The Wolf's Surrender

“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.