"It will if a bee stings my nose," he grumbled, but he couldn’t hold back a smile. She looked so happy. When he was certain there weren’t any bees, he smelled the flowers. "I never paid much attention to flowers. They smell nice."
"I love flowers. They have such a unique color and scent. Ellen adored them, she said they made her feel better. I used to fill her room whenever I could." Her mood turned somber and he noticed tears hanging on her lashes. "There was a florist around the corner from our apartment. He used to send over the flowers that were beginning to get old."
Garrett felt like a fist closed around his throat. "Give it time," he said awkwardly.
Christie looked at her bouquet, the stems crushed and the flowers hanging limply. Without a word she dropped the mangled bunch and climbed back on the bike.
"Christie --"
She shook her head. "It’s okay." She put the helmet back on and pressed against his back. Garrett started the bike and headed them in the direction of home. He didn’t know what to say to her.
Once more at the house, he left Christie at the barn and she gave him a subdued smile. He had an unsettled feeling in his gut as he walked into the house. In the kitchen he found Ruth bent over the stove as she lifted a loaf of bread from the oven.
"Smells great," he said. "How long before dinner?"
"About thirty minutes."
"I’ll be right back," he said. On his way back out the door he pulled a section of yesterday’s newspaper from the recycled pile.
Climbing on his bike, Garrett rode back to the field. He looked at all the flowers, then bent down and picked a yellow one. The petals were small and fragile against his rough hands. He’d never thought much about flowers, their structure or the beauty that made each one different. Garrett thought Christie was like a flower. Intricate and complex. He was curious what was below the surface. If he peeled the layers, what would he find? Would she break if he pushed too hard? The more he got to know her, the less she seemed like Judith. Fragile, tempestuous Judith.
He picked another flower, a large yellow one with a deep brown center. He picked more until he had a big handful of different colors and sizes. He hoped this would make up for the flowers that had been ruined.
He pulled the paper out of his back pocket and placed the flowers in the center, then wrapped the paper around it for the ride back. He smelled the flowers, not even thinking about looking for bees this time. They smelled pretty good.
Garrett had formed a picture in his mind of Christie’s early life. Deep loneliness, and except for her sister, there hadn’t been an abundance of love, something that would take time to overcome. If that was Christie’s early life, then it must have been Judith’s also.
Garrett parked his bike in the shed behind the house and crossed the yard to the back door. Looking up he saw Christie waiting for him on the steps.
"Hi." She grimaced. "Sorry for being a wet blanket. I wanted to apologize before we went in for dinner."
If she was a wet blanket, she could wrap herself around him anytime. "Don’t worry about it. I do understand." Garrett held the newspaper-wrapped flowers out to her. "These are for you. Hope you like them."
Christie took the paper with both hands. Darting him a glance, she opened it and let out a small cry. She stepped forward and the warmth of her body was momentarily against him, her cheek resting on his.
"Thank you," she said. "You’re the most thoughtful guy I know."
Garrett cleared his throat. "Glad you like them."
He followed Christie into the house, liking the happiness in her face, the way her dark hair slid along her cheek. Why hadn’t someone snapped her up? She was strong and special, but there was also something so vulnerable in her joy that it scared him. Again he wondered, did he want to risk becoming involved and thereby embrace everything that came along with Christie?
Chapter Thirteen
The dream hit Christie with terrifying force. Smoke swirled around her head and the air was choking with it. She heard horses whinny in distress, hooves kick the walls and the splintering of wood.
Christie coughed, opening her eyes. The dream was real. She felt disoriented. The clock seemed to swirl, then cleared. One a.m. Muffled sounds reached her from below and the fear escalated into terror. Something was very wrong. She had to get out. Where were Garrett and Hannah? She thought a moment. She’d left the house only three hours ago.
She rolled out of bed, landing hard on the floor. Drawing a gasping breath, she tried to separate herself from the terror of waking in a smoke-filled room. She had to get her bearings. The doorway should be straight ahead.
