Miss Lizzy's Legacy (7 page)

She flipped several pages and pointed again. “This is a picture of my great-grandfather William Leighton Sawyer at the age of nine months. His grandmother, Mary Elizabeth's mother, is holding him. From what my great-grandfather has told me, his grandparents never forgave Mary Elizabeth for running away and bringing shame on the family. They never allowed the mention of her name in their home. When he was old enough to demand answers, he was told she was nothing but a selfish little trollop and it was his fault she was dead.

“The Sawyers were strict and unforgiving people. After living with them, my great-grandfather understood why his mother might have run away and he developed an empathy for her. Along with that, he carried the guilt that he was the cause of her death.”

She sighed. “I came here at his request to take a picture of her burial spot and find out what I could about her and her life here.” She felt the burn of frustrated tears and batted them back. “I wish I'd never come. With what I've discovered so far, I tend to believe the Sawyers were right about their daughter. I hate to ruin Papa's image of her.”

Callie's anger and dislike of the woman surprised Judd, for he'd never known of anyone who'd disliked Miss Lizzy. “You don't think much of the woman, do you?”

“And why should I? She was obviously as selfish and spoiled as her parents claimed. Otherwise, she would have kept her son with her and raised him herself instead of lying about her death and shipping her baby off to her parents to raise.”

“How do you know she lied about her death?”

“Well, it's obvious, of course. There's simply no other explanation.” Callie saw the doubt in his eyes, and her shoulders sagged in frustration. “Look. I know you don't believe me, but I swear everything I've told you is the truth.” With nothing else to offer other than her word and what little proof her great-grandfather had supplied her, she waited, silently watching for Judd's reaction.

He held the book in place and turned back to the first page, comparing the photographs. That they were old, was obvious, but as far as Judd was concerned the pictures didn't prove a thing. There were quite a few early settlers who came to the Oklahoma Territory in hopes of escaping or forgetting what they'd left behind. Mary Elizabeth Sawyer obviously had been one of them, for nothing was known of her prior to her arrival in Guthrie. Oh, there had been rumors, lots of them. But Judd wasn't a man to place much stake in rumors. He had heard enough about himself to know rumors were more often fiction than fact.

He tipped his head to look up at Callie. “If Mary Elizabeth's baby lived, how do you explain the grave out at Summit View?”

“I can't. That's why I'm staying here until I find out the truth.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I don't know. I suppose I could hire a lawyer and have some type of legal document drawn to have the grave exhumed.”

“Seems a little drastic, don't you think?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Judd shook his head. “No. Not at the moment.” Slowly, he closed the cover on the album, then laid it aside. Though his curiosity was aroused, this little nightmare wasn't his to deal with. All he needed was an acceptance of his apology from the woman to appease his mother, then he could go home and forget Callie Benson and her family's problems.

He dipped his head and shuffled his feet a moment before lifting his gaze to hers again. “Well, are you going to forgive me for the way I treated you?”

The eyes that met Callie's looked sincere enough, but dang it, a simple apology for all she'd suffered at his hand didn't seem quite fair.

Judd saw her hesitation and hoped to ease it by offering a teasing grin. “If you don't, my mother's going to have my hide.”

Callie eyed him a moment, trying not to smile at the image of the petite little Molly Barker taking a piece out of her strapping son's hide. “I might consider accepting your apology,” she replied thoughtfully.

Judd's brow puckered. “You might?”

“Yeah. I might.” Her arms crossed at her breasts, Callie circled him, her mind ticking away at the possibilities. This man had insulted her at every meeting, treated her like a piece of dirt he'd scraped off his boot, yet for some crazy reason, his kiss haunted her, and Callie didn't have time for any more ghosts. The life of Mary Elizabeth Sawyer was enough to lose sleep over for the present.

“Words are cheap, Barker,” she finally said. “I think I'd like something with a little more substance by way of an apology.”

Feeling like a rabbit cornered by a hound, Judd turned also, keeping a watchful eye on her. “And what would that be?”

