Her grandson was exactly where he had been for the past hour.

Glued to the television set.

It usually irritated her.

For once, she was glad.

Her eyes returned to her son's face.

Her own was grim.

It mirrored the way she felt at having to be the one to give Graham the

news.

"Jake."

Graham stared at his mother.

He refused to allow the meaning behind her words to penetrate beyond a

certain point.

The very thought of what she was saying made the breath stagnate in his

lungs.

"Jake? What do you mean, Jake?"?

Neither his mother's expression nor her tone changed.

But he felt the undercurrent of sympathy nonetheless.

It was evident in tiny gestures-an inclination of her head, the set of

her shoulders.

She felt for him.

"Jake, your son. Celia wants custody of Jake."

He rose so quickly his chair toppled to the floor on its side.

"Did the lawyer leave a number?"

"Yes."

Graham already had the receiver in his hand, ready to dial.

"He said he was leaving the office at five."

He knew it was past that now, yet he glanced at his watch anyway.

Swearing, Graham replaced the receiver.

, No sense getting himself worked up now.

There would be time enough for that in the morning.

The set of his mouth was grim as he picked up the chair and righted

it.

"She can't have him."

Lily knew how much the boy meant to him; how much, though she had

resisted, Jake had come to mean to her.

"We could go back to the reservations" That had been her solution the

last time, when her own marriage had crumbled before her eyes, injuring her young pride. She had returned with her small son, seeking the solace that familiarity afforded.

It hadn't given him the same sustenance.

"You think they wouldn't find us on the reservation?"

It would be the first place they would look.

The branches of her family spread over great distances.

"In Utah."

He shook his head.

He wasn't about to go into hiding, always looking over his shoulder.

Always waiting for someone to catch up to him and Jake.

There was a measure of that element in his job now; he wasn't about to

go through that as a father.

"I'm fighting this, Ma, right here. On my own grounds."

She shrugged.

"As you will."

Graham scrubbed his hands over his face.

God, but he was tired, tired of fighting for everything he wanted.

Tired of his ex-wife's vacillation.

First she wanted to be a mother, then she didn't.

Now she wanted to again.

Couldn't she make up her mind?

He had married Celia because she had told him she was pregnant with his

child.

Honor had been Very important to him, especially at that time.

The wounds that Caitlin had left had just begun to heal.

So he had given Celia his name and awaited the child with mixed

feelings.

Celia had miscarried in her fifth month.

The complications that followed had robbed her of the ability to ever

conceive again.

She'd been so distraught, he'd feared for her sanity.

The prospect of emptiness had taken on monumental proportions for her and she'd begged him to agree to an adoption.

He hadn't wanted to.

There was something within him that had resisted the idea of taking in another man's child.

But she had pleaded and cried.

In the end, he had agreed to adopt a half-Navajo baby.

A half-breed, he had mused, like himself.

It was the best thing he had ever done.

Jake represented the very best part of him.

He loved the boy the way he couldn't allow himself to love anyone

else.

Without reservations.

And now she wanted to take him away.

His hand closed over the back of the wooden chair, tightening until his