Read Guardian of the Fountain Online

Authors: Jennifer Bryce

Guardian of the Fountain (14 page)

      
“I guess.
Although, I never saw her in one until after her personality had ruined her
looks.”

      
“So, you
base your judgment of girls on things other than their looks. You just beat
Trey by a mile.” She paused and thought about it for a minute. “Well, I take
that back. He did have another criteria. He liked them easy. I don’t know why
he dated me for as long as he did—I didn’t give in. I guess it didn’t
matter because he was still getting it from somewhere else.”

      
“He sounds
like a winner,” Brant said.

      
“Oh, the
best. I just wish I could’ve shown up at his wedding with you as my date. That
would’ve been fun.”

      
“Yes, and I
would’ve played my part well.” Brant chuckled.

      
“How so?”
Chrissie asked.

      
“Well, we
would arrive in a chauffeured Bentley. We would have dressed in the finest
clothes, with expensive jewelry—tastefully done, as to avoid tackiness. After
all, we want to impress.” Brant kicked off his sandals and stretched out across
the grass. “And then I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

      
“Wow. That
really would have been great. This, all from a guy who drives a twenty-year-old
delivery truck.” “Well, I don’t like to be flashy, but this would be a special occasion,
and I’d take great delight in it.” He laughed. “Especially for the likes of Trey.”

      
“Ah,” she
sighed. “Music to my ears. The only thing he spent money on was ‘pimping’ his
truck. I paid for everything. I can see now why my dad never spoke one word to
him. At the time, I was so worried he would leave me that I did everything,
except sex, to keep him around. Now I see I was wasting my time.”

      
“So are we all
right?” Brant asked hopefully.

      
“Yeah,
we’re good. It’s not like we have a relationship that I can remember. I didn’t
think I had baggage, but when Valencia reappeared, it made me think of what
Trey did to me. Sorry about that. I guess I have a Trey bag, and then there’s the
sick bag, and the no memory bag …” She began to count off her emotional luggage
on her fingers. “Okay, I need a U-Haul.”

      
“That’s a
relief.” He exhaled. “I don’t know how to grovel very well. I tend to go
overboard. Hence the apartment full of flowers … it gets weird really quickly.”

      
“If I know
myself at all, I think I secretly liked it. I probably just didn’t tell you at
the time because I was trying to be mad.” Chrissie laughed. She reached over
and squeezed his hand appreciatively that he stuck around even after her stupid
girl tantrums.

 
 
 

Chapter
18

 
 
 

Chrissie
called her mom when she could, but most of the phone calls were full of static
because the satellite phone didn’t get very good reception. Cell towers would
probably never come here. It had been four months since she had arrived in
Venezuela, and her mom was probably wondering why she didn’t call more often.

“Hello?”
Dianne’s voice was music to Chrissie’s ears.

“Mom?”
Chrissie choked out.

“Honey!
I’ve been waiting for you to call me for so long. I almost gave up and bought a
plane ticket to come find you myself.”

“I
know. I’m sorry. I don’t have a cell and there isn’t a landline here where I am
staying, so I have to borrow a phone when I get the chance.”

“How
do you feel?”

“Much
better. The experimental treatment they have me on is working great. Best part
is that it’s completely natural, with no side effects.” Chrissie stood out on
the front step of the mansion because that’s where the reception was best.

“So
do you think you can come home now?”

“Probably
not for a while. The treatment needs to be fresh and can only be found here. So
I need to stay here for a while longer until they give me the thumbs-up to
leave.”

The
secret about having a baby in four months was another good reason to stay away
from her parents. How was she supposed to explain that? She needed more time to
figure out what she was going to tell them. “How’s Dad?”

“Oh,
he’s good. He’s been putting in a few more hours at work. I think he’s trying
to put aside some money to come get you. Actually, I’ve been doing the same. I
just haven’t said anything to him.”

“Poor
Dad.”

