Breed True

by Gem Sivad

  "He made a bargain with your grandfather and got you. It was enough for him." Her husky voice said the words his father had spoken many times, and he knew they were true.

  They sat, learning each other in their mutual silence. Outside, the wind picked up, drying out the land that had been bogged down in rains. When daylight shone through the windows, the sun had already cut a path through the clouds and pointed the way to a clear, warm day.

  He dressed and readied to go back to the work site, and she looked at the baked goods she'd made the day before. "I guess I went stall-crazy cooped up in this cabin in the rain."

  "Can you put that stuff into a basket, or a couple of baskets?" It was a question asked as he went through the door, anxious to get a head start on the day as usual.

  She was wearing her pink Mercantile dress when he came back inside. It should have clashed with her hair, but instead, she was beautiful.

  "Get the girls dressed in something warm. We'll take these supplies up to camp and you can see my Herefords."

  And he realized that he really wanted her to see the young bull his dad had imported.

  Henry had been sure that this new breed would change the way of cattle ranching on Hawks Nest.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emma and Amy were ecstatic to be outside. Grady drove, with his horse tied on behind. "Now pay attention," he warned her. "You might have to drive up to the line shack for me someday. Learn the way."

  Julie took comfort in his words instead of being offended. She and the girls had a home here. They were safe. In her heart she'd accepted him. He called the passion from her, cherished her daughters, and asked only one thing in return—a son. Why her stomach clenched in protest made no sense.

  But it happened anyway, and she couldn't get past it. He says he cares for me. I have feelings for him too. That should be enough for a good marriage. The real question remained unanswered. Would he still care for her if she gave him no son? Unbidden the memory of Comfort Quince's barren state came to mind.

  I can give Grady a son. She admitted the truth to herself. She didn't want to have another child. The memory of her first time was too fresh in her mind. After months of fear, pain, and finally abandonment, she'd survived. She knew in her heart that Grady Hawks would take care of her, but her head didn't trust what her heart told her.

  "You're not paying attention." He was back to being his autocratic self, so she wrinkled her nose at him, and he responded by pulling her closer under the arm he had slung around her shoulders. The girls sat on a thick blanket in the back of the wagon, tied in place so they couldn't crawl out.

  They were as excited about the trip as she was. It took a good while to get to the camp. Once there, Rowdy was first at the wagon, followed by Dan, and then Navajo.

  "Took you long enough," Rowdy complained. "Something wrong down at the cabin?"

  But then he seemed to notice the arm still slung around Julie's shoulders, and he swallowed whatever he'd planned to say next.

  Dan had already untied the girls, who had climbed happily into his arms to be carried.

  "I baked some apple cobbler and pecan pies yesterday. Grady thought I might like to bring them and see where he works."

  But her words were spoken to their backs, as Navajo grabbed one box of food and Rowdy grabbed the basket.

  Grady jumped down and lifted her to the ground. "Some things don't ever change,"

  she grumbled, but her complaint was delivered with a smile.

  He untied his horse from behind the wagon, mounted, and then leaned down and scooped her up in front of him.

  "What are you doing," she gasped, but he just pulled her tighter in his arms and trotted up to where Dan held the girls.

  "I'm taking Julie to meet Pretty Boy. You'll be all right with the girls for a while, right?"

  The horse whisperer grinned and hefted each girl higher in his arms while they giggled. "Glad to see you two came to terms. We'll be fine—for awhile," and he winked at her.

  Grady didn't wait, but set his horse into a lope, making Julie throw her arms around his waist and bury her face in his chest.

  "I like the way that feels, sweetheart." His laugh rumbled under her cheek. She could feel his heart beating a solid thump against her ear.

  It occurred to her that she had heard him laugh more in the last twenty-four hours than in the entire rest of the six months that she'd lived with him. He pulled up abruptly, throwing her even closer to his body.

