Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) Read online

  He was curious about her arrival, traveling over the road. It just didn’t fit in with his idea of conventional travel. But then, she didn’t fit his idea of someone traveling alone with nothing more than a duffel bag. Every instinct told him nothing added up where she was concerned, and yet her unexpected arrival was similar to something Judith would have done. Inwardly, Garrett sighed. Again, he was back to comparing her with Judith.

  During dinner he’d considered all the alternatives as to where she could stay. With two men in the bunkhouse, staying there was out of the question. There was a room over the main barn, but right now that was in a major state of overhaul. He should have thought longer on this when he’d decided to hire her, but given the circumstances, he hadn’t felt like he’d had a lot of options. There was also the possibility that her story wouldn’t check out. . ..

  In all fairness, if she was Judith’s sister she had a right to know Hannah. But at what cost?

  Garrett studied her, the slim nose, full lips, blue-veined lids fanned by thick, sooty lashes. Her skin was light, almost translucent against her dark, dark hair. Judith had been blond and darker skinned and almost on eye level with him.

  "The days are pretty hot now," Garrett remarked casually to Christie. "I’ll have one of the girls set you up with a hat."

  "Thank you, but I don’t wear hats."

  "I don’t need anyone being hit by heat stroke. Not only would it be lost time, but I’ll be back to square one and short on help."

  "Of course. And I’m here to work." She smiled. "So I’ll wear a hat."

  "I know you have bingo tonight, Ruth, so I’ll take care of the dishes." He knew from past experience that Ruth would grumble for a week if she were late for bingo.

  "I do have bingo but Sam has been kind enough to offer me a ride, so I’m not dependent on Myrtle tonight."

  Sam? His foreman? Garrett hid his surprise. He couldn’t picture Sam, a man of few words, in a bingo hall with his tart-tongued housekeeper. Ruth had definite opinions on every topic imaginable and never hesitated to express those opinions. She’d certainly never held back sharing her wide and varied opinions with him.

  "Hannah needs a bath and I’ll be glad to see to that before I leave," Ruth added.

  Garrett smiled inwardly. Ruth might be cantankerous, but she loved Hannah like her own granddaughter. In that respect alone, she was invaluable to him. She doubled as a sitter when he couldn’t be there to take care of his daughter. Lately, he didn’t know what type of mischief Hannah might be up to and at times he worried about his childrearing skills. What if he made some drastic mistake that might ruin her?

  "Come on Hannah, time for a bath." Ruth urged Hannah from her chair.

  Hannah rolled her eyes but did as she was bid.

  "Ruth, dinner was delicious," Christie said.

  Ruth acknowledged the compliment with a slight incline of her head and left the room behind Hannah.

  "It’s a good thing I won’t be here long, I’d put on too much weight in a hurry." Christie sent a smile in his direction.

  Garrett lifted a brow and ran a quick glance over her. "You’ve got a long way to go before you get there," he observed dryly, then picked up his plate. Not really appropriate conversation between employer and employee.

  "I can stay in the cabin. I’m not bothered by dust," she told him firmly.

  "It’s only a one room cabin, and usually the boys stay in there, but they’re out of town on business right now." He sighed. "If it’s as bad as Ruth thinks it is, I may have to rethink this."

  He carried the plates to the dishwasher and then leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

  "So, Christie, where are you headed after stopping here?"

  Busy stacking silverware, Christie looked up with a guarded expression. "Nothing set in stone. Just traveling. Maybe up north." At his questioning look, she elaborated. "New York." She chewed her lip, a habit he had noticed before. "Didn’t Judith ever talk about where she was from?"

  "No."

  Christie stared at him, speculation in her eyes. "What would you say if I told you it’s probably because of the way we grew up? We didn’t have a model childhood."

  "I gathered that. Judith carried a certain wariness about her too, but she didn’t care what people thought. She didn’t always guard her words. You do."

  "Yes."

  "You don’t look much alike either."

