Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) (8 page)

"Yeah, and I’m really glad
you found her for us. I don’t know what we’d do without her."

"Well Vern was a good man. He
worked hard his whole life." Sam looked uncomfortable. "We grew up
together and worked some of the same places here and there."

Garrett stopped and faced the
other man, not sure what he was trying to tell him. "Listen Sam, we’ve
known each other since I was a kid. Whatever you tell me will go no
further."

Sam pushed his hat back on his
heat and scratched his head. "Well, the truth is, Ruth and me have been
spending time together lately. No disrespect to Vern, but he didn’t leave her
real flush, if you know what I mean."

Sam paused again.

"My job here at the farm is
sweet, what with the place on the back acres that you let me use. I was
wondering if you’d mind if Ruth moved into the cottage." Sam seemed to
swallow a few times. "With me, that is."

Garrett looked at the man who had
been a good friend to his father, and a steadfast, reliable employee to him.
"It’s your decision, Sam. I have no problem with that."

Garrett caught a rare glimpse of a
smile on his foreman’s weathered face.

Just then a movement on the far
end of the paddock caught Garrett’s eye. He could see Christie sitting on the
paddock fence. "Let me check the fence and the gates," he said.

Sam gave him a quick nod and
reached for Blue Boy’s lead. "I’ll get this guy cooled out and catch up
with you."

Garrett strode back out to the
paddock where he’d spotted Christie, and found her standing beside a steel
gate. She swung the gate closed.

"Why is that gate open? Now I
understand how the horse got in with the mares."

Christie swung around to face him.
"Garrett! You scared me." She bit at her lip and fumbled with the
gate latch. Garrett stepped closer and pushed her hands out of the way. He
latched it securely and turned to face her. "Why was it open?"

Christie gave him a wary look. "I
don’t know. I saw everyone chasing horses and thought maybe it should be closed
so they couldn’t run out this end."

"It’s not okay when a
stallion gets in with mares and foals. There’s a potential for any of the
horses to get seriously kicked."

"It was open when I came
out." She pushed her hands in her jean pockets.

Garrett stared at her
suspiciously, aware of a curious sinking feeling. "Christie, did you open
the gate?"

The hurt surprise on her face made
him feel like a heel for asking.

"I wouldn’t open any gates
unless told otherwise."

Some of the tension eased from his
shoulders. "The first hard and fast rule on the farm is that gates are
always kept closed. It doesn’t matter if there’s a horse in the paddock or
not."

"I hope the horses are
okay," she said. "I would have come to find someone but I didn’t
realize anything was wrong. Really, I didn’t know," she added defensively.
"I came out here to eat my lunch."

"Well, next time you’ll know.
I can’t have anyone being careless. These animals are too valuable."
Garrett turned away and they walked side-by-side along the small footpath
beside the fence. "How’s your head? I see that bump looks better."

Christie gave him an amused
glance. "I swear I’m fine. No headache, nothing to worry about. I’ve got a
hard head. It’s been knocked around more than that little bump."

Garrett looked over his shoulder
at Sam as he joined them. "Christie, this is Sam Connors, my foreman Sam
-- Christie Jenkins. She’s helping while Kim’s out."

His hard-edged foreman gave
Christie a big smile.

"Welcome aboard,
Christie," Sam said. "Ruth told me about you."

"The gate was open,"
Garrett told him.

Sam scratched his head. "Joey
put the horses out and must be he didn’t latch the gate securely. He swears he
did. There’s a mare with a scraped hock but it doesn’t look bad."

"I’ll take a look. We both
know about small scratches that blow up overnight into a big problem."

"Uh, Garrett, what time do
you want me at the barn in the mornings?" Christie said. "You never
really said."

Garrett turned to her. "Eight
is fine."

She hesitated. "I’m usually
up by six. Since I’m up early anyway, if you’d like I can help out with
Hannah."

Garrett immediately shook his
head. "No. Ruth sees to my daughter." Realizing how curt that
sounded, he added, "Thanks for asking. I’m sure you’ll see Hannah off and
on during the day."

"Sure. No problem." She
looked away from him and toward the house.

He knew he was protective of
Hannah, but he wasn’t changing anything just because Christie was here. She’d
better understand that now or they’d be at odds from the word go.

