Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) Read Online Free Page B

In truth, she had developed a slight
headache.
    "Sit." He indicated the
table behind her.
    She pulled out a heavy wooden
chair and sat down.
    He removed his hat and ran a hand
through dark blond hair. It had been combed back from his forehead in a smooth
wave, but the hat had flattened it and now his fingers caused further
disruption and several strands fell across his forehead.
    "Garrett!" A woman
called out from somewhere beyond the kitchen. "I hope you’re washed up for
dinner. I’m almost ready to serve."
    The woman who entered the kitchen
wore an old-fashioned blue calico dress down over her knees with a pristine
white apron in place. She was tall and somewhere in her sixties with tightly
curled iron gray hair. Bemused, Christie stared at the running shoes on the
woman’s feet. When she spotted Christie she stopped short, tossing Garrett what
looked like an accusing glance. She picked up a wooden spoon from a spoon rest
on the counter and waved it in the air. "You didn’t mention you had a
guest," she said tartly.
    Christie found herself being
scrutinized from head to toe. For a moment she wondered if she passed muster,
then straightened her shoulders. She was here to work in the barns and get to
know Hannah, not worry if the cook/housekeeper found her appearance acceptable.
    "And what have you done to
her!" The older woman hurried across the kitchen and without ceremony
tilted Christie’s chin up and moved the washcloth aside.
    Warily, Christie watched the spoon
waving in front of her eyes. "Just a bump," she murmured, discomfited
by the attention. "I’ve had worse."
    "This is Christie,"
Garrett said. "She’s going to be working here temporarily. Christie, meet
Ruth, my housekeeper." Garrett lifted a brow. "You’d better put that
spoon down before Christie thinks you’re going to smack her."
    "Hmmph," Ruth said.
    Christie didn’t know anyone could
actually make that sound into a word, but coming from Ruth, it definitely
sounded like a statement.
    Ruth put the spoon down and with
her hands on her hips stared at Garrett. "I knew when I saw Hannah that something
was up. You’d better tell me what’s happened."
    Garrett ran a hand around the back
of his neck. "Hannah was playing out by the road when one of the boys was
coming down the drive with the hay truck. Christie got her out of harm’s way
but hit her head in the process."
    Ruth nodded. "Hannah tried to
escape into her room, but I chased her down. She wouldn’t tell me anything, but
she did show me a scratch on her finger," Ruth added. "We put
antibiotic on it."
    "To make matters worse, Les
Doyle showed up."
    Ruth reached into an apron pocket
and pulled out a pair of glasses. She perched them on the end of her nose and
peered at Christie’s forehead. "You have to be careful with bumps on the
head." She looked directly into Christie’s eyes. "Are you feeling dizzy
at all? Nauseous?"
    "No, just a slight
headache."
    "A headache?" Garrett
jumped in. "You didn’t mention your head hurt."
    Ruth tsk-tsked. "Of course it
hurts, look at the size of that egg." She touched the tender area around
Christie’s eyebrow gently. "We’ll keep a watch over it, though I think
with all the worry about head injuries, she should probably go to the
hospital." She straightened. "And what’s this about Les?"
    "He came for Kim’s check.
He’d been drinking," Garrett said, an edge to his voice.
    "If he’d spend as much effort
looking for a job and keeping it, that man would make out a lot better,"
Ruth remarked. "I don’t know what Kim was thinking, marrying up with
him." Christie saw the sharp look Garrett gave Ruth. "Enough of that,"
Ruth said briskly. "Right now you two need to get cleaned up and I’ll
serve dinner. I’ll never hear the end of it if it’s cold."
    "I wouldn’t dare complain
about anything you serve," Garrett said, grinning.
    Christie relaxed. Ruth, for all
her gruff manner, reminded her of her own aunt Rose. She wondered if beneath
that starched