The Wolf's Surrender. Sandra Steffen
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?”