Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) (23 page)

"She’s beginning to like
you," he said, "though I’ll admit I don’t always understand an
eight-year-old. Sometimes her moods swing between amazing clarity and then
petulance."

Christie’s heart went out to him.
"Keep showing her you love her." The stone gravel crunched under
their feet as they reached the barn entrance. "That’s all she really
wants. See you tomorrow." She didn’t want the evening to end. She wanted
soft words and intimate caresses. Moonlight whisperings and musky-scented
sheets.

Christie pulled her hand free of
Garrett’s and scooted around him, but he put his hand against the door,
preventing her from slipping inside. Christie’s heart pounded so hard he surely
must hear it.

Swallowing hard, she stared up at
his silhouette. "What do you want, Garrett?" With the aid of the
overhead security lights she could see him looking down at her.

"More than I should," he
admitted in a low voice, his hand feathering along her cheek. "Probably
more than I deserve." Christie turned her face into his caress, craving
his touch.

His head lowered, his mouth
touched hers, hot, hard, everything she wanted in that moment. Christie gave
herself totally up to the sensation of Garrett’s mouth on hers. Garrett’s chest
pressed against her breasts and his hips were against hers, creating an ache
Christie couldn’t deny. She wrapped her arms around his waist, running her
hands down his back, feeling the ripple of muscle.

Christie dipped her forehead against
his shoulder, gulping in huge drafts of night air, feeling like she’d run for
miles. Her entire body ached. Slowly, Garrett pulled away. Christie leaned back
against the door and wrapped her arms around herself.

"If I stay longer, things
will get complicated," he said harshly. He appeared as affected by the
kiss as she was.

"You’re right. We don’t want
complications!" she snapped. Christie slipped inside, frustration and hurt
driving her up the stairs to her apartment. Why had he kissed her, made her
want him and then walked away? She felt twisted up inside, honest enough to
admit she’d wanted the night to end differently. She had wanted to take a risk.
The risk of loving Garrett McIntyre, a man so different from everything she was
used to. She was inviting only heartache. She had this deep down feeling that a
part of him still belonged to Judith.

Christie heard a roar from far off
as she and Hannah lay on their towels beside the small pond. The last several
days had seen a continuation of the searing heat. When Ruth suggested they go
swimming, Christie realized it was the perfect way to relax on her day off.
Hannah was excited when she asked her to come along and it had been an
opportunity for them to get to know each other better. Of course, she’d also
had plenty of time to wonder why Garrett had been making himself scarce in the
last two days.

The swimming hole was located in a
bit of a hollow a fair distance behind the house, shaded by trees on one side.
She and Hannah had spent an idyllic afternoon taking dips in the small pond.
The manmade pond was fed by a stream that wound its way across the fields. When
Sam had dropped them off here earlier, she had fallen in love with its
quaintness.

Christie could hear the sound
coming closer. It sounded like a motorcycle. "Hannah, let’s get everything
packed together."

Hannah lay curled up on her towel
like a lazy kitten. "I want to swim some more."

Christie gently tugged one of
Hannah’s ponytails. "Two minutes ago you looked ready to fall asleep. Time
to go home," she said firmly. "Sam will be here soon to give us a
ride."

The roar grew louder, more
menacing. Christie stood, a strange prickling zinging up her spine.
"What’s that noise?"

Hannah sat up and they both looked
toward the top of the hill that led to the house. A rider on a bike was
approaching down the narrow dirt track they’d used to get here. "That’s
Daddy!" Hannah exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "Daddy has his dirt
bike out."

The rider approached at a fast
pace. From this distance Christie wasn’t sure it was Garrett. "Maybe it’s
Randy," she murmured.

"No, that’s Daddy’s red
helmet."

Fascinated, Christie watched as
man and bike seemed to fly over a small hill. She held her breath until the
bike landed safely on the ground, then closed the space between them quickly.

With a slide and the hiss of tires
on gravel, the bike came to a halt about fifteen yards away from them. The
rider, dressed entirely in black, put out long, jean clad legs to straddle the
machine, the helmet's black-visor hiding his face. Excitement gripped Christie.
She wanted to confirm for herself that beneath the dark visor was Garrett, but
a Garrett she had only suspected existed.

