A Mating of Hawks by Jeanne Williams

lawyer. His words brought back that moment of helpless dread when she’d been choked past consciousness, and her voice flamed with outrage.
    â€œOf course I think people should defend themselves! But it’d help more to try to get at causes.” Like not releasing a dangerous psychotic with his own little supply of downers. Or perpetuating poverty, hopelessness, racist injustice and a system that turned prisons into costly grad schools for crime rather than supplying job training and opportunities before people went wrong.
    Judd ignored her proviso. “Then I’m doing something I think you’d be mighty interested in. It would at least give you a good feature.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI’d rather show you.” His smile lingered on her mouth, traced the curve of her shoulders and breasts, making a sort of sweet warmth tingle through her. “There’s a moon. Care for a stroll?”
    She did, but a flash of Shea’s mocking face cooled the magnetism surging between her and the man across the table. Easy , she warned herself. Don’t start something you aren’t ready to finish .
    An involvement with either of her cousins was the last thing she needed, at least till she knew them better, felt herself able to handle what might follow. Not that Shea showed any sign of liking her! Still, she couldn’t have mistaken that elemental attraction that had coursed between them.
    â€œThanks,” she told Judd. “But I’m going up to Patrick for a while.”
    He shrugged, rose to pull out Vashti’s chair before he did the same for Tracy’s. His hands touched the back of her arms and as she rose he whispered in her ear, “Thank you , cousin, for wanting to come.” Aloud, he said, “When I get back from Phoenix, I’ll take you around the ranch. But you’ll have to wait a couple of weeks for your big story.”
    â€œJudd,” cut in Vashti, in the flattering light seeming at least as young as his thirty-eight years. “Will you come to my study a moment? I’ve some matters you might attend to up in Phoenix.”
    He looked slightly annoyed but nodded carelessly and stepped back to let the women precede him through the door. Then he followed Vashti down the sconce-lit hall while Tracy caught up her skirt and ran upstairs.
    The moon spilled through the window, making a light unnecessary. Patrick lay so still that Tracy thought him asleep till half his mouth curved in that devastating way and he spoke her name.
    â€œCan I get you anything?” she asked, placing her hand over his.
    â€œNo, honey. And I don’t want to talk. But I’d sure like for you to just stay with me, quiet for a while.”
    Her eyes stung. How it must torment his imperious spirit to have this failure of body added to that of his sight! His sons’ quarrel must weigh on him almost as much as not being able to judge for himself what was best for the ranch and take an active part, for Patrick had always worked right beside his men, been an expert rider and roper.
    In the moonlight, she noticed lying beside his pillow the rawhide reata that he’d clung to long after nylon ropes replaced hand-plaited ones. It smelled of horses and sweat.
    Sitting down by this man who’d lulled her childhood fears and griefs against his broad chest as tenderly as any woman could have, Tracy held his hand. At last, quietly, she let her tears fall.
    Judd looked both ways before, without rapping, he entered Vashti’s room. A triple mirror reflected her in a blur of multiple images, lace-covered breasts and luminous hair, as she whirled toward him. She screwed the lid on an alabaster jar with fingers that shook. He was amused at her discomfiture, caught with her face off, the way she tried to cover it with a provocative pout.
    â€œDarling, you could knock!”
    He shrugged. “You wanted to see me. I’m not going to stand around in the hall and let