Crawling on her knees she found the opening but the smoke was worse when she tried to go down the stairs. Christie leaned against the still cool walls, unable to see anything. If she attempted the stairs she might walk into an inferno.
She crawled back across the room and managed to find the staircase that led down to the inside arena. With a clutch of panic she realized the horse barn below her apartment must be on fire. She thought achingly of the horses.
Without giving herself further time to think, she plunged down the stairs. She half-slid, half-bumped her way down the last two steps. Christie landed near the bottom on her back, her nightshirt riding up her thighs. Her legs felt scraped and a warm stickiness covered the toes of one foot. She bit back the pain and clamped her lips on the moan that wanted to escape.
Dazed, she stumbled into the arena and pulled in gasping breaths of clean fresh air. Half a dozen horses ran around in the enclosure, nostrils flared and their tails straight out. Christie felt the same fear they were exhibiting. All she could think about was she had to get into the barn and make sure the rest of the horses reached safety. She was hardly aware of the soft dirt beneath her bare feet as she dodged the scared horses. She counted in her head, fifteen horses in the barn. She turned toward a small side door and entered the main barn over which her apartment sat.
Choking smoke hit her face. She held her shirtsleeve over her nose, her eyes immediately gritty and burning, terror making her steps falter. She felt her way down the barn, finding the first stall open. She went down the line, thankful to find all the stalls appeared to be empty. A horse brushed against her and she fell to the ground.
Christie didn’t see any flames or feel the heat of fire, just an overwhelming, thick smoke. She leaned against a wall. She couldn't remember if she was at the end of the barn or closer to the middle. Panic began to set in.
She felt her way as she crawled on her knees.
"Christie! Where are you? Answer me!" From far off she heard Garrett. She kept her head down but turned toward the sound of his voice.
"Garrett!" Her voice came out a pitiful croak, the taste of smoke acrid on her tongue. Christie pushed her sleeve into her mouth but the taste wouldn’t go away. She closed her eyes, feeling smoky grit behind her lids.
###
Garrett told the others to stand back away from the smoke billowing from the barn opening, but then he thought he saw something inside.
"Sam, somebody’s in there." He put a wet rag over his mouth, a burning pain in his chest. Fear clawed up into his throat and joined the smoke to choke him. Christie. Where was she? He had to find her.
He tripped over something and fell to his knees on the hard barn floor. Reaching forward, he felt a bare leg. Dread knotted his stomach muscles. He pulled Christie toward him and then he lifted her on his shoulder and lunged to his feet. She lay still.
Terror lent him extra strength. Garrett turned and ran as hard as he could from the barn, Christie bouncing like a lifeless doll on his shoulder. Once outside and away from the blinding smoke, he lay her on the ground and checked for a pulse. Sam was instantly at his side, his voice saying something, but Garrett didn’t hear. He pushed the wild tangle of hair away from her face, pain and fear clawing at him. She didn’t seem to be breathing.
He ignored the stinging in his eyes. He shook her shoulder, but her head lolled to the side. Black s
oot outlined her mouth and nose. "Christie!" Tilting her head back he put his mouth over hers and breathed.
Pulling back, he tasted deepening anguish through every pore of his body.
No response.
He lowered his head once more.
Christie suddenly lifted her head and shoulders and coughed. Garrett let out a hoarse cry, barely aware of his own relief as he supported her head and neck.
"Okay ... I'm okay," she croaked, her eyes opening, dark, tear-studded eyes in her soot-blackened face.
"Christie." Was that hoarse voice his? Sitting back on his heels, Garrett lifted her from the ground and cradled her limp body in his arms. He couldn’t do anything else. He held her close to reaffirm that she hadn’t died. He held her without words, conscious of the tremble of his arms. He had almost lost her.
"The horses, what about the horses?" she asked, jerking forward, looking back and forth. "We’ve got to get them out."
Garrett laid a gentling hand on her cheek, aware of the terrible shake in his hands and arms as she clawed at him and tried to rise. "Easy, Christie. Sam got everybody out."
