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The Wolf's Surrender
Sandra Steffen
When a powerful storm blew through town, attorney Kelly Madison found herself stranded at the courthouse–and going into labor in Judge Grey Colton's chambers! The handsome, no-nonsense bachelor revealed a surprisingly tender side as he delivered her darling baby girl.But when he discovered her secret past, would the career-minded Colton ignore her passionate pleas for his heart…?His great-grandfather George WhiteBear called him the Lone Wolf–but one pretty redhead and her adorable daughter threatened to end Grey's solitary days for good.They'd already won his affection, but was he willing to risk his future for love…?


THE COLTONS: COMANCHE BLOOD
Discover a proud, passionate clan of men and women who will risk everything for love, family and honor.
Grey Colton:
The successful judge aspires to join the State Supreme Court—not be saddled with a sassy single mom and her adorable baby that he delivered. But the Lone Wolf can’t deny the laws of nature forever—or his surprising paternal instincts!
Kelly Madison:
The sweet, spunky attorney always found the Honorable Grey Colton intimidating, but when he reveals a tender side, she discovers he’s truly irresistible!
Gloria WhiteBear:
Her shocking secret has been revealed—and has put her grandchildren in unforeseen danger. But will these Coltons finally find the peace and happiness they deserve…?
Dear Reader,
Ring in the holidays with Silhouette Romance! Did you know our books make terrific stocking stuffers? What a wonderful way to remind your friends and family of the power of love!
This month, everyone is in store for some extraspecial goodies. Diana Palmer treats us to her LONG, TALL TEXANS title, Lionhearted (#1631), in which the last Hart bachelor ties the knot in time for the holidays. And Sandra Steffen wraps up THE COLTONS series about the secret Comanche branch, with The Wolf’s Surrender (#1630). Don’t miss the grand family reunion to find out how your favorite Coltons are doing!
Then, discover if an orphan’s wish for a family—and snow on Christmas—comes true in Cara Colter’s heartfelt Guess Who’s Coming for Christmas? (#1632). Meanwhile, wedding bells are the last thing on school nurse Kate Ryerson’s mind—or so she thinks—in Myrna Mackenzie’s lively romp, The Billionaire Borrows a Bride (#1634).
And don’t miss the latest from popular Romance authors Valerie Parv and Donna Clayton. Valerie Parv brings us her mesmerizing tale, The Marquis and the Mother-To-Be (#1633), part of THE CARRAMER LEGACY in which Prince Henry’s heirs discover the perils of love! And Donna Clayton is full of shocking surprises with The Doctor’s Pregnant Proposal (#1635), the second in THE THUNDER CLAN series about a family of proud, passionate people.
We promise more exciting new titles in the coming year. Make it your New Year’s resolution to read them all!
Happy reading!


Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor

The Wolf’s Surrender
Sandra Steffen


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my fellow writers in this series: Teresa Southwick, Kasey Michaels, Victoria Pade, Jackie Merritt and Stella Bagwell. It doesn’t amaze me that we learn from each other. What amazes me is how much fun we have!
Books by Sandra Steffen
Silhouette Romance
Child of Her Dreams #1005
* (#litres_trial_promo)Bachelor Daddy #1028
* (#litres_trial_promo)Bachelor at the Wedding #1045
* (#litres_trial_promo)Expectant Bachelor #1056
Lullaby and Goodnight #1074
A Father for Always #1138
For Better, For Baby #1163
† (#litres_trial_promo)Luke’s Would-Be Bride #1230
† (#litres_trial_promo)Wyatt’s Most Wanted Wife #1241
† (#litres_trial_promo)Clayton’s Made-Over Mrs. #1253
† (#litres_trial_promo)Nick’s Long-Awaited Honeymoon #1290
The Bounty Hunter’s Bride #1306
† (#litres_trial_promo)Burke’s Christmas Surprise #1337
† (#litres_trial_promo)Wes Stryker’s Wrangled Wife #1362
† (#litres_trial_promo)McKenna’s Bartered Bride #1398
† (#litres_trial_promo)Sky’s Pride and Joy #1486
† (#litres_trial_promo)Quinn’s Complete Seduction #1517
The Wolf’s Surrender #1630
Silhouette Desire
Gift Wrapped Dad #972
Silhouette Special Edition
Not Before Marriage! #1061
Silhouette Books
36 Hours
Marriage by Contract
Fortunes of Texas
Lone Star Wedding
The Coltons
The Trophy Wife
Delivered by Christmas
“A Christmas Treasure”
SANDRA STEFFEN
Growing up the fourth child of ten, Sandra developed a keen appreciation for laughter and argument. Sandra lives in Michigan with her husband, three of their four sons and a blue-eyed mutt who thinks her name is No-Molly-No. Sandra’s book Child of Her Dreams won the 1994 National Readers’ Choice Award. Several of her titles have appeared on national bestseller lists.



Contents
Chapter One (#ufa320212-4fe1-52ce-8400-4e0bf9412dd9)
Chapter Two (#u04e5e447-dc87-5807-96c7-59daf4810d3a)
Chapter Three (#u3c7a6841-3be6-521a-9162-2100e5ded2c9)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One
Kelly Madison stood outside her locked car in the parking lot next to the county courthouse, rummaging through her bag for her keys. She found a receipt she’d been looking for and notes and briefs for a case she was working on, but not her car keys.
It was nearing the end of March in Black Arrow, Oklahoma. One never knew what it might bring. Today it had brought rain that had turned to ice, making the streets and sidewalks of this friendly city treacherous, especially for a woman eight months pregnant.
A horn honked on the street out front. An instant later, Kelly heard the high-pitched whir of tires spinning on ice. Metal crunched and more horns honked. Oh, dear, she thought, a fender bender. Transplants to Oklahoma, like Kelly, often joked amongst themselves that folks out here just plain didn’t know how to drive in wintry conditions. Officials had been known to close schools and businesses if snow flurries were so much as forecast. Back in the suburbs of Chicago where she grew up, people didn’t let a foot of snow and sub-zero temperatures render them homebound. They just threw on a sweater.
She liked it here, though. She liked the wide-open spaces and the incessant hum of the wind, and the people. She liked the people here most of all. Placing a hand on her round belly, she smiled. She’d been doing that all day. “Three more weeks, sweetheart, and you’ll see what an amazing and interesting place the world is.”
Taking her phone from her bag, Kelly pressed 911 to report the accident, which by now included four more cars. The line was busy. Evidently, everyone in town was calling to report some sort of mishap this afternoon.
Now, where were her keys?
She pulled the hood of her brown trench coat closer to her face. Huddling inside her coat, she blinked through a fine, icy mist, and continued rummaging through her bag. Almost of its own volition, her gaze strayed through the driver’s-side window.
Her keys dangled from the ignition. She tried the door, even though she knew it would be futile. It was still locked, just as it had been all day.
Even that didn’t dampen her sunny mood. She didn’t know why, but she felt like skipping and singing and laughing, all at the same time. She felt invincible, as if she could run a marathon and paint her kitchen, too.
With the mystery of her missing keys solved, she wrapped her happy mood around her, hooked the strap of her bag over her shoulder and carefully made her way back inside the courthouse to search for Albert Redhawk, a dear of a custodian who’d used a coat hanger to unlock her door on more than one occasion before she’d left town nearly seven months ago. The heavy door closed behind her, the sound echoing through the entire first floor of the courthouse. The hundred-year-old lights were on, but the place had a distinctive empty feel. Apparently, the painters and electricians, who were in the final stages of repairing the portion of the structure damaged in a fire during her absence, had all gone home at the first sign of bad weather. The treasurer’s office door was closed and locked, as was every other door she tried.
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.”
“Or overloaded.”
“Damn.”
“I hear you. And I understand your frustration. But my baby can hear you, too, so would you mind not swearing?”
She pushed herself to a sitting position. He could tell it hurt. Her coat was open. For the first time, he noticed she was wearing a long, moss-green knit dress and sensible leather boots. She placed both hands on her stomach, which seemed to be rock-hard. Her green eyes narrowed, and her face grew even more pale.
Grey didn’t know what the hell to do.
He jumped to his feet and paced the small room. Kelly moaned quietly. She was in labor. The pains were close and severe. He started to swear, only to clamp his mouth shut before he’d completed the word. He was judge of Comanche County. He didn’t swear. He had when he was younger, but not anymore.
Damn it to hell, what was he going to do?
He stared at his reflection in the mirror. The black-brown eyes staring back at him seemed to narrow and dilate. Strangely, a sense of calm settled over him. It started behind his eyes, moving down to his throat, easing the tense muscles in his shoulders, uncurling the knot in his stomach.
“Can you get up?” he asked. Even his voice sounded calmer.
She swallowed tightly and nodded. The moment she tried to rise, she slumped down again. This time, her groan was agonizing.
He turned on the water and punched the hand soap button. When his hands were clean and relatively dry, he lowered to his haunches again. “I’m going to pick you up. Tell me if I hurt you.”
“If you help me to my feet…” Her voice trailed away on a sound that was barely human. “Maybe I can walk.”
It wasn’t easy to help her to her feet. He didn’t know where to put his hands. It seemed he couldn’t put them anywhere without brushing the outer edge of her breast or the hard girth of her stomach. He ended up putting an arm around her back. She grasped his other hand. Her grip was strong. She was strong. She proved it by making it to her feet. Once there, she leaned against the counter behind her. “Well. So far so good.” Swaying, she took a step. It cost her.
Without conscious thought, Grey swung her into his arms. He staggered backward a step. She was slender, but she was about five feet six. And pregnant.
A glance at her face showed a small smile. While she steadied herself by wrapping an arm around his neck, probably in an effort to hold on for dear life, he redistributed her weight more evenly in his arms.
“Are you sure you can do this?” she asked quietly.
The sound he made had a lot in common with a snort again. “Just open the door.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
She pulled on the door. Using his foot, he pushed it to the wall, then shouldered his way through.
“Where are we going?”
Until he saw the elevator door that was standing open, he hadn’t known. Entering the small compartment, he said, “There’s a sofa in my chambers.”
He figured she would have argued, if another pain hadn’t ripped through her. She squeezed her eyes shut, and he swore every muscle in her entire body tensed.
They reached his chambers before her pain subsided.
This was bad. He had no knowledge of medicine. He hadn’t so much as had a cold in twenty years. And while he’d helped his cousin, Bram, deliver one of Bram’s prize quarter-horse colts a few years ago, Grey had no idea how to deliver a human baby.
With painstaking care, he lowered Kelly to the leather sofa. Instantly, he grabbed the phone on his desk and tried 911 again. The results were the same. He dialed his mother’s number next. He got her machine. He was in the middle of dialing his sister’s number when the phone went dead.
Reluctantly, he hung it up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“The ice must have taken down the phone lines.”
“My cell phone isn’t working, either. I’m going to have my baby here, aren’t I?” There was hysteria in her voice.
“I think so.”
She gasped, and he said, “I can think of worse places.” He could think of better ones, too. Hospitals. Clinics. The moon.
Kelly took a series of deep breaths. “The labor instructor lied. Breathing doesn’t help.”
“It’s got to be better than the alternative.”
Her pain subsided long enough to appreciate his stab at wry humor. She eased back on the supple leather sofa, taking stock of her situation. The baby was coming. She could feel it pressing lower and lower. It hurt so bad. She couldn’t call the hospital or her doctor. But she was warm and dry. And she wasn’t alone.
