TrustintheLawe_w4282

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

  Stark fear dilated her pupils until her brown eyes were nearly black. Her breathing grew shallow, and she gulped twice before stuttering, “Y-you know w-who I am.”

  He tightened his grip on her shoulders, then became aware of how delicate they seemed under his large hands and forced himself to ease up. “I don’t believe it. You’re up to something, and you’ve got about five seconds to tell me what it is.”

  “H-honestly, I’m n-not.”

  Colton scoffed. “So, it’s merely coincidence that you robbed me this morning and then show up here claiming to be some long lost relative?”

  “It’s nothing more than cruel coincidence—I swear to God.”

  “Don’t you dare do that. I don’t buy one word of it.” He leaned closer, ignoring her trembling beneath his hands. “Who are you? What do you want with Joel?”

  “He told you, I’m his sister. Please…all I want is a place to stay until my…until we get back on our feet. We have nowhere else to go.”

  He caught her hesitation, saw a brief flash of panic, and wondered what she’d been about to say. He searched her expression for any kernel of truth to her words.

  In the space of a heartbeat, he became aware of the heat of her vibrating body. If he leaned down a few inches, their lips would meet. His pulse thrummed. The urge to do just that was so great it left him shaken as he stared into her eyes. She was an untrustworthy, lying, thieving, scheming con artist.

  And he’d never felt an immediate attraction like this in his life.

  Praise for Stacey Joy Netzel’s other works

  MISTLETOE RULES — 1st Place,

  Wisconsin RWA Write Touch Readers’ Award

  “I smiled my way through this book. Each story has a clearly-defined nicely-developed plot and distinct, well-rounded characters. ...an absolutely delightful Christmas treat. Grab this one to de-stress during the holiday rush.”

  ~Water Lily, Long and Short of It Reviews

  (Best Book/5 Stars)

  CHASIN’ MASON

  “If you’re looking for a contemporary cowboy/cowgirl story, this one will fit the bill perfectly. ...you’ll find a soft spot in your heart for this one and it’s a story that I would highly recommend to others!”

  ~Diana, Night Owl Romance Reviews (Top Pick)

  DRAGONFLY DREAMS

  Nominated Best E-book Short Romance LASR 2007

  “Lifetime Keeper to be read and reread. Such a wonderfully sweet, romantic Holiday story! Terrific characters, well written, plotted nicely with an ending that will have you believing in the kindness of your fellow man. I couldn’t read it fast enough! The story really pulled me in and kept me firmly in its grasp until the end, which I was sad to see because I fell for all of the characters so hard.”

  ~Seriously Reviewed

  IF TOMBSTONES COULD TALK

  “Sweet, sensual and one of the most romantic stories I've ever read. ...an incredible storyline that kept me intrigued until the very end. The ending brought tears to my eyes.”

  ~ Amanda, Romance Junkies (4 Stars)

  Trust

  in

  the Lawe

  by

  Stacey Joy Netzel

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Trust in the Lawe

  COPYRIGHT Ó 2011 by Stacey Joy Netzel

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Nicola Martinez

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 706

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Yellow Rose Edition, 2011

  Print ISBN 1-60154-880-X

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To Mickey and Tracy,

  my catalysts to discovering

  a soul-deep love of the beautiful Rocky Mountains

  in the great state of Colorado.

  Chapter One

  Kendra Zelner hated the desperation that gnawed at her gut even more than the hunger pains. It’d started the night she’d taken her eight-year-old brother, Noah, and run. But it kept her moving, kept her alert—and made her do things she never would’ve imagined she could do.

  She was desperate all right. For herself, but more so for Noah, who hid behind a blue Cape Cod house just a few blocks from the bus station, and almost a block away from the car she hoped to steal. No, borrow—it’s not like she planned to keep it.

  She’d never done anything like this in her twenty-four years. She knew not only the distinct differences between right and wrong, but the subtle ones as well—even if her parents hadn’t been around to teach her.

  Damn Robert for lowering me to his level.

  There was nothing subtle about what she planned to do. It was just after five on a Monday morning, and the Boulder, Colorado neighborhood slept through the crimson dawn. She cast her gaze around once more, stress-worn nerves threatening to send her and her shaking hands back into the shadows. But she didn’t have a choice, they had to keep moving; Robert had made sure of that.

  The rusted maroon four-door was just one of numerous cars she’d checked, but the first with an unlocked door. She opened the passenger side and gave a brief glance at the empty ignition. No, she hadn’t expected to find the keys, but still, she’d hoped. Pushing aside the absurd notion that anything could be that easy for her these days, she opened the glove box and then gaped at the contents.

  Keys and a wallet.

  It was like God was telling her to go right ahead. Her hand paused above the keys as her conscience contradicted her mind.

  More like the devil.

  She swallowed, cast another nervous look around, and snatched the wallet instead. Flipping it open, she counted the blessed money inside: twenty, thirty, thirty-five. Not much, but certainly enough to get her and Noah something to eat before they made what would hopefully be the final leg of their journey.

