Lost and Found

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Paul peeked into the room, then hastily backed out and held the door open the barest of cracks so Kitty couldn't see past him. "Pa, there's a man downstairs wanting to talk to ya."

Sawyer and Lillian lay in their bed in a tangled embrace. His chest was completely bare, and the covers rode low around his hips. Lillian's naked and partially exposed back faced the door. Sawyer's arm across her waist held the blanket in place at her ribs. He opened sleepy eyes to look at Paul, peeking through a slim crack in the open door.

He raised his head, pulled the sheets further up to cover Lillian, and smiled when she opened her good eye. "Mornin' darlin'," He whispered, pressing a kiss to Lillian's forehead and adjusting the covers around his waist.

Pushing her braid behind her shoulder, he asked Paul, "A man at the door? Did he say who he was?"

"Yep," Paul beamed, "said he was a Judge or somethin'," he gave Sawyer an expectant look, "says he needs to speak about a paper that was mailed to ya."

Sighing, Sawyer ran a hand through his hair and over his tired eyes and nodded, "Alright, run and tell him we'll be down in a minute."

Paul shut the door, but the handle jiggled as Kitty complained, "I wanted to say good morning to Papa, Paulie."

"Well, you can do that when he comes downstairs." The handle stilled, and Paul and Kitty's footsteps receded, marking their progress to the stairs.

Lillian's eye widened as she groaned, "We're still naked, aren't we?"

He lifted the covers and gazed at her naked body snuggled against his. Sawyer's lips curled into a wolfish grin, "Yep, sure looks like it."

She giggled and pulled his mouth down to hers as he wrapped his arms around her.

A few minutes later, he broke the kiss and sat up, throwing the covers aside. "I forgot a judge is waiting for us downstairs."

He stood and pulled on his underwear and grabbed her chemise from off the floor, gently tossing it to her as he winked, "Better get your clothes on before you get me sidetracked again."

When they came downstairs, they found the judge sitting on the sofa in the parlor. He had thick salt and pepper hair brushed back off his forehead and a black, neatly trimmed handlebar mustache that curled at the ends.

Kitty perched on his knee, barely pausing long enough to breathe as she said, "And Papa saved Mama from the bad man, and Mama made him take a bath."

"She did?"

"Mmhmm, cause he smelled real bad, but I didn't mind."

"Why's that," the judge murmured, biting back a grin.

Kitty shrugged and twirled her finger in the curled end of the judge's mustache. "Because I love my Papa."

"Well," the judge said with a smile, "I'm glad to hear that, Miss Kitty."

"Mornin'," Sawyer greeted, stepping into the parlor.

The judge looked up and smiled, "Mornin', sorry to disturb your rest." He set Kitty down with a gentle pat on her curly head and stood to his impressive full height. He had kind brown eyes and stood a few inches taller than Sawyer. His sturdy build suggested he was more suited for farm work. "Your daughter was just informing me of your family's eventful night." His eyes filled with sympathy when Lillian limped into the room. "I see she did a fair job recounting the details."

Sawyer smiled and scoffed. "I'm sure she did." He held his hand out, "Sawyer Weston, and this is my wife, Lillian. You've already met our daughter Kitty, and over there," he pointed to the kitchen entry, "is our son, Paul."