###

Garrett allowed his gaze to sweep
Christie's slim legs. Cut off shorts, slightly tanned belly and creamy breasts
overflowed a skimpy bikini top. Garrett swallowed hard, fumbling with the
chinstrap of his helmet.

Balancing his bike, he cut the
engine and lifted the helmet from his head. Pushing his fingers through his
hair, he hung the helmet on the handlebar by the chin strap.

"Garrett!" Christie’s
voice vibrated through him. He looked over to see the awareness of him in her
eyes. Sensual tension snapped between them.

"Daddy!" Hannah said
excitedly. "You told me you don’t ride anymore."

Garrett threw his leg over the
bike, knocked the kickstand in place and moved toward them. He lifted Hannah in
the air. "I do today, sweetheart." He placed her back on the ground.

"That was some
entrance."

Garrett turned to Christie. Her
glance measured him from head to toe and Garrett felt as if she’d touched him.
Mouth dry, he thought of the places he’d like her to touch.

"Daddy, I want a ride,"
Hannah said.

"You’re a brave kid,"
Christie said to Hannah. "After seeing your dad ride in here, I don't know
if I'd want to ride with him."

Garrett gave Christie a smile that
matched his wicked mood. "We'd have one heck of a ride, Christie."

Her eyes widened at his challenge.
She moved closer to the bike. "I didn’t know you could ride these on the
grass like that."

Garrett stood on the opposite side
of the bike. "It’s a dirt bike, built for this type of riding. It’s not
street legal." He patted the bike’s handle grip, the gesture affectionate.
"At one point my father just about disowned me. When I was younger I was in
constant trouble for spooking our neighbor's cows with one of these."

Christie regarded him laughingly.
"You've piqued my interest. You were in trouble with the law?" He
read the skepticism on her face.

"Is that so hard to
believe?"

"Maybe not," she said
with a small grin.

Garrett looked away, certain every
muscle in his body had come to attention. He was dirty from tinkering with the
bike and his fingers still bore traces of grease, but here he was with his mind
stuck on Christie and how he’d like to put her on the back of the bike and take
her somewhere for some long, hot kisses ...

"Daddy, I want a ride."

Jerked back into the present,
Garrett took note of Hannah’s slightly flushed cheeks. "Not tonight. You
look like you’ve had a full day. I wouldn’t be surprised if you fall asleep at
the dinner table."

"Sam’s coming for us."
Christie rolled up the wet towels and pulled on a shirt and shorts over her
bathing suit. Slipping her feet into her sneakers, she leaned down to tie them.

Garrett looked back along the road
as a cloud of dust rose. "Here he is now."

"Hannah, you’re tired and
should ride back with Sam. I’m going back a different way so I’ll see you
later," Christie said.

"Are you going to pick those
flowers we saw? I can help." Hannah opened her mouth on a big yawn.

Christie laughed and hugged
Hannah, surprising Garrett with the easy camaraderie that had developed between
them. Knowing his daughter’s swing in emotions, he wondered if it would last.

When Sam arrived in Garrett’s
pickup truck they walked over to meet him. If he was surprised to see Garrett
he didn’t say so, but helped them gather the girls’ small picnic basket and
blankets. "Ruth said to tell you dinner will be on in about an hour. She
said don’t be late."

"Thanks, Sam. Will you be
joining us tonight?" Garrett asked, waiting for Hannah to climb into the
truck seat.

"Yeah. I guess I’ve been
invited." Sam smiled. "You know Ruth, she made up her mind we all
have to try that new gazpacho or some such thing she made."

"She’s got us all spoiled
with her cooking."

Christie stowed her towel in the
back of the truck, then looked up at the sky. "I’m going on a short hike,
Sam, so I’ll be walking back."

"There’s wild dogs in the
area," Garrett said. "It isn’t a good idea for you to roam on your
own."

Sam nodded agreement.

"Randy shot one at Clarey’s
farm down the road just the other day," Garrett said. "It was sick
and looked rabid. I could give you a ride."

The thought of her legs straddling
the seat behind him, her arms tight around his waist ...