  Noah hadn’t eaten more than a couple crackers since yesterday’s lunch; it’d been the dinner before for her. Despite unlimited credit lines, she’d found out the hard way her cards were worthless as Robert had used them to track her and Noah to California.

  The thought of their half-brother having found them so easily made her shiver even more than the cool, damp Colorado air. She shook her head to clear the unwelcome vision of Robert from her mind so she could stay one step ahead of him.

  ****

  Fresh from a hot, start-the-morning-right shower, Colton Lawe ran a towel down his chest before wrapping it around his waist. He grabbed another and used one end on his hair as he made his way to the kitchen.

  The aroma of fresh brewed hazelnut coffee filled the air, prompting an appreciative, “Mmmm.”

  His mother was a saint. She knew what he liked and no matter how tight money stretched, she always stocked the treat for his frequent visits, knowing he never allowed himself the luxury. He silently praised her for setting the programmable coffee pot, knowing he’d be up early for work.

  He glanced out the window while reaching for a mug. The brilliant hue of the blood-red sky to the east made him pause as something his father used to say echoed in his mind. ‘Red skies at night, sailor’s delight; r
ed skies in the morning, sailor’s warning.’

  A sad smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Craig Lawe had never been a sailor, but it hadn’t kept him from repeating those words whenever he saw a crimson sky. Even now, eight years after the accident that had left his father a comatose paraplegic, whenever Colton recited the phrase during a visit, he swore he saw a spark of recognition enter his father’s green eyes. Eyes so like his own, sometimes it felt like looking in a mirror.

  He shook off the weight that threatened to descend whenever he thought of his dad, and poured a cup of coffee before returning to the window. A light layer of frost covered the grass that’d sprouted in the ever-increasing warmth of May. It would melt soon, as another nice day was expected—or so the weatherman on Channel 5 had predicted last night.

  From the corner of his eye, Colton saw movement through the window. He paused and scanned the yard, but came up with nothing. Straightening, he began to turn away—until he saw it again.

  His gaze zeroed in on a slight figure leaning into his car. What the hell…? He’d locked the doors last night, he always locked his car doors. Yet, someone was rifling through his glove compartment and—

  Shit! He’d left his wallet in there! Colton slammed his coffee down. Hot liquid sloshed over onto his hand.

  Shaking it off with a rough curse, he sprinted out the door. The frosty cement steps iced his bare feet, lending added volume to his, “Hey!”

  The thief jerked his head up, banging it on the roof of his car. Make that her head. Colton pulled up in surprise when large doe eyes widened in a distinctly feminine face. In that split second pause, she bolted.

  Colton hollered again and gave chase along the chilly sidewalk.

  Man, she’s fast!

  About twenty yards into the chase, Colton felt his towel loosen. With his next step, it dropped from his hips. He jerked to a halt. In the process of reaching for his towel, he realized the girl had stopped to watch. Disjointed thoughts whirled in his head.

  Towel. Thief. Naked.

  A flush of embarrassment spread through his body when her gaze dropped. A quick smile played across her lips and fiery heat exploded in his cheeks. He snatched up his towel, only to glance up again to discover the girl had disappeared.

  He frowned, wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. Imagined her.

  Colton’s gaze lit upon the open car door, and he was grimly assured he hadn’t imagined a damn thing. He also saw that, while his spare keys lay on the floor of the passenger side, his wallet was gone. Damn it! He was positive he’d hit the automatic locks last night…but then again, his confrontation with Cassie had left him pretty worked up.

  A growl vibrated his throat. If he hadn’t caught the little thief when he did, would he have been minus his wallet, the keys and the car? Not that the car would’ve been much of a loss, but it got him where he needed to go.

  “Little witch,” he mumbled, slamming the door, keys in hand. The red sky mocked him as he took the steps in two strides and entered the house. He headed straight for the bathroom to get dressed, contemplating his luck.

  Never all that good to begin with, lately it seemed worse than ever. The bills for his father’s care were mounting, his casual thing with Cassie had taken a nosedive last night, and now his wallet had been stolen.

  He couldn’t afford any of it—literally.

  As far as Cassie was concerned—Casual Cassie Blake—Colton hadn’t wanted a girlfriend, and she’d assured him at the onset of their ‘relationship’—if that’s what one would call it—that the last thing she wanted was a boyfriend. A fact she’d reiterated by dating a new guy every other week while still showing up at his apartment for sex every once in awhile.

  Things had been fine until last night when she’d sprung that ‘women’s prerogative’ crap on him, revoked the arrangement she’d initiated, and demanded the commitment she’d scoffed at so often over the past year. They’d argued. She’d pleaded, and finally cried. He’d left feeling a little guilty, but more annoyed than anything. He was not going to put up with her pressuring him. He didn’t plan to get married, not in this lifetime, and she’d known that up front.

