His gaze drifted across the auditorium from the floor to the highest balcony, noting that the concert was a sellout. The funds raised would enable the Historical Society to progress even more quickly with their plans for Guthrie’s restoration. In so doing, they would capitalize on some of Oklahoma’s tourist trade, creating jobs for Guthrie residents and attracting new business to the area. That he was a part of that effort filled him with pride, for it was one more step in fulfilling his debt to his hometown.
He turned his gaze to the front row reserved for members of the restoration group who were responsible for tonight’s success. Myrna, Gertie, Eddy, his mother. They’d all worked hard to put together this fund-raiser. Even more would be required of them now to put the funds to good use. But what a difference it would make for Guthrie.
Applause erupted as the song ended, interrupting his thoughts. He chuckled when he saw his mother stick her fingers between her teeth and let out a shrill whistle. He’d seen her do that very thing when he’d been on the stage. She’d been so proud of him, so supportive while he’d struggled his way to the top of the country charts. She’d never once condemned him or doubted him, she’d just offered her unqualified love. While he continued to stare at her, regret swelling in his chest for all the mud that had been slung on their name, Molly turned in her seat and grinned at the woman next to her. Judd’s heart stopped when he saw the woman’s face.
Callie.
“Oh, God,” he whispered under his breath. Before he could decide to run or stand, Casey was beside him, breathing hard and blotting the perspiration from her face. “Whew!” she sighed. “What a crowd!”
His heart felt as if it were being ripped in two, yet Judd kept his emotions from showing as he nodded toward the audience. They were on their feet, clapping wildly and shouting for more. “I think they want to hear another one.”
Casey beamed. “My pleasure.”
Before Judd knew what was happening, she had him by the hand and had lifted the mike. “Look who I found hiding backstage,” she called to the audience as she dragged him back on stage with her. If possible, the applause and shouting rose in intensity.
“How would y’all like Judd and me to sing one together?”
The crowd went crazy, stamping their feet and shouting.
Judd tugged at his hand. “No, Casey. I can’t.”
She shook her head, keeping her gaze on him as she turned the mike to her mouth. “I can’t believe this, but I think he’s going to need some persuading.” She cut a conspiratorial look at the audience. “Can you help me out?”
The cry started from somewhere in the back and rolled forward, building to a deafening roar. “We want Judd! We want Judd!”
Fear coiled in his stomach as he looked out at the audience. He couldn’t sing. Not now. Not ever.
But then he saw Callie, sitting beside his mother, her hands pressed against her lips, her eyes wide and filled with hope. She’d said she loved him, and he believed her. She’d also said she wouldn’t live in the prison he’d created for himself. He believed that, as well. He was getting a little tired of those walls himself.
Callie wanted it all or nothing. As he looked at her, he knew he was prepared to give her everything for one more chance at her heart. Praying that his offer didn’t come too late, he swallowed hard and turned to Casey, giving her a tight nod.
Laughing, Casey waved a hand in the air to quiet down the crowd. “I believe we’ve talked him into it.” She turned to the band. “How about ‘Islands In The Stream’?”
A few chords were strummed while a band member passed Judd a mike. He accepted it reluctantly, testing its weight in his hand as he let the familiar equipment work its own form of comfort.
The first chords of the lead-in pulsed around him, and Judd’s mouth went dry. He feared that when he opened his mouth to sing, not a sound would come out. He glanced at Callie and their gazes touched and meshed. The love in her eyes and her belief in him electrified him with a sense of power he hadn’t experienced in over a year. He closed his eyes and let the music take him.
“Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown
I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb
I was soft inside, there was something going on”
His words were shaky at first, but grew in strength and emotion as the crowd welcomed him back.
Casey stepped next to him, twining an arm at his waist as she joined her voice with his.
“You do something to me that I can’t explain.
Hold me closer and I feel no pain...”
A smile slowly built on Judd’s face as he sang the words, letting the lyrics and the music free him from the memories and the fears. The song might have been written especially for him, they depicted his feelings for Callie so well. She did something to him that he couldn’t explain, and it was while in her arms that he felt no pain.
At the end of the song, Casey threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug, laughing. The crowd went wild, clapping and stamping, demanding more. With a wink, Casey strolled past him, saying, “You’re on your own now, cowboy.”
On his own? Not anymore, Judd told himself. Not if Callie had meant what she’d said.
He picked up a guitar and dragged a stool to the center of the stage. Pulling the guitar across his lap, he strummed a few chords, his head tipped to the frets.
At the sound of the melody, shivers crawled up Callie’s spine. It was the song she’d heard him play at the Blue Bell and again at his house, and though she recognized the melody, she’d never heard the lyrics.
