Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) (28 page)

He moved in closer, but Christie
had had enough with his drunken threats. She pushed against him and yanked the
door open. She stumbled back inside the hall and frantically searched the room
until she saw Buddy and Ally. They must have seen panic in her face, because
they both rushed toward her.

Ally reached her first.
"Christie, what’s wrong?"

"Les Doyle was here. He
dragged me outside."

"Where is he?" Buddy
asked, looking behind her. "I’ll straighten him out."

Christie gripped his arm.
"Leave him alone, he’s just a troublemaker." She could feel a bad
headache coming on. "I’d like to go home." She shivered with
reaction.

Ally put an arm around her
shoulders. "I’m calling the police to report this. He can’t just drag you
somewhere against your will."

"I just want to get out of
here," Christie said, rubbing her cold arms. "He went out that door
but I’m sure he’s gone by now."

"That goes out back and then
opens onto the street." Buddy strode down the corridor.

"Geez, I’m sorry this
happened, Christie. All we wanted to show you was a good time."

"You have. It was a great
time until he showed up."

"I have Randy’s cell number,
he’ll know what to do. This time Les has gone too far. I heard Kim took the
baby and left today. Probably best move she’s made all year." Ally pulled
a cell phone out of her pocketbook and punched in numbers. "Why don’t you
sit down while I call? If I get his answering service, I’ll leave a
message."

Christie sat at an empty table
behind her, keeping her eyes trained on the corridor from which Les had
appeared. In no time Ally rejoined her.

"Do you want a drink or
something?" Ally asked, her eyes heavy with concern. She held up her mixed
drink. Christie stared at it a moment, then shook her head.

"No, thanks." Christie
gripped her fingers together on the tabletop.

"He hurt you!" Ally
exclaimed, outraged, as she reached for her hand.

With a frown Christie looked at
the red puffiness of her wrist. "It’s okay."

Buddy came back inside. "He’s
gone." Disgusted, he looked around the almost empty barroom. "He must
have climbed the short fence out back and left that way because the gate is
locked. Just in case I’ll ask around to see if anyone’s seen him."

Christie waited around with Ally
until Randy arrived. When he first walked in the room, if it wasn’t for his
dark blue uniform she would have mistaken him again for Garrett.

He came right over to her.
"Christie, I got Ally’s message. Are you okay?"

"I’m okay. I was more scared
than anything."

"Look what he did to her
wrist, Randy," Ally said with disgust.

Grimly, Randy examined the
discolored skin. "I’ll put a call out on the radio. Hopefully we can round
Les up by morning." He looked at Ally. "Did you see him hanging
around?"

"No, but I heard Kim left, so
maybe that’s what set him off."

Christie shuddered. "He’d
been drinking. He accused me of stealing his wife’s job. It seems he’s been
stuck on that since we first met, even though Garrett told him that’s not
so."

"Let’s get you home,
Christie," Randy said. "You look pretty shaken up."

"I’ll take her," Ally
said.

"We’ll do the best we can to
bring him in," Randy said. "I promise you that."

Christie stopped in her tracks and
turned back to Randy. "Wait, there is one more thing that struck me. He
made a remark that if Garrett wasn’t careful, he’d see he lost the farm, and
his shirt too. I know the fire is still under investigation. You don’t think Les
could be involved, do you?"

Grimly, Randy said, "I’ve
already brought that up to Garrett. We’re checking out any lead we can. The
best thing for you to do is get back home." He looked at Ally. "You
take Christie and I’ll follow in my car."

There was nothing more Christie
could say. The night had turned sour and she just wanted to get back to the
ranch. Right now it seemed the only safe haven.

Garrett tipped his chair back. Dusk
settled around him on the small porch, the night painting the hills in an eerie
half-light. Even the night creatures were quiet tonight, as if a storm brewed
somewhere.

Hannah had finally fallen asleep
and Sam had taken Ruth out to a movie, so he had the house to himself. Garrett
had had plenty of time to go over the angry words he’d spoken to Christie. He
was honest enough to admit he was missing her like hell. Garrett closed his
eyes. What had happened to him? Had he become so afraid of being hurt that his
only recourse was to push her away? She’d been honest with him. She could have
kept it a secret, the money she’d sent Judith, but she’d elected to tell him
the truth. And to hell with the money anyway. Judith would have found another
way to leave even if Christie hadn't sent her the money.

