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moved her twin daughters to Flat Rock, a town on the other side of the county and made plans to get away from Texas and move to a better place.
    Although she initially had been humiliated by the work of a laundress, success had changed her mind after she'd taken care of herself and the twins for five months. I'll hold my nose and wash Old Man Tate's socks with a smile if I can just get back to my work.
    The dark outside told her more than the clock on the wall chiming eleven. I need to get to Ma's place. She assessed the distance to the door, ready to dart there the moment a path opened. She trembled from both anticipation and cold.
    Suddenly, Grady Hawks dealt himself into the game. He picked up his coat, and before she could protest or step away, put it around her shoulders. She jerked, as his hand possessively smoothed it over her back.
    She couldn't tell whether he was emphasizing ownership of it or interest in her, but her head went up, and she readied for a fight. Cold or not, she didn't want anything to do with these people. For a moment her eyes locked with his in combat. Leave me alone, she screamed at him silently.
    She was surrounded by people ready to tear her life apart. She knew what the Quinces had in mind, but she still didn't know what the Indian wanted. She was pretty sure, though, that Frank's death had little or nothing to do with this gathering.
    "Ma'am." She reacted to the low timbre of his voice, shivering as much from the tone as from the cold in the room. When she stepped from under his hand, and as politely as possible under the circumstances, gave the duster back, he said, "I've sent three trusted friends to fetch your daughters. You can rest easy."
    Panic and hope blossomed. If the girls were away from Ma Siler, that was a good thing. "How do you know where Emma and Amy are if you didn't have anything to do with Frank's killing?"
    He stared at her hard from those granite gray eyes and ignored her words. She clenched her hands, digging her nails into her flesh instead of his, to remind herself that this man hadn't shown any of his cards yet.
    These people would do what they wanted with her, she already understood that they intended for her to have no rights inside this room but for the ones they granted to her.
    But this stranger offered to get her children away from Ma Siler, and that moved him from enemy to neutral. She met his stare and muttered fiercely, "What is it you want, Mr.
    Hawks? Nothing comes free."
    Jewel let her gaze slide across the room, assessing the members of the group for weakness or hesitation that she could use to her advantage. The others were grim-faced, showing no give.
    Hamilton Quince answered her. "Mrs. Rossiter. Let me explain. Mr. Hawks finds himself at the mercy of Texas expansion. Since his father, Henry Hawks, is gone, there are those who seek to separate his heir, and others who have Indian blood, from land that they rightfully own."
    She shivered and folded her arms. Word of Henry Hawks' robbery and murder had reached all the way to the territory when it had happened. So this is his son.
    Jewel kept her back to the opening, ready to leave the moment an opportunity presented itself. But, meanwhile the cold that seeped under the front door found its way into the drawing room, and the draft intensified her chill. When she spoke, her voice was sharp with impatience and the need to quit the Indian's presence.
    "Yes, well, I live in a one-room shack that I don't own, and if I don't pay the price for it, someone will throw me out. I don't have it in me to feel your concern."
    She ignored Grady Hawks when he moved behind her. It was more important at the moment to keep Comfort and Hamilton Quince in her sights. "You and your brother own enough land to keep both of you busy, and Mr. Hawks' business doesn't concern me."
    Hamilton explained, "Hawks Nest Ranch has something more valuable than grazing area. The largest spring-fed lake in these parts lies beyond Double-Q borders