Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) (22 page)

"Hey, Boss." Ally's
voice stopped Garrett cold as she pushed the barn door open behind him.
"What's going on?"

Biting back an expletive, Garrett
buttoned his shirt while Ally grinned at him. "One of the colts had some
trouble but Christie got him straightened out." He looked at his watch,
then took a closer look at Ally. Something looked out of place but he couldn’t
put his finger on it. "Everything okay with you? You’re here early this
morning."

Ally entered the barn.

"Me? Right as rain," she
said breezily. "On the other hand, you and Christie ..." He ignored
her sly grin. "Maybe I should have waited a while to come inside. That’s
probably why Sam was loitering outside, acting like he was busy." She
flipped her hand and indicated the door. "I can leave again, you
know."

Garrett gave Ally a narrowed eyed
glance and began filling the grain buckets. Did everyone know he had feelings
for Christie? He stopped what he was doing for a moment. Did it matter?

He ran a quick hand through his
hair, then resumed filling the buckets with grain. After a moment Ally joined
him and began to measure out grain and supplements.

"By the way," she said
casually, "I saw Randy at Myrt’s coffee shop earlier. He said he might
swing by today."

"This morning? I thought he
was doing undercover work all week?"

"He’s trying out the
nine-to-five shift. Can you imagine Randy in a nine-to-five job?" Ally’s
amusement seemed at odds with the seriousness in her eyes.

"Maybe, but who knows?"
Garrett lifted a brow. "Maybe he’s ready to settle into a regular
routine."

Ally hefted a bucket of grain and
tossed him a look of disbelief. "Yeah, and pink rabbits fly. See you
later, Boss."

Garrett smiled, and finally
realized what was different about Ally. Her flannel shirt was crooked and the
entire shirt was two button holes off. No big deal, he thought, unless you were
the neat and precise Ally with never a button out of place. Interesting. He
just hoped his brother was serious this time.

Garrett gave the stairs to
Christie’s apartment one last look and wondered if it would have been such a
big mistake to have followed her. Luckily or not, the moment had passed. Sanity
was once more firmly in place.

###

Later that evening Christie heard
footsteps on the stairs leading to her apartment. She looked up from the
T-shirts she was folding. Albert, lapping up a small bowl of water, scooted
outside just as Randy came to stand in her open doorway. Wearing a big grin, he
knocked on the wood trim. "Hey, Christie, are you busy?"

"Hi, Randy." With a
smile, she indicated the pile of clean clothes. "Nothing important. What’s
going on?"

"I stopped to pick up Hannah
-- we’re going to a movie tonight. I brought some homemade ice cream. Have you
ever had it? It’s nothing like what you buy in the store."

Christie was intrigued by the
idea. "Never tried it, but I’d love to."

He stepped back. "Come on
down, I put it in Garrett’s freezer."

"Oh, okay. Is your brother
around?" She asked casually. She hadn’t seen him since early that morning.
She’d done her best to detour around him all day, hoping to let some of the
heat settle down between them.

"He’s at the house. I told
him I was inviting you. By the way, you haven’t seen Ally, have you?"

"Not since she left at
five." Christie smiled at him. "I think she likes you."

Behind Randy’s smile lurked a
tinge of anxiety. "Sometimes it’s hard to tell."

Christie pressed her lips
together, then moved forward to stand in front of Randy. "She does, but
she’s been hurt bad."

He looked surprised. "What do
you know about it?"

Christie shrugged. "Not much,
really. Just that the guy she was married to had an eye for the ladies."

Randy leaned back against the
doorframe and rested his head against the wood. "I’m still trying to
convince her I’m not him."

Christie just looked at him
sympathetically.

He straightened. "I won’t
deny I like women, but deep down I’m just like any other guy. I want to settle
with one woman."

"You don’t have to convince
me," she said gently.

"Right. Listen, I have to run
but maybe I’ll see you later."

"I appreciate you thinking of
me. I’ll be down as soon as I finish folding. Have fun at the movies!" she
called out as he hurried down the stairs.

Christie put her folded laundry
away ten minutes later and as she left the barn she wondered if Garrett minded
Randy inviting her for ice cream.

