Breed True by Gem Sivad

the same time.
    But intentional or not, Julie's cooking offered them solace with the uncommon smell and taste of a hot meal that had been waiting at the end of a hard day's work.
    They all understood that it was better to get their talking done while the woman stranger was out of the room. But they scraped the last drop of stew from their plates and enjoyed the cornbread she'd baked to feed them. Trusted or not, the woman had already brought welcome change to his home.
    Without the ranch fortress, most of the people on Hawks Nest land had no place to go, no home. Over the years, the elder Hawks brothers had built the ranch with the help of their Kiowa in-laws. They'd made it known that any man, red or white, who earned his keep with work would be welcomed on the spread.
    When the Apaches were herded to San Carlos, many escaped and found their way to Hawks Nest, becoming part of the crew that worked the high country, drifting undetected among the cows and drovers.
    As soon as the door closed, Rowdy spoke around the stew in his mouth. "Got the new drovers rounding up strays in the high country. Told 'em to hold the cattle in that box canyon and use what they needed."
    "There are women and children with some of 'em, Grady. I don't know how that's gonna play out."
    Grady's cousin, Dan Two-Horse, stared at the table grimly and repeated his position in an ongoing disagreement. "A man has the right to have his family with him."
    The goal to separate the Indians from their lands had gained momentum and was largely aided and sanctioned by the government.
    In late summer, the Apaches who had refused to be imprisoned on reservations had begun to drift in, finding sanctuary and jobs on Hawks Nest land before moving on. In turn, they protected the borders fiercely, all the while remaining invisible to the neighboring white ranchers.
    Now Alan Michaels and his band of land-grabbing agents had focused on owning the property that offered life to hundreds of refugees. There was more scrutiny of the property than Grady was easy with. At first, he'd had been firm. No women or children.
    The Indian men could hide in open sight, mixed in with the Hawks Nest crew. The women were not so easy to conceal.
    "It was a practical rule," Grady began stating his position again, but Dan broke in and finished for him.
    "…To a solitary man who has no woman to miss, maybe. Now that you have a woman of your own, you'll understand the way it is." It was commonly held that Grady Hawks was as hard as stone. Since his father had been killed, Grady remained aloof from the others on the ranch.
    But Dan Two-Horse had argued from the beginning that the Indians riding for the Hawks Nest brand earned the same rights as white cowpunchers. Those men had cabins built for their families when needed. It was a moot point, since white drovers were rarely hired to work on Hawks Nest land. Dan argued that the common benefits offered to whites should be provided for the Indian drovers who came to the ranch and herded cattle.
    But now, sanctioned or not, the Indian women were coming, driven from their homes by white men's expansion. Children were inevitable.
    Christ, it's a mess churning into worse. Grady didn't have to look across the room to know that his own woman had reentered. The men had stopped talking.
    The twins she carried, one on each hip, were evidence of her fertility. He'd never enjoyed the game of poker when he and his dad had played, but this was one gamble he was betting would pay off. His cock swelled, assuring him that it would be a willing participant.
    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