Sandra Steffen - The Wolf's Surrender

Albert was nowhere to be found, either. It looked as if she was going to get the chance at that marathon after all, or at least the equivalent of one. The mile-long walk to her little house on icy sidewalks would take care and concentration. Experience had taught her it would be fortuitous to visit the ladies’ room first.

The baby moved, a glorious feeling if there ever was one. Until the past few weeks, she’d sailed through the entire pregnancy without so much as an ache or pain, or even a hint of morning sickness. Her doctor assured her that a low backache and occasional leg strain was normal for a woman scheduled to deliver in three weeks. Placing one hand on her belly and the other on the ache in the small of her back, she smiled all over again and rounded the corner.

“Oh!” She screeched to a halt mere inches from Grey Colton, the youngest judge in Comanche County.

“Easy.” His hands shot out to steady her.

Her smile gone, she slid the strap of her bag back to her shoulder, and took a backward step. “I thought I was the only person left in the building.”

“You’re close. I think there are three of us. You, me and Albert’s here somewhere.”

As always, Judge Colton’s implacable expression was unnerving.

“Do you know where Albert is?” She swallowed. “Your Honor?”

“My guess is, he’s down in the boiler room. Why?”

Something, like displeasure, glittered in his dark brown eyes, causing her to answer quickly. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

His expression stilled and grew even more serious. Kelly held in a sigh. At thirty-three, Grey Colton’s face bore just enough evidence of the Native American lineage of his great-grandfather to set the hearts of the women in his county aflutter. Half the time, his expression of pained tolerance made Kelly seethe. Since she’d recently taken a position with a law firm here in Black Arrow, and therefore couldn’t afford to get on his bad side, she nodded politely. “I just have to, er, that is…” She sidestepped him. “Excuse me, Your Honor.” Giving him a wide berth, she ducked inside the rest room.

Grey Colton released a deep breath through his nose. It was a reflex action his sister insisted had a lot in common with a buffalo’s snort.

He took a dozen steps toward the elevator, stopped, and slowly turned. He strode to the window next, and peered out. Sleet pinged against the glass. Seven vehicles were stopped in a zigzag pattern, blocking traffic on the street out front, as well as at the exit from the parking lot below. Since it didn’t look as if he was going anywhere anytime soon anyway, he decided it wouldn’t hurt him to walk Kelly Madison out to her car.

Not that she would appreciate it.

She didn’t like him.

And that was fine with him. He’d heard she was coming back to Black Arrow. All right, he hadn’t been any too happy about it. Something about her got on his nerves. He’d met her in the corridor a few times these past few weeks. Three times to be exact. She’d been courteous—he couldn’t fault her for her manners—but nothing more. The truth was, his gaze had a way of settling on her without his permission, and it rankled the hell out of him. Actually, he was thankful that Kelly Madison maintained a cool, diplomatic reserve with him, even though he was well aware that she showered everyone else with her sunny, outgoing, upbeat personality.

She wasn’t his type. Thank God. Oh, he didn’t have any aversion to her wavy auburn hair and clear green eyes, although there should have been a law against any woman having lips that soft-looking or full. He’d heard she was newly divorced. She was obviously very pregnant. If that didn’t make her completely unsuitable, she seemed to genuinely believe each and every client she’d ever defended was innocent. Grey didn’t like naive women, and he couldn’t afford to so much as look at one with any skeletons in her closet. Even in this day and age, an unmarried, pregnant woman would be the kiss of death for a man who aspired to gain a position on the Oklahoma State Supreme Court one day.

He didn’t know why she didn’t like him, but the fact remained that she didn’t. That didn’t mean he could leave her to her own defenses in the middle of an ice storm.

He tugged at the collar of his white shirt, wishing he could loosen the tie and open the top button. He checked his watch, and waited. The wind had picked up outside. Inside, the courthouse was silent, eerily so.

He checked his watch again.

He paced to the far end of the hallway. Jiggling the loose change in his pocket, he paced back to the rest-room door. It had been fifteen minutes. What could she possibly be doing in there?

He had a mother and a younger sister, and while he didn’t pretend to understand what women did with all their little tubes and vials and lotions, he knew it could take a hell of a long time. He strode to the far wall again. He checked his watch again. He listened again.

He couldn’t hear a thing.

He was getting a bad feeling about this. Pacing to the rest room, he raised his fist and knocked decisively.

Silence.

He knocked again, louder.

More silence.

“Kelly?”

Still, nothing.

“Kelly!” His voice thundered through the courthouse.

At least she answered this time. Her “yes” was more like the plaintive sound of an injured kitten, raising the hair on the back of his neck.

“You okay?”

“I…don’t think so.”

He opened the door far enough to stick his head inside. She was lying on the floor, her face ashen. He threw open the door and rushed inside. “What’s wrong?”

She lifted her head weakly. “The baby. I think it’s coming.”

“You think it’s coming! Now? Here?” His voice boomed, echoing, causing even him to cringe.

She rolled to her side, as if to try to get up.

“Don’t move.”

Resting on one elbow, she breathed deeply. “I had a little backache. Just a tiny one, mind you. And then, the next thing I knew, I doubled over. My water broke. The pains haven’t stopped for more than twenty or thirty seconds and they last well over a minute and a half. According to my prenatal classes, that means I’m in the final stages of labor.” Her voice started to shake. “First babies are supposed to take hours and hours. Days. They’re supposed to take days.”

She wet her dry lips, those full, ought-to-be-a-law-against-them pink lips. Grey’s mouth thinned in irritation. “Okay, you doubled over. You’re in the throes of labor. Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

She’d closed her eyes, and was breathing strangely. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face.

Finally, she said, “I…didn’t know…you were…still here.” She took several more deep breaths before relaxing. Her eyes opened, and her gaze unerringly met his. “Why are you still here?”

“Good question.” But he thought it was a good thing he was. A good thing for her. That bad feeling was getting worse.

Grey’s great-grandfather, George WhiteBear, claimed every Comanche man, woman and child had his or her own guardian spirit. The old man had made several journeys in search of his of late. Grey had never felt the need to do the same. George WhiteBear’s guide was a coyote. There were no coyotes in the Comanche County Courthouse. Some would say that was a good thing. Grey could have used help in any way, shape or form.

He saw Kelly’s phone lying next to her on the floor. Lowering to his haunches, he reached for it. “Why didn’t you call 911?”

“I tried, all right? Why are you so grouchy?”

He wasn’t grouchy. He was focused.

Maybe he was a little grouchy.

He punched in the three digits. At the first sound of the busy signal, he punched the off button. “The emergency phone system must be down.”