"The road?"
"The main gate is closed, they can’t get out on the road."
She looked at the barn with the smoke still pouring out the windows.
Garrett felt her shudder. He wanted to absorb her fear, take it away, but there was nothing he could do, especially when the remnants of his own fear were gripping him so tightly.
"Boy, that was close," she said weakly, going limp against him. Garrett clenched his teeth in an agony of reaction. She didn't know how desperately close it had been.
"While Sam was pulling the horses out I tried to find you." He cleared his throat, overcome with the memory of not knowing where she was. He had raced up the stairs and been pushed back by the smoke. "The smoke had gotten so bad, I couldn't see anything. I tried to get into the stairway on the arena side, but it was locked. I ran up the front stairs but I had to double back." Garrett never wanted to experience that fear again. For a ten-minute period, she had been lost to him. It had felt like hours.
"I was hoping you got outside. When I came back down the horses were all out." Garrett blanked from his mind the sick terror that had gripped him. "In the chaos Sam couldn’t find you."
"I’m okay, Garrett." Her voice had become reassuring, as if she would soothe him.
Her nightshirt was stained and streaked with dirt. "I thought you were dead," he muttered starkly, staring into her eyes, seeing the evidence of life for himself. He tightened his arms.
"Garrett, I went down the stairs into the arena because of the smoke. I knew we had to get the horses to safety. You carried me out here?" she asked shakily, burrowing into him.
Garrett nodded his head jerkily. "You lay so still." The adrenaline still had him in its grip. He couldn’t shut up. "Come on," he said, "you’re coming to the house."
Garrett helped Christie to her feet. When she swayed he muttered a curse and lifted her into his arms.
"Boss -- Christie -- I’ve got the medical personnel coming to take a look. Christie, are you okay?"
She nodded.
Christie let the paramedics do a cursory examination, but pushed them away firmly when they wanted her to go in the ambulance. "I’m fine."
Garrett moved away and lowered his voice. "Sam, did you see anything?"
"Looks like the fire might have started by the office," Sam said grimly.
"The painters were in there today."
Sam nodded. "Yeah and I told them there was no smoking in the barn and made one of them put out a cigarette. It looks like some rags they’d bundled into a trash bag might’ve been smoldering for awhile, that’s why there's so much smoke. There's a wall gone but it's not a supporting wall. Luckily everything was cleared out of there before they started."
"Do me a favor," Garrett said slowly. "Call and see if my brother’s on duty tonight. I’ll have him get those guys together and get to the bottom of this."
"The fire company is on its way, too," Ruth said.
Garrett looked at her as she came up behind Sam. Her head was covered with a cap and she wore a man’s black robe. She clutched the neckline and pulled it up to her neck as if she were cold.
"Christie, are okay?" Ruth asked.
Garrett turned to find Christie behind him. "I’m okay, thanks to Garrett."
"You’re going to the hospital." He put an arm around her shoulders and felt her stiffen.
"No hospital."
Garrett swore. "You need to be checked out."
She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "I won’t go." Her gaze met his squarely. "It’ll take more than you to get me there."
"Stubborn woman. We’ll talk about it inside." Garrett glanced quickly at Sam. "When the fire chief arrives let me know. I'll be at the house."
"Sure, boss, but I saw Marcus from the sheriff's office around here somewhere so I'm guessing he's been in contact with Randy. I’ll double check." Sam looked at Christie. "Are you sure you’re okay?"
"Fine."
Garrett reached out and lifted her off the ground and into his arms. She squirmed to pull her nightshirt down where it had ridden up over her knees. "Put me down, Garrett, I'm okay."
Garrett turned and strode with her to the house.
"Do you think it was deliberately set?" she asked, her voice shaky. "I still feel kind of confused. When I blacked out in the barn I don’t remember anything until I saw you looking down at me."