  "You can look up now." He nuzzled her collar away from her neck, and then nipped the bared flesh there.

  She sat up straight, her rump cushioned by his thighs and the swell of his arousal.

  Julie tried not to smile.

  "Meet Pretty Boy," Grady growled.

  Julie looked down at the red-colored animals browsing in the feedlot below. Grady put his two fingers to his mouth and emitted an earsplitting whistle.

  One red head came up, as a fierce-looking bull trotted to the edge of the corral and stood, nostrils distended scenting the air. Then he pawed the dirt, lifted his head, and blew through his nostrils, as he issued his challenge.

  "That's Pretty Boy, brought all the way from New Hampshire by my father. I'm carrying on his breeding plans. There's a fellow in Kansas who's been developing a strain of polled Herefords…"

  As Julie listened Grady waxed enthusiastically about the merits of the red-coated beasts below. "It'll change ranching for sure. But, I think my father was right. We had a tough winter this year, but these guys just tailed the wind. "

  At her questioning look, he explained, "They get in a huddle and protect each other.

  Long horns don't do that. Even if they didn't lock horns, they're too contrary. Dad saw this breed when he was a boy in the old country. He said they were hardy stock, and he was right."

  "The Old Country?" It was odd hearing a man who looked so much a part of this land, speak of a faraway place as if he knew it.

  "Scotland," and then he grinned. "I'm Scots-Kiowa, a mix of the two mightiest warrior peoples God put on earth." It was a glimpse of him she'd not seen before. Pride in both of his heritages shown from him. His features mimicked those of the woman who had abandoned him, but his father's blood filled his veins.

  "You miss your father a lot, don't you?" Julie leaned into his arms and watched his eyes crinkle as his smile turned to her.

  "He was a tough hombre, there's no denying that, but he wasn't any harder on others than he was on himself." He sighed and hugged her. "Hell, yeah, I miss him. And now that I know who the sonovabitch was who killed him, I aim to make Dad rest a little easier from wherever he's watching."

  "What will you do?" The spring wind shifted and swirled around them, and despite the arms that held her close, Julie shivered.

  *

  What will you do? Grady wanted to ride into Eclipse and kill the bastard. His rage grew hotter as he mulled over his next move.

  Cutting Michaels down on the town's main street would convince the townspeople that Grady was a savage. Ironically, with Michaels' death, it would give the Eastern Consortium ammunition in their land-takeover scheme.

  But he didn't like the idea of Julie bearing witness against the murderer, either. First of all, she hadn't seen the shot fired. She had Frank's eyewitness account, but the gambler was dead.

  Second, she had been the partner of a con man who had included her in acts during their marriage that didn't bear scrutiny. By the time Teddy James finished blackening her character, the town would be ready to lynch Julie and give Alan Michaels the reward for capturing Henry Hawks' murderer.

  "I don't know yet what's to be done," Grady told her. "But I know I'd like to find a place to make love to you again."

  He meant it. The bite of anger fueled unreasonable lust on his part, and he wanted to be inside of her, to feel her heat.

  The horse fidgeted under them, sidestepping as Grady's emotions fueled the animal's nervous dance. "Will you lift your skirts for me, if I find us a place t
o be private for a minute?"

  He was already scanning the terrain for a trysting place and nudged his horse into a lope before she could reply.

  When he pulled up short, in a copse of cottonwood trees, she looked at him wryly, "I take it you didn't really want an answer."

  He slid down and lifted her after him, leaning into her and pressing her against the animal's withers.

  The kiss stopped her protests and turned molten. He fumbled with the buttons down the back of her dress. "I need this off," he growled, "I need to feel your skin on mine."

  Their coupling was not the tender joining of the night before. "I need you now." He shoved her dress roughly to the ground and lifted her to wrap her long limbs around his waist.

  "Hold on." He balanced her against a cottonwood, pulling his shirt over his head to make a cushion between her and the rough bark.

