The Cowboy's Twins (11 page)

“On the highway on his way home, a car in front of him blew out a tire and went headlong into a tree. Jax immediately pulled to the side of the road and called 911, then rushed to see if he could help. You know Jax. He's not the kind of man to stand around and do nothing.”

That sounded exactly like the Jax Faith knew.

“The driver had hit her head and was barely conscious, so he wrapped his jacket around his arm and broke a window out and then dragged the woman and her six-year-old son to safety.”

Faith gasped, then frowned in confusion. The jagged scar on his face might possibly have been caused by a sharp piece of glass, but his shoulder told another story.

“What happened to his arm? That doesn't look like an injury consistent with a wound caused by sharp glass. I'd have guessed it was a burn scar.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You're right—it is from a burn. I have to say, I'm surprised he showed you his arm. It's one of his big secrets.”

She sniffed. “Oh, believe me, he didn't want me to see it. I kind of forced the issue. Fuego took a bite out of his shoulder, and I insisted that I be the one to patch him up, since it was my fault it happened.”

“Still...” Alice stopped her rhythmic patting on Violet's back and tilted her head, analyzing Faith. “He's very sensitive about that scar.”

“It doesn't bother me. Honestly. But I'm curious. How'd he get burned?”

“The car was on fire when he went to rescue the woman and her child. He went back to make sure there weren't any other people left in the car. The driver had been dazed and kept saying something about her baby—turned out later that she meant the six-year-old, but Jax believed another child might still be caught in the wreck.”

“There wasn't, I hope.”

“No. But the engine exploded before Jax could clear away. The car rolled with him in it. He was badly burned and had to have skin grafts on his shoulder. And he lost most of the hearing in his left ear, you know.”

Faith hoped Alice didn't hear her gasp. Jax was deaf in one ear. That explained a lot. “Praise God he's still alive to tell the story.”

“Indeed.”

Faith reached out to squeeze Alice's hand. The poor woman had been through so much recently. First she had lost her husband, and then the near death of her son so soon afterward. What a nightmare. It certainly put Faith's meager problems in perspective.

“Come on, boy.” Jax's deep, lyrical voice reached Faith's ears, and she turned to watch him. “Get up, now. Show me what you're made of.”

“He rescued those people. He's a hero,” she whispered.

Alice nodded. “Everyone thinks so but him.”

“I don't understand. He threw himself in harm's way for people he didn't even know. In my book that makes him a Good Samaritan, and he has the scars to prove it. How could he think any differently?”

“He hates those scars.”

“But—why?” It wasn't even that she respected the scars now that she knew the story behind the wounds, that he had been performing an act of mercy when he received them. Even before she'd known what caused them, the scars hadn't bothered her. Particularly that jagged scar on his temple. Hadn't anyone ever told him it gave him a rugged, bad-boy appearance? Women ate up the tough-guy image. She had to believe she was not the only one who thought Jax McKenna was a good-looking man.

Alice snorted. “In a word—Susie. She completely shattered his self-image. On the day the doctor removed his bandages, she took one look at Jax and walked out of his life. Poof. She was gone. He came home from the hospital to an empty house. Susie had cleaned out her drawers and taken most everything of value. Divorce papers followed a week later.”

“A
week
?” Faith was aghast.

“Right? If you ask me, those divorce papers were in the works well before the accident happened.”

“Clearly.”

“But Jax doesn't see it. To him, his scars ruined his marriage. He looks in the mirror and he sees himself as a monster. So he hides himself away at the ranch, trying to make the outside world go away. As if it ever does.” She sighed and paused to deposit a now-sleeping Violet into her car seat.

Rose was still fussing, so Faith continued to rock her, receiving as much comfort from the rhythmic motion as she was giving to the baby.

“He rarely goes into town for any reason other than to attend church, and even then he never stays to socialize. The Bachelors and Baskets auction was actually the first community event he's attended since his injury.”

That was odd. “Pardon me for saying so, Alice, but why did he choose that one? If he doesn't like being on display, putting himself up on an auction block for everyone to see would be his worst nightmare.”