"It could have been catastrophic." Garrett felt sick thinking of the losses to human and animal life. "Every animal in the barn could have been wiped out." He tightened his arms when he felt a shudder shake her. Losing all of his animals didn't bear thinking about, but he couldn't deal with the thought of losing Christie. "God, Christie, you could have died."
"But I didn’t," she said firmly. "I’m okay."
Garrett let out a long breath. "I had an uneasy feeling and couldn’t sleep, so I checked the grounds. By the time I got to the barn, smoke was already beginning to pour out. I phoned Sam as I got into the barn but within seconds the smoke engulfed everything."
He shouldered his way through the kitchen door. Christie's arms had crept around his neck and he needed them there. He didn’t want to put her down, but he knew he would have to. He tightened his arms on her slim frame, the remembered fear skittering down his back.
"You can put me down now," she said. He continued through the house. "Garrett, really, I’m okay. The smoke was just so choking in there I got disoriented. Nothing happened."
Garrett entered his bedroom and stood just inside the threshold with her in his arms. Watching her look around the simply furnished room, Garrett was reluctant to put her down. "Sorry, the room’s a mess."
His arms tightened involuntarily as he thought of her sharing his queen size bed with him. When her attention settled on the rumpled bed Christie turned dark eyes to him. "Um, why don’t you put me down?"
He walked past the bed to the opposite side of the room. He decided it wasn’t a good idea; he and Christie in close proximity to a bed.
"I’d feel better taking you to the hospital," he said in a low voice.
"Let’s not argue about it. I won’t go, and you’re needed here. If I start to feel sick, I’ll let you know. I just need to get cleaned up."
"You can take a shower in here. I’m re-grouting the shower in the guest room." Garrett opened the door to his bathroom and flicked the light switch. "I’ve got to talk to the fire inspector. Randy will be here too, no doubt. The room is all yours. Take a shower and go to sleep. You look exhausted."
Christie’s hand came up and touched his cheek. "So do you," she said softly, trailing her fingers across his skin.
Garrett clenched his jaw. He could see their reflection in the mirrors lining one wall. "We both look like hell."
"But we’re alive," she said.
He knew how close they had come to a different ending tonight. Just thinking ab
out it made him want to keep her in his arms.
Christie stared at him intently, then she too turned to the bathroom mirror. She groaned aloud. "Oh my God, is that me?" Their eyes met in the mirror and she deliberately ran a glance over his soot-streaked cheeks and neck. Gently, she reached her fingers out once more to touch his jaw. "You saved my life Garrett. I guess that means my life is yours, huh?" The small smile playing at her lips looked sad.
He jerked his head back from contact with her fingertips, unable to stop his immediate reaction. He wanted her to touch him, but not in gratitude. A cold, heavy lump settled in his chest. As if she picked up on his doubt Christie dropped her arms and wriggled to be set free.
"Take a bath, a shower, stay in here as long as you like," he said shortly. "I'll dig up something for you to wear."
Slowly, Garrett loosened his hold and let her slide down his body. He watched her eyes, saw the awareness flicker deep in their depths, the same awareness he felt. Why did he tease himself with something he wouldn’t allow himself to have?
Garrett stood stiffly.. He had thought she was dead, and he had felt dead inside. It was a feeling he couldn't shake, some of that bone-deep despair still clung to him. Again he thought, what if she hadn’t started breathing on her own?
Needing a moment, he turned his back on her and leaned over the sink. He stared at the new bar of soap Ruth had placed there. Slowly, he gripped it and lathered his arms and hands. Grimly, he ripped his T-shirt off and flung it in the wastebasket. Right now the burnt odor clinging to him was just too much. Grimly, he met Christie’s gaze in the mirror. She stood slightly behind him, staring at him. She blinked and looked away, but not before he had seen the desire in her eyes.
Knowing he had to leave if he wasn’t going to blow his good intentions to hell, he quickly dried himself. "I have to go." Garrett backed out of the room. Christie stood still; dirty, disheveled ... lost. He stopped. "Are you okay?"
Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) Page 18