  "Now," he groaned as he seated himself deep inside of her and felt her internal muscles clench and squeeze his cock.

  Her nails scored his back as he called fire from her, swallowing her passionate cries as she grew more aroused and demanding.

  After her first shuddering climax, he set her on the ground, her legs so weak she could barely stand.

  Turning her around, he pressed her hands to the tree for balance and tilted her hips, taking her from behind.

  "Don't let loose of the tree," he ordered her as he cupped her breasts and pleasured them even as he stroked his shaft in and out of her clenching sheath.

  Her panted, "Yes, yes, yes," was all the encouragement he needed. He dropped one hand to touch the nub at her apex and felt a second orgasm wash over her.

  Grady savored the feel of her as he thrust deeper, his cock massaged by her rippling internal grip. He groaned at the pleasure, holding back his release to prolong the glorious agony and ecstasy.

  He lowered her to the ground, his shirt again used to cushion her back, as he settled between her thighs, lifting her into his powerful lunges. "Come for me again. Give it to me," he demanded and felt the surge of her climax so strong this time that it forced his own.

  He held her in his arms while they both gasped for breath and tried to regain sanity that had flown away in the face of their passion. Finally, she moved restlessly in his embrace.

  "I think," Julie said dryly, "that Dan might want loose from the twins by now."

  Grady rubbed his face in her hair that was now a tangled mess around her shoulders and grinned.

  "Yes, Mama," he agreed, boldly calling her what the twins had been trying to say for days.

  He let the syllables of that name roll off his tongue, tasting the word he'd had no reason to call in his own life.

  He stood, adjusting the pants that he'd never lost in their encounter. "Guess I got carried away, huh?"

  He tried to make light of his loss of control, but the marks of his passion were on her neck and breasts, as she fumbled into her clothes.

  He studied her for signs of rebuff, but she wound her hair back into a sedate knot and turned for him to button her dress.

  "I think we both got carried away." She spoke softly, her blush evident as he closed the pink dress and buttoned it over her flushed skin.

  *

  Julie didn't want to think about their joining under the cottonwood trees, but her thoughts lingered there anyway. It had been startling, overwhelming, exhilarating…

  She looked at the man who had been her husband for six months—but all was different, now. Julie was uneasily aware of her complete vulnerability to him.

  When he'd been deep inside of her, she hadn't repelled him with her thoughts. She hadn't willed her body to remain barren. She was torn in two directions. Everything in her screamed, No!

  Grady Hawks still wanted a white child. He still lay with her to produce an acceptable offspring that would secure his hold on this land.

  And yet, the encounter under the cottonwood trees had been different. For her, it had been earth-shattering in the power that she had ceded to Grady Hawks. She knew that legally he was her husband, and by man's law, that made him her master.

  But until their violent coupling, he hadn't touched her spirit. Now, she felt undone—

  as though she had revealed her most private secret to a stranger.

  * * * *

  She and the girls stayed with the crew all day. By afternoon, Emma and Amy were thoroughly spoiled, grimy, and ready for their bed at home.

  "I'll ride back with you," Grady decided, swinging the girls high in the air, one at a time, as they giggled and grabbed at his hat. To their delight, he settled them into the back of the wagon, and climbed in beside them. "You drive, Mama. I want to make sure you know the way home."

  Julie looked at him, astonished. He leaned his back against the bench of the wagon and turned his attentions to the girls, ignoring her consternation.

  "But, I…" It seemed that he meant it. The horse looked around at her as if to say, Let's go, so she took up the reins and flicked them, slapping the animal on the rump, accompanied by a giddy-up she'd learned as a girl on the farm.

  The horse cooperated, eager to be back in the stall with a scoop of oats and a flake of hay.

  Gradually, the silence from behind her and the swaying motion of the wagon settled her anxieties.

  It wasn't much of a challenge finding the ranch buildings because the horse knew the way. But she diligently marked her passage, trying to see landmarks that she might need another day.