“Believe me—it was. At least until you stepped up with the winning bid and rescued him out of his misery. He was your first official wild rescue.” Alice smiled at her joke but quickly sobered. “You see, his father passed away in a hospice in San Antonio. He needed round-the-clock care and there simply wasn't a closer facility. The boys took turns driving me back and forth to see Jenson, and it was hard on all of us. Nick missed his father's passing, and he's never forgiven himself for that. Jax and Slade were there, but that didn't make it easier for either one of them. If there had been a hospice here in Serendipity—well, that would have changed everything.”

Faith nodded.

“So you see, Jax would do anything for the cause—even put himself on display.”

“That was very brave of him. I can't even begin to imagine the pure torture he must have been feeling, standing up there on that grandstand. He probably thought everyone was looking at his scar.”

“Interesting how our perspective changes based on where we are sitting, isn't it? Now that I think about it, I suppose I've done the same thing I've accused Jax of doing. After Jenson died, I retreated to the ranch because of my broken heart.”

“That's understandable, Alice,” Faith assured her. “Everyone grieves differently.”

Different perspectives.

Faith had grieved by running away to the country and hiding out among her mustangs.

“Well, the twins have certainly shaken things up around here.” Alice laughed, a clear, happy sound that made Faith smile.

“That's one way of looking at it. Your family's whole worldview has shifted. But from what I've seen, Jax is handling it tremendously well. He's definitely daddy material. Those girls are blessed to have him, and anyone can tell how much he loves them.”

“I can't say I mind spoiling these two little sweethearts myself. They make my heart sing. The way all this came down on us was definitely less than ideal, but in this case it's the end result that matters. Rose and Violet have a family who loves them. Jax will give them a good, stable Christian home. All of us will.”

Faith sighed inwardly. If only every child was so blessed as to have a man like Jax for a father. Her own dad had been more interested in climbing the corporate ladder than in praying with his only daughter before she climbed into bed for the night.

“When Jax finishes gentling Fuego, we'll have to have a party to celebrate,” Alice announced, with so much excitement in her tone that Faith knew she wasn't going to turn Jax's mom down, whatever she offered. “Dinner at my house. We'll raise a toast to Jax for his labor, but you and I both know it will be for much more than that. We'll be celebrating his courage and his future with his two beautiful daughters.”

Alice looked as if she was about to say more, but then she abruptly closed her mouth and shook her head.

“You'll come, won't you?” she asked after an extended pause.

“Yes, of course.” Faith tried to smile but it felt shaky at best.

She would show up and do her best to look happy, but she wouldn't be celebrating the end of Jax's work with Fuego—she'd be grieving the loss of his friendship.

Because she couldn't continue to be friends with Jax McKenna. Not without getting her heart woven up with him and the twins. And that was something she simply could not allow herself to do.

The party had given her an extension—a few more days to spend with Jax, assuming he continued to show up at her ranch—but she wouldn't let herself think beyond that.

“Look there,” Alice said, nodding toward the corral. “This is what he's been waiting for. Watch.”

Jax slowed Fuego's pace and then turned his back on the horse. He stood stock-still in the middle of the corral, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and a confident, expectant look on his face.

Faith held her breath. She had no idea what would happen next, but she instinctively knew it would be beautiful, a moment to savor.

Fuego snorted and threw his head, stepping toward Jax and then bucking and backing up again, turning indecisively in a tight circle.

Still, Jax did not move.

“Come on, Fuego,” Alice whispered, leaning forward in her chair.

Tentatively, the stallion started back toward Jax, and this time he did not startle or turn away. He stopped just behind Jax and sniffed at his neck and shoulder, nickering as if accepting the man's scent as trustworthy.

“That's my boy,” Jax murmured, turning with a slow, even motion and running a reassuring hand down the horse's muzzle. “See now? Everything is okay.”

He continued to stroke Fuego's head and neck, speaking in the lyrical voice that mesmerized horses and humans alike, as butterflies fluttered through her stomach.

Amazing.

Jax was simply amazing.

Faith's heart welled. His patience with the wild stallion had paid off in spades. Without so much as a halter, Fuego willingly followed Jax to the gate that emptied out into the front meadow, nickering when Jax opened it.

