Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) (3 page)

A vehicle was coming up the drive
behind them. They moved to the side of the driveway so the truck could pass.
Garrett recognized Les Doyle’s red Chevy pickup truck. Les had probably stopped
by for his wife Kim’s last paycheck. He parked sideways in front of the foaling
barn.

Garrett looked at Christie.
"That’s Kim’s husband -- she’s the one you’re filling in for. Give me a
minute so I can find out how Kim’s doing." He walked across the front of
the truck. Christie remained on the passenger side of the vehicle while Garrett
approached the driver’s side.

"Hello, Les."

"Hey Garrett," Les said
loudly, leaning his elbow out the window.

Les didn’t look well. He hadn’t shaved
and his red hair stood on end. Knowing Les’ troubled past with alcohol and
substances, it wasn’t a good sign as far as Garrett was concerned. Garrett
wondered if Les had slid back to his old drinking habits.

"You feeling okay, Les? You
look under the weather."

"Yeah, fine, fine."

"And how is Kim?"

"You know Kim, she likes to
stay busy. She’s going stir-crazy."

"Let her know I’ll be giving
her a call. The girls in the barn were asking if she needed help with the baby.
They’ll probably come and see her."

Les pushed open his door and
climbed out, then slammed the door hard. He stumbled and leaned his bulky
six-foot frame against the side of the pickup. "I came for Kim’s
check." As he heaved himself away from the vehicle the breeze shifted,
sending the distinct odor of alcohol toward Garrett.

Garrett sighed. "Les, you’ve
been drinking."

"I only had one."

"The last time you went on a
bender, Kim left."

Les held up his right hand.
"I swear I’m headed straight home."

"You know I can’t let you go
back on the highway. One of the boys will run you home."

Les waved away that suggestion.
"I’m fine. Kim’s waiting dinner on me. By the way, she’s itching to get
back to work."

Garrett frowned. "I heard she
had a bad break and the doctor wanted her to stay off the foot as much as
possible."

Les wiped his sleeve across his
mouth. "She’s worried about losing her job."

"Kim will always have a job
when she’s ready to come back." Garrett reached in his jeans pocket and
pulled out the folded envelope with Kim’s check. "I figured you’d stop.
Here’s Kim’s paycheck."

"She wants to come back
now," Les insisted. He took the envelope and pocketed it.

Just then Garrett heard a baby’s
cry. Stunned, he moved closer to the vehicle and looked inside. Les and Kim’s
seven-month old son Tommy was strapped in a baby seat, and on the truck seat
beside him was a six-pack of beer.

"Les," Garrett said.

"Oh, he’s okay," Les
said. "He must’ve just woke up." He fumbled behind him and yanked the
door open.

Garrett put his palm against the
door and pushed it closed. "Les! Don’t be stupid. You're getting a ride
home and that's it."

Les twisted around toward Garrett,
his eyes narrowed in anger. "I’m not hurting anybody. I'm leaving
now."

"We’ll drop your truck off
later."

Les opened his mouth, his face tight
with anger.

"Unless you want me calling
the Sheriff’s office, there are no other options," Garrett said in a hard
voice.

###

Tensely, Christie watched the
interaction between the two men from the other side of the vehicle. Les was
furious, in deep contrast to Garrett's coolly composed stance.

Garrett’s dark blond hair was
smooth beneath his cowboy hat, and despite the heat his blue cotton shirt
looked crisp and fairly clean. Les on the other hand looked like a train wreck about
to happen, something she’d seen all too often while growing up. Handsome face,
watery blue eyes, faint red spidery lines along his cheeks. He reminded her of
her alcoholic father.

"All right, all right,"
Les was saying now. "I'll take the ride," he said grudgingly.

Garrett indicated Sue. "You
know Sue and my new hand, Buddy. I’ll see if they can give you that ride."
Garrett reached inside the truck and unlatched the car seat with the baby in
it.

Carrying both, Garrett crossed
back over to Les.

"I’ll talk to Sue about
taking Tommy."

"In a minute," Les said.
"I picked stuff up at the store that I need to get out of the truck."