  She was of two minds as she dug herself even deeper into this life that made her tremble with doubt.

  I hate choices, she told herself. I don't want to make any decision that I might regret later. My whole life has been about disappointment and stupidity.

  She fingered the ring she'd taken. At the moment of its giving, nothing could have prevented her from reaching out to him. His loneliness had called to her in a way that his lust hadn't.

  He'd made her forget her plan to start over. He made her want things she didn't understand or trust. He calls me Mama. That, and his powerful lovemaking under the cottonwood trees, frightened her. He wraps himself around me in layers of need.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The weather held, warming the land and painting the barren landscape of winter with the flowers of spring. Grady made love to her every night, but the passion that they'd shared by the cottonwoods wasn't repeated.

  If he was disappointed, he didn't show it. The girls shared a giant baby bed that Grady had made for them. She teased him that it looked more like a pen for his livestock.

  But once she lined it with a thin mattress, it worked fine.

  The girls were almost a year old and were adventurous and daring in their explorations. At least when they were in the baby bed, they were confined, and she knew they were safe.

  She tried not to think about the time she had been married before, or the life that she had lived then, but it wasn't to be so.

  There was much talk at night at the table about the growing Indian rebellions farther west. The army had spent all summer rounding up the Apache tribes to quarter them at San Carlos on a reservation that was too small for their numbers and with too little food to sustain that many.

  Renegades escaped and were joined by those who had eluded original capture.

  Stories of Indian raids became common, although Julie suspected that the accounts were being exaggerated in Eclipse to make a case for the men who wanted to steal Hawks Nest.

  "Alan Michaels is behind this. He and that damned consortium of eastern investors he likes to talk about."

  It was Rowdy, offering his opinion at the table that brought Grady's disclosure. Julie hadn't realized he'd not told the others.

  "He killed my father." The words hung there in the air, all sound, including the snick of the cutlery against the plates, suddenly quieted.

  "You know this to be a fact?" It was Navajo Leonard who asked, but they waited for his nod.

  "Yes," he said flatly, but offered no explanation and none was req
uired.

  "When do we kill him?"

  Julie had never heard Navajo Leonard speak more than three or four words during her tenure in the cabin.

  "Can't kill the bastard now, it would just give the land grabbers an excuse to move on us."

  Anger and loathing filled Grady's voice, at the same time he declared Michaels off limits to the crew—for the moment anyway.

  * * * *

  They were in bed that night when Grady sat up, grabbed his gun, and rolled to his feet.

  "What is it?" She'd been dozing after their lovemaking, but not really asleep.

  "Someone's outside." He pulled on his clothes as he spoke.

  "Better get dressed," he told her, but she was already following his actions as she pulled her blue dress over her head.

  She didn't bother with shoes as she hurried to the crib to stand guard next to the babies.

  "Bar the door behind me." He had his rifle in hand and his gun belt on as he headed toward the outside door.

  Before he left, he veered to the mantle, over which hung a Winchester carbine.

  "This is lever action, sweetheart, so you don't have to do anything but point and shoot." He pulled the lever back and down and handed it to her. "Stay away from the windows. It might be a good idea to bring the girls in here with you till I get back from looking around."

  She barred the door behind him, carried the sleeping children into the main room of the ranch house, and made a bed for them in front of the fire.

  They continued to sleep, unaware of Julie's fear. It seemed to her that Grady was gone only a short time before he rapped on the door, calling, "Let me in now, Julie."

  When she opened for him, he stood surrounded by Indian braves. He stepped through the door, and they followed, filling the room with their presence.

  "Julie, do you have food you can get together quick?" Grady's expression was grim but not afraid when he took the carbine from her hands and motioned her toward the kitchen.

  He spoke in their language, and the Indians followed him down the hall and away from her. One stayed behind, sentry at the window as she fired up the stove and fried venison steaks in the skillet.