“So,
how are things? ”

“That’s
easy. Arturo and María have been marvelous. They have a nice garden, and María
feeds me six meals a day and lets me sleep in.”

“That
sounds like you have a pretty perfect setup.”
                       

“It
is, really.” How was Chrissie supposed to explain to her mom about Brant?
Mom, there’s this guy here too. He is really
cute and we sort of dated before I got sick. Oh, yeah, P.S. he could be the
father of my unborn baby, but I really don’t know. Isn’t that great?

“I’ve
got to pick up your father from work. His Chevy’s transmission is out again and
he’s without wheels. He’s a little bit cranky.” Static filled the line. “Hey, hon,
before I lose you. I love you.”

“I
love you too, Mom.”

“You
hurry and get better so you can come home.”

“Bye,
Mom.” Chrissie closed Brant’s phone, walked inside, and set it on the desk in
the library. Satellite phones were very inconvenient. Even though Brant was
loaded, she hated to ask him to use the phone because she didn’t want to be a
nuisance.
   

Her
clothes were snug around the middle now, and she had to play Houdini with them
to conceal her baby bump. She had stopped puking in the mornings about a month
ago and felt like she might survive the pregnancy thing. María had kept true to
her word and hadn’t said anything to Arturo and especially Brant.

      
Brant had
been wonderful to her, taking her on weekly dates and trying to spend as much
time with her as possible when he wasn’t trying to run his business. Right now
was his busiest time of the season, and she hadn’t seen him very much for the
last couple of weeks. He was gone before she woke up in the morning and came
home after she was in bed. She heard his bedroom door shut every night around
midnight.

      
Chrissie
walked into her room and took off her fuzzy pink bathrobe. It did a nice job of
hiding things. Her blue cotton shorts and white tank were much cooler to sleep
in. She slept like an overheated furnace at night, with all the covers kicked
off and the window wide open. Her ceiling fan could only go so fast.
 

      
She tried
to go to sleep, but for the last few weeks, every time she closed her eyes, she
would see Franco’s face in her mind. Her nightmare began with Franco in a hotel
room, staring down at her.

      
“You know,”
Franco said in her dream, “this baby could be mine, for all you know. I was the
last one to see you conscious.”

      
Chrissie
bolted up in her bed, sweating, and went to her bathroom to splash water on her
face and the back of her neck. She looked over at her clock and saw it was one
in the morning. She wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep that night. Her
mind flashed back to her first nightmare of Franco, and how Brant comforted
her. The dark circles under her eyes told her how to fix this dilemma.

      
Chrissie
pulled on an oversized T-shirt and padded down to Brant’s room. His door was
almost closed. She softly knocked. “Brant?”

      
She could hear
his sheets rustling somewhere in the dark, and a dim light turned on.
 
“Yes? Come in.”

      
Chrissie
pushed the door open. “I can’t sleep.”

      
Brant pulled
back the edges of the covers and motioned for Chrissie to slide into his bed.
“Did you have another nightmare?”

      
Chrissie
nodded “Franco.”

      
“Well, I’m
glad you came to find me.” Brant smiled. His eyes looked tired, and his hair
was messy.

He
looked really cute at that moment. Chrissie laid down her head on his large
down pillow. He turned off the light and settled himself back into bed. Pretty
soon, Chrissie could hear his soft snore, and it soothed her to sleep in no
time.

      
In the
morning, the light tried to peek through the cracks of the heavy drapes hanging
in Brant’s room. Brant’s arm draped around Chrissie as she slept snuggled into
him.

Chrissie
yawned and stretched. She could tell by Brant’s breathing pattern that he was
semi-awake too. “You’re late for work.”

“It
can wait. Besides, I’m done with all the deliveries, and I’ve got a pretty girl
in my arms.” He pulled her tighter into the embrace.

Chrissie’s
belly jumped. She could feel the baby inside roll over and kick.

“Chrissie.”
Brant’s voice sounded an octave higher. “What was that?”

Chrissie
froze.

