Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) by Grace Brannigan Read Free Book Online Page A

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.
    "Take a seat, Christie."
    She turned from the fireplace and
sat on a small blue and mauve loveseat, running her palm over the richly
embroidered fabric. Garrett sat opposite her in a large recliner, and behind
him Christie saw a glass enclosed wood gun case.
    "Are those real guns?"
she asked, somewhat awed.
    Garrett looked around behind him.
"Yes." Seeing the look on her face, he added, "I collect them.
They’re mostly for sport shooting."
    "This room is
beautiful."
    "Thanks. Let’s go over a few
things," he went on briskly. "First, you can use the phone any time
you need to make a call, in case there’s someone you’d like to get in touch
with."
    Christie shoved a hand in her
jeans pocket as she cleared her throat. "Actually, I mentioned to Ruth I
do have some family."
    "They may worry if they don’t
hear from you."
    "No. For the most part I’m
footloose and fancy free." She knew her smile must look forced, but there
was no way she could talk normally about her family. From what he’d said about
Judith, she'd told him next to nothing about her life. Garrett wouldn’t
understand her screwed up past. At the best of times she even had trouble
putting it in proper perspective.
    She dug in her pocket and pulled
out a piece of paper. Rising quickly, she handed him the paper, then resumed
her seat. "That’s the number for my boss. He works at the county office in
Ulster. He’ll vouch for me."
    "Thanks. I’ll check it
out." He carefully folded the paper and stuffed it in his jeans pocket.
"So isn’t there someone in New York expecting to hear that you arrived
safely?"
    Christie held perfectly still. As
a child she’d yearned for real family ties, but anything approaching normal
family life had died with her Aunt Rose, and then Ellen. "No."
    "Christie." His voice
sounded concerned. "Your face is white. Is your head still bothering
you?"
    She touched her forehead, feeling
its tenderness. "No." She couldn’t admit she felt sick, sick in her
heart, hurting from loneliness and dwelling on a past she could never make
right. Hadn’t three years of therapy taught her the tools to survival, to be
strong and walk past the hurt? She and Ellen had been fighters, but Ellen
hadn’t made it and nowadays she didn’t feel like much of a fighter.
    "Actually, I’m not fine. I’m
still having trouble believing Judith is gone. Can’t you tell me something
about her?" she beseeched him, lifting her hands. "Please understand
my confusion. I feel like I’m missing someone I never even knew."
    Garrett stood and walked across
the room away from her. He stopped beside the