to show me?" she queried softly, a giddy weakness stealing over her.

Garrett's eyebrows drew together slightly, causing a delightfully boyish expression to mingle briefly with the overwhelming masculinity Christie felt pulsating through him, communicating itself readily to her, and she shivered as a shaft of delight shot through her when a broad grin played across his face and she read the desire in his eyes.

"I thought you could guess what that would be, Christie-love," he breathed huskily, and once more his mouth took hers in a kiss that now communicated a hungry passion so fierce, she grew dizzy with its demanding message. But Christie's recently awakened desires needed no prodding. Instantly she answered with her own torrid response. Her mouth opened eagerly under the onslaught of his tongue and her own darted lightly between his teeth. With a moan, Garrett rolled over onto the grassy carpet, pulling her on top of him; Christie felt his desire
rising, pressing through the dampness of his sodden breeches and her own. She raised her head and looked into his eyes, finding them dark green and passionate.

"I want you," she said simply, and with a low growl, he drew her fiercely to him again.

In seconds he had their clothes in a damp heap on the ground, and soon they were once more in each other's arms. They made love then, their passion building to a huge crescendo that broke in a twin climax of searing, flaming, soul-binding oneness before they began their floating, disembodied descent from the peaks of pleasure to the tender aftermath of sated joy.

The sun was low in the sky when they began to make their way back to the big house. They decided to continue their "remaking" of that earlier swimming-pool episode by sharing Thunder's saddle as they had before; and this time, when Christie felt Garrett's strong arms brushing against her breasts as he held her, she leaned lovingly into them, making pleased little noises in her throat, as Garrett nuzzled her neck and ear, whispering soft intimacies and love words to her.

They were riding this way for several minutes, taking their time together, when suddenly Thunder slowed his pace, flattening his ears and flaring his nostrils as he did so.

At that moment, a sharp sound cracked the air and a bullet whizzed past Garrett's left shoulder, touching the damp shirt he had casually slung over it.

Instantly Garrett was clutching Christie and
hurling them both off their mount and to the ground.

"Keep your head down!" he ordered. Then he crawled with her toward some undergrowth at the side of the narrow trail.

Another shot rang out, the bullet lodging in a tree above their heads, and both horses tore off down the path.

"Into the brush," Garrett whispered harshly, and Christie obeyed. Then she felt her husband's big body cover her own and they lay there, hardly daring to breathe.

Seconds passed. Then minutes. No further shots came.