Callie stopped, blocking his path to the door as she looked up at him. “I want you to kiss me again.”

J
udd's eyes widened. “You want me to what?”

“I want you to kiss me like you did last night.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Why?”

Callie met his gaze squarely. “Let's just call it an experiment.”

“What kind of experiment?”

She heaved a frustrated breath. “Do you want me to accept your apology or not?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“No buts. Either kiss me or go tell your mother I wouldn't accept your apology.”

Judd glanced around, half expecting to find a hidden camera or at the least a tape recorder, but saw nothing but a suitcase and a scattering of clothes. “A kiss,” he repeated, returning his gaze to hers. “Just a kiss and that's all?”

“That's it.”

He tossed his hat to the bed and sighed. “This has to be the craziest thing I've ever done.”

He stepped up to her and placed his hands at her waist. “Are you ready?”

At his touch, Callie's breath knotted in her throat. “Yes,” she murmured.

His face lowered, blocking the bedside lamp's soft light. Automatically, Callie closed her eyes and lifted her face to his. This is it, she thought. Her chance to prove to herself that Judd Barker's kiss was no different than any other man's. The passion she remembered from the night before, the yearning she'd attributed to it, was nothing but a product of her own overactive imagination.

But then his lips met hers and she lost the ability to reason. Warmth. Heat. A taste that made her thirsty for more. His kiss was everything she'd remembered, imagined...and more. Her lips parted in response to him.

Judd had meant to plant an innocent kiss, take his apology and get the hell out of Dodge. But something happened between intent and exit that kept him glued to that spot of carpet, his hands at her waist, his mouth pressed against hers.

He'd kissed a lot of women in his day, some whose names he couldn't even remember, but none with the passion this woman possessed. At the first touch, she had his heart slamming against his rib cage and his blood temperature shooting up about ten degrees.

An ache throbbed to life deep within him. To ease it, he caught her hips in his hand and dragged her close. He tasted as well as felt her moan of pleasure seconds before she tore her lips from his. The sting of disappointment at her withdrawal hit him sharp and fast.

She pressed her forehead to his, her chest heaving, her fingernails digging into his biceps. “I was afraid of that,” she murmured.

“Afraid of what?”

She lifted her face, her eyes as wide and as full of fear as a rabbit's caught in a beam of headlights. “Afraid that it was as good as I remembered.”

A chuckle rumbled low in Judd's chest. He didn't know if the reaction was from relief—to discover that she was as affected as he by the kiss—or the openness of her admission. Whatever the reason, he hugged her tight against him. “Did you expect less?”

“No,” she whispered against his chest. “But I'd hoped.”

He levered a finger beneath her chin and lifted, tipping her face up to his. The heat radiating from her eyes made his own burn in response. “Is the experiment over?”

Her lips trembled a one-word response. “Y-yes.”

“And the results? Were they what you wanted?”

“Yes.” She saw the flicker of knowledge in his eyes, telling her he knew she lied. Already regretting her impulsive request for him to kiss her, she dropped her gaze and swallowed hard. “No,” she murmured.

“Maybe we should give it another try.”

Her gaze flew to meet his. “No, please—” But his lips were already on hers. His hands slid down her back again to cup the cheeks of her backside. His knees bent slightly as he dipped to match the length of his body to hers. Desire sliced through her, sharp and biting.

He rolled his hips from side to side in a maddeningly slow rhythm, his groin rubbing against hers, the swell of his manhood as evident to her as the dig of his belt buckle against her waist.

Passion became something tangible, something she could taste, feel...a need that cried out for satisfaction. A sob welled in her throat.

This shouldn't be happening, she told herself even as her fingers moved to his chest. This man was all but a stranger. Stephen should be the one kissing her this way, Stephen who evoked these feelings in her. Nice, safe Stephen whom she'd known most of her life. Why couldn't
he
make her feel this way? Yet, she'd kissed Stephen a thousand times and not once had she ever wanted to fling aside convention and roll naked with him on the floor.

