The Cowboy's Twins (15 page)

“And in my life, too, Faith. I care for you.”

She pulled back and crossed her arms as a shiver ran through her. “I know. I believe you. You know as well as I do that I've already developed special feelings for Rose and Violet, and I know they recognize that in me. But I can't risk going through that kind of experience ever again, Jax.

“You already have the power to break my heart. Every day I'm with you I grow closer and more attached to Rose and Violet. If we ever ended our relationship, I'd be ending my relationship with the twins, as well. I can't do that. I just can't. It wouldn't be fair to them, and it would be devastating to me. And before you say it, I don't think I can just be your friend. Not after last night.”

She knew she should stand up and move away from him. She needed to put some physical distance between them. She couldn't think straight when she was looking into his warm chocolate eyes.

She knew that in her head, but she couldn't seem to make her limbs cooperate. She did not protest when he leaned in closer, even when he bent his head to brush his lips over hers. She laid her palm flat against his chest, but it was not to push him away.

She wanted to feel his heart beat.

“I understand,” he murmured against her ear. “I do. And I don't claim to know what the answer is right now. I only know I can't let you go. We will find a way, Faith. I promise you that. Do you trust me?”

She nodded and laid her ear where her palm had been, listening to the steady, reassuring thump of his heart, breathing in his familiar scent.

She did trust him. He'd won her over the same way he'd done with Fuego. With lots of patience and hard work. She believed him. She believed
in
him, probably more than he believed in himself.

They were a fine pair, the two of them, each broken in their own way.

“I'm sorry, Jax. This was a bad time for me to wig out on you this way, what with Susie coming by and all. I didn't mean to add to your grief.”

He let out a deep breath and combed his fingers through his thick, dark hair. She sat back in her chair and brought her knees up to her chest, then picked up her coffee cup and took a long, satisfying sip of the now-lukewarm liquid. The hint of hazelnut lingered on her tongue.

“I've been thinking about the situation with Susie. I think I may have to take legal action,” he said, stroking a hand down the stubble on his jaw. “I don't know how else to keep her away. But honestly, I hate to go that direction unless I have to. I can give the twins everything they need without a government document telling me to. But I don't trust her to keep her distance, just because it's the right thing to do. Getting custody officially will let me protect the twins from her. I'll get a DNA test done to prove my paternity in case my name isn't listed on the birth certificate.”

“That's a good idea.”

“And I'm going to do everything I can to keep interacting with Susie on my own terms. I hope—I pray—she wises up and gets the help she needs.”

Faith put her hand on his. He linked their fingers.

“What happens if she keeps coming back?”

His lips thinned. “That thought occurred to me. I can't let it keep me up nights, or it will make me crazy. I've got too many good things going on in my life right now to let endless negative possibilities put a damper on it. I'll hire the best lawyer on the planet and fight tooth and nail for the twins. I don't know what I would do without my girls.”

“I'm sure you will be able to—”

Her sentence was cut off by the eerie sound of a horse's scream.

Chapter Eight

J
ax was on his feet in an instant, rushing toward the door. Faith knocked her cup over and righted it again, not bothering to wipe up the black liquid spreading across the table.

Rain was coming down in sheets, and thunder and lightning boomed and crackled. Jax knew the herd would probably be a little skittish because of the storm, but it shouldn't have put them in an all-out frenzy. Something else was wrong. He could feel it in his gut.

Faith grabbed his elbow, and he shot a glance back to her.

“What's happening?” she asked frantically, and he knew it wasn't the first time she'd asked. Stupid hearing loss.

“I don't know.” He held out his hand to her. “Come on. Hurry.”

Jax couldn't immediately see what was causing the herd to act up, but clearly something had majorly spooked them. It was only after they'd turned the corner of the barn that Jax realized what was happening.

Fire.

His scar tissue sparked to life with a scorching itch as if the flame was right on top of it, attacking him again.

The memory was as intense as the lightning above them. It came in short, sharp bursts like photographic images.

He sees the accident take place in front of him as if it plays out in slow motion. He watches the car's taillights gleam as it flies off an embankment. He hears the sickening crunch of the front end plowing headfirst into a tree.

The shrill horn peals and peals. He wants to cover his ears against the sound. It makes his ears hurt.

He reaches for his cell phone and calls 911, giving his location in a shaky voice.

He runs out in the rain, ignoring the downpour.

The car is on fire. How can it be on fire in the rain? The driver is slumped over the wheel and doesn't appear to be conscious.

He checks the driver's side door. It is locked. He runs around to try the passenger door. It is also locked.

He wraps his coat around his hand and punches through the passenger side window.

Once. Twice.

The shattered glass mirrors a spider web but does not break through.

Another punch. He's through. He trips the switch, unlocking all the doors.

The woman in the driver's seat is partially conscious after all, but she's nearly unresponsive. There's a kid who looks to be five or six in a booster seat in the back. He reaches for the booster seat first, unbuckling the belt. He carries the little boy, up the ravine, placing him in the safety of the truck until the paramedics arrive to help him.