She placed a hand on her swollen abdomen.
“Lie back and rest.”
She could hear Grey fluffing a pillow. A moment later, he tucked it under her head.
“Talk to me,” she whispered, her eyes closed. When he made no sound, she realized he probably didn’t know what to say. She whispered, “Who decorated your chambers?”
“My sister, my mother and my grandmother. Does it show?”
She smiled, again the epitome of diplomacy. “My grandmother made this pillow for me before she died,” he said. “She made one for my sister, my brothers, and all our cousins.”
Kelly felt him taking the pins from her hair. She focused on the heat in his fingertips. She lost her concentration during the next pain, but he was still there those interminable minutes later, when the contraction subsided.
“What do you say we get you out of your boots?”
She reached for her ankle, but he took over, sliding the right boot off easily. She didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or scared out of her wits. Placing a hand on her belly, she thought about the baby and said, “I can do this.” She said it six times in all.
The next thing she knew, her other boot was off, too. While he placed it against the wall with the first one, Kelly said, “Women used to have babies at home all the time. We’ve all heard stories of women who gave birth, then went back to work in the rice paddy.”
“It’s not quite as bad as that,” he answered.
“Exactly.”
She brought her legs up, and groaned.
Grey raked his fingers through his hair. “You’re going to have to remove some clothes, Kelly.”
Her eyes were round all of a sudden. She swallowed her panic admirably. “Would you mind turning around?”
He stared at her for a moment before giving her the privacy she’d requested. “Giving birth is no time for modesty.”
“I know, but the only people who are supposed to see a woman like this are her doctors and her lover.”
Grey had no business thinking what he was thinking at a time like this. It was the way she’d said lover.
The quiet rustle of fabric on leather was punctuated by an occasional catch in her breathing. “What was your grandmother’s name?”
Grey didn’t comprehend the question. “What grandmother?”
“The one who made you and all her grandchildren a pillow like this one?”
He turned around again, and saw that Kelly was covered up with her coat. She was still wearing her green dress, but her undergarments were folded neatly on the floor near the couch.
“Her name was Gloria WhiteBear Colton. Her husband, my grandfather, died before she gave birth to twin sons, my father, Tom, and my Uncle Trevor, who died a long time ago. My grandmother raised my five cousins, but she had a hand in raising my brothers, sister and I, too.”
Kelly gripped his hand as another pain gripped her. Grey tried to decide what he should be doing. In the movies, somebody always boiled water at times like these. That was the extent of Grey’s medical training. He wet some paper towels at the small sink in his lavatory, then smoothed them across her face. “Did your prenatal classes prepare you for what’s going to happen?” he asked.
“More or less.” Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even. “You should have heard me proclaiming how I was going to have my child naturally. What I wouldn’t do for an epidural or some other painkilling drugs right now.”
“You have your sense of humor. That’s good.”
Another pain took her. When it was over, she said, “Keep talking. Even when I don’t seem to be listening.”
“I’m not much of a talker.”
“Oh.”
“It’s one of the downfalls of growing up in a large family. It isn’t easy to get a word in edgewise.”
“I have one older sister. It was never easy to get a word in edgewise in our house, either.” There were a few seconds of silence. And then she asked, “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
He ended up naming and describing all four of his brothers, his sister, as well as his five cousins. He wasn’t sure she heard half of what he said, but it didn’t matter. He sat on a straight-backed chair pulled close to the leather sofa. His chambers were in the interior portion of the old courthouse, which meant there were no windows. The only light came from hundred-year-old fixtures on the paneled walls and a lamp he’d turned on on his big, mahogany desk.
He reminisced about simpler times, and what it was like growing up in a loud, boisterous family. She was breathing quietly when he started to tell the story of the time he, Billy, Jesse, Sky and their cousin Willow had been visiting the family ranch.
“We climbed up a rickety ladder nailed to the wall in the barn. At the top was a window with no glass where barn swallows and doves roosted. From there it was an easy climb out onto the roof of a lean-to that housed straw and machinery and little animals that scuttled, heard but rarely seen. We all knew that roof was forbidden territory. That was half the allure. The other half was the view. We sat up there in a row, smugly enjoying our adventure. Our grandmother’s voice carried around to the back of the barn, calling us in for lunch. Being the oldest, I went last, the others climbing down ahead of me. We could smell the homemade soup and fresh-baked bread before we reached the house.”
“What kind of soup?” Kelly asked.
So she was listening. “Vegetable beef. My mother was stirring it on the stove when we got there. My grandmother, who had been raising my cousins ever since their parents died a few years earlier, looked at each of us in turn. Tossing her gray braid over her shoulder, she said, ‘Willow, would you like your spanking now or later?’
“All five of us froze like antelope trapped in the glare of headlights. How could she have known? My ever-wise grandmother nudged my mother and said, ‘Are you going to line yours up for spankings, too, Alice?”’
“Not exactly good appetizer talk, huh?” Kelly whispered.
Grey shook his head at the memory. “My mother said that she would prefer to wait until our father got home.” He leaned ahead in his chair, quietly adding, “And you’re right. None of us ate much at lunch that day.”
“Did your father spank you when he got home?”
“I don’t think my mother ever told him. I doubt she’d planned to. That six-hour wait was our punishment.”
Kelly grew silent, panting through another pain. It lasted almost two minutes. Deep lines cut into the corners of her mouth; her face was wet with perspiration long before the contraction was over. Exhausted, she slumped back. Without opening her eyes, she said, “Do you believe in spanking children?”
“Most of the time, no.”
“But?” she whispered.
“If they climb out onto a rotting roof forty feet off the ground, when one wrong move could get them killed, or worse, then, yeah, I believe in spankings. Not beatings, or whippings, but a swat on the seat of their pants, or the threat of one, was very effective.”
Kelly thought about that. Grey’s mother sounded like a wise woman. The “wait for your father to get home” ploy had worked, probably because she hadn’t overused it. Kelly’s baby wasn’t going to have a father. It was all up to her. She didn’t want to think about that right now.
“Tell me more. About that big family of yours.”
Grey Colton, a man who’d professed that he wasn’t much of a talker, told her about the years his family had moved around while his father had been in the army. He talked about his great-grandfather George WhiteBear and his spirit quests. Sometimes she whimpered. Sometimes she squeezed his hand so hard he feared for the internal integrity of several of his bones. She never screamed or yelled, and by God, he wasn’t about to.
Before long, there was no time between pains. Her body strained as if being guided by inner wisdom fueled by some ancient knowledge.
Grey went on automatic pilot. Since he had no blankets or sheets or towels, he removed his white dress shirt and the cotton T-shirt underneath, for later use. The sounds Kelly made now were guttural, her breathing labored as he reassured her and told her she was doing great. A nearly bald head crowned. Soon, a shoulder emerged. He didn’t know where Kelly found the strength to keep pushing. She was so tired, and God, the pain…
But she pushed again, and an unbelievably tiny child was born into Grey’s hands. “I’ve got her.”
“Her?”
“It’s a girl.” His throat closed up tight.
The child was warm and moving. Using his T-shirt, he cleaned the baby off as best he could. It caused her to start to cry.
“What’s wrong?” Kelly whispered.
“Nothing that I can see. I don’t think she likes to have her face washed.”
That tiny, mewling cry grew stronger as he wrapped her in his starched white shirt. Carefully, he placed the tiny bundle in Kelly’s shaking arms. The baby stopped crying.
And Kelly started.
She hadn’t shed a tear through the entire ordeal. Now she cried, big, fat tears rolling down her face. “She’s beautiful.”
The baby was bald, wrinkled and red. She needed a bath. “Not just beautiful,” Grey whispered. “She’s perfect.”
Kelly sniffled. “I need to call my mother.”
Grey handed her the cell phone. She pushed speed dial, and, lo and behold, the phone worked. She told her mother all about the birth. Of course her mother freaked and insisted Kelly hang up and call 911 immediately.
And miraculously, this time that worked, too.
Grey took the phone from her. “This is Judge Grey Colton. I’m in my chambers on the second floor of the courthouse, with Kelly Madison. She’s just had her baby. We need an ambulance and some paramedics up here, now. I’ll stay on the line. Try to disconnect me and I’ll see you in court.”
Feeling her eyes on him, he glanced at her.
“Even without your shirt, you’re formidable.”
She wavered him a woman-soft smile that went straight to his head. He barely managed to hold the phone to his ear.
“Was it worth it?” she whispered.
At first he thought she was referring to delivering her daughter. But then she said, “Was climbing onto that barn roof worth it?”
A lump came and went in his throat. “I can still remember the view.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She pressed her lips to her daughter’s cheek. “Why is it that the most worthwhile things in life always come with the greatest risk?”
Their gazes locked, and something nearly tangible passed between them. She leaned back and closed her eyes, drawing the baby closer.
He wished he had a blanket to cover her and the infant. Those paramedics had better hurry up and get here. “Yes.” He spoke into the phone. “I’m still here. Yes.” He answered a few questions, gave a few details, which he followed up with one succinct order to hurry.
“Help is on the way,” he said.
He looked at Kelly. She and the baby were both asleep.

Chapter Two
“Judge?”
Grey looked at the paramedic standing at the front of Kelly’s gurney. The man looked back at him expectantly, prompting Grey to reply curtly. “What is it?”
“You need to move to one side so we can get the patients loaded into the ambulance.”
Grey got out of the way.
The icy drizzle had stopped and the clouds were breaking up. Although the temperature had risen into the forties, there was still a damp chill on the late-afternoon air. It hadn’t taken the paramedics long to arrive. Obviously well trained, they’d handled the rest of the delivery and cut the cord. They’d taken Kelly’s and the baby’s vitals. After giving each a cursory examination, mother and child were deemed stable and healthy and ready to transport. They were wrapped in warm blankets then lifted onto the gurney. Next, they were wheeled out to the ambulance waiting just outside the back door.
The little entourage didn’t draw much attention. Traffic was practically nonexistent on the street out front, and other than Kelly’s car parked in the middle of the parking lot, and Grey’s sport-utility vehicle sitting in his reserved space near the building, the lot was deserted.
“I should go with you.” It wasn’t the first time Grey had made the suggestion.
She smiled tiredly. “You’ve already done more than I will ever be able to repay.”
Repay?
“Excuse us, Judge.”
Grey stepped aside, again.
What did Kelly mean, repay? She’d done all the work, suffered all the pain, and with barely more than a whimper, too. He’d helped deliver her baby, but had been useless ever since the paramedics had arrived. He’d been all that was between Kelly and total aloneness. Now he was in the way.
That didn’t keep him from sticking close to the emergency vehicle while the paramedics got her and the baby secured, warm and comfortable inside. Any second now, they would close the doors. And then what? And then, nothing. His responsibility was over. End of story.
The first door clicked shut.
Grey slid his hands into his pockets for lack of a better place to put them. His feet were rooted to the pavement.
“Wait!” Kelly exclaimed.
This was more like it. Giving the paramedic a brief nod and an uncustomary smile, Grey eased closer to the open door. “Yes?”
Weak and beautiful in the gray light of the dreary afternoon, Kelly nuzzled her daughter’s tiny head, then said, “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”
Grey felt a strange, swooping pull at his insides. He couldn’t seem to speak, so he simply nodded.
“We’ll take it from here, Judge.”
He stepped aside for the last time. The paramedic closed the other door. The ambulance pulled away, leaving Grey standing alone in the parking lot in a puddle of melting ice, shivering, bare-chested inside his overcoat.
