Читать книгу The Wolf's Surrender - Sandra Steffen - Страница 12

“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.