Breed True (11 page)

He let himself follow the gaze of his men. She looked younger with no paint on her skin. The red hair that was left from her morning tantrum curled softly around her face and fell to her shoulders.

Her boots steamed by the fire, still soaked from the morning's trek through the snow, and he fingered the pantalettes that should have protected her legs from the cold. He frowned. She'd changed back into the dress Hamilton Quince's wife had given her. It was too long and dragged the floor, catching on things. After he'd watched her stumble over it twice, he rose, unsheathed his knife, and crossed the room.

"Stand still," he ordered her. He crouched at her feet and cut the bottom four inches of material from the gown. Her feet were still bare. "Pick your foot up." He wrapped the first foot in the extra length, tying it off above her calf. She stood still, teetering, trying to not touch him.

Deliberately he ran his hand up the inside of her bare leg. A flush stained her cheeks pink, and since he knew it wasn't passion, he figured it for anger and was careful with the knife she'd already wielded once this day. Nevertheless, he explored the smooth flesh that pebbled under his touch, her heat scorching his fingers that itched to climb higher.

"You realize you just destroyed this dress, so I will not be able to return it." Her anxious words warned him that this was serious. "I don't want to owe the Quinces anything. Now I do."

He ignored her distress and set her first foot in place to lift the other. When he finished, she had makeshift socks protecting her feet from the cold floor.

He stood, slid his knife home and looked across at the babies. They waved at him, almost making him smile. "You cook and clean." His voice thickened, as had his cock, while he'd knelt on the floor touching what he wouldn't let himself have yet. He turned away, controlling his lust and told her gruffly, "I'll worry about the Quince woman's dress."

She answered sharply for his ears only. "Cooking and cleaning are extra duty. You brought me here to be a broodmare. That's what you'll get. Anything else will cost you."

He turned back and gripped her chin, forcing her head up so he could stare into her eyes. "Breed true, then," as though by his ordering it, her womb would assemble a baby with the features needed to please the white Texas citizenry.

"Sometimes I wonder how it is that men, being as stupid as they are, have come to be in charge."

The woman had to have the last word, but she didn't shift away from him, and he claimed that as victory. Whether she knew it or not, she hadn't feared sassing him.

His grip changed to a caress, and he stroked her jaw. "We're bigger than you, Julie.

That's why a beautiful woman has to find a man to take care of her. Otherwise the wolves will take her down."

"Who protects her from her protector?" she asked bitterly.

He dropped his hand and stepped back. "Maybe you'll decide that you can trust him,"

he murmured the words low enough to keep them private between them.

He had no idea what he was talking about. The words were not the rehearsed thoughts he'd mulled on while he was away from her. Being near her had a way of knocking sense from his head.

With no explanation, awkwardly he pulled out the comb he'd carved from wood that morning. When he handed it to her, she hesitated before she accepted the gift and tucked it into her pocket on her retreat to the cold bedroom she'd staked out for herself and the babies.

Grady watched her leave the room and wondered how long he'd be able to restrain himself from claiming her. He wanted to bury his face in the soft waves that now touched her shoulders. He lay awake that night, imagining the silken strands brushing across his body and used his hand to get release.

At breakfast the next morning, he caught the other men staring at the rich auburn locks and jealously wished he'd never told her to leave it down. He didn't want to share that part of her beauty with anyone.

* * * *

It was late autumn. The snow that had fallen the night of her arrival marked the beginning of the new season. Grady rode out every day and let Julie have the ranch house to herself. Julie served breakfast for the men and then retreated to the other side of the room where she fed the twins as she hummed softly to them. Even the clink of cutlery against plates stopped as they listened to the woman's voice.

After his cousin, Dan Two-Horse, had given him direction, Grady followed a morning ritual with her.

Grady and Dan had been standing in the barn, ready to ride to the high country and bring in late calves when Dan had told him to go back inside and say good morning.