“Go on now, boy,” Jax said, running his hand down the horse's neck one last time. “Your band is waiting for you.”

What Faith had just witnessed was beyond anything she could have imagined when she had first conceived of rescuing horses. Jax had opened a whole new world to her.

She wanted to thank him but knew he'd act as if what he'd done was just another day's work. He strode up to the porch two steps at a time and took Rose in his arms, nuzzling her neck and making her pump her arms and gurgle in delight.

“Fuego will be approachable now.” He smiled, and for once Faith didn't see a shadow of pain in his eyes.

“Amazing.” Faith could find her voice for only the one word. She had a hundred words in her head, but they were all verses of the same song.

“That's my son,” Alice agreed, a proud smile splitting her face. “Absolutely amazing. It looks like we're going to have that celebratory dinner sooner than we expected.”

Jax's eyebrow rose. “What are we celebrating, or do I want to know?”

Alice flashed a wink at Faith and smiled at Jax. “Why, you, of course.”

Chapter Six

A
mazing.

If Jax heard that word one more time, he was going to knock his head against a wall. The day he'd finished Fuego, Faith had repeated the compliment at least five times that he'd counted.

Every day for the rest of the week he'd been working at her ranch, and he'd heard it over and over again.

Amazing, amazing, amazing.

Good grief. The woman couldn't get over it.

His mom was not helping. She had come through on her threat to throw a celebratory dinner over the weekend. He suspected it was more for Faith than it was for him, though his mom said otherwise. He had a close family, but they didn't get together every time one of them did something worthwhile.

He hated the thought that he was going to end up the focus of the evening. It made him itchy all over to think about what fun his brothers were going to have with all this. He'd never hear the end of it. And on top of their teasing, he still had to deal with Faith's praise.

All he'd done was gentle her stallion. She was acting as if he'd flown her to the moon and back.

He smiled. He had to admit she was good for his ego. She seemed genuinely appreciative of the work he'd done around her ranch, especially with Fuego. That was probably part of the reason he kept going back. She asked a lot of questions, sometimes curious, always learning—so many queries that he would definitely have been annoyed by them if they'd come from anyone but her.

Faith was different.

Most telling of all, she didn't seem to be the least bit put off by his scarred body. After the afternoon she'd patched up his shoulder when Fuego bit him, she'd never mentioned his injuries again, and it hadn't changed their relationship at all. If anything, it had brought them closer.

Sometimes—sometimes—he thought he caught her staring, but it wasn't the way others gawked at him.

Her gaze was sweet. Tender. It made his gut feel all fluttery. He wondered...

His chest tightened. He was reading too much into a simple look. Faith wasn't good at shielding her emotions, which was good, because in general he was lousy at reading them. Even though she never talked about it, he knew she had her own issues from her past.

Could she get beyond them?

Could he?

No.

Those thoughts were leading him down a path he could not afford to tread, not only because Susie had trampled on his heart and left it in shreds by the roadside, but because his focus needed to remain entirely concentrated on raising his daughters.

On the other hand, it was true that Faith wasn't anything like Susie.

He trusted Faith implicitly. She would never belittle anyone for any reason. And she was a wonder with the twins. Sometimes he'd covertly watch her with one of the babies and wonder why she wasn't married with a family of her own. She obviously loved kids.

Maybe that was part of the grief she carried in her eyes. He wouldn't pry, but he hoped he'd proved she could count on his friendship. If she ever wanted to open up to him, he would listen.

Faith was the first guest to arrive at the house, bearing two pies that she promptly admitted she did not bake. Phoebe Hawkins at Cup O' Jo's Café in town was a world-class baker.

“I don't even want to try to compete with that,” Faith said, laughing. She set the pies on the sideboard and turned to Jax.

He chuckled. “My mom ordered our chicken from the deli. She likes to say, ‘Why should I slave away in a hot kitchen when there're so many other nice things to do?' But the truth is, cooking is not her forte.”

“I'm with her on that. Besides, I'm too busy with the horses to mess around with culinary endeavors. And my kitchen isn't exactly well equipped. The appliances aren't in very good shape. Now, what can I do to help you?”

“Um—set the silverware, I guess.”