The wind blew through his hair, seeping through his clothing, reminding him that he couldn’t stand here forever. Coming to his senses, he strode past Kelly’s locked car, to his shiny, all-wheel-drive vehicle. His job was done. This episode was over.
It was time for him to go.
He wasn’t sure where he was going even after he’d gotten in and started the engine. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush, but he couldn’t bring himself to simply go home. He considered paying his cousin, Sheriff Bram Colton, a visit at the sheriff station. The two men were friends as well as cousins, Bram on one end of law enforcement, Grey on the other.
The golden-brown brick station came into view. For some reason, Grey drove right on by. He was always welcome at his parents’ house. Lately, Tom and Alice Colton had been feuding. A visit with them inevitably ended up with Grey’s father saying, “Grey, tell your mother that…”
And Grey’s mother saying, “Grey, your father can speak to me himself, and until he does, you can tell him what he can do with his suggestion…”
No. Grey was in no mood to deal with his parents today. What then?
He drove past a pool hall called the Coyote. Instantly, an image of gray hair and wise eyes peering out of a lined, beloved face came to mind. Doing a U-turn, he headed southeast toward his great-grandfather’s ranch near Waurika Lake.
Visiting George WhiteBear involved pursuit. It always had. And it was precisely what Grey needed to take his mind off Kelly Madison and the scrap of a baby girl born right into his own two hands.
He walked beside his great-grandfather on land that had belonged in the WhiteBear family since the early 1900s when the United States government developed a conscience and gave each Comanche family a portion of land to farm. In this day and age, a hundred and sixty acres was barely enough to scratch out a living on. George WhiteBear had never needed much. He raised some chickens, a couple of beef cattle and a few old horses that he rarely rode anymore. His three mongrel dogs were loyal, protective and showing their age. They had as much trouble keeping up with George as Grey did.
The black leather shoes he’d worn all day in court weren’t exactly made for trekking through underbrush and wet weeds. Consequently, his feet were soaked, a two-hundred-dollar pair of shoes probably ruined. The outing had been worth a lot more than a pair of shoes. He and his great-grandfather were on their way back from a scrubby knoll where George had last seen the coyote he believed was his guardian spirit.
Grey had some of George’s Comanche blood, and while he was intrigued by the ancient Native American ways and beliefs, he’d never experienced a visit from a guardian spirit himself. That didn’t mean he didn’t believe George had. There had been too many instances of late in which his great-grandfather had spouted wise words after encountering a dark-gray coyote with silver tips on his coat. Each time, the prophecy had come to pass. Secretly, Grey was relieved none of it had been focused on him.
The house, more ramshackle than run-down, was in plain sight when George stopped suddenly. He peered straight ahead, shading his eyes with a gnarled hand. Knowing better than to speak, Grey stood, quiet and motionless, waiting.
Finally, George lowered his hand. Pointing, he said, “The coyote waits. There.”
Grey saw some brush move, but nothing more.
George stared straight ahead, as if straining to hear something of grave importance. Finally, he spoke. “The gray wolf hides from the truth.”
George looked at Grey for so long that the hair on the back of Grey’s neck prickled slightly. He scanned the weeds and underbrush surrounding his grandfather’s house. Other than smoke curling from the chimney, nothing moved. He certainly didn’t see a wolf hiding. And he didn’t know what George was talking about. He couldn’t have been talking about him, because Grey Colton had made it his life’s work to flesh out the truth.
George said, “A wrong turn will lead the wolf to the right path.”
Now Grey knew his great-grandfather wasn’t referring to him. Grey didn’t make wrong turns.
“Come,” George said. “I cooked a fresh kettle of soup.”
The two men completed the remainder of the walk to the house in silence. Once inside the old kitchen, Grey removed his wet shoes and socks and his overcoat. Rather than ask why Grey wasn’t wearing a shirt, the old man went into his bedroom and brought out one of his own. Grey shrugged into it, then helped himself to a bowl of steaming vegetable soup.
To Grey, George WhiteBear had always been at once ancient and young. With his white braids and dark, lined face, he looked very much like his Comanche ancestors. He’d buried three wives, but the sadness at his most recent loss, his daughter, Grey’s grandmother, Gloria WhiteBear Colton, was still fresh in his currant-black eyes. Neither spoke of it. They both understood that acknowledging it wouldn’t lessen the pain or dull the loss. Only time would do that.
Beyond the windows, the sky darkened. Grey ate two bowls of piping-hot soup. Satisfied that George was well, Grey made noises about going.
“Unless the lone wolf has a hot date, stay.”
Hot date? Grey laughed for the first time in hours.
George turned on his antiquated black-and-white television and tuned in the news. Grey’s laughter evaporated the instant he glimpsed the woman on television smiling disarmingly from her hospital bed. Kelly Madison looked radiant as she told the reporter about becoming stranded in the courthouse, in the throes of labor, and how her daughter was born three weeks ahead of schedule.
The bloodhound reporter said, “I understand Judge Grey Colton helped you deliver the baby.”
Grey sat up a little straighter.
Kelly smiled serenely and nodded. The reporter’s smile was much less serene as she said, “Would you care to tell us what you and the judge were doing alone in the building?”
Grey held perfectly still.
Kelly executed a perfect yawn. After apologizing, she smiled again and confessed that she’d locked her keys in her car. “I do that from time to time. I don’t know what Judge Colton was doing there. Working, probably. Thank goodness he was. It all happened very quickly. I was lucky to deliver so fast. At least the pain didn’t last long. Have you ever had a baby?”
“Er, no, that is…”
“In that case, forget what I said about pain,” Kelly exclaimed. “It’s worth the pain, and more! You’ll see. And now, I’m truly blessed to have a healthy baby girl.”
“About Judge Colton,” the reporter said smoothly.
Kelly blinked. “What about him?”
