Breed True (15 page)

Light flickered into life, and the man stood holding the woman in his arms. Grady didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

"Gotta get these horses put up, then we'll go inside," he said gruffly.

Stepping from the man's arms, the woman turned to tend her mount. Her face was devoid of emotion as she stripped the blanket and followed him to the rope cross-tie, strung across the barn.

The Indian followed her with his eyes, and Grady had no trouble reading his face. It was a picture of worry. He led his horse to tie up beside hers.

Grady told them both, "Come on into the house with me. You can meet"—he hesitated for a moment and then finished—"my woman and my babies."

The words resounded in his head after he spoke—
my woman, my babies
. And then swiftly the truth echoed in his head.
Claim one, claim them all.

The air was thick with tension, and Grady looked to the couple. She remained still and the Chiricahua male silent, but Grady had no doubt that a war of words was going on.

Any peace that had reigned in the barn, as a haven after the storm, was ended. Grady headed out the door, carrying the lantern. "Follow me, and keep close," he ordered.

The woman put her hand on his back and the her husband put his hand on hers, forming a chain as they forged toward the cabin through snowdrifts that now came up to Grady's knees in the open spaces.

When the small woman stumbled, floundering in thigh-deep muck, the Chiricahua warrior swept her into his arms and grunted in clear English. "Go, I have her."

The door swept open before they reached the ranch house, and Julie stood, lantern in hand, lighting the way inside. Whatever her feelings were about the wet nurse, she seemed glad that he'd made it back. It gave him an unexpectedly warm feeling to have her standing there waiting for him.

He stepped aside and let the other man, who was carrying his wife, through the door first. The cabin smelled like stew, and Grady looked around hopefully.

"Let's get you out of these wet clothes," Julie handed the woman a towel and a blanket and ignored both of the men, so Grady knew she wasn't talking to him. He was just glad she hadn't found a weapon to use on him while he was gone.

Instead, she treated the woman civilly and bustled around the cabin like she had fine guests calling. The twins woke up and began to fuss, and Grady suddenly had four females to deal with, and the thought left him wondering uncomfortably if he'd bitten off more than he could chew. Girls and women had been no part of his life, and suddenly they outnumbered him in his home.

But then he remembered the night before and decided he could learn a woman's ways, at least, Julie's ways.

Chapter Twelve

Julie was sick at heart. She'd spent the first hours after Grady Hawks left pacing the length of the cabin. At one point, she had even resolved to gather up the twins and walk off of Hawks Nest land. Listening to the wind whistle around the corner of the house, she was glad that she hadn't been so foolish.

At suppertime, she set the kettle of stew on the table and cut the loaves of bread that still steamed from the oven. The men filed in and sat at the table, but her husband was not with them.

As usual, they ate silently and ignored her. "Where is Mr. Hawks?" She directed her question to Rowdy, because he was a white man and seemed more approachable. It was the man called Dan Two-Horse who answered.

"He rode out this morning." She knew that. She'd seen Grady Hawks swing into the saddle and ride from the ranch yard.

"Where did he ride?" Her tenacity surprised her. "That's a blizzard out there. Is he out in this?"

Upset as she was with him, she still felt like these men should be hunting Grady, not filling their stomachs with her stew.

Rowdy mopped his plate with the slab of fresh bread, stuffed it in his mouth, and spoke around it. "Figure he'll be in soon. I'll head out and look for him if he's not back by the end of supper."

That was what she'd been hoping for. She had rehearsed her speech to Grady Hawks all day. Now she had no one to deliver her words to, not to mention that he was out in a bad storm, and instead of retaining her anger, she'd begun to worry about him.

The three men at supper, Navajo, Dan, and Rowdy, saddled up and rode into the blizzard when Grady wasn't back. The girls had fussed all day, she didn't know why, and between the storm, their on-and-off-again crying, and Grady's continued absence, her nerves were on edge.

When three riders came back into the stable yard, they were too far away for her to discern who they were. Because there were three, she assumed it was the Hawks Nest riders and not her husband. When the figures started for the house, she was ready at the door, waiting to throw it open and light the way.

Julie was relieved to see Grady Hawks alive, although he looked frozen to the core.

He stood dripping by the front door, seeming stunned by her rapid assumption of authority.

Julie brushed by the other man and led the unresisting woman to the fire to sit on a chair she'd moved there. The Indian woman's husband quickly knelt before her and unlaced the knee-high soft leather boots.

Julie warmed a blanket on both sides, handed it to the woman's husband, and then warmed another which she carried to Grady Hawks and wrapped around his shoulders after he shrugged out of his coat. He shivered, and she returned to the stove where stew simmered.

She'd put on a fresh pot of coffee as soon as she'd seen the three horses, and so she poured three cups—two for the couple in front of the fire and one for her husband.

After he'd left in the morning and she'd slammed all the pans in the kitchen at least twice, she'd sat holding the babies, crying. When they began to howl with her, she calmed and quieted.

It was a hard truth to face, but she was where she had bargained to be. Grady Hawks wanted a son. He needed to deed his land to his child. As plain as the house was, she understood his need to save it and the land of his father, to pass on to an heir.
Am I any
better? I made this deal to get something worth having for my girls.

This was a home that provided safety and comfort for Emma and Amy. On her own, she had been unable to afford either for her daughters. Once that truth was accepted, her needs, wants, and desires meant nothing.

All day she'd paced and worried and planned. She couldn't leave, and in all honesty, she didn't want to. After four years of terrible conditions, frightening situations, and criminal companions, Hawks Nest was an answer to prayers unsent.

That Grady Hawks intended to assert his rights and use her body from now on seemed of little consequence in the grand scheme of things. If she stayed for a year, baby or not, her daughters would own valuable land. When she weighed that against the offer of escape that Comfort Quince tendered, she resolved to make the best of this situation.

The Quince woman would still be in Eclipse at the end of the year, and if Julie needed to accept the offer, it would still be there too.

Of course, a pesky thought found its way through all of the others. As the wife of a rancher, Julie already had more status than a gambler's wife or a single woman with children. It mattered not at all to her that her husband was part Indian. Kiowa, half-breed, or white—having any property-owning man to protect her and her girls was an unexpected opportunity.

She knew what awaited her once she left the haven of this ranch if she didn't fulfill her contract—no money, no home for the girls, and no decent life to offer them. Besides, from the story that the Quince rancher had carried to them, Alan Michaels still lingered in Eclipse.

So, she forced her anger aside and tried objectively to grasp control of her situation.

Grady Hawks wanted a child.
Naturally a boy will be expected.

What-if
she could be a real wife and let the girls grow up here in safety. She'd paced, sometimes carrying one daughter, sometimes another. She walked and hummed and soothed, made stew because it was easy, tended the fussy babies, and tried to feed them when they cried.

While she played the
what-if
game, her body prepared for what she knew she must do. Very little milk came down, and when the twins remained hungry, she resorted to honey water.

Emma had latched onto Julie's finger and gnawed on it when she smeared the honey along the baby's gum. She'd felt a bump on the bottom that she had never noticed before.

Emerald sniffled and seemed generally unhappy. Amy was usually quieter, but today she had been almost listless, and Julie feared she'd caught a cold. She drooled and cried most of the time.

Julie spread a blanket in the kitchen and surrounded them with rolled-up blankets.

The twins fussed and played and chattered and slept while she baked bread and biscuits.

She didn't explore the impulse to add cookies to the evening meal, but while the oven was hot for baking, she hunted up ingredients for her mama's drop recipe and mixed up a double batch.

She'd gone at top speed all day, trying to get back the time she'd spent having a tantrum. By the time supper came and the men ate, she'd made up her mind. She'd assume her position as Mrs. Grady Hawks, mother of two children and ranch wife. Julie decided that she would do whatever it took to keep her place on Hawks Nest Ranch.

When her husband stood dripping and cold by the door, she shoved a cup of hot coffee in his hands, took up another towel to blot up some of the water soaking his clothes and dripping on the floor, and wrapped a warmed blanket around his shoulders.

"Stew's ready. Your clothes are laid out on the bed. I'll have the food on by the time you change."

She gave him an order, but it was sensible and well planned, and left no reason to ignore her directions. He looked surprised before he crossed to the hall and disappeared inside the bedroom.

Julie spooned food into two bowls, cut off two hunks of warm bread, spreading butter over each, and carried the simple meal to the man and woman by the fire. The coffee cups were empty, so she hurried back to the stove and wrapped her makeshift apron around the handle and returned to the man, who held the cup up for a refill.

Grady Hawks came out in time to hear her say, "I don't have night clothes to offer your wife, but I have a dress she can change into."

The smaller woman trembled, teeth chattering, even as she tried to stem the shivers.

Just then, the babies woke and began to fuss. Julie turned away abruptly and hurried to the twins' cradle.

"Shhhhh, my lovelies," she murmured, indifferent to the other three adults in the room. She lifted Emma, who was whimpering as she had all day, settled her on her hip, and reached for Amy, but Grady was there before her, lifting her second daughter from the cradle.

He held her up, inspecting the baby, and when he saw the red rash on her chin, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Julie admitted. "They've both been cranky all day long."

"Are they hungry?" he asked hesitantly. He set his earlier stern animus aside as he inspected the babies for sickness.

There were a million unpleasant answers she could have given him. It seemed like all of them flitted through her mind. But bound by her earlier decision, Julie shook her head and told him the truth. "Neither girl ate much today. I think they've caught colds."

She touched Amy's cheek, worried that it was flushed a rosier hue than earlier. "I think she has a fever." The baby looked up at both of them as they peered into her face.

She yawned, and when she did, Julie was reminded of the bump on her gum.

"She has a bump in her mouth." Without words, he transferred the twin into her arms, went to the sink, and washed his hands thoroughly, returning to inspect Amy's mouth. She fussed and gnawed at his finger, and his frown turned to a smile.

"Is Emma fussing the same way?" He nodded at the baby in her arms and then inspected her mouth too.

"Teething," he announced. "Babies' gums are sore. Good time to wean them." His remark was so self-satisfied she couldn't control her sharp answer.

"How do you know such things, a man alone with neither chick nor child?"

He rubbed his jaw tiredly, and Julie was sorry she'd challenged him. But he answered her anyway.

"Babies of one kind or another all get milk teeth. Some just get them earlier than others. When it happens, they get cranky and started chewing on everything in reach."

He carried Amy to the table with him, and she followed and set the loaf of bread on the table after filling a bowl with stew. She juggled Emma on her hip as she worked.

Silence was easier than trying to have a conversation with this man.

When he finished the stew, she sat the crock of cookies on the table and filled his cup of coffee. After she watched him eat half a dozen of the confections and figured she'd sweetened his disposition as much as she could, she told him her decision.

She spoke quietly, but intended the woman and man by the fire to hear also. "You'll have to get a cow. I will feed my own children one way or another." She leaned over him and lifted Amy from his arms.

"Until then, I'll feed them as I have before." She'd almost made it to the hall doorway when he spoke.

"The cow will be brought tomorrow."

She nodded at the couple by the fire. "You folks can have the bedroom back here that my girls have been sleeping in. We'll be across the hall tonight."

She'd already moved her nightgown into the bigger room. The cradle sat next to the bed in reach of her hand should they waken in the night. She intended that there would be no more coupling with Grady Hawks while her children lay asleep in the same bed with them.

But then the Indian man unrolled a bedroll and made a place in front of the fire for him and his wife, and Julie felt silly for her offer. She retreated to the bedroom, and clutched a blanket around her as she hurried to get ready for bed.

She knew he liked her hair, so she took special care with the heavy waves, using the wooden comb he'd made her. Then she put a bolster between the cold wall and the cradle where the babies slept, crawled into her own cocoon of blankets, and fell asleep listening to the men's murmured voices speaking a language she didn't understand.