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people milled around them, carrying out their midmorning chores.
    This was Hawk's home, a quiet, peaceful world so far removed from the city that it might as well be on another planet.
    They passed a fenced-off gravel road that wound toward a large farmhouse perched on a hill, and Hawk nodded toward it. “That's Anderson's farm. They're our closest neighbors. Three of my stepmothers are Andersons.”
    She blinked. “So some of your brothers and sisters are also cousins?”
    “Sounds more fucked up than it is. I told you, the head wife keeps records on everyone's bloodlines.” He snorted. “Probably next to the ones they keep on the cows and horses. We're all good, hardy stock. Bred to be tough.”
    Jeni barely managed not to wrinkle her nose in disgust. “No romance. You weren't kidding.”
    “They don't have time for romance. It's a hard life. You work until you can't take another step, or you have babies until it kills you.”
    It cast the lush green land in a whole new light—a sickly pallor that raised goose bumps on Jeni's arms. “That's terrible.”
    “It's the reality. Eden's tithes are so high…” He exhaled roughly. “Shipp saved us from that. The smuggling runs make enough money to buy us some breathing room. But the only real hope is for Dallas to pull off this revolution.”
    It was easy to think of the fight against Eden in strict, direct terms now—if they didn't defeat the city, they'd all be crushed, or worse. But it had started because of the city slowly encroaching on the livelihood of the surrounding sectors. They always wanted more—more food, more energy, more of the resources sector-dwellers gave their time, effort, and sometimes blood to procure or produce.
    “Dallas will win,” she told Hawk confidently. “There's no other option I'm willing to consider.”
    “If anyone can pull it off, it's him.” Hawk shifted gears as they started up a curving hill. “Get ready. When we reach the top, you'll be able to see the farm.”
    What lay in the valley before them looked like the rest of the area, but with one difference that proved the truth of Hawk's words—smuggling had been very, very good to them. Besides the cars that clustered around a barn back beyond the main house, there were pieces of fairly modern equipment that Jeni hadn't seen at the other farms.
    Her jittery nerves had calmed a bit, soothed by the rough but velvet cadence of Hawk's voice. They returned now with a vengeance as people turned to watch their approach.
    “Steady,” he murmured, resting one hand on her leg. His palm was massive, large enough to engulf her knee, and his touch burned even through her clothes. “You're an O'Kane, honey. You eat backwoods farmers for breakfast.”
    He was teasing her, and she couldn't resist throwing it right back at him. “Just the ones I really like.”
    His fingers tightened, and his voice lowered. “You gonna eat me for breakfast, Jeni?”
    Even with the windows down, there was no air in the car. “Wouldn't dream of it,” she rasped. “I mean, you've got plans for me, right?”
    “Oh yeah.” He steered with one hand, guiding them down the hill as his thumb teased suggestive circles on the outside of her knee. “You have no idea.”
    Maybe this was what he'd been waiting for, what he needed. To get her on familiar territory, someplace where he was comfortable enough to open up in spite of the differences between them.
    She would have asked, but the front door of the main house opened, and a tall woman stepped out. Jeni had spent most of her life around powerful women, and there was no mistaking this one's posture or the air of command that surrounded her.
    Everything here was hers.
    Hawk coasted to a stop and parked the car. Then he was out the door before Jeni could say a word, circling to open the passenger side for her.
    He held out his hand to help her. She took it automatically, but all thoughts of letting go again vanished the moment his fingers wrapped around