“How was he throughout the birth?”
“I don’t really remember. I was a little busy.”
“Did he hold the baby?”
Kelly nodded tiredly again. “Yes, but not for long. By the time the judge wrapped her in an old shirt, my cell phone was working. The paramedics came, and brought my precious baby and me to the hospital. The doctor said she has a big cry for a baby so small. Did I tell you she weighs six pounds and one-half ounce?”
“Yes, you did. Have you seen Judge Colton since he delivered your daughter?”
“No,” Kelly replied. “Have you?”
“Er, um, no,” she said. “Judge Colton couldn’t be reached for comment.”
In any other situation, Grey would have smiled.
“Do you think things will be strained between you and the judge the next time you and a client stand before him?”
Kelly pondered that, a faraway light in her soft green eyes. “I honestly doubt it. Judge Colton is a very fair and focused man. He’s probably already forgotten all about what happened. My mother will never forget it or forgive me for having the baby without her. She and my father are driving out from Chicago sometime late tomorrow.”
The baby started to cry from Kelly’s arms, a lusty, hearty sound that brought the interview to an end. The reporter left Kelly to her child, ending the segment with a few facts regarding Judge Grey Colton’s career, as well as speculation that he would hold a seat on the Oklahoma State Supreme Court someday.
The instant they went to a commercial, George switched off the television. A heavy silence ensued as he made an obvious perusal of the frayed and faded shirt he’d loaned Grey. He stared at Grey, an indecipherable look in his nearly black eyes.
Grey said, “If you would have asked what happened to my shirt, I would have told you.”
George stood, shoulders stooped with age, hips thrust forward, legs bowed, hands slightly unsteady. “A wrong turn will lead the wolf to the right path.”
The skin on the back of Grey’s neck prickled again. What wrong turn? he thought, donning his overcoat and soggy shoes. He had an inborn sense of direction that prevented him from taking wrong turns. Hadn’t he found his way out of mazes and blizzards? He’d navigated through law school and local politics and small-minded people in large groups. Grey had learned to work within each of those systems. His sense of direction had served him well.
He was a man, not a wolf. And he was calm on the drive back to Black Arrow. Although he hadn’t been able to put Kelly and the baby out of his mind, he’d put them, and the situation, in perspective. In no time at all, mother and child would move to the back of his mind, forgotten except in those rare instances when some sight or sound triggered the distant memory.
Back at his house, he took a hot shower. Shirtless again, he padded barefoot to the kitchen. Portia, his housekeeper, had left the pot roast she’d prepared for his dinner in the refrigerator. Evidently, delivering a baby had stimulated his appetite. He made himself a thick sandwich, carrying it and a cold soda to his desk, where he planned to study some new changes in the law.
He wound up staring into space, marveling at the way Kelly had fielded the reporter’s questions. He wondered how she and the baby were. Realizing it was futile to attempt to study the intricate changes in the state and federal laws tonight, he left his plate of crumbs next to his unfinished can of soda, and went upstairs. In his big bedroom, he donned a lightweight merino wool sweater, socks and shoes, and headed for his SUV.
The hospital corridor was quiet when the elevator door slid open. Following the arrows, Grey made his way to the maternity wing. Nurses glanced at him as he passed, but no one asked if he needed help. He knew the way, which further diminished his grandfather’s statement that a wrong turn would lead to the right path.
Grey Colton simply could not afford to make wrong turns.
The door was open in the room at the end of the hall. All was quiet inside. Kelly was asleep. He paused, uncertain how to proceed. A dim light was on over her bed, casting shadows where her eyelashes rested above her cheeks. Grey couldn’t help staring. His reaction was swift, powerful and instinctive. She was beautiful, and it wasn’t just the color of her hair and lips.
He moored the balloons at the foot of her bed and left the bouquet of pink roses on the window ledge. Tucking the stuffed rabbit in the crook of his arm, he started for the bed, only to stop. He didn’t know what he was doing here, and couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking on eggshells. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come. She’d had a hard day, and he didn’t want to disturb her.
He wished she would wake up.
A sound at the door drew him around. A nurse entered the private room nearly as quietly as Grey had. Glancing at her patient, she whispered, “It looks like the new mother is sound asleep. Are you a friend? Or relative? Or are you the father?”
It occurred to Grey that he knew nothing about the baby’s father. He considered the other categories. “I suppose you could say I’m a friend.”
Kelly’s eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes opened. Grey started to smile.
“Judge Colton!” she said.
The smile never made it to his mouth. He would never forget the pride he’d felt the first time someone had addressed him that way. Judge Colton. Tonight, he was disappointed.
“So you’re the man who helped bring the baby into the world!” The nurse thrust a thermometer into Kelly’s mouth, and held a stethoscope to her chest. Next her blood pressure was taken. After making notations on a chart, the nurse said, “Later, we’ll get you up so you can take another walk. I believe Joanne is on her way with your baby.”
As if on cue, another nurse entered the room, pushing a plastic Isolette in front of her. “I hear you’ve had a nice nap!” she exclaimed. “The baby’s been sleeping, too, but I think she wants to see her mama now.”
All eyes were on the child as the nurse scooped the infant up and deposited her into Kelly’s waiting arms. The baby had been bathed, and was wearing the smallest white shirt Grey had ever seen. Her eyes moved beneath her closed lids, and her little lips parted.
“Alisha,” Kelly said softly, “do you remember Judge Colton?”
The other nurse said, “Ring if you need anything, dear.” Both left the room.
Grey finally completed the trek closer. “Grey,” he said quietly, his gaze on Kelly. “After this afternoon, ‘Judge’ seems a little formal, don’t you think?”