Garrett motioned with an upraised
hand to the tall woman -- Sue -- who still stood talking with Buddy outside the
barn. The pair quickly crossed the yard toward them. Sue, an attractive blond
about Garrett’s height, appeared to be in her mid thirties while Buddy in
contrast was dark haired and about the same height as Christie.

Garrett’s introductions were
quick. "Sue, Buddy -- Christie. We’ll do more formal introductions
tomorrow. Right now Les needs a ride home. Sue, since Tommy knows you, would
you mind running both of them home?"

Sue smiled and unhooked the baby
from the car seat. "Of course not. I go right by Kim’s place when I drop
Buddy off." She cuddled the baby in her arms.

"I’ll take the car
seat," Buddy said, nodding at Christie as he took the seat from Garrett.
Sue and Buddy crossed the yard and placed the car seat and baby in a dark green
SUV.

When Christie turned from watching
them, she was startled to find Les a short distance from her, holding a brown
grocery bag in his hands. She hadn’t realized he’d come around to her side of
the vehicle. She was slightly relieved that he stopped three or four feet away.
Even so, the smell of alcohol was pretty strong.

Les looked at Christie. "I
haven’t seen you before."

"I just got here."

He took in her duffel bag.
"You working here?" He glared at Garrett. "Is she taking my
Kim’s place? How the hell is my wife going to get her job back now?"

Christie felt relief when Garrett
moved to stand between her and Les.

"Take it easy," Garrett
said.

Christie thought he showed
tremendous patience.

"No one is taking anything
from you or Kim."

"We’re ready!" Sue
called, pulling the SUV up beside them.

"I’m coming." Les gave
Christie one last look, turned on his heel and walked toward the waiting
vehicle.

The tension holding Christie in
place released when the vehicle pulled away. She crossed her arms, somewhat
unsettled by the encounter.

"Is he always like
that?" she asked.

Garrett shrugged. "Les used
to be a pretty decent guy. When he's drinking, he's totally different."

Garrett turned away and walked
toward the house.

Christie fell into step beside
him. "What was she like?"

Silence.

"My sister."

"I know who you mean."
She sensed reluctance in him to talk about her sister. "Judith wore her
heart on her sleeve and took up causes at the slightest whim. She was an
emotional woman." He opened a small gate and let her precede him into the
yard. "Let’s get to the house for dinner."

Christie thought about what he’d
said. So Judith had been emotional. It hadn’t sounded like a compliment.

She took note of wide shoulders stretching
the worn cotton shirt before it tapered to a narrow waist and faded blue jeans.
She frowned, forcing herself to look away from Garrett McIntyre’s backside. He
was good looking in a lean, cowboy kind of way. A small shiver raced across
her. His eyes seemed to change between blue and gray beneath the brim of that
cowboy hat. His hard-planed face could have advertised the old west on
billboards and melted a million hearts, but he struck her as a man who didn’t
have time for any romantic nonsense. He seemed very grounded and she got an
uneasy feeling when he spoke of her sister . . . like he was leaving out more
than he was saying. Not that he’d said that much.

"I’m not trying to come off
as chauvinistic or anything, but don’t you have a man or someone traveling with
you?"

That made Christie laugh.
"No. No man in charge of my life." Garrett was no doubt a man who
took charge. "You know, I’ve seen too many Les’s with that same wild look
in their eye." Her father’s buddies. "I don’t care if I ever meet up
with that man again." Les’ desperate edge repelled her.

Christie hitched her bag higher,
reassured by the weight of it against her chest.

Garrett held out his hand.
"Let me take that."

Everything she had of value was in
the bag. "That's okay, it's not heavy."

"Was Judith the only reason
you came here?"

Christie was taken aback by the
question. "Yes, what else could there be? I -- never really knew her, you
know. Just vague recollections. . .." she let her voice trail off. How had
Judith died? Right now she had no choice but to respect his wish not to talk
about it. "I have to admit I still feel out of sync, as if my sister might
arrive any moment. I pictured our reunion all the way down here." She’d
traveled to Kentucky to find Judith, and maybe to find herself. "It hurts
too much to think about Judith being gone. Can you at least tell me where she’s
buried?"

Some of her desperation must have
showed in her face, because he finally said, "She’s buried at a cemetery
in town." Almost reluctantly, he added, "If you’re here long enough,
we'll drive to town one day and I'll show you."