But she wanted to with Judd Baker. She wanted to go on kissing him until somehow he quenched this thirst. She wanted to feel his skin heat beneath her hands. She wanted to feel the strength of his muscles tighten against her bare skin. She wanted—God, how she wanted.

Judd wasn't sure what he wanted anymore. He'd thought it was to give her a kiss, get his apology accepted and get out, but that purpose was slowly going up in smoke to be replaced by a stronger desire to make love to this woman. And that was something that hadn't happened to him in a long time.

His hands still cupped at her buttocks, he lifted, inching her body up the length of his, until her toes cleared the floor. He held her against him, until the pounding of his blood eased in his ears, then slowly he crossed the short distance to the bed.

He braced first one knee atop the mattress, then the other and bent until she lay beneath him, his lips still melded to hers. He slipped his hands from beneath her and slowly eased his weight down until he stretched across her length. Knotting his fingers in the mahogany hair puddled at her shoulders, he pulled his lips from hers, holding himself upright by digging his elbows in the mattress.

He stared down into blue eyes glazed silver with passion for long seconds, searching for any sign of fear. When he didn't find anything but amazement, a slow smile curved one corner of his mouth. “Am I forgiven now?”

Callie closed her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, sure that now that he'd gotten what he'd come for, he would leave, but not at all certain that was what she wanted him to do.

“Good.” He lifted a finger to move a strand of hair away from her face. “You know, you throw quite a punch.”

She opened her eyes, surprised to find he didn't appear to be in any hurry to leave. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your kiss. I had to check twice to make sure my lips hadn't melted plumb off my face.”

His comment was so unexpected, Callie sputtered a laugh, her breasts bobbing against his chest. “You throw quite a punch yourself.”

“That a fact?” He eased off her to lay at her side while he allowed his fingers to drift to her shirt's top button. He felt the hitch in her breathing when his arm inadvertently rubbed across a turgid nipple. Rather than unbutton the button, he toyed with it, watching her chest rise and fall in increasing speed with each brush of his knuckles against her bare skin. Another time, he might have felt a swell of pleasure to know he affected a woman in such a way, but at the moment he was too busy trying to keep his hand from trembling to notice much else.

A year. A long, lonesome year without the pleasure of a woman's company, much less the release a man found with one. He shifted again, trying to ease the pressure building inside his jeans. He locked his hip when he heard the rustle of paper beneath him and the soft plop of something hitting the floor. He raised up to peer over the side of the bed.

Headlines glared up at him from papers scattered on the floor. Judd Barker Arrested After Raping Fan.

He doubled over as if he'd been shot. He clamped his hands over his face, blocking out the sight, but the images continued to slam at him. Flashing cameras, reporters shoving microphones under his nose, jeering faces. The humiliation, the pain...the loneliness.

No, he roared inwardly.
No!
Dragging his hands down his face, he stumbled to his feet. His boots ground against the papers in his haste to escape the unwanted reminder.

Without looking, Callie knew the cause of distress on Judd's face. That she was responsible for it, made her heart wrench in her chest. She rolled to a sitting position, her hand outstretched, reaching for him. “Judd, please,” she begged. “I can explain.”

He staggered to the door like a man wounded. “No. There's no need.” He twisted open the door and, without looking back, said, “I'll have a key made for the room you rented and leave it at the front desk with Frank.”

* * *

Afternoon sunshine warmed Judd's back through the plate-glass window behind him and threw an irritating glare on the pages of the liquor inventory he worked on. He slapped a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed at the tensed muscles there. Between the sun and the noise drifting down from upstairs, he was having a hell of a time keeping his mind on his order.

Judging by the amount of noise coming from above him, Callie had picked up the key he'd left with Frank. Shoving, dragging, scraping. Tall ceilings and hardwood floors magnified all the sounds and grated on the only good nerve he had left. He shoved back the chair, raking his fingers through his hair. “Jesus! What is she doing up there?”

From his post behind the bar, Hank shrugged and continued to polish glasses. “Don't know, boss. Sounds like she's destroying the place. Want me to see what she's up to?”