What man in his right mind would
push a woman like Christie away? Soft, warm, kind, sexy as hell. When they’d
danced under the stars to the sad, soulful croon of Patsy Cline she’d felt like
she belonged in his arms. It had almost felt like forever, a notion he hadn’t
entertained in a long time.

As he wrestled with the idea of
trying to mend the hurts he had inflicted, Garrett heard the sound of a car in
the driveway. He rose quickly and walked across the terrace, then loped around
the corner of the house, his heart racing like a teenager’s in anticipation of
seeing his favorite girl.

A dark car sat idling in his
driveway, the headlights cutting a path across the yard. A tall stranger stood
on his back step at the screen door.

Garrett halted. "Can I help
you?" he called out.

The man turned and walked back
down the steps toward him. Garrett sized him up. Early twenties, long black
hair on his shoulders, lean face, slim build.

"I thought I’d have to drive
back to that last town I went through." Relief showed on the man’s face.
"I’m Darrell Anderson. I’m looking for Christine Jenkins."

Garrett’s head reared back.
"Christie?"

The man nodded. "Yeah. I had
a hell of a time tracking her down. All she mentioned was Winding Creek and
Kentucky. Luckily, your place is well known."

"Are you Darrell, her brother
in law?" he asked crisply.

"Yeah -- so she’s mentioned
me. My son’s been missing her. I had time off so I decided to drive down."

Garrett could now see Darrell was
sizing him up.

"Who are you?" Darrell
asked.

"Garrett McIntyre. I own this
ranch. Christie works for me."

Darrell looked startled.
"What ... she’s working down here? She didn’t mention that."

Just then the back door of the car
opened and a small figure climbed out. A child walked over to the man and clung
to his side. Garrett swore his heart stopped. The boy’s face was framed by hair
as dark as the man’s but the eyes, mouth and brows were a miniature replica of
Christie’s.

###

Christie called goodnight to Ally
as she stood by the barn. She'd told them she would tell Garrett what happened.
She didn't want a lot of trouble started over this. After Ally drove off,
followed by Randy in his cruiser, she studied the moon a moment, enjoying the
quiet wash of the night air against her face. Christie pushed her fingers
through her hair, rubbing her temples in an effort to dispel the headache that
had started earlier. She was glad she’d moved her belongings back into the
barn. The smoke odor had dissipated in a surprisingly short amount of time so
she had decided to get out from under Garrett’s feet.

Surprisingly, the house was still
well lit. Usually Garrett only had his office light or the living room light on
this late. She held her wrist up to see her watch by the security light
overhead. It was almost midnight. Something must be wrong.

Christie moved across the
moon-washed yard, glancing quickly to the right and the left, suddenly leery of
the shadows near the buildings. She realized she must be more shook up by Les’s
attack than she’d earlier realized. Could Les have been out there in the
shadows watching her at other times?

Her legs felt shaky as she walked
up the steps and into the house through the kitchen door. She would check to
make sure everything was okay and then go back to her apartment. As she crossed
the kitchen she could hear voices. She walked down the hallway and stopped at
the living room entrance.

Stunned, she looked at her
brother-in-law, Darrell, in Garrett’s living room. Darrell and Garrett were
both inspecting an old rifle lying across the oak coffee table. A part of
Christie’s brain noticed the glass door was open to the gun rack behind
Garrett’s chair.

"Darrell!"

Both men stopped talking. She
gripped the door handle, staring at Darrell, then darted a glance at Garrett
but his face wavered before her. She could see his mouth forming words but she
couldn’t hear them.

Garrett came over and gripped her
cold hands. "Your hands are so warm," she murmured, allowing him to
draw her into the room.

"Christie, sit down. You look
like you’ve seen a ghost."

She found herself on the couch.
When Garrett moved back she noticed Eric in Garrett’s large chair. She gave a
small squeal of excitement, then clapped her hand over her mouth. His body was
curled into a tight ball and he was sound asleep.