Kelly shrugged, nodded, shrugged again. She thought it was a good thing the nurse had finished taking her pulse, because it skittered alarmingly as she stared at the dark-haired, dark-eyed man who had delivered her daughter. Despite the comforting weight of her child in her arms, she was aware of a current in the air and a tingling in the pit of her stomach.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head. He handed the stuffed toy to Kelly, but didn’t readily release it. For a long moment, they both held it. She looked up at him, recalling everything he’d done for her. He’d seen her at her worst. No man in his right mind could be attracted to her after that. That meant this was one-sided. She would have liked to deny even that. She’d just had a baby. Women who’d just had babies couldn’t possibly feel attraction.
“Are you in pain?” he asked.
Physically, not really. Emotionally, he had no idea! But she shook her head a second time. What she was feeling was simply gratitude. And respect. Okay, maybe even genuine fondness.
Oh, dear. Genuine fondness wasn’t good. Feeling genuine fondness for the judge had all the markings of a major complication.
Smoothing the wrinkles from the baby’s blanket, Kelly reminded herself that she couldn’t afford any more complications. She had her daughter to think about. This beautiful, precious child was all that mattered. It had been this way since the moment Kelly had discovered she was pregnant. The very fact that Alisha had been conceived hours before Kelly’s divorce had been final was proof that when it came to matters of the heart, she didn’t always make the smartest choices. Sealing the divorce with a kiss hadn’t seemed like such a strange request when Frankie had made it. Despite all his faults, her ex-husband was a great kisser. Unfortunately, far too many women knew it. She’d loved him once, and he’d hurt her terribly. She had Alisha now, and she could no longer afford to allow her emotions free rein over her common sense.
Still, she didn’t know quite what to make of the feelings swelling her heart this very minute. Serious and brooding, Judge Colton was the wrong kind of man for her. Not wrong in the same way that Frankie had been maybe, but wrong just the same. Frankie DeMarco was charming, fun-loving and the life of every party. He was everyone’s friend. She’d learned the hard way that he was nobody’s hero, especially not hers.
She stared at Alisha’s tiny face, memorizing every feature. Alisha was hers, all hers. The nurses all said she looked just like Kelly. Maternal love washed over her with such force tears welled in her eyes.
“Do you want me to call the nurse?”
It had been an emotional day. Blinking back tears, Kelly studied the judge. He had a rugged physique, broad shoulders, a muscular chest. His facial features were dark and chiseled, striking and strong, his chin, his cheeks, his forehead. She didn’t know much about his personal life, but today, he’d been her hero, which probably meant that this was hero-worship, and nothing more.
Smoothing the fine wispy hairs on the baby’s soft head, she sighed in relief. “I don’t need the nurse, thanks.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
She shook her head. “You can stay awhile if you’d like.”
Grey couldn’t quite understand why he felt compelled to stay, but he did. He sat in the chair next to the bed and studied the baby. He’d never had much of an interest in babies. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off this one. “You named her Alisha?”
“I’d been tossing other names around these past months. William, after my grandfather, if she’d been a boy, Grace for a girl. After we got here, and the doctor checked us both out, I held her, and watched her sleep. And I kept thinking about the stories you told me when I was having her. About your mother, Alice, and your grandmother. I considered naming her Gloria, but Alisha Grace feels right.”
“Alisha Grace,” he repeated. “It suits her.”
Kelly nodded. “Alisha, after your mother. Any woman who raises six children, one of whom didn’t panic and was able to deliver a baby in his chambers in less than ideal conditions, deserves a special honor.”
Somewhere down the corridor, a baby cried. Kelly’s baby opened her eyes, as if curious about the sound. She was going to be smart, Grey thought. She was already observant. He touched her tiny hand. Instantly, she grasped his finger, her grip unbelievably strong for someone so small.
“Did you see the news?” Kelly asked.
He nodded, mesmerized by the baby’s clear gray eyes looking up at him.
“I didn’t think about the press,” Kelly whispered, “or how they might want to do a story about what happened.”
He hadn’t, either.
“It was wise of you to be unavailable for comment.”
Grey lifted his gaze, and found Kelly looking at him. Her makeup was gone, her face clean scrubbed. Her hair had been brushed, the overhead light casting shadows below her cheekbones and beneath her chin. Her eyes were clear and observant and very green above the faded blue hospital gown. Her nose was narrow, her mouth was…
Kissable.
He forced his gaze away and stood, the action tugging his finger from the baby’s grasp so quickly he startled her. For a moment, he thought she was going to cry. He held his breath, releasing it only after the baby relaxed again, secure and safe in Kelly’s arms.
“I wasn’t really prepared to be interviewed,” Kelly confessed.
“You handled it like a pro.”
She smiled down at her daughter. Apparently in the mood to chat, she said, “I’m an attorney. You’re a judge. Some people might read more into what you did for me and Alisha.”
Grey scratched at the prickly skin on the back of his neck.
“They could even think I might try to use the incident to gain special treatment in court,” Kelly said. “I assure you that that won’t happen.”
“Of course not.”
“If you ever need a kidney, come see me.” She wavered him a smile. “Otherwise, rest assured, it’ll be business as usual.”
She lifted her gaze, and held out her hand. Grey had a feeling that somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she knew exactly what she was doing. What did she mean it would be business as usual from now on? He took her hand, shaking it as if in slow motion.
Kelly’s heart expanded, and something very close to sexual attraction uncurled in the pit of her stomach. She’d been experiencing mild afterbirth pains. This was different. It wasn’t hero-worship, either. Oh, dear, she thought. This was bad. It definitely had all the markings of a major complication.
Only if she let it. She withdrew her hand from his grasp. “Thank you.”
He bristled. “We both did what had to be done.”
My, my. “I was referring to the flowers, the balloons and the plush toy for Alisha.”
Silence. He wasn’t happy, but at least she’d put whatever was between them back on an even keel. Now she had to keep it that way. “I guess I’ll see you in court, Judge,” she said.