“No, I sure as hell don't.” Judd dropped back down in his chair and began furiously shuffling the scattered pages back into a semblance of order.

Hank bit back a grin as he went back to his polishing. He hadn't seen his boss this worked up over a woman in longer than he cared to remember.

A loud thump shook the ceiling above them and both Judd and Hank tipped their chins upward, half expecting the ceiling to come crashing down on their heads. Judd stole a glance at the stairway that led to the second floor, thinking maybe he ought to go up and check on her. Growling under his breath, he hitched his chair beneath his rear end and scooted around the table until his back faced the staircase. No, he wasn't going upstairs. She could damn well fall through the ceiling and break her neck before he climbed those stairs.

He plopped his elbows on the table, clamped his hands over his ears and tried hard to block out the sounds coming from above as he squinted at the inventory in front of him. He'd done a pretty decent job of accomplishing just that when a huge crash sent debris crumbling from the ceiling and spattering his work. He would have ignored that as well, but unfortunately a blood-curdling scream followed it.

Judd and Hank both bolted for the stairway. Judd beat the other man by a good two strides. At the top of the stairs, Judd stopped, his gaze slicing across the room, searching for a sign of her. He saw her crouched against the far corner, hugging her arms to her breasts. Alligator-size tears streamed down her face.

“Callie!” He charged toward her, shoving boxes out of the way. He dropped to one knee in front of her. “Are you all right?”

She hurled herself into his arms, her fingernails digging into his biceps as she tried to climb up his body. Bracing himself to remain erect, Judd stood, bringing her up with him.

“Oh, God, it was awful,” she cried, burying her face against his shoulder.

Shocked by the raw fear in her voice, Judd slowly eased an arm around her and awkwardly patted a hand to her back. “What was awful?”

“I was moving a box over there,” she said, releasing her grip on him only long enough to point. “And this huge rat leapt out at me.” A fresh wave of shudders shook her from head to toe, and she buried her face against Judd's chest.

“A rat?” he repeated, cutting a glance at Hank over the top of her head.

“Yes,” she sobbed. “He was huge and ugly and had beady eyes and yellow teeth.”

Hank turned his back to smother a laugh. “I'll go downstairs, boss, and find some mousetraps.”

“Good idea,” Judd murmured, wishing he'd thought of it first; then he wouldn't be cornered here with Callie in his arms. He continued to pat her on the back with one hand, while he dug the other into his back pocket. He pulled out his handkerchief and stepped back, dipping his knees to look at her face. “Better now?” he asked.

Her head bobbed slowly. He dabbed at the tears wetting her cheeks. “We'll set some traps and put out some poison tonight.”

Her head bobbed again, her eyes riveted on his as she murmured a barely audible, “Thank you.”

He took another step away, stuffing the wet handkerchief back in his pocket. “Well, I guess I'd better be getting back down to the bar.”

Callie laid a hand on his arm to stop him. “Wait, please.” His muscles tensed beneath her fingertips, and she withdrew her hand to clutch it with her other at her waist. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“No problem. That's what landlords are for.” He started to turn away, but her voice stopped him.

“Judd? I'm sorry. Really I am.”

He knew her apology had nothing to do with the rat or interrupting his work. She referred to the copies on the floor of her hotel room. He glanced away. “It's not important.”

“Yes, it is. I know those articles drew memories you'd rather forget. It was my fault they were there and I'm sorry for that.”

Though he would rather have dropped the subject and returned to the sanctuary of the bar, he had to ask one question—the one that had kept him up most of the night. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her. “Why were those pictures hidden in your bed?”

“I was looking at them when you knocked. Rather than have you see them, I stuffed them under the bedspread.”

Anger burned, tightening his throat and making his voice harsh. “Why'd you even have the damn things?”

“I was curious.” Her face throbbed in embarrassment, but she knew she had to explain. After the pain she'd caused him, she owed him that much. “No one has ever kissed me the way you did, or made me feel that way before.” She gathered her hands into a tight fist in front of her. “I just wanted to know something about you. That's all.”