“Uh .
. .” Chrissie jumped out of bed like there was a snake in it. Her eyes were
wide with fear and embarrassment. Sometime during the night, she had gotten hot
and taken off her oversized T-shirt. Her tank revealed a nice round midriff
poking out over the top of her tiny shorts.

Brant
stared at her belly as she tried to pull her tank over her swollen abdomen.

“Blast!
You’re pregnant,” he breathed.

 
 
 

Chapter
19

 
 
 

Chrissie
turned and dashed out of his room. Her body felt heavy as she tried to push it
down the hall. She ran all the way to her room and slammed the door shut,
locking it behind her. Kneeling down to look under her bed, she found her
suitcase and pulled it out. Her hands flew as she began stuffing her suitcase
with all her belongings. She had to force the suitcase to zip shut from everything
being stuffed into it. Good thing it had rollers so she could drag it behind
her.

The
handle pulled up with a quick jerk, and she threw open the bedroom door. Her
flip-flops were the quickest shoes she could find to put on her feet, but they
made her clumsier than she already was as she tried to run down the hall. Down
the stairs she dragged the suitcase, clunking down each step. Every sound
seemed to echo through the mansion.

All
of the vehicle keys were kept in the kitchen on hooks by the back door. She
recognized the Datsun’s and retrieved them.

Good thing Daddy taught me to drive a
stick
.

She
could hear Brant’s hurried footsteps run around the top floor as she escaped
out the back door. Not bothering to close it, she ran to the garage.

The
suitcase was hard to stuff in the backseat. She jammed the key into the
ignition and felt the engine purr to life.
 
Her haste to escape, coupled with the baby taking room inside of her made
breathing difficult. She needed all the air she could get in her panicked dash
away from Brant.

      
Brant
bolted out the large French doors in his drawstring pajamas. He ran across the
gravel in his bare feet to reach the car before it took off. Chrissie saw him
and pushed on the gas to peel out of the garage. He launched himself onto the
hood of the blue Datsun.

His
knuckles were white as he grasped the hood of the car. “Stop, Chrissie!”

Tears
streamed down her cheeks. How could she face him now that he knew? He would
never want her now. How ashamed she was of herself. How foolish she looked for
not telling him sooner.

“Stop,
Chrissie!” he yelled.

She
shook her head and continued speeding out to the only road off the property. Hormone
crazed autopilot had taken over driving the Datsun.

“Damn
it! Stop!” His body slid from side-to-side across the hood as Chrissie swerved,
trying to look around him. “I’m not letting go until you stop!”

He
should never yell at a crying pregnant woman. Didn’t he know it just made
things worse? Her crying amped up another notch, and now she was hysterical as
she tried to see around him to drive. By the looks of things, he was going to
hold on all the way to the airport.

“Please,”
Brant tried to yell over the revved-up engine and past the glass windshield.
“Don’t take our baby away from me.”

“What?”
Chrissie stomped on the brakes.

Brant
flew off the hood of the car and rolled across the dirt road and into the
grass. Luckily, Chrissie’s speed hadn’t reached maximum speeds but it didn’t
stop her from screaming and hopping out of the car, leaving it in idle as she
ran to him.

“I
killed him.” Her face still dripped unceasingly with tears. She stood over him
as he lay completely still. Okay, maybe she didn’t kill him he couldn’t die
very easily, but what if he was hurt.

“No,
you didn’t.” He rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow. His eyebrow
arched as he looked up at her. “I’m harder to get rid of than that. I drank the
water, remember?” He stood up and dusted the grass and dirt off his bare chest
and pajama bottoms. “But I still may be beastly sore tomorrow. What in the hell
are you doing, anyway?” He raised his voice. “You are not in your right mind!”

“You
shouldn’t have jumped onto the hood of the car!” Chrissie cringed and buried
her face in her hands. She cried harder, rocking back and forth as she knelt.

 
“Don’t yell at me.” Her shoulders began
to shake as her crying regained intensity.