The kitchen light was on in the
house. Opening the door, she came face to face with Garrett. His hair was dark
and slicked back and the fresh scent of soap clung to him. Christie’s cheeks
heated as she remembered their earlier encounter and the sexual energy that had
snapped between them. "Hi Garrett."

"I was just coming to see if
Randy invited you over. I can’t eat all that ice cream by myself," he
joked, touching his midsection. Christie’s glance was drawn to his flat stomach
and lingered there. "I have to be careful. I have a tendency to go crazy
on sweets."

Relaxing, amused, Christie said,
"Welcome to the club."

He held the door open and she
ducked under his arm. "Nothing going on tonight?" he asked.

She smiled slightly. "Nope.
Right now my social life is quiet, though Ally and Buddy have promised me a
night on the town this weekend. I’m kind of looking forward to it."

"Buddy’s taken a liking to
you."

"He’s a nice guy. I’ve been
helping him with a research paper."

"You’re a jack of all trades,
aren’t you?"

She shrugged. "I have a lot
of interests. One thing I wanted to mention is I feel like I’m making some
headway with Hannah."

"I agree. Just go slow."

She lifted a brow, studying him
closely. "You look worried. I’d never hurt her."

"Not intentionally. But I
think you're a woman who’s had some tough breaks."

"Who hasn’t? You know Judith
did, and you’ve had your problems." Knowing this could get too serious,
she said jokingly, "What’s your solution?"

"Maybe you need something to
make you forget what’s haunting you."

A tight lump formed in her throat.
"Sounds like you're suggesting an affair."

"Sorry, that was out of
line," he said awkwardly.

Christie met his eyes directly.
"I admire honesty, so don’t apologize. But you did catch me by
surprise."

"Not everyone appreciates
plain speaking," he said gruffly, pulling open cabinet doors. "Since
we’re on the subject of plain speaking, I’ve been wondering if you can stay
longer than we planned. The doctor’s reassessed the break to Kim’s ankle. Looks
like the cast won’t be off for an additional three weeks."

Christie ran her tongue over dry
lips. "I’ve already been here almost two weeks."

"Think about it." He
opened the chest freezer and lifted out a large brown container. "It’ll
take me a few minutes to get this ice cream out. If you want, go relax in the
living room and put on some music. There’s a bunch of CD’s on the
shelves."

"Sounds like a good
idea." Christie left Garrett in the kitchen. She needed the breathing
space. He’d asked her to stay longer.

As she crossed the living room her
interest was caught by the pictures lining the fireplace mantle. In one picture
Garrett straddled a dirt bike, his hair disheveled as if he’d just lifted the
helmet from his head. His wide daredevil grin hinted at a different man than
the one she knew. Another picture showed an older man with his arm around a
slim, blond-haired woman. The man and Garrett shared a striking resemblance,
the same lean cheeks and deep, piercing eyes. It had to be his father so
perhaps the woman was his mother.

Christie saw various photographs
of Hannah with family members, but Christie didn’t see any of Garrett and her
sister.

Christie looked through Garrett’s
extensive collection of CDs. Not familiar with country music, she randomly
chose several CDs and put them in the player.

Opening the French doors, she
stepped onto the terrace. The setting was romantic; warm breeze, muted light, a
soft rustling in the brush. Sinking into a comfortable wicker rocker, she
stifled a sigh, admitting she didn't know much about romance. Her experience
had been limited to a brief engagement six years ago. She’d been young and
Allen, her fiancé, had been shallow. An up and coming lawyer, he lived and
breathed his work in the district attorney’s office, so much so that her
background had ultimately gotten in the way of their future as he saw it. His
ambition wouldn’t let him have anyone in his life who was less than perfect;
whose family was still far from perfect.

The past. . .vaguely, Christie
heard the slight creak, back and forth, of her chair. For the moment, she felt
incredibly content. . ..

"Christie." Garrett’s
voice sounded close to her ear.

Christie turned her head and
looked directly into Garrett’s blue eyes, his aftershave a pleasant, spicy
scent. The man was too good looking for a woman’s peace of mind. Just being
near him gave rise to fantasies galore.

"Ice cream?"