  Colton pulled on his jeans but paused with his hand on the zipper. His little thief was almost the exact opposite of Cassie. Petite, with brown hair and eyes. She’d had full lips…full smiling lips.

  What the hell had she been smiling at?

  He glanced down. With a snort of annoyance, he jerked the zipper up. She could smile all she wanted; it’d been cold, dammit! He yanked on a green and black plaid flannel over his white T-shirt and stalked to the kitchen to call his boss to let him know he’d be late. He had credit cards to report stolen and a driver’s license to replace.

  All the while he fumed over his damned luck.

  ****

  Kendra braced her hands on the counter and stared critically into the mirror above the sink of the diner’s bathroom. At least her face was clean; it was a place to start. And if she concentrated on being grateful for the clear skin and dark lashes she’d inherited from her mother, it would keep her mind off her greasy ponytail and rumpled, unrecognizable designer clothes.

  She sighed with resignation. Noah looked even worse. Not that she could blame him. If she hadn’t been able to keep her clothes clean over the past three days, how could she expect her little brother to?

  “Focus on the positive,” she whispered. But was there any positive when one’s own brother was trying to kill you for money?

  Another sigh escaped even as she realized she should be thankful she and Noah were alive.

  She pulled out the picture her mother had given her in the hospital, enclosed with a letter. So many times she’d looked at it over the past two years, and the only difference she saw between herself now, and her mother then, was that her mother appeared to be happy at age twenty-four, standing next to a man Kendra now knew to be her mother’s first husband.

  Her own face in the mirror reflected nothing but despair. In fact, it’d been so long since she’d been happy about anything, she didn’t remember what it felt or looked like anymore.

  With a blink, she shook her head and remembered Noah still sat alone out in the restaurant. Colorado was the very last place Robert would expect her to go, but she still shouldn’t leave him by himself this long.

  As she exited the bathroom, she was thankful to see his dark head still buried inside the book next to his plate. His love of reading and thirst for knowledge never ceased to amaze her.

  Sliding into the booth across from him, she forced a bright smile. “Almost done?”

  “Yep.” He shoveled the last forkful of pancake into his mouth, gulped the remainder of his milk, and then asked, “Aren’t you going to eat more?”

  In front of her sat a plate that’d held two pieces of toast. Next to it was her empty coffee cup. She thought about how much the taxi company quoted for the ride to the address she’d given and knew the money she’d stolen would barely cover it. “I’m not really hungry,” Kendra lied.

  Noah tilted his dark head. After the past few weeks, there was a wisdom in his young eyes that didn’t belong there. But he didn’t question her further.

  Her heart ached for him, and she hoped she’d made the right decision. Not in leaving New York, but in where they were going now. She had no idea if the half-brother her mother had revealed in her letter would help them, or turn them away.

  She gathered their meager belongings and, as they waited for the taxi, Noah asked her another question. “Ken? Do you think he’ll be nice?”

  Since he’d practically read her mind, ‘he’ could only be Joel Morgan. A man neither of them had ever met. A man whom they’d only found out about after their mother died. A man who still didn’t know of their existence. Noah had asked her about him ever since they’d fled California.

  Despite the reassuring arm she laid across his shoulders, she knew this was one answer she couldn’t sugarcoat. “I don’t know, Noah. I certainly hope so.�
�

  He was quiet as they climbed into the taxi, and remained so as the car wound through the city streets into the mountains beyond. Kendra was thankful for his silence, until she found herself thinking back to the encounter with the towel-clad hulk on the sidewalk.

  Colton Jay Lawe: blond hair, green eyes, six feet three, one hundred and ninety-five pounds. Or so the driver’s license in his wallet said. But his hair hadn’t looked blond to her, more like the color of the warm croissants her mother used to have delivered from the gourmet bakery in Manhattan. And the hair down…up on his chest…was darker, too.

  Warmth infused her face. She rubbed a hand across it, looking out the window at the sun glinting off the spring leaves of the trees. Judging by the towel around his waist, he’d just showered and that’s why his hair appeared darker, because of the water.

  One hundred and ninety-five pounds. That sounded like a lot when she considered her own hundred and five. But then again, he’d been tall and it certainly wasn’t like he had any fat on him—anywhere.

  And then she’d smiled, of all things.

  She dug her fingers into her thigh so she’d stop picturing the man. What shocked her was that she’d felt anything sexual in response to being presented with a naked man. For almost four years, ever since that night…well, she hadn’t felt much of anything besides fear and distrust for any man.

  In fact, just the brief thought of the past turned her breathing shallow. She took a deep breath, then another. Discreetly applying the techniques she’d taught herself, she forced the dark thoughts and pulse-pounding fear away.

  She supposed the smile had been a combined result of nervousness, fear and embarrassment. And a tiny bit of humor, she admitted. The look on his face as he stood there without his towel had been priceless.