One of the stage crew ran on stage to set a microphone in front of him and adjusted the height, then disappeared from sight. Judd hummed a few bars, then opened his mouth and let the words flow from his heart.
Tears burned Callie’s throat and behind her eyes. She sat with her fingers pressed against her lips and listened as Judd musically told the story of what he’d been through, sharing the emotions in such a way, she felt his anger, his disillusionment and his shame as if it were her own. By the time he sang the last chorus, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
“This prison it holds me, built
^one lonely brick at a time
No more sunshine, no more laughter
Just the walls of my prison
And the ashes once my dreams...”
After the last chord faded, Judd hooked his bootheel over the stool’s rung and propped the guitar on one knee. He lifted his head and looked out over the audience. No one applauded. No one cheered. They all looked at him, watching expectantly, as if they somehow knew there was more of the story to come.
“All of you know about the accusations and the charges filed against me,” he said, his voice amplified by the microphone, but low and uncertain. “And even though the judge issued a verdict of not guilty, there are those who still believe I’m guilty.” A cry of denial rose from the audience. Judd held out a hand to quiet them and sadly shook his head. “I’ve heard all the stories. Some say I bought my freedom by paying off the judge and jury. Others think I had a nervous breakdown after the trial and ended up in some insane asylum weaving baskets. The truth is...I came home.
“The song I just sang, I wrote after the trial. It was a hellish time in my life, something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. The one thing that kept me going during all of it was knowing that when it was over, when my innocence was proven, I could come home.
“Unfortunately, just having a judge proclaim me innocent didn’t seem enough. The media continued to hound me, building suppositions on half facts, sniffing around for a story that just wasn’t there. So, even though I’d come home, I realized that I hadn’t truly escaped it all. I’d built my own prison, one lonely brick at a time, by avoiding talking about what happened. A friend of mine—” He stopped, frowned, then shook his head, chuckling. “Hell, she’s more than a friend.” He stood and set the guitar aside.
Callie’s heart crawled up her throat as she watched him walk to
the edge of the stage and stop in front of her. He held out his hand, palm up. She looked at Molly, not sure what Judd was asking of her. Molly just smiled and gave her a gentle shove. “Go on,” she whispered.
Slowly, Callie rose and crossed to him, her knees knocking uncontrollably. With her gaze fixed on his, she laid her hand in his. He guided her up the two steps that separated them until she stood at his side.
He kept her hand in his as he looked out at the audience. “A year ago, the chances of Callie and I ever meeting were probably a million to one, what with her living in Dallas and me traveling all over the country, singing. If I hadn’t been accused of a crime, I’d probably still be out there singing and partying and carrying on. I wouldn’t have moved home to Guthrie and been here when Callie’s great-grandfather sent her here to trace some of his family. You can call it fate, you can call it the work of God’s mysterious hand, but whatever the reason, going through what I did was worth all the pain and suffering,” he said, turning to look down at her. “For the opportunity to meet this special lady.”
Tears burning her eyes, Callie stepped into the curve of his arm and laid a hand against his chest. The pounding of his heart beneath her palm matched the thunderous beating of her own.
He squeezed her against him, his gaze on her. “Callie convinced me that the only way to break out of this prison I created around myself is to go public, to set the story straight. She said we could face this together and I’m taking her at her word.”
He shifted nervously, not wanting to broach the subject he’d avoided for over a year. He lifted his head, his chin held high as he stared out over the audience. “I’m not guilty of the crime I was charged with,” he said. “And I didn’t pay off anybody to reach that verdict.”
The applause started immediately and built to a deafening roar as one by one the audience rose to their feet, showing their belief and trust in him. That they would accept him so readily with nothing but his own word as proof freed Judd as no judge’s verdict ever could. He heaved a long sigh as the burden he’d carried for over a year slipped from his shoulders.
“To put a few rumors to rest,” he said, beginning to relax, “I’m not on leave from some mental institution and I didn’t skip the country. And I’m sure as hell not dead.”
The crowd hooted with laughter at that last one.
“I’m alive and well and living in Guthrie, Oklahoma, and if this lady’ll say yes,” he said, looking down at Callie, “I plan to increase the population of Guthrie by one just as soon as I can find a justice of the peace who’ll marry us.”
A cheer went up as the crowd shouted their approval. Tears blinded Callie as she gazed up at Judd and saw the uncertainty in his eyes. Her heart filled with her love for him, she slipped into his arms and wound her arms around his neck. “I love you, Judd Barker.”
“And I love you.” Closing his eyes, he hugged her to him. “No more prisons, Callie,” he promised in a whisper. “Never again.”
* * * * *
ISBN: 978-1-4592-8659-7
Miss Lizzy’s Legacy
Copyright © 1995 by Peggy Bozeman Morse
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Miss Lizzy's Legacy Page 17
