Lawman's Perfect Surrender

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Gemma agreed. “This does make me feel better. I may have made bad choices in the past, but that doesn’t mean I have to keep making them.”

“That’s my girl.” She patted Gemma’s thigh, as if they were old friends. “That’s what Samuel noticed about you. You’re eager to improve. I think that’s why he’s so partial to you.”

“He’s partial to me?” And why did he care if she was eager to improve? “How do you know that?”

“He told me. He admires anyone with that kind of strength and initiative. He wants you to succeed. The more people who succeed in this town, the better it will be.”

While Lacy intended to convey Samuel’s good intentions, there was an odd note to the way she spoke of him. Hero worship. Over the top. Samuel admired Gemma and wanted her to succeed. Why did he care that much? As a quite popular motivational speaker, she supposed he would have personal interest in anyone who was striving to go from being abused and downtrodden to thriving. Part of his work. Overcoming the mental side effects of her abuse was her goal. She hadn’t known Jed would become violent after she married him. Once she’d discovered that dark side, she’d felt stuck with him. Looking back, she realized that was because he’d beaten down her self-esteem so far that he’d controlled her. He’d controlled her with physical violence.

It hadn’t been easy to climb out of that hell and find the courage to leave. That had only been the first step. She hadn’t truly begun to feel capable of taking charge of her own destiny until she’d met Samuel and attended one of his seminars. He’d given her hope. He’d given her a light to follow. Light that had restored her self-esteem.

That went against everything Ford had insinuated about the people in this town, about Samuel. She didn’t get it. Why was he so negative? The seminars empowered her. They redirected her thinking. Whether Ford thought they were useless or not, they were helping her. Healing her.

A few stragglers entered the auditorium and found seats. The seminar would begin soon. But Gemma couldn’t stop thinking about Ford.

“What happened to his family?” she asked. “How were they murdered?”

“Burglars broke into their house. His dad woke up and fought one of them but he was shot. By then the rest of the family was awake. His younger brother was shot and his mother was raped before she was killed. Ford hid through it all. That’s the only reason he’s alive today. Otherwise, he would have been killed along with them.”

“Were the burglars ever caught? How many were there?”

“No. There were two. It’s been speculated that they were passing through town.”

“How old was he when it happened?”

“Fourteen.”

Fourteen. He was just a boy. A boy who’d hidden while his family had been tortured and slaughtered. He’d survived and they’d all died. It was a horror she couldn’t begin to imagine. He must have issues with guilt. How could he not? Though there had been nothing he could have done to save them, he might blame himself for not trying. It explained his evasiveness, his refusal to talk about his family.

“That poor man.”

“Don’t feel sorry for him. He’s made a life out of avenging them.”

That was no way to make a life.

Sitting back against her seat, Gemma could see how Ford would bottle something like that up, and she could also see how it would lead him to consume himself with law enforcement. But to carry that torch the rest of his life? That heavy burden? A debt he felt he owed? Didn’t he see what he was giving up? What did he want out of life? It was one thing to want a career in law enforcement, and quite another to do it out of obligation, forsaking his other needs.

“Ford’s a good man, Gemma. You couldn’t be in more capable hands.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“And you’re going to be the envy of every single woman in town. A handsome cop staying at your house. Protecting you. How romantic!”

“Needing protection because my ex-husband is trying to kill me isn’t what I’d call romantic.”

“I saw the way you looked at Ford when you met him.”

“Good evening, everyone,” the boisterous voice of Samuel Grayson boomed through the microphone. His tall, fit frame moved fluidly across the stage. Not a strand of dark hair was out of place, and his suit was of the finest materials.

“You have the power.” He pointed to the audience. “Each and every one of you.” He strode to one side of the stage, stopped and strode to the middle again, where he faced forward and turned his head to scan the auditorium.

“You have the power to stop your ego from controlling your thoughts and actions.” He strode to the other side of the stage now. “Your ego is hungry for gratification,” he nearly shouted, walking back to the center. “It will seek out that gratification at any cost. It will throw you in front of a bus. It will lash out at those around you. Give less to receive more.”

Gemma leaned closer to Lacy. “He must be talking about my ex-husband.”

Lacy snickered behind her hand.

“Don’t ask what your ego wants,” Samuel continued. “Ask what you want, my fellow citizens.” He looked from one side of the auditorium to the other. “What do you want?”

“I want a boyfriend,” Lacy whispered.

I want Ford, Gemma almost replied.

Ford spotted Bo, dressed in a black uniform and wearing his badge, standing next to Grayson’s spread of tables underneath a huge white canopy at the center of the park. Similar in height to Grayson but brawny and unapproachable, Bo was bland in contrast to the community leader’s popular appeal. Swarms of admirers flocked near him. This was the place to be if you were anyone in Cold Plains. How many of them had a D