Jax had the oddest sensation that the atmosphere of the house had lightened the moment Faith walked in. Maybe it was because of the way her smile seemed to brighten up any room she entered. Maybe it was knowing he could be himself around her without worrying about what he was saying or doing, or that she was staring at him for all the wrong reasons.

He was, after all,
amazing
.

He grinned. Whatever it was, he liked it. She made him feel less burdened. More secure. He couldn't wipe the smile from his face if he tried.

Which was kindling for a very large fire. He might as well just hand Nick and Slade a pack of matches and be done with it. They were going to take one look at his face and off they'd go, razzing him to no end, assuming there was something romantic going on between him and Faith.

And worse yet, they would give Faith a whole lot of the same kind of trouble.

For his part, he could handle it. He'd been picked on enough growing up with his two rough-and-tumble brothers that there was nothing they could say or do to ruffle him. But how fair was that to Faith? She didn't deserve the ribbing that was most certainly coming her way. He was pretty sure she didn't want to hear his brothers' teasing suggestions about romance or anything else.

Jax was so busy worrying about what his brothers could or would say that he didn't notice how many pieces of his mother's best silverware Faith had laid out at each place setting.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there, cowgirl,” he said, throwing up his hands. “How many forks does one man need to eat his meal?”

Three, apparently. At least Faith thought so.

She looked at him in dismay. “I was just trying to make it look fancy. Do you think it's too much, then?”

“Believe me—one knife, one fork and one spoon is all we'll be needing,” he advised her with a smile. “Any more than that and my brothers will take to creating such a ruckus over it that you'll never hear the end of it.”

Alice entered the room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Why, Faith dear, I didn't hear you come in.”

“She brought pies,” Jax said, patting his lean middle.

“Phoebe's pies,” Faith qualified.

“The table looks lovely, honey,” she said, addressing Jax. “I especially like what you've done with the silverware.” Alice flashed Jax a crafty smile before returning to the kitchen. The Cheshire cat couldn't have done a better job of it. Jax thought he might even have caught a wink.

Jax met Faith's eyes, and they broke into smothered laughter.

“Guess we're keeping the silverware,” Faith said, covering her mouth with her palm as another giggle escaped.

Jax shook his head. “Don't say I didn't warn you. There will be a food fight before the night is over.”

“Don't worry about me. I can take anything your brothers sling at me. Even peas. And I give as good as I get.”

He choked on his laughter. She probably could, Jax realized. Maybe his brothers ought to be the ones to look out. Faith was strong and sure of herself, able to take life as it came to her. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to do his best to shelter her from the worst of the familial fallout.

The doorbell rang repeatedly, as if someone was holding the button down. Jax's first thought was of his sleeping babies, followed by thunderous intentions toward whichever idiot brother thought ringing the doorbell was a good idea.

Somebody's head was going to roll.

“I'll get it,” Faith said. “You'd better check on the twins.”

Jax growled in agreement and crept down the hallway, gingerly avoiding the loose floorboards that creaked when he stepped on them, like a soldier in a minefield. He'd often stayed at his mother's during those first few crucial days with his girls. Long nights pacing the hallway had taught him where each and every creak and squeak was located.

He peeked into the portable crib, where Rose and Violet were napping. Happily, the doorbell hadn't wakened either baby. He wanted them to get as much rest as possible before chaos reigned supreme in the house.

He watched Violet sleep for a moment, measuring the rise and fall of her chest and smiling softly at her sweet little face and the way she sucked noisily on her fist in her sleep.

Happy dreams, little ones.

He tiptoed out of the room and closed the door so it was open only a crack. His mother had installed a baby monitor, but he was still in that first-time parent freak-out-at-the-tiniest-little-noise phase, which his mother often teased him about.

So he was a little overprotective. He wasn't sure he would
ever
get over that phase. Look out, teenage boys wanting to date either one of his daughters.

Still grinning, he turned the corner of the hallway into the family room, where Faith was standing at the front door, her mouth agape.

“Jax?” she squeaked in a high, tight voice.