Hurriedly, Christie looked up at
Darrell. "Why are you here?" she demanded.

"I was worried about
you."

She gave him a searing glance,
unable to contain the anger that always seemed to flare. "Why would you
worry about my leaving?"

"Jesus, Christie." He
pushed his hands through his hair and the gesture seemed one of impatience.
Darrell had never been one for patience. "How long do I have to pay for
leaving Ellen?"

Christie felt like she’d been
dashed with cold water, suddenly mortified by what she’d said. Why was she
being hateful? She tried to pull the emotion back inside but it was growing. So
much anger, so much anguish. She felt incredibly unsettled and looked at
Garrett helplessly. "My family seems determined to intrude on your life
here."

"It’s not an intrusion,"
he said quietly, his eyes watchful. "I’ve invited Darrell and Eric to stay
at the farm while they’re in Kentucky."

"What?" She glared at
Darrell.

Darrell looked away from her.
"I had planned to find a motel," he said. "Garrett thought maybe
you’d like to see Eric and if he was here close by it would be easier ..."
he let his voice trail off.

"Also, Hannah and Eric could
meet," Garrett said.

Christie felt frozen and confused.
Was Darrell being considerate of her feelings? She stood up. "I’m sorry,
Darrell," she said stiffly. "It’s just been a shock. I didn’t expect
to walk in and find you." She turned to look at Eric, loving the angelic
face, his features relaxed in sleep. Gently, she touched his arm and then looked
up at Darrell, fighting back the tears and emotion; the memories. "I’m so
glad you brought Eric. I have missed him."

"Well, we’ll be here in the
morning and then he’ll be able to talk your ear off."

Christie didn’t miss the relief in
Darrell’s voice. What kind of person was she that she had such a blind spot
where he was concerned? At least he had come back in the end and taken care of
his son. It’s more than her father had ever done for any of them.

"It’s late," Garrett
said. He lifted the rifle from the coffee table and placed it back in the gun
cabinet. Closing the door, he locked it and pocketed the key. "The rest of
this can wait until tomorrow. Let’s get you two settled in the bunkhouse."

Christie looked at Garrett in
surprise. "They’re staying in the bunkhouse?"

Garrett nodded. "Sure.
There’s enough room with only Emmet and Joey there now. It’s rough but it’s
clean."

"And I really appreciate it,
Garrett," Darrell said. "It’s been a long drive and I’ll admit I’m
bushed."

Christie clenched her hands. She
had to make up for her earlier attitude. Was she some kind of monster? Why
couldn’t she just believe Darrell when he said he had been worried about her?

"Darrell, I’ll see you get
settled in," she said firmly, looking at Garrett to see if it was okay
with him. He nodded.

Darrell watched her with wary
surprise. "Okay. I’ll get Eric and I’ll follow you."

The intensity of Garrett’s light
colored eyes seemed to bore into her. He probably thought her attitude was
horrible; harboring resentment against her sister’s husband. Christie wished
she knew how to get rid of those feelings but each time she saw Darrell she was
reminded of the way he’d abandoned her sister. How could she ever forgive that?
Was it even up to her to forgive him?

###

Christie led the way on the short
walk to the bunkhouse, her mind going in all directions. On the one hand she
was glad to see Eric, but on the other hand, Darrell’s presence made her tense,
wary. She rubbed the back of her neck and shook her head. Darrell was Darrell.
He was Eric’s father and she had to make the best of the situation.

Christie opened the bunkhouse’s
wooden door. She had been in here once with Ally, so she knew the basic layout.
She flipped the switch and indicated Darrell should precede her into the room.

"Emmet and Joey won’t be back
until Sunday night, but I’ll leave a note on the door letting them know you’re
here. They’re nice kids, you won’t have a problem with them."

Christie opened a side door off
the main kitchen/living room combination. "The bathroom is through here
and the extra bedroom has two beds."

Christie stood in the bedroom
doorway as Darrell carefully laid his sleeping son on the mattress. Eric
stirred and opened his eyes. He let out a small cry when he saw Christie, one that
went straight to her heart. "Aunt Christie!"