“Grey.” His eyes glittered, as if daring her to dispute it.
“But I thought we agreed…”
“You said it best yourself this afternoon. We’ve shared too much for such formalities, at least outside the courtroom.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“What did you say, then?”
She gulped, because what she’d said was that only a woman’s doctor and her lover should see her the way Grey had seen her. Oh, no, he didn’t. She wasn’t going to repeat that.
He had the nerve to smile.
It was a nice smile, a masculine smile, a disarming smile that sneaked up on her, causing her to smile, too.
“Kelly?”
“Hmm?”
“You and I both know I’m not your doctor.”
He walked to the door on silent footsteps, and Kelly was left with her mouth hanging open, her heart beating a heady rhythm, her mind reeling.
From the doorway, he said, “Call me if you need anything.”
“That’s what I was trying to…I don’t think…That is, it would be best if…” She clamped her mouth shut, raised her chin. In a steadier voice, she said, “I won’t need anything. I’ll see you in court.”
She caught his expression before he turned on his heel and left. Her point had hit its mark.
“I probably shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered, nuzzling Alisha’s unbelievably soft cheek. “What else could I do?”
The baby started to cry. The waaa-waaa grew in volume until Kelly hugged her to her breast. Instantly, the crying stopped. That was easy, she thought, stroking the baby’s head. When it came to her child, she just had to do what came naturally. The same did not apply to Grey Colton. And that was final.

Chapter Three
The courtroom was quiet as Grey studied the document in front of him. He made a notation, then looked straight at the man standing before him. “Forty hours of community service!” His decree was punctuated by one sharp rap with his gavel.
“But, Your Honor, this was my first offense…”
“Make it your last and we’ll get along better in the future.”
“But I thought—”
Grey silenced the young man with a quelling glare and a quiet question. “Would you like me to make it sixty hours?”
A buzz went through the people waiting to stand before Judge Colton for whatever misdemeanor they’d committed. The youngest judge in Comanche County was reportedly also the toughest. Although he was neither condescending nor self-serving, no one knew exactly what to expect. In the courtroom, he was swift, cutting, but just. Nobody cared to meet him in a dark alley. Especially not today.
The attorney answered for the young man who’d been caught red-handed desecrating public property. “No, Your Honor. My client will do his forty hours.”
Grey caught the covert glance the attorney and his client shared. They’d been hoping he would be more lenient because the younger man’s record had been clean up to this point. Earlier that morning, Grey had seen two attorneys on opposing sides share a similar look, obviously in unprecedented and total agreement: Judge Colton was even tougher than usual today.
They were wrong. It was possible that Grey was more abrupt, his tone sharper today, but his sentencing was fair, as always. He hadn’t let his mood influence the punishment. If he had, the last woman, a shoplifter, would have gotten life.
The next case went quickly, as did the one after that. At ten minutes before twelve, Grey pounded his gavel a final time and broke for lunch.
“All rise!”
Grey gathered up his papers, strode past the bailiff, then retreated to his chambers. The second the door was closed, he removed his black robe. He ran a hand through his hair.
He was agitated. He didn’t get agitated. Judges needed to be cool, calm and collected. They needed to be focused. They had to be able to sit for long periods of time without moving, their minds sharp, their knowledge of the law indisputable.
Grey approached every case as an important one. And every person who left his courtroom, be it drunks, petty thieves or those accused of far more serious crimes, got a crash course about the price he extracted from anyone who chose to break the law.
Judge Grey Colton had no regard or patience for dishonesty, and he’d never met an honest criminal. Lawbreakers made the world a dismal place. Except in very rare instances, there was no excuse for what they did. If it were possible to send all criminals to an island and let them prey on each other, America would need fewer judges. It didn’t work that way. Criminals tended to be repeat offenders, and they preyed on innocent people. It was the innocent people Grey had vowed to protect. It was why he’d become a judge. Ultimately, it was the reason he had his sights set on a position on the Oklahoma State Supreme Court.
He’d charted his path in his early twenties. He was still on course a dozen years later.
He strode to the supple leather couch. For some reason, he wound up studying his hands. They didn’t look any different; the palms were broad, his fingers squared at the tips. He’d held a child in them as she’d taken her first breath.
Until that moment, he’d thought that pounding a gavel was the most important function his hands could perform. He’d said it best to Kelly himself. He was no doctor. And he didn’t want to become one. He didn’t.
He liked what he did. He believed in what he did. He was good at what he did. He was agitated. That was all. And it had something to do with that baby. And perhaps her mother.
Kelly Madison had made herself clear. If he ever needed a kidney, she’d said, come see her. In other words, she would never forget what he’d done, but in everyday life, she was a defense attorney and he was a judge. She was a sunny sky. He was a gray storm. He was oil. She was a refreshing sip of water on a warm day. Oil and water didn’t mix.
He went to his desk and sat down. He opened a folder and scanned a document. His gaze trailed to the wallet lying in the corner near his green desk lamp. The cleaning service had been here overnight. Evidently, they’d discovered the wallet under a cushion.
He picked up Kelly Madison’s wallet, only to return it to the desk. He already knew what was inside. Her address for one thing, and a credit card and driver’s license.
He was reaching for the phone to call a messenger service to deliver it to her, when the phone rang beneath his hand. “Judge Colton,” he said.
“They’re kicking me out.”
He recognized that smooth, lilting voice. “Who is?” he asked.
“The hospital,” Kelly said. “They’re sending me home.”
“You don’t want to go home?”
“I want to. I’m scared to death, but my parents are due to arrive later this evening. It isn’t that. It’s just that none of my friends are at their desks, and my keys are still locked in my car. I would call a cab, but I seem to have lost my wallet. And I know what I said about you and me and business, but I didn’t know who else to call.” She took an audible breath. “They’re kicking me out. Something about insurance.”

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