She looked at his bike. "I
don’t know -- the way you drove in here --"

"I’d never put you in
jeopardy. It would be a short ride."

She hesitated, then said,
"Okay."

Garrett turned to Sam. "Go
ahead and take Hannah to the house." He looked at his daughter. "Make
sure you tell Ruth you’re back."

"Okay, Daddy." She
looked disappointed, but surprisingly made no argument. Sam wore a grin as he
got into the truck and with a wave drove away.

Garrett straddled the bike and
turned the key, revving the engine. Un-strapping the other helmet he held it
out to her. "Get on."

From the moment she climbed on the
seat behind him his backside was branded by the feel of her sun-warm bare legs.
Looking down he saw her sneakers and slim ankles behind his own jean clad legs
and steel toe boots.

He revved the motor.
"Sneakers aren’t the best idea on a dirt bike!" he yelled above the
motor. "Keep your legs away from that exhaust pipe." He reached down
to slide his hand down her leg, repositioning it away from the pipe. He liked its
slim smoothness. "Ready?" he said. She tightened her legs until he
felt the clench of her thigh muscles against him.

Shit.

Garrett stared straight ahead,
giving himself a minute to get used to the feel of her pressed up against him,
then realized it would take a lot longer than a minute. "Ready?" he
asked again, hoarsely.

She nodded her head vigorously,
her face framed by the black helmet, her eyes sparkling and excited.

Garrett moved the bike across the
gravel and onto the uneven ground of the pasture.

Christie’s arms hugged him, her
palms flat against his stomach as her breasts pressed into his back. She
wriggled to get comfortable and when he thought he couldn’t stand any more, she
finally stopped moving. Garrett felt as if she was wound all around him.

Gritting his teeth, he
concentrated on the terrain before them.

They hadn’t gone far when Christie
nudged him. He stopped the bike and her hold loosened, then she climbed off the
bike.

She flung her arms out in
uninhibited joy. "Garrett, this field is gorgeous. I can’t believe it’s
been under my nose all this time."

Bemused, he watched her run over
to a bright patch of flowers and start picking blossoms. Christie ran back
toward him and stuck the makeshift bouquet in his face. "Smell
these." Cautiously, he looked for bees. She laughed at him. "Come on,
it won’t hurt."

"It will if a bee stings my
nose," he grumbled, but he couldn’t hold back a smile. She looked so
happy. When he was certain there weren’t any bees, he smelled the flowers.
"I never paid much attention to flowers. They smell nice."

"I love flowers. They have
such a unique color and scent. Ellen adored them, she said they made her feel
better. I used to fill her room whenever I could." Her mood turned somber
and he noticed tears hanging on her lashes. "There was a florist around
the corner from our apartment. He used to send over the flowers that were
beginning to get old."

Garrett felt like a fist closed
around his throat. "Give it time," he said awkwardly.

Christie looked at her bouquet,
the stems crushed and the flowers hanging limply. Without a word she dropped
the mangled bunch and climbed back on the bike.

"Christie --"

She shook her head. "It’s
okay." She put the helmet back on and pressed against his back. Garrett
started the bike and headed them in the direction of home. He didn’t know what
to say to her.

Once more at the house, he left
Christie at the barn and she gave him a subdued smile. He had an unsettled
feeling in his gut as he walked into the house. In the kitchen he found Ruth bent
over the stove as she lifted a loaf of bread from the oven.

"Smells great," he said.
"How long before dinner?"

"About thirty minutes."

"I’ll be right back," he
said. On his way back out the door he pulled a section of yesterday’s newspaper
from the recycled pile.

Climbing on his bike, Garrett rode
back to the field. He looked at all the flowers, then bent down and picked a
yellow one. The petals were small and fragile against his rough hands. He’d
never thought much about flowers, their structure or the beauty that made each
one different. Garrett thought Christie was like a flower. Intricate and
complex. He was curious what was below the surface. If he peeled the layers,
what would he find? Would she break if he pushed too hard? The more he got to
know her, the less she seemed like Judith. Fragile, tempestuous Judith.

He picked another flower, a large
yellow one with a deep brown center. He picked more until he had a big handful
of different colors and sizes. He hoped this would make up for the flowers that
had been ruined.