He slides back down the ravine to rescue the woman. He knows it's not safe to try to move an injured person, but the car is still on fire. Do cars explode in real life like they do in movies?

He doesn't know. Can he wait, not knowing for sure?

The police are almost here. The fire department. Paramedics. They will know what to do.

But the fire.

The fire.

“Ma'am?” he yells. “Can you walk, if I help you?”

She nods and mumbles something in his ear but he can't understand her. Reaching under her shoulder, he supports her while she climbs out of the car. He walks her step by careful step up the embankment.

She's repeating something over and over, but the rain washes the sound away.

“What?” He leans closer.

“My baby. My baby.”

A baby. Is there a baby in the car? Or is she talking about the little boy?

He slides down the hill and forces himself into the backseat of the car. The storm is dark. There is no moon. He searches blindly with his hands for another child.

The engine explodes. The car lists and then overturns. Jax is flung forward, rolling over the backseat and into the front. His head strikes something hot. The last thing he remembers before passing out is the searing pain of skin on hot metal.

“Jax!” Faith was pulling on his arm, desperately trying to get his attention. He didn't know how long his shock had lasted. A few moments at least. “Do you see it? The fire?”

He nodded. The grass fire looked to be somewhere around the third meadow, probably caused by lightning. It might be hampered by the rain, but it was a real threat nonetheless. Fires like this could flare out of control within minutes.

And fire was Jax's worst nightmare come to life.

“What should we do?” Faith asked, wringing her hands. “I'll call 911 as soon as I get back in the barn.”

“Yes, that should be the first order of business. I think the fire department should be able to take care of this grass fire fairly easily, but fire is a tricky thing. It's unreliable and has a mind of its own.”

Unconsciously, he ran a finger across the scar on his face.

“Oh, Jax.” She laid her hand on his scarred cheek and then hugged him fiercely.

“I'm fine. Look, we've got the rain in our favor. I'll get the Bobcat going. I don't know how much trenching I'll be able to do but every little bit helps, to keep the fire from crossing the line and destroying more of your land. And if you can find me a shovel, that will help, too.”

“Should I go with you?”

“No. You need to look after the horses. Take Alban and see if you can find the herd and drive them into the corral. They'll be frightened so they may be more difficult than usual, but I know you can do it. It's time to prove your skills, Faith. The horses are going to be pretty stressed. Do whatever you can to keep them calm so you can get them where it's safe.”

Faith stepped inside the barn and pulled out her phone, speaking with a 911 operator at the same time she retrieved a shovel for Jax.

He had the Bobcat running by the time she returned. He couldn't tell whether the moisture on her face was from the rain or from tears. He wiped her cheeks with his palms and kissed her forehead.

“Your horses will be fine, Faith. And don't worry. I'll save as much of your property as I can.”

She squeezed him so hard he lost his breath.

“I don't care about my stupid land,” she said with a sob. “Promise me you'll stay safe. Promise me, Jax.”

He framed her face with his hands. “We'll get through this, Faith. Together. God didn't bring us this far to leave us hanging now.”

She nodded and set her jaw in determination. “Go.”

He hopped into the Bobcat and made it about five feet before he stopped the vehicle again. He strode back to where Faith was still standing and kissed her long and hard.

“I love you.”

She placed a palm on his cheek. “Go.”

This time he continued down the road on the Bobcat, wishing the vehicle went faster. His good ear strained to hear anything above the roll of the storm and the hum of the engine, trying to make out the sound of stray horses or the sirens of rescue vehicles.

But all he could hear was his own ragged breathing cutting up the night air, growing shorter and more rapid as he drove closer and closer to the one fear he could never quite overcome.

He might not be able to do much to save the land, but he refused to quit now. He would fight with everything in him and do whatever he could. Faith had worked too hard to lose it all now.

And he wasn't going to allow himself to think about what would happen afterward.

He had declared his love for her, which had surprised him as much as it must have done her. She hadn't said she loved him back. He refused to be crushed by that knowledge. She had good reason to guard her heart. He hadn't yet offered her anything permanent and stable that she could trust, that she knew she would be able to depend on forever.

But he would—even if he had to walk through fire to do it.

* * *

Faith spent more time than she should have watching Jax leave, bobbing down the road in the little tractor.
Courageous
didn't even begin to describe his efforts, heading off to face his worst fears straight on.

She didn't have that strength. She had waited until Jax was back in the Bobcat before she'd whispered her own vow—

“I love you, too.”

There was no way he could have heard it, and that was for the best.

She shook her head to regain her focus and ran back into the barn to grab her horse. She didn't bother tacking Alban up. She bridled him as fast as she could and mounted bareback. It would be a slick, dangerous ride in the pouring rain, especially in the dark, but she had to make sure her horses were safe and there was no time to spare.

She clicked her tongue and urged Alban into a gallop as soon as she had passed through the corral gate. She wished she'd thought to bring a flashlight, but she wouldn't have wanted to take the time to run back to the house to try to find one. She wasn't even sure she owned a flashlight.

Yet another mