by Gem Sivad
A door opened from the kitchen into a hall and doors that opened into bedrooms.
Regardless of Grady Hawks' promise of a makeshift cradle, she chose the smallest room that held a bed wide enough for her and the twins. Then she laid her daughters down, tucking a brightly colored blanket from the foot of the bed, around them.
Jewel rolled another blanket so that it would act as a bolster to keep the babies from falling off, and shoved the bed against the wall. After securing their safety, she continued to explore. There was another door at the end of the hall, and she hurried through it.
Jewel had never seen anything quite like it. There was a pit with rocks in the middle, and stacks of wood along the side. The room was cold, and she shivered, wondering what they roasted there. The wooden floor in the cabin left off in this room. Huge flagstones, like those used in the mammoth fireplace, were fitted together in a mosaic pattern, giving this room an exotic look. Except for an outer door, there were no openings or windows, but Jewel marked that exit and turned to leave.
The outside door opened, and she looked up, startled when Grady Hawks stood in the doorway. Big flakes of snow floated to the ground behind him, covering the ground rapidly.
"What are you doing in here?" He scowled at her and searched the corners of the room as though looking for others. "Where are the babies?"
"Asleep." The word was barely a whisper. His frown changed to a speculative look she had seen on too many male faces.
A light shone behind him in the building that Jewel assumed was the barn. She took her time answering, aware that his interest was more than concern for her daughters. His eyes appraised her openly, measuring the woman he'd bound to him.
"What is this room?" Jewel tried to distract his attention from her. She was swaying on her feet, ready to fall down, covered in the scent of breast milk, and he still looked at her with lust. It was hard to hide her disgust, and he must have gotten her silent message.
"Sweat lodge," he growled, but then he surprised her when he turned to leave, grunting, "You look like you're done in. Better clean up and get to bed before you fall down."
As a welcome to her new home, it wasn't much, but it was the best offer Jewel had heard in a long time.
He left the room through the same door, and she gritted her teeth as she hurried to the kitchen, swallowing the thick knot of resentment that constricted her throat. This arrangement with Grady Hawks is one I agreed to. What was it Hamilton Quince had said? Want takes a poor second to need.
If Alan Michaels was hunting her, it was for one reason only. I know he murdered a man in cold blood. Jewel shuddered at the thought.
She surely needed a place to hide until she could leave the area. But looking around at her temporary home, she realized that Grady Hawks hadn't exaggerated. Hawks Nest really was a fortress, just as he had said.
In the kitchen, she pumped water into the sink and used a wet cloth to clean herself, getting out of her smelly dress and into her ragged nightgown, the only change of clothing she owned. Before she quit, she washed out the borrowed dress and soft chemise belonging to Comfort Quince and laid them out to dry in the big room before the fire.
As she changed, she was calmed by the knowledge that the ranch was isolated. Right now, her clothing, or lack thereof, seemed of little consequence. Alan Michaels can't follow me here.
Jewel went into the bedroom where the twins slept and curled around them, sharing her heat under the covers. She fell asleep immediately. The tumult of the day, the death of one husband, and his immediate replacement with another, was too bizarre for her to analyze.
Julie Fulton Rossiter Hawks gave herself up to oblivion and hoped that the next day would prove it all a bad dream. No one bothered her or her daughters, and she slept soundly, waking the next morning when Emerald flipped over on her belly and began to fuss.
Chapter Seven
Jewel fed and changed the girls, who promptly went back to sleep. She put the bolster up to keep them from falling and crept silently to the outer room, hurrying to the fire to grab her still-damp clothes.
The first thing she saw, bathed in golden light, was the double-sized cradle sitting in front of the fireplace. The fire crackled invitingly, and she felt the heat on her body through the thin folds of her night clothes. She knelt next to the baby bed and explored the craftsmanship, afraid to believe in good deeds.
It was made to hold both daughters. Gratefully, she went back to the cold bedroom, gathered up the sleeping babies, and returned them to the big room where she could hear them when they woke.
Then she shimmied into the dry chemise and damp dress and dared to hope for a day of rest that would give her time to gather her senses.
When Amethyst snuggled beneath the blanket and sighed contentedly, Jewel patted her cheek and then brushed a kiss against Emerald's forehead. "Your first bed, sweeties."
She smiled down at them.
She and the girls seemed to be the only ones in the house, which suited her. She snooped, looking for food first, and after she found the lard, potatoes, and smoked ham on the sideboard as though waiting for her use, she fixed herself a meal.
She ate and relaxed for the first time in months. The girls were safe in a new cradle.
Surely a man who provided such a nice piece of furniture for a stranger's babies meant them no harm. Then her mind skittered away from him.
He was a puzzle. In her world, people fell into two categories, those who hurt her—
and those who didn't. So far he hadn't done the first, and the cradle seemed reason enough for gratitude if not trust.
Her exploration of his home the night before had revealed a well-built structure. It was chinked tight so the wind and cold from outside stayed outside. The floor, wood planking planed and smoothed until it was a rich golden hue, fit snugly together, and although cold under her bare feet, it was lovely.
She wandered the perimeter, inspecting the sturdy furniture and thick walls. When she arrived at the big fireplace, she ran her hand across its dusty surface. Grady Hawks needs a good housekeeper. An intricately carved wooden box sat halfway across the heavy slab of oak. She pulled the top off, and looked at the contents. Inside, a thin turquoise ring rested on a piece of soft deerskin. Jewel could tell the ring had some special significance. Hastily she replaced the lid, unwilling to be caught snooping.
She moved to look out of one of the two windows on either side of the door. Two more windows were on the back wall, overlooking the ridge that they had ridden down the day before. Jewel recognized the expense of the glass that let her see every angle of the ranch.
She wanted to curl up like a cat on the window sill and lie in the morning sun, absorbing the heat of the day. But curiosity drove her into exploring further. The most exciting discovery was the pantry. It was well-stocked, and she found loaves of bread stacked there next to a bin of potatoes.
The sound of horses outside alerted her to his arrival home. A quick glance out of the front window confirmed that he was not alone. He was accompanied again by the men from the night before.
Jewel figured that at some point at least one hungry man would come through the door. From the look of the long table that took up most of the space in the main room, more than Grady Hawks ate here. She briefly wondered who had done the cooking before.
Thanking the days when she'd helped her mother feed field hands on the farm, she ruthlessly sliced two loaves of bread, setting them on the table as she found a skillet and stirred together chunks of the smoked ham and diced chunks of potatoes, browning them together.
Whether the men smelled the food or her timing was better than it had been for awhile, as soon as the hash was finished the door opened, and the men from the night before filed in.
No one spoke or looked at her, so after setting platters of hash and gravy next to the sliced bread and honey already on the table, she crossed the room and bent to pick up the babies.
She paused long enough to tell them, "I want to thank the
one of you who made this fine cradle for Emma and Amy, my twin daughters. It's their first bed."
The men ate as though she hadn't spoken. Her face flushed red at the insult. So I'm to be a servant to his needs but not a person in the home.
She stored that thought away for later and finished her speech.
"Anyway," she told them softly, "thank you." Before she could retreat, he spoke.
"Stay." Grady Hawks' one word was a command.
She froze. Shame flooded her. She'd responded like his pet dog.
Slowly she straightened and turned, tensed for the next show of his authority over her. Her eyes flickered toward the door, back to the babies, and then to him.
"Leave the babies and come here." She did not want to go one step nearer to Grady Hawks. Whatever tentative thoughts she'd had about trusting him fled her mind.
Men in general were dangerous, but she'd found that men in groups were more deadly than a pack of wolves. Whatever her husband had planned for her, there was no help to be found among the men at the table.
Her stomach lurched, and the food she'd enjoyed earlier threatened to return. She met his gaze and clenched her jaw as she walked toward him, obeying.
Jewel watched him evaluate her physical conformation as though she was an animal he checked for flaws.
When she stood beside his place at the end of the table, he turned on his seat and pulled her to stand between his thighs. Here it comes. She'd expected him to handle her in front of the men, if not worse. But that didn't make accepting his touch easy. She stood tensed, waiting.
"This is Julie Fulton Hawks. She'll give me the son that we need to secure our claim to Hawks Nest. Give her the respect due my woman."
Give her the respect due my woman? She stared at the wall, refusing to react as his hands fumbled at her hair. One by one, he pulled the pins from the bright auburn mass, and they all watched as it tumbled in shining waves to her hips. Jewel shifted her stance between his thighs, preparing to pick up her pins and leave. Instead, she froze as she inadvertently brushed against the bulge that swelled along his leg.
But he ignored the contact and said prosaically, "If you keep serving up the bread that way, we'll run out before the next trip to town."
Startled, she looked at the remaining crumbs on the plate. It hadn't occurred to her that he bought the loaves, but of course, there was no one here to bake.
He called her thoughts back to him, when he tugged on her hair.
"Leave it down from now on." He'd wound his hand through its length and showed it to the other men. "Red," he growled. "She'll breed true."
Of all the arrogant … She couldn't disguise her anger and forgot her fear.
He dropped the length of hair and turned away, dismissing her with a shrug. As Jewel began to gather her pins, he covered her hand and murmured without looking at her, "Leave them."
She hesitated. They were plain wooden hairpins, but they were all that she owned.
She couldn't decide whether the battle was worth the effort. Without them, her possessions could be counted on less than ten fingers.
"I don't have a proper comb," she murmured, eyes downcast, testing to see if there would be punishment for backtalk. She was tense, ready to spring away if need be.
But he said nothing, nor indicated that he'd even heard. His hand lay still, covering hers, until she withdrew her fingers—empty. She fiercely resented his victory as she moved to carry the cradle from the room.
Silently, he crossed the floor and stood beside her before she could leave. She hunched defensively, preparing for the slap that didn't happen. Instead, he took the cradle and set the babies back by the fire, saying, "Too cold back there."
Jewel stood nonplussed as he returned to resume his meal. It was too much. She looked wildly at the table of men, desperately trying to keep from screaming at him.
What do you expect me to do? Stand here and wait for your commands?
No further orders were issued, though, leaving her to make the next move. She cast a scathing look toward the men in the room and pulled the heavy bench so that she faced the fire. Then she sat with her back to them with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she lifted each twin for her morning meal.
As always, feeding them soothed her anxieties. She focused on the tiny hands that clutched her breast as first Emma fed, and then Amy. This is what I was made for—this is my purpose. She ignored the rancher who owned her for a year and already tried to dominate her.
Humming softly as they fed, she rocked her body until the twins blinked into sleep.
When she laid each into the new bed and tucked the rough blanket around them, she became aware again of the men behind her, evidently listening to her because they weren't speaking to each other.
A year … I can do anything for a year. Jewel squared her shoulders and went out the cabin door, leaving the babies for his tending. It didn't occur to her until later that she already trusted Grady Hawks to protect her children. Once outside, the brisk fresh air worked wonders on her spirit. She trudged around the house to the back, inspecting the building that would be home to her and the twins for a small time.
Logs already chopped gave her a purpose. She stacked a bundle in her arms, remembering occasions on the farm when she'd done likewise. The skirt of her borrowed dress was too long and caused her to stumble every third step, so she gathered it high and used it to carry the wood inside.
When she fumbled the door open and carried the logs to pile them next to the fireplace, her long hair swung over her shoulder and tendrils caught on the rough wood.
She didn't even hear his approach before he reached across her shoulder, untangled the snarl, and pulled all her hair back, tying it at the nape of her neck with a leather strip.
"Can I borrow your knife a minute?" she asked him. He frowned at her, but unsheathed the weapon that had killed Frank and handed it over.
In one quick motion she flipped the long tail of hair over her shoulder and hacked it off.
"Here." She handed him the knife and the hank of hair. "You like it so much. You take care of it."
His eyes darkened and became slits of anger, but without a word, he stuffed the hair into his pocket and turned away. The other men were leaving, and he shrugged into his coat, silently following.
* * * *
"Well, howdy-do, good-day-to-you, and say what…" she murmured into the emptiness left by their parting. Ruefully she brushed the ragged ends of her hair that now touched her shoulders instead of hanging down her back.
"I don't believe he's much of a conversationalist, girls." Jewel was pleased with herself for winning that hand. She turned her attentions back to the babies who were awake and cooing from their cradle.
"Pretty fancy bed you've got there, ladies," she rattled on, covering one topic after another, using her daughters for both company and an audience as she worked in the main room of his house. It was clean, a little dusty, but not the clutter and filth that she and Frank had once shared.
Jewel shuddered, shying away from thoughts of before. She'd learned a long time ago that she couldn't change the past and made it a point to forget most of it. Until she'd given birth to the twins, she'd not seen a future for herself, either.
She looked at them tenderly. She'd been so scared, the whole time she was carrying.
Jewel was glad her fear hadn't marked them somehow. Instead, every time she looked at Emma and Amy, she was surprised anew. "You are the best thing that ever happened in my life," she assured them as she peeled potatoes for a stew.
Remembering his caution about serving too much bread, she took the ground cornmeal she found, made sure it was clear of weevils and made a batch of johnnycake.
Once the mix of meat and cut-up turnips and potatoes was set to simmer on the cookstove, she put another pan of water on to heat and dragged the tub she'd located out next to the fire.
When she had the water ready, she bathed first one twin, then the other, laying them out on the sprea
d blanket so they could kick and fuss in the warm air while she washed the nightgown of each.
"I think we need clothes, ladies. What do you think, Emerald?" Jewel liked to pretend that the girls understood her and frequently answered for them.
"You say I need a dress too? Well, that's not likely in the near future, little girl. But, I do have a suggestion about what you and Amethyst can wear while your nightgowns are drying."
Before she could change her mind, Jewel went to the first bedroom off the hallway where she'd seen a stack of clothes earlier. Glad that she'd gone snooping, she borrowed two of the three shirts she found.
The girls were five months old and growing. They were both scooting and moving on their bellies whenever Jewel let them try. The shack they'd lived in after she'd fled Frank had been infested with vermin, and she'd spent the nights sleeping with the babies next to her and carrying them around with her during the day, so they'd not been free to practice.
Jewel had guarded the babies from the minute they were born. She'd refused to return to the saloon and gambling tables, and as soon as she got the chance after leaving the birthing bed, she'd taken Frank's stash of poker money and run.
She'd been right to be afraid. Jewel shivered remembering the past violence of more than one man.
"Let's not think about that, Emerald." She squinted her eyes at the baby and buttoned her into one of Grady Hawks' shirts. "Mister High-and-Mighty is rich. He's got enough shirts to share with us for a minute or two."
She carried the clothed babies back to the kitchen and stripped off her clothes, hurrying through her own bath, all the while straining to hear the sound of approaching horses as she lathered and rinsed, washed her ragged hair, and every now and again, playfully sprinkled water on the girls who giggled and watched from their new bed. "You look fine, like young society ladies," she assured them as they watched her from the cradle, propped there like two dolls at different ends.