He immediately went on full alert, adrenaline shooting through his veins. Faith's defensive posture and the fact that she was literally blocking the doorway was a clear signal that it wasn't one of his brothers standing there, but who—

“Jackson?” a shrill voice called, sending a chill down Jax's spine. “This
woman
will not let me in the house. Tell her to get out of my way. I want to see my babies.”

At the sound of Susie's voice, every muscle in Jax's body tightened to the point of pain, but the angry haze in his mind made him oblivious to it.

This was
so
not happening. And if she thought she was going to waltz in and see the twins, she was highly mistaken.

Faith, bless her courageous little heart, hadn't budged from where she blocked the doorway. The set of her shoulders suggested she wasn't taking this unwanted invasion any better than he was, but she was tough and determined and he was glad he had her fighting on his side—on his children's side.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he moved into the doorway behind Faith and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Calm. Cool. Collected.

He'd been fervently praying to be able to forgive Susie for all of her thoughtless actions, but then the second he saw her face it all came rushing back—the humiliation, the pain of rejection. The grief caused by the death of a marriage. The shock when he'd suddenly discovered he was a father twice over and that his babies had been unfeelingly dumped on his front porch.

Surprisingly, though, there was one key emotion missing from the equation. Susie no longer had the ability to break his heart. Not because it was already broken beyond repair, but because it had healed—and it no longer belonged to her. His love for her was truly in the past.

“What are you doing here, Susie?” he demanded. “Circle M isn't your home anymore.”

He swept his gaze across his ex-wife. The long brown curls she'd once put so much stock into had lost their bounce and sheen. Her eyes were glassy and the pupils dilated to the point where her normally blue eyes appeared nearly black. Susie had always been slender, but now she looked skeletal. The woman who had always been so particular about her appearance was gone, replaced by a stranger Jax barely recognized.

He narrowed his eyes on her. “You didn't drive here on your own, did you?”

She scowled and crossed her arms, the long orange sleeves of her shirt flopping over her wrists. “So what if I did?”

So what?

She was clearly on something, making driving a vehicle both dangerous and illegal.

She scoffed. “If you must know, my boyfriend, Michael, drove me here. He prefers not to see you, so he's waiting for me in the car.” Her scowl deepened. “Don't judge, Jax. You have no idea how difficult it was for me to come here today.”

Jax wondered if this Michael fellow was in any better condition to drive than Susie, but he didn't ask. Maybe it was better not to know.

“Come in.” Jax sighed and stepped aside, sliding his hand from Faith's shoulder to her waist, keeping her close to his side. As much as he would have liked to believe he was somehow offering her comfort with the physical contact, he knew better.

Faith was his rock.

Jax gestured Susie to the armchair and guided Faith to the couch. He drew her down beside him and rested his arm over the back of the sofa after they sat. To his relief, Faith didn't protest. She seemed to understand that he wanted Susie to know he'd moved on with his life—although probably not as far as Susie might interpret, given Faith's presence and their body language toward each other.

Susie gave Faith a pointed look. “Jax and I need to talk. Alone.”

He stiffened and slid his arm firmly around Faith's shoulders. “Faith stays. Anything you have to say to me you can say to both of us.”

And to his mother, who was standing just out of sight in the space that separated the family room from the dining room. Jax had seen her when he'd turned around to let Susie in.

He figured she would make her presence known if and when she wanted to, and in the meantime, she had as much a right to hear this conversation as anybody present.

“Make it quick,” he said. “My brothers will be here in a few minutes for a family dinner.”

“Oh! And how are Nick and Slade?” Susie's voice was animated, sounding as if they were old friends engaged in small talk.

He raised his brows. As if she cared.

“Get to the point.” Maybe his voice was a little too abrupt, but what did she expect? He was coping the best he could, given the circumstances.

“Okay.” Susie smoothed her palms on her jeans and pulled her mouth into a pout, an expression that used to work especially well on Jax. Now he felt nothing other than mild annoyance and the urge to roll his eyes.

“Well, then, if we're not going to talk, I'd like to see the babies now.” The cavalier way she referred to her children made him sick, and even worse was the way she shifted her gaze to Faith. “Why don't you be a dear and go get them for me?”

“No.” He wasn't going to beat around the bush with this, and he wasn't about to give in to her demands. “You are in no condition to see the twins right now.”