  Christie stared down at the table. Finally, she looked up at him. "Judith had a different father, but I don’t know anything about him. My family was never real forthcoming about Judith. You were married to her --"

  "She wouldn’t talk about anything related to her past." Garrett looked away from her, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders and neck. "She insisted what mattered was the present."

  "I’ve often felt the same way." Christie rose from the table and carried dirty dishes over to the counter, then leaned back against it.

  Garrett stared at the darkening sky through the kitchen window. "By the time I met Judith, she’d already been out on her own going on four years."

  "She left home and I guess she never looked back." Christie didn’t blame her. She moved back to the table, picked up the remaining silverware and carried it to the dishwasher. She proceeded to wipe the table surface with a damp cloth. "You knew my sister a long time before you were married?"

  "We met when she was nineteen and then lost touch for a few years. When I got heavy into rodeo we crossed paths again and started dating." Garrett leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Let’s talk about you a minute. Do you have a job in New York? For some reason you don’t seem like a city girl to me."

  "Upstate New York. I took a leave of absence. The job will be there if I want it when I return."

  "One day you just decided to come to Kentucky?" His surprise crept into his voice. "It’s strange to me that you would just up and leave your life one day."

  "That’s a simplified version of it, but that’s what happened." She shrugged.

  "Nothing’s that simple. You seem more complicated than that."

  She swept her hair back away from her face, the gesture an indication of weariness. Her gaze connected with his. "Haven’t you ever done anything impulsive?"

  "Not in a long while." He told himself he was crazy. He had too much work to be worrying about Christie’s motives for showing up on his place, but he had to protect Hannah. Right now she could fill in at the barn. He needed someone . . . she needed work. Simple. He would be satisfied if she did a decent job in the barns.

  "It was time to connect with my sister. There’s nothing else I can say. Now if you’ll show me that cabin, I’ll get settled in."

  Resolutely, he turned to the door and Christie followed him outside and across the yard. The small cabin nestled up against tall evergreens about a hundred yards beyond the house. He pushed open the door, flicked the light and immediately stepped back as a gray kitten shot out the door.

  "Albert." They both said it together as the kitten disappeared in a flash. Garrett took one look inside the cabin, swore, then closed the door.

  "Forget it." He leaned back against the door.

  "Come on, it can’t be that bad."

  "I’m going to tear a strip off whoever left a window open. And yes, it can be that bad."

  Garrett grabbed her shoulders and turned her back the way they’d come, his expression grim. "You have to stay in the house." He turned and Christie hurried to keep up and he ignored her protests as they re-entered the kitchen.

  "I’ll show you where you can take care of your laundry. You’ll have your own room, which is just down the hallway. It has a small bathroom with a shower. You can get settled and start work tomorrow."

  He moved across the kitchen and hoisted her duffel bag onto his shoulder. "Are you sure I can't take you into town to the doctor? I think it would be a really good idea."

  "No, I'm fine."

  "Follow me." He walked to the opposite end
of the kitchen and entered the walk-in pantry. Garrett pushed open slatted doors on the right and indicated the washer and dryer inside. "Laundry room." The washer and dryer sat side-by-side, along with detergent and other essentials.

  He turned and began to squeeze by Christie, thought better of it and indicated she should go first. Looking slightly flustered, she walked quickly back into the kitchen.

  Garrett led the way back into the kitchen and then through the open archway into the hallway. "The living room is through here. There’s a terrace off the living room through the glass doors." He continued down the corridor. "Bedrooms are at the end of this corridor."

  "Oh, but. . ." Christie looked quickly into the living room, then hurried after him. "I know you said housing was limited, but why couldn’t I sleep in one of the bunkhouses, if you have one."

  "I do have one and you can’t sleep there," he said flatly.

  "But I didn’t expect -- "

  Garrett dropped the bag inside the doorway of the spare bedroom and faced her. He knew his voice was hard but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. "Whatever you might expect or want, Christie, you can’t share a bunkhouse with my men, as much as they’d probably enjoy that. The other women who work here all live in town. Right now there’s nowhere else. Your room isn’t fancy, but you should find it comfortable and fairly private." Garrett knew he was taking a leap of faith by allowing her to stay in the house. "There’s no other options."

  Christie looked inside the room. "I’ve been on the road awhile and this looks wonderful." She directed a smile at him. "Thank you. You’re really very kind."

  "No, I’m not," he said, unaccountably annoyed. "I’m too busy to be kind. I’m responsible for a lot of people and countless valuable horses. I will be checking you out."

  "I expect nothing less."

  "What this job means to you is I expect a fair day’s work." Garrett figured that should set her straight. He had never been called kind in his life.

  "Whatever you say," she said softly.

  Garrett had a sinking sensation as his gut knotted. Her smile indicated she didn’t believe him. He backed up a step, questioning the wisdom of letting this woman stay in his house. He also knew it was done. He never went back on his word.

  ###

  Garrett jerked awake, tension radiating down his neck as he quickly looked around. Reassured by the sight of Hannah sound asleep on her white bear rug on the living room floor, he rubbed his palm over his face, shaking off the remnants of a bad dream. The incident with Christie and Hannah today must have upset him more than he’d realized. He hadn’t had a dream about the car accident in six months or better. Judith . . . her white dress splashed with blood. Her driving had been reckless and she’d taken chances she shouldn’t have.

  Garrett glanced at his wristwatch. It was way past Hannah’s bedtime. It was his fault she’d gotten into the habit of staying up late while he went over his paperwork. It was easier than dealing with her crying fits and temper tantrums. In truth, Garrett had needed to see her at night in the months following Judith’s accident. It was a way of reassuring himself that Hannah was okay. Except that now, her late nights were becoming a problem he had to deal with.

  Hannah wore a long pink nightgown, her favorite color of the moment, and a small heel poked out from beneath the fabric. Garrett leaned down to brush wisps of baby fine hair back from her face. He was thankful every day that Hannah had survived the car crash, but he had to figure out a way to address her behavior problems.

  In the beginning it had been easy to think himself in love with Judith, but the problems from her past had helped to rip them apart. It hadn’t been all her fault, but he’d been so busy trying to get his business off the ground it had left little time for Judith and her demands. Her leaving had almost been a relief, but not her death. Never that. And now he had to deal with her sister. Somehow, he knew Christie really was her sister, but he still had to be one hundred percent sure.

  "I'm leaving and you're not stopping me, Garrett!" Judith’s voice echoed in his head. There’d been a lot of angry words that last day. Too many.

  Garrett tasted again the fear. . . fear that he would lose Hannah too. Judith left him pretty much the way she’d entered his life, in a whirlwind. She’d left in the sports car he’d bought her spitting gravel as she tore from the driveway.

  Judith had died an hour later, driving her car too fast; dying the way she lived. It was like she had a rush to experience all life had to offer, and life at the farm hadn’t been enough. Hannah had survived, but the eighteen months since the accident had been harrowing. Many times he’d questioned his own wisdom in trying to raise a young girl who might need more than he could give her. However many times he’d had doubts, he also knew he’d never give up on her. No matter how difficult or defiant she was, Hannah was still a part of his heart. She needed him as much as he needed her, but that was something neither one of them might ever admit. Looking down into her face he thought how peculiar it was that she looked more like him than her mother.

  Garrett lifted his daughter from the floor and carried her to her room. Carefully, he placed her in the bed shaped like a pumpkin coach. He leaned down to turn off the lamp, his glance falling on the small picture beside Hannah’s bed. Judith, Hannah and him in happier times. They had gone to an old-fashioned country fair in town. It had been a great day. Decisively, he switched off the light.

  "The covers, Daddy," Hannah murmured. "I like the covers tucked all around me." It was a ritual they’d started from the first, and Garrett continued, trying to keep her on an even keel, though at times it seemed nearly impossible.

  "There you go," he said gruffly, touching his finger to her nose. "Warm and tucked in."

  Her eyes opened. "I’m still your girl, Daddy?"

  Garrett pushed the hair from her cheek, thankful that there were still these tender moments. He leaned down and dropped a kiss on her smooth forehead. "You’ll always be my girl, sweetheart."

  "I’m sorry, Daddy, for not listening today." Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. "I try to be good, but I don’t seem to have the knack of it."

  Garrett couldn’t help but smile, recognizing Ruth’s words in that statement. "You just forget sometimes. Let’s hope the knack will grow on you."

  "I like the tire swing you put up for me." She pressed her fingers into the soft pile of the blanket. "And I’m glad you don’t make me wear dresses all the time."

  "Honey, there’s nothing wrong with dresses. All little girls should dress up from time to time. Your mom loved to dress up."

  "I know Daddy, but I don’t always want to stay clean." Her small fingers gripped his. "One more thing. I saw Albert sunning himself on a rock by the road and I was afraid he would run away. When I saw that truck I was really scared. It felt like my feet were stuck and I couldn’t move or anything." She drew a deep, heartfelt sigh. "I always seem to get in trouble. I won’t touch the geese pen anymore or Uncle Randy’s pigeon cage either. I’m sorry for being so bad, Daddy."

  "You’re not bad, sweetheart."

  "Then why do you get so mad?"

  "I worry because I want to keep you safe."

  "Then you won’t send me away?"

  Garrett’s heart felt like it was being squeezed. He sat down on the side of her bed and pulled her up into his arms, covers and all. "I’ll never send you away. You’re mine," he whispered fervently. "My little girl. Now go to sleep."

  When Garrett straightened and turned to leave, he saw Christie standing in the hallway. She wore a dark T-shirt and light jeans and her feet were bare. He noticed her dark hair was damp, tendrils clinging to the side of her neck. Caught off guard, he wondered how soft her neck would be if he buried his lips there. Something warm and sympathetic shone in her eyes. Garrett took a deep breath and walked across the shadowed room to where Christie stood in the hallway. The least he could do was say goodnight to his new employee. Carefully, he pulled his daughter’s bedroom door half closed and walke
d toward Christie.

  ###

  Christie knew she should have moved on and given Garrett the private moment with his daughter. How tenderly he’d placed Hannah in her bed, then smoothed the covers and stood back, watching her. She had to wonder what went through his mind, his hard mouth curved in a slight smile.

  "I wonder if little girls know how lucky they are to have their dads?" she asked with a smile.

  "I’m the lucky one," Garrett said simply.

  Christie swallowed. How could she be envious of a father’s love for his child? "I wish I’d had a father like you," she said softly. But her past could never be unwritten. "How fortunate Judith must have felt to have you and Hannah in her life."

  An almost painful expression crossed Garrett’s face.

  "I’m sorry," she said. "Sorry for intruding. You have a right to privacy with your daughter." She pushed her hands into her jeans pockets. "I just happened to see you on my way to the kitchen. She looks sweet lying there. What a unique bed."

  Garrett smiled at her, and some of her tension eased as he faced her in the hallway. "She saw a pumpkin coach in a story book and insisted she needed one like it."

  "You made the bed?"

  "The headboard. I enjoy working with wood and I’m good with my hands."

  Christie’s thoughts raced as she looked down at his big hands, the palms calloused. She’d seen how tenderly they handled a little girl. She wondered how they would treat a woman. She wondered about his life with her sister.

  "Come into the living room." Garrett led the way down the corridor. The ivory painted walls on either side were hung with framed pictures of horses and racetracks.

  "Are these your horses?" She asked curiously.

  As Garrett reached the open doorway of the living room he paused and looked back. "Yes. I’ve been fortunate in the last few years to have several winners." He indicated she should precede him through the glass paneled wood doors into the living room.

  The living room was definitely a man’s room. Most of the furnishings were dark browns and deep mahogany, yet the overhead lighting kept it from being dreary or too dark. Garrett moved around the room, picking up Hannah’s dolls, which were scattered on the couch and chairs. He deposited them in a small wooden box in one corner of the darkly paneled room. A beautiful stone fireplace occupied an entire wall, the mantelshelf holding an assortment of pictures. Family pictures.