He looked at Sam. "Let’s go
check that mare."

###

Several hours later Christie sat
at the kitchen table. Sunlight spilled through the windows across the wooden
table, the light dancing across her glass of lemonade. Ruth had shown her where
to find cold drinks and snacks and then left for parts unknown. The house was
incredibly quiet.

Christie thought about the pasture
gate that had been left open earlier, and Garrett questioning her as if she’d
been responsible. She supposed since she was the new one at the farm he’d
question her first, but it was almost as if he expected her to be
irresponsible. Sue had told her if Garrett hadn’t acted so quickly, the horses
could have been badly injured.

Christie hadn’t mentioned to
anyone that she’d felt like she was being watched as she’d eaten her lunch in
the sun. She’d dismissed the notion as paranoia. Later, she’d heard Joey
adamantly deny leaving any gates opened. He’d worked for Garrett for two years
and knew the routine and Christie believed him. As she thought more about it,
she wondered if someone else had opened the gate and watched everything unfold
from the trees beyond the paddock. Why mention such a theory though? They’d
probably think she was trying to stir trouble or something.

Looking up at a slight sound,
Christie twisted in her chair and found Hannah watching her from the doorway.

"Hi, Hannah. I didn’t think
there was anyone in the house." Hannah was a beautiful child with her
rounded cheeks showing just a hint of pink. Christie wished she could remember
her oldest sister. Maybe it would have helped her if she’d ever seen pictures
of Judith when she was younger. Judith’s death still felt unreal, as if she was
missing out on a connection she should be feeling.

Hannah hesitated in the archway,
looking ready to bolt back the way she’d come.

"I like your boots,"
Christie said quietly. "I noticed those red boots the first time I saw
you."

Hannah stepped into the kitchen.
Christie noticed the toes of her boots were scuffed down to their natural
leather color. "If I had boots like those, they’d be my favorite
pair."

Hannah’s eyes widened in surprise.
"Well, these are my favorite." She tucked her white T-shirt into her
blue jeans and then looped her thumbs in her pink belt. A small plush rabbit
hung half way out of her front jeans pocket. Weighing down the front of her
belt was a large silver buckle.

"I didn’t see you this
morning," Hannah said, her manner offhand. "I thought maybe you
left."

"Nope. I’ll be here for a
month."

Christie suppressed a grin as
Hannah rolled her eyes.

"My sister Ellen had a
collection of those animals," Christie commented, indicating the stuffed rabbit.
When Ellen died, she’d given the animals to her nephew. Idly, Christie wondered
if Darrell had let Eric keep them. She shifted her gaze to the roses in a vase
in front of her. Reaching out she ran her fingertip along a thorn, testing it
sharpness. A tiny drop of blood appeared on her skin.

"Mommy gave me this
one," Hannah said, waving the rabbit in the air.

"It’s great that you have a
keepsake." Casually, she added, "That’s a neat buckle."

Hannah rubbed the buckle’s shiny
surface with her forefinger. "Daddy won it at a rodeo. Now it’s
mine." She tilted her head so her long blond hair hid her face. "It
says ‘All Around Roper’." Hannah’s gaze met hers. "Daddy quit when
him and my mom got married." She frowned and hunched her shoulders.
"She was beautiful. She died," she mumbled.

Christie swallowed past the
tightness in her throat. "You’re lucky you have your dad."

"He’s not my dad!"
Hannah blurted. "Not really."

Taken back by the vehemence in
Hannah’s voice, Christie also heard the underlying uncertainty. The words
themselves struck Christie like a physical pain in her chest, making it hard to
breath.

Taking several breaths, she
focused on Hannah and the child’s pain. Christie said slowly and carefully,
"Anybody can see he’s your dad in every way that counts." Inside, she
felt sick, her fingers clenching. Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t question
Hannah. She pressed her lips together, feeling a rigid ache through her whole
body. Garrett had lied to her. They needed to talk.

Hannah’s expression looked hopeful,
but then she seemed to crumple and with an angry mutter, ran from the room.

Christie let out a breath. She’d
blown that. Everything in her wanted to soothe Hannah’s hurt, tell her she was
so lucky to have a dad who loved her. Christie knew from her own experience not
all dads loved their kids like Garrett.

