~ Legacy Of Lies ~

by

Cindy A. Christiansen

Katelynn slipped on her suit jacket, grabbed her purse and suitcase, and stepped into the hall, half expecting to see her letter writer. Only the almond walls with beautiful ivy stenciling greeted her. She peeked back into the room one last time and ran a mental check to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. When she heard the door across the hall open and felt someone step up behind her, a shiver ran up her back. She swung around, accidentally hitting her suitcase into the man’s leg.

“You’re not only dangerous with a car, but you’re tough with a suitcase as well.” Walt reached down and rubbed his shin.

Sparkling gold flecks lit his brown eyes, making them dance. Her surprise at his clean-cut appearance, after seeing him dirty and disgusting the previous night, left her gawking. His wild, curly roan hair was neatly combed into place. His clean-shaven face exposed two deep crevices in his cheeks that joined his chiseled, dimpled jaw. Her heart started pounding, and she went weak inside. His tight black jeans and white shirt revealed his excellent physique. She cleared her throat.

Oh, Katelynn. You hate him, remember? Even though he’d hurt her, she still had a hard time getting over him. In fact, standing next to him now, she wasn’t certain she had. He was so alive, so masculine, so every bit a man. She had found him an attractive boy, but now, he stirred something deep inside that she’d never felt before.

Katelynn picked up her bag and moved to the right to go around him. “You’ll be happy to know I’m leaving.”

He stepped in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just came into town to kill a lamb, huh?”

She wanted to say something, but her throat felt totally constricted. It was happening again. She just couldn’t handle these kinds of situations, especially not back here in Comstock.

Think of some retort, Katelynn. What’s the matter with you?

Walt didn’t budge an inch to let her by, and she didn’t want to retreat from her position. A fresh gauze bandage covered the cut on his forehead, already soiled by a spot of blood the size of a dime.

The thought of him in pain made Katelynn feel sick and quivery inside, making her feel even more vulnerable. She pushed back her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Look, Mr. Jeffries--” she spat through her teeth.

“Mr. Jeffries?” Walt laughed. “It definitely wasn’t a nightmare I had last night after all,” he said, with rude sarcasm threading his voice. “You really are here. I thought wild horses couldn’t drag you back to Comstock.”

Katelynn tried to gather every bit of strength and composure she could muster. “I didn’t come back by choice.”

“We always have choices, Freckles.”

Katelynn blushed at hearing his nickname for her. “My choice is to leave right now. Do you mind?” She smiled her phoniest smile and attempted to push past him.

He reached down, firmly grabbing her left hand. “Little Freckles grew up and went to the big city. It doesn’t look to me like you’ve found another knight in shining armor yet. Don’t they make real men in California?”

Slipping out of his grasp, she fumbled around in her purse as though she were looking for something, all the while trying to think of some retort to make. “Don’t flatter yourself. I suppose you think lying in the street passed out drunk constitutes a real man.” She watched his jaw tighten and then pushed past him down the hall. Oh, if she could just cut him down a few notches.

“For your information, I wasn’t drunk, at least not yet.”

“Honestly, Walt, I can’t believe you’d go through all this trouble to see me again; first the letter, then the phony accident. You must have missed me madly. Did my leaving drive you to drink?”

“What the devil are you talking about?” Walt asked.

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m leaving.”

“Why did you come back, Kate? It’s too late to make amends with your father. He died eighteen months ago.”

His burrowing eyes stopped her from leaving. “I just found that out last night.”

In disbelief, he waved his hands in the air. “I don’t believe that.”

“I don’t care what you believe.” She tore herself away and stumbled down the hall with her suitcase.

“Why didn’t you come back when he died?”

“I just told you. I didn’t know until last night.”

“Is that it then? You came back to see him, thinking he was alive?” He reached out and gently touched her, a chill racing up her arm.

“Yes.”

“And so now what are you going to do?”

“I told you that, too. I’m leaving.”

“Without anything?”

Katelynn’s mind swam with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You aren’t worried about what inheritance he might have left you?”

“I…I hadn’t even thought about it.” The only thing she had ever wanted from her father was love.