“Well,
what am I supposed to do? You took off out of here like a bat out of hell.
Where do you think you were going?” Brant stared down at her.

“I
don’t know—away!” Chrissie yelled back through her tears. “To Texas or
something.”

“Why?”
Brant’s face softened as he helped her off the ground and wrapped his arms
around her. “Why?” His eyes looked moist.

“I
knew you wouldn’t want me anymore if you found out. I don’t even know who this
baby belongs to. I’m damaged goods now.” Chrissie buried her face in his chest.

“No,
you are not.” He tilted up her chin and looked her in the eye. “You are not
damaged goods. This is our baby.” He placed a large, warm hand affectionately
on her belly.

“How
do you know that?” Chrissie sniffled. “I certainly don’t remember the deed that
got me in this condition.”

“Because
we’re married.” Brant dropped a bomb on Chrissie.

“Married?”
Chrissie hiccupped.

“For
one night before you took ill. We eloped. You’re not damaged at all. Besides,
it doesn’t matter.” Brant shook his head. “I would love this baby no matter
what.”

“You
would?” Chrissie said between hiccups.

“Yes,
I would. Don’t doubt it. I’m sorry—I didn’t react very well. I was so
shocked that something was moving inside you.” Brant rubbed Chrissie’s back up
and down in an effort to calm her. “Besides, you would have fought with all you
had if someone forced himself on you, and there were no signs of physical
trauma. They were just looking for your vials. He got what he had come for and
left.” Brant released Chrissie from his embrace.

“What
happened in that hotel room?” Chrissie wiped her tears away with the back of
her hands.

“I
wish I knew the details. Only you and Franco know exactly.” Brant walked over
to the car, turned it off, and guided Chrissie back along the road to the
mansion. Early morning light streamed into the kitchen windows as they came in.
He sat Chrissie at the table and poured her a cup of peppermint tea. He sat
down across from her. “Again, sorry for my reaction. I was just so surprised.”

“Yeah,
you did look a bit shocked.” Chrissie hiccupped again.

“Well,
give a guy some credit. I looked over and saw this frail girl with a perfectly
round belly that I had no clue about. How did I miss that?” He pointed to her
small bulge.

“You’ve
been busy lately, and I tried to hide it.” Chrissie stirred some honey into her
tea.

“You
shouldn’t have hidden something that important,” Brant softly scolded.

Chrissie
cleared her throat. “Um-hum, Mister. You hid the fact that we’re married.”

“Well,
you needed to make the choice to stay, since you don’t remember any of our
courtship,” Brant defended. “The only way I was able to get you here in the
first place is when Arturo put me on the phone with your mom. I told her I thought
you were being followed, I was positive I had a cure, and I loved you.”

“Whatever.
I still think you should’ve told me from the beginning.” It stung Chrissie that
her mom knew more than she let on. Then logic set into her mind—she was probably
just doing her best to protect Chrissie.

“Remember
what happened when you found out I drank the water? You fainted.” Brant sipped
his tea. “Stress is no bueno for Chrissie.”

“I
guess you’re right. If you told me we’re married, I wouldn’t have believed
you.”

“Look
at us, arguing like an old married couple.” Brant smiled to lighten the moment,
then got up and started fixing breakfast for the both of them. “If María was
here she’d be so proud. Maybe we can give her a good argument when she gets
back from the village.”

“Will
you tell me about the night we got married?”

“Sure.”
Brant cracked an egg into the hot skillet. “It was a magical night. We chose to
get married in the little stone chapel that was built when Father Delgado first
came. The sun was setting and shone through the stained-glass window as we
exchanged our vows, and it wasn’t till death do us part. It was forever.”

      
“Sounds
beautiful.”

      
“It was. María
was a blubbery mess, and even Arturo was teary. You wore a white lace knee-length
dress. Your hair was down around your shoulders, with a flower behind your ear.
María made you a bouquet from a large assortment of blossoms from the garden.
There were even tiny pink chrysanthemums in it.” Brant smoothed down her hair
as Chrissie laid her head on his shoulder, watching him cook.