Christie saw the floppy rabbit on
the floor where Hannah had dropped it. She left the table, washed her glass and
leaned down and picked up the stuffed toy. She rubbed its softness between her
fingers. A part of her was numb by the truth Hannah had innocently divulged.
Garrett was not her biological father.

Turning the rabbit over, Christie
could see where someone had repaired one leg with long, uneven stitches. One
ear was narrower than the other and it had stitches along the side. Had Judith
mended a beloved toy for her daughter?

Christie left the kitchen and
walked down the hallway. Looking into the living room, she found Hannah lining
her dolls up on the area rug. Christie stepped back out of sight and knocked on
the door casing, holding the stuffed toy so all Hannah would see was the
rabbit. "Can I come in?" she said in a high, whiney voice.
"Somebody dropped me and I hurt my ear. Look, it flops."

A small giggle from Hannah, then
silence. Christie wiggled the rabbit sideways. "Please? I want to play
with Hannah’s dolls."

"You can come in,"
Hannah said quietly.

Christie stepped around the corner
and entered the living room.

Hannah solemnly accepted the
proffered rabbit and put it on the floor beside her dolls. Christie noticed the
dolls were arranged in order of size and hair color -- blondes, then brunettes.

"Luckily your rabbit wasn’t
hurt so you won’t have to stitch him up. It looks like you’ve operated on him a
few times."

Hannah nodded. "Daddy sewed
his ear here," she held the rabbit up by the ear, "and on his leg
when he broke it. See?"

Impressed, Christie said,
"Your dad did that? Wow, I couldn’t sew a stitch if you paid me."

Hannah looked down at the rabbit.
"Daddy can do all kinds of stuff."

"I believe you. He seems
pretty smart." Garrett was mother and father all rolled into one, but he
had lied to her. A lie of omission.

"Well," Christie said
cheerfully, "now that you and the rabbit are reunited I’m going back to
work. Maybe I’ll see you later, Hannah."

Hannah didn’t say anything, but
for once her smile was sweet and unguarded.

###

Hannah stared at her dolls after
Christie had left. Carefully, she rearranged them a bit. Christie seemed pretty
nice, but Hannah remembered Mommy saying you had to be careful of people.
Sometimes they acted all nice because they wanted something. Hannah chewed her
lip, wondering if maybe Christie wanted something. No, she’d brought her
favorite rabbit to her and she didn’t have to do that. Christie was nice. She
kept her from getting hurt the other day.

Hannah held the rabbit tightly to
her chest and smoothed the soft old fur with one hand. She wondered if she
should be friends with Christie. Maybe she’d ask Daddy or she could just wait
and see if Christie did anything mean.

"Sometimes people just need a
little rope to hang themselves." Hannah put her hands over her ears, but
she still heard Mommy’s voice. Sometimes it got in her head and wouldn’t go
away.

She gathered her dolls in her arms
and climbed into Daddy’s chair. She stuffed the dolls all around her and sat
very still. On a table beside her was Daddy’s old baseball cap. She picked it
up and held it tightly. Daddy called it his lucky hat. As she stared at a
picture of Daddy and Uncle Randy on the wall, she began to feel better. Mommy’s
voice was gone. Hannah relaxed.

###

Later that afternoon Garrett
stabled his gelding in the barn and strode down the newly raked barn aisle.
Another day come and gone. The barn smelled sweetly of hay and clean bedding as
he checked each of the box stalls.

He’d spent the latter part of the
afternoon checking fence in the furthest pastures from the house. Some of his
young stock were out in those pastures and he liked to keep a regular eye on
them. He made a mental list of the chores he hadn’t been able to get to today.

"Hi, Boss!" called out
Sue as he neared the end of the barn. Sue stepped out of the box stall next to
the doorway and into the aisle. It was the stall of the mare that had been
injured today. Garrett noticed the black jar of ointment in her hand.

"Hi Sue. How’s Bridie’s leg
doing?"

"It’s looking good -- no
swelling so far. I just cleaned it again and put on ointment to keep the flies
away."

Garrett entered the large box
stall, the crisp shavings stirring underfoot. Birdie was one of his better
mares, a sleek gray whose foals were just beginning to prove themselves on the
track.