Blankly, she looked at the bowl he
held out, then took it. It was filled with dark chocolate ice cream.
"Mmm," she said, sitting up straight. Lifting her spoon, she licked
off a large dollop of chocolate, her breath stopping for an instant as she
noticed him watching her eat. "Delicious," she confirmed, licking the
corner of her mouth where the creamy ice cream had dripped.

Garrett touched his fingertip to
her lips, then slowly brought that finger to his mouth and licked off the
chocolate she’d missed.

Christie quickly swallowed a spoonful
of ice cream, stifling a groan as it went right to her head. Immediately, she
put her hand to her forehead. "Brain freeze," she moaned, laughing.

"Listen," he said. The
music drifted from the living room, a slow, sad song about a woman crazy in love
with a man. There was a sensual feel to the music, wrapping Christie up in the
words and the tone of the song.

"We have to dance to
this." Garrett’s voice sounded almost reverent. "Patsy Cline is
singing ‘Crazy’."

The words were sad, evocative,
touching something elemental inside Christie. Garrett held his hand out to her,
palm up. Without thinking twice, Christie put her bowl on a small table and
placed her palm in his, feeling the calloused texture of his skin, his large
hand engulfing hers. Garrett coaxed her closer and he dipped his head toward
her.

Snapping out of her trance-like
state, Christie pulled back. "I’ve never danced to country music."

"It’s only the two of
us," he admonished. "I know you can dance."

"It’s not that I can’t
--" she admitted.

Garrett’s laugh was soft, mocking.
"Follow me."

His feet moved into a two-step as
he guided her other hand to his shoulder. "Your feet are moving, Christie.
Don’t hold back."

Don’t hold back. Her feet fell
into step with his, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Just feel it," he
whispered.

She followed his lead as they
danced slowly, the music winding around them, the night quiet and the flagstone
smooth under their feet. Christie felt as if she had danced this intimately
with Garrett before.

When the music ended, the spell
still hovered. Christie breathed deeply of the night fragrances, staring at
Garrett.

"I wonder how I’ve lived my
entire life without knowing you. Just being here at the farm makes me realize
another side of life. It’s been an incredible adventure." A new tightness
grew in her chest. "How can I leave you and Hannah?" She almost felt
dependent upon them, as if they’d become vital to her. She had thought in the
last months she was too frozen up inside, too numb from loss to care again, but
now she was thinking about staying longer. When the flame between them burned
out she would have no choice but to leave.

"Maybe you don’t have to
leave." Garrett slowly released her, let his fingers slip down her wrist,
trail gently to her elbow. With a sensual shiver, Christie lowered her hand to
her side and stepped back. She dropped her other hand from his shoulder and
rubbed her elbow where it still tingled.

"Thank you for the
dance." The words spilled from her too fast. She felt incredibly shaky and
uncertain. How did one reach this stage in life, twenty-six years of age,
without knowing the proper protocol to end a dance...to end an awkward,
sexually charged moment? They had shared an intimate dance, and she wanted to
curl around him and let him absorb her soul. She’d never wanted to give herself
into someone else’s keeping, the very thought had always terrified her. Yet,
when she looked at Garrett, she wanted him to do things to her she couldn’t
even fathom.

Christie looked around the terrace,
her brain somewhat fuzzy. "Well, goodnight, Garrett." Feeling elated
and let down at the same time, Christie backed away.

"You didn't finish your ice
cream."

"I don't think I can eat any
more."

"I’ll walk you to the
barn," he said, his voice steady, unruffled. Resentment filled Christie.
Was she the only one suffering uncertainty?

"I’ll find my way!" she
declared, hating the emptiness inside. Blindly, she stepped off the terrace.
"I know the barn is around the corner of the house and to the right."

"I have a flashlight."
Garrett caught up with her easily, shining the light on the ground at their
feet. "I always keep one on the terrace."

"You’re practical,"
Christie said, needing to speak, wanting to push back the intimacy that still
held her in its grip. "Not me. Sometimes I’m as scatterbrained as they
come." She gave a soft laugh. "Even Hannah’s more organized than I
am. Her dolls are all in order, lined up by height and hair color." She
let her voice trail off, knowing she was talking too much. "I like her,"
she added. "At times I’m not sure the feeling is returned."