      
“Keep
going.”

      
“After we
said ‘I do,’ we took the Audi to Caracas to stay in a fancy hotel. Our room was
the penthouse on the top floor. You were impressed that we had our own pool and
hot tub in our suite. You ran from room to room exploring, your face all lit up
with excitement. You told me that the fanciest hotel you ever stayed in was the
Best Western in California when you went to Disneyland with your parents. I sat
on the bed watching and enjoying your enthusiasm. You came running into the
room and jumped onto the bed. You tried to get me to jump with you, but I told
you no—I would break it.”

      
“Then what
happened?” Chrissie asked. She wasn’t crying any more, since Brant’s story was
captivating her.

      
“I can’t
tell you without trying to recreate it.” Brant laughed.

      
“Oh.”
Chrissie blushed. “That’s the part I wish I remembered the most. I kind of feel
like I’m recreating the Bible story of a certain virgin.” She smirked.

Brant
put two plates of fried eggs and toast on the table in front of them. “I left
the next morning to order some breakfast from my favorite bakery on the corner
by the hotel. I came back, and the rest is history. My life fell apart right
there.” He paused for a second and then asked, “What happened to you since you
left?”

“It
seems like ages ago. I only remember waking up in the Dallas hospital, but my
mom said I was in and out of it since she came to get me in Caracas. I don’t
remember Arturo being at the hospital. I do remember all the puzzled doctors
and specialists trying to nail down a prognosis. I felt terrible.” Chrissie
shuddered. “The fevers and headaches were constant until I came here. My mom
and dad did their best to care for me, but I think it was hard on them. Heck,
it was hard on me. Here I was, back living with my parents because I couldn’t
care for myself. After living out on my own for a few years, it was more
humbling than I expected. I enjoy independence.”

Chrissie
ate in contemplative silence. She cleared the table and took all the dishes to
the sink to wash them. Sometimes she preferred washing dishes by hand. It gave
her time to think. The warm, sudsy water felt good on her hands. Brant came to help
her dry the dishes and put them away.

“What
are you thinking about, Brant?” Chrissie drained the sink and rinsed down the
last of the suds.

Brant
leaned against the sink and folded his arms across his chest. “I have a billion
things running through my mind at once.” He pulled Chrissie over and gathered
her into a bear hug.

      
“Well,
start with one and go down the list,” Chrissie whispered.

      
“For one
thing, in all my years, I have never found someone I love as deeply as I do
you. I’m scared that you’ll choose to leave me in the end. Then on top of that,
I’m happy that we’re expecting. They’re sort of conflicting feelings.”

      
“You’re
happy?” Chrissie asked hopefully.

      
“Yes.”
Brant’s solid affirmation echoed through the kitchen. “But I’m afraid you would
take this baby with you if you decided to leave, taking everything that’s important
to me with you … my family.”

      
“Make me
want to stay,” Chrissie whispered.

      
Brant
released her only to grab her face and pull her tightly to him in a deep,
passionate kiss. The heat that pulsed between them rippled down to her soul.
Brant slid his hands down her neck and kept continuing on down her back. He
kissed her like he was hungry for her.

      
Chrissie
began knocking down the walls in her head to let him in. Tears slipped down her
cheeks as she grabbed his back, clinging to every second with him. A memory
flashed across her mind of herself in a figure-hugging white lace dress, and
she was smiling at her reflection in the mirror. She gasped, and Brant took the
cue to push the heat farther. His hands slid up the back of her tank, sending
shivers down her spine and hips.

      
“I remember
me in the dress,” Chrissie said breathlessly between kisses.

      
“You do?
That’s nice,” he said as he trailed his kisses down her neck. But then he released
her as quickly as he had attacked. “What am I doing?” He took two steps sideways
and sat down on the counter, raking his fingers through his hair to calm down.
“You said you remembered.”

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