"Your wife is like a thoroughbred that's been abused. Use her carefully, cousin. Woo her.

Let her know that you're her friend, her protector."

At first Grady had bristled at the advice. But Dan had continued anyway. "She's your wife. Make her want to be your woman. She's a good mother. Start with that and let her know she can trust you."

Grady and Dan-Two Horse were more like brothers than cousins. They knew each other better than most siblings. Grady had followed his father's white path, although the white world held him at arm's length.

Henry Hawks, Grady's father, had married an Indian woman to gain the land and had used Indian ranch hands to hold it. While he was alive, the other ranchers looked to him to keep the Apaches happy. But his death left this part of Texas in an upheaval, coming at the same time as migrating tribes of Indians crossed the mountains fleeing the U.S.

cavalry. The ranchers around Eclipse looked with suspicion on Grady with his mixed blood.

Dan, on the other hand, moved in and out of both worlds, mingling with the people of every race as easily as he whispered their horses.

"I see the way you look at her. That's good. She needs to know that you desire her."

Grady interrupted Dan sharply. "If you know so much about women, why don't you get your own?"

"I have a woman. She just doesn't know yet that she belongs to me." With no more explanation than that, Dan mounted and followed the other riders toward the foothills.

Grady had stood alone in the barn puzzling over his cousin's words. And then he'd gone back to the house.

"Thought I told you to bar the door." It wasn't much of a
good morning,
and she'd stepped back as though expecting violence.

"Come here." He could see that his gruff words frightened her, but he couldn't unsay them or change the tone he'd used, so he waited.

Her steps were reluctant as she approached. When Julie stood before him he studied her. The bruise was a fading mark on her otherwise creamy skin.

Grady cupped her face in his hands, holding her still when she tried to jerk away.

"Easy," he murmured. "Be easy, I'll not hurt you." And then he'd brushed his lips across hers and departed, leaving her stunned and silent.

"Don't forget to bar the door," he reminded her as he left. He'd tasted her lips and wanted more. After that, every morning before he left for the day's work, he called her to him for a kiss. After the first week, she even wrinkled her nose at him when he told her to bar the door.

He took that as progress, since she smiled at him during the process.

*

They fell into a routine that gave Julie's fears time to settle. Temporary sanctuary or not, Grady Hawks made her feel that she had a home and a reason for being. The big, silent rancher didn't hide his desire for her, but he didn't bother her at night or try to get personal except for the kiss he insisted on from her every morning. So, she cooked and cleaned the cabin instead of worrying about what she couldn't control.
I'll not be
beholden to him for any reason when we go.

The oak planks she walked on grabbed her attention first. The beautiful wood was streaked with mud, and on hands and knees she scrubbed the area, knowing that her daughters would soon learn to navigate in safety there. The best she'd been able to provide before was a dirt-packed floor that was never clean no matter how hard she'd tried to maintain it.

She worked all day, pouring her tension and anxieties into the strength of her labors.

When she heard horses enter the ranch yard, she cast a quick look out the big window to see her husband and the other ranch hands disappearing into the barn.

In a short time, the men filed into the room, following Grady Hawks to the table where their supper waited.

"Cold out," her husband grunted as he stomped his feet free of snow, leaving a muddy puddle where she'd just cleaned. The other men silently followed Grady's lead as they collectively headed for the food. Julie was aware of a few uneasy glances cast her way, as she mopped the floor free of the mess they'd tracked in. She didn't bother to hide her anger at the extra work they made for her.

While they ate the supper she had waiting, she left the twins in their cradle by the big fire and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Taking up the carrier she'd found by the fireplace, Julie escaped to the outdoors.

The snow in the ranch side yard was trampled and dirty, but the area in back where the woodpile sat was unblemished.

The air was crisp and invigorating as she stood in the pristine world and breathed deeply. It was the first time since the twins had been born Julie had ever felt completely free of fear. Her mission to fetch wood was forgotten as she stood in the middle of the clearing, gazing at the forest they'd ridden through to reach Hawks Nest.

She heard the snow crunch behind her but didn't turn to greet his approach. Instead, she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, a shield from him as much as the cold.

"Thinking of walking out of here with a baby on each hip?" He stood behind her shoulder, not touching but so close that she felt his heat.

"No," she answered him honestly. "I was wondering what keeps your enemies from sneaking through the woods and catching you sleeping."

He relaxed into an easier stance as he laid big hands on her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest. "I do."

"One man can't guard a border this long." Alan Michaels was on her mind. She needed to know that Grady Hawks truly did have a fortress.

"Listen." He made an eerie call that floated through the air toward the woods. In a moment, she heard a wolf's cry. The sound echoed up and down the perimeter of the trees, as the sentinels reported to each other and Grady.

"You're safe with me, Julie Hawks." Both his warm breath that brushed across her ear and his murmured words caused a jolt of heat inside of her. She was suddenly too aware of the man whose arms were now holding her close.

"Come back inside. It's too cold out here for that light blanket. You need a coat."

* * * *

Good food, quiet rest, and a sense of safety made Jewel easier in her mind than she had been since she'd married Frank Rossiter and begun her turbulent life in the West. The ranch pleased her, calling up memories of her early years on a farm.

Just as she'd explored every crack and crevice of Grady Hawks' house, so she looked around outside too. She bided her time to conduct her barn and outbuilding visit until the first clear morning after her arrival at Hawks Nest. When the men rode away from the ranch house, she bundled the twins into layers of Grady's clothing and carried them with her to snoop.

Like the house, the barn was solidly constructed, but it was built into the side of a hill so that there were two floors. Below, where the stalls were located, a wide door opened into a paddock for horses and a pen for livestock. A ladder on the side of the barn led through a cut hole in the floor to the upstairs. She held the babies close and walked around to the front and through that door.

There she found a tack room and the main area that was stacked full of hay, straw, and feedbags. A wagon sat in the middle of the wooden floor, ready with harness nearby, for trips to town.

On the way back to the house from her investigations, she stopped in the middle of the ranch yard and let her gaze sweep the woods at the edge of the back clearing. There were guards there. She knew it, could feel the power of the fortress surrounding her. For the moment it was a haven, not a prison. But Jewel wondered how far she would get if she hitched up the horse and wagon she'd found inside the barn and headed toward Eclipse.

Chapter Nine

"You looking for anything special in the barn today?" His question at supper was mild, but let her know that she'd been watched during her journey that morning.

She set the meal on the table before she answered, thinking of something to say besides the truth.
I've been marking future escape routes.

"Chickens," she told him. Hands paused in forking over the venison steaks from the platter, and she had the attention of the four men at the table.

She had no idea where that had come from, but since they were all listening, she embellished her story. "I had a flock of chickens on my mother's farm. I hated them then, but I can see now how handy it would be to have a good flock of layers here. Cooking for all of you, I've almost gone through the crate of eggs you had in the pantry. You'll have to double your usual order once I start baking bread."

The promise of future baked goods ended the ranch hands' curiosity about her barn exploration, but Grady's gaze was still speculative.

When he questioned her no more, she left the babies in their cradle and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders to go outside.

Talk started around the table as soon as she shut the front door, and she remained alone in the night as the men inside wrestled with whatever ranch problem had called a grim look to each face.

Jewel waited outside until she heard the men leave the cabin before she returned to the warmth inside. Holding a giggling twin under each arm, Grady Hawks greeted her at the door. "You finished taking your nightly constitutional?"

He stood aside as she entered but didn't relinquish the girls when she reached for them. He nodded toward the cleared table where steam drifted from two cups of coffee, and a filled plate sat waiting for her. He'd done her work for her while she'd been out dreaming under the stars. She flushed, expecting a rebuke. Instead he said, "You need to eat."