Some of the heaviness eased in
Christie’s chest. "Thank you."

"We’re here," he said,
and Christie wondered if that was relief in his voice. They walked around the
back of the house and she liked the brand new swing set that had been set up.
Hanging from a big tree was an equally new looking tire swing on a rope.
Christie looked at the back yard and a knot formed in her chest. A small flower
garden behind the swings was enclosed by a white picket fence.

"This is like walking onto a
movie set," she murmured, disturbed by a hard ache inside.

"What?" Garrett asked,
apparently startled.

Christie struggled to explain.
"You know, down home and the average family. The house, yard with flowers,
white picket fence, swings in the back yard." She laughed. "I feel
completely out of my element. My sister was so lucky. She escaped and found
that elusive happiness here." She suddenly felt uneasy about staying here.
Judith’s house, Judith’s husband.

"Judith never lived
here," Garrett said flatly.

He climbed the steps to a small
deck at the back of the house and held open a screen door.

"But the address on the
envelope -- "

"The address is the same. Two
years ago this house was in the process of being built. Judith and I lived in
the small cottage out back where my foreman Sam lives now. She wanted something
bigger -- not that I could afford it at the time," he added grimly.

"This house and the barns. .
.the horses out in the fields, you look like you’re doing so well." She
clamped her lips together as his eyes narrowed.

"I can afford it now."

Did he think she was interested in
his money?

She hung back. "Why don’t you
just show me where I’ll stay tonight? I-I really don’t need anything to
eat."

"Cabin’s out back, but I want
you to get ice on that bump first." He held the door open.

Climbing the stairs, Christie
walked through the open door into the kitchen. Delicious aromas assaulted her
senses. "It smells wonderful in here."

Garrett’s smile eased some of the
tension lines beside his mouth. "Ruth has a pot roast cooking."

Her mouth watered helplessly.
Surreptitiously, she looked around the well-lit kitchen. Garrett might think
twice about hiring her if he caught her drooling she thought humorously. She
hoped her eyes weren’t watering; she’d never felt so hungry.

On Christie’s right was a long
kitchen counter and cupboards. The light colored oak cabinets had etched glass
doors with antiqued pull knobs.

"I really like your dark blue
marble countertop," she remarked. "The black appliances give the room
an air of sophistication."

He looked at her with one brow
raised. "I was trying more for country simplicity."

"Did you design all
this?" She looked down at the floor. "I’d say you’ve achieved country
simplicity and more with this slate blue tile. What a great kitchen to work
in."

"Ruth seems to like it."

Christie couldn't imagine anyone
complaining about a modern kitchen. She thought of the small, cramped counter
top in her old apartment.

Light hued wainscoting coupled
with ivory painted walls added to the warm homey look. "Did you do the
stenciling over the doorways?"

Garrett laughed. "No, that
wasn’t me. Actually, Kim tackled that."

"I’m surprised that a man
would even think about stenciling." Belatedly realizing how sexist that
might sound, she quickly added, "I mean, I don’t know many -- any men who
could single handedly design their own kitchen."

"When I was putting the
kitchen together I had some help from the girls who work for me. Truthfully, I
didn’t think of the stenciling. Kim suggested it and I agreed, as long as she
didn’t go crazy."

"She’s artistic."

"Yeah, well, that's why she
took care of it. I can’t claim any artistic ability. Now through that door on
your left is a pantry, another freezer and the laundry room. The open archway
straight ahead, just past the kitchen table, leads to the rest of the
house."

Christie looked across the kitchen
at the opening Garrett indicated. Through the archway could be seen honey
colored oak flooring and a hand woven throw rug in shades of rose and cobalt
blue.

Bo Peep trailed behind Christie
and then settled with a plop onto a plaid cushion in a corner beside the
archway. She found it curious that this big, tough looking man had named his
dog after a fairytale character to please his daughter. A smile tugged at her
lips. Somewhere under that calm demeanor lurked a sense of humor and perhaps a
gentle heart. Christie reined in her wayward thoughts, knowing she had more
important things to worry about than her new employer’s predilection for
kindness. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the dread on his face when he’d
first knelt beside her and Hannah. It was like he’d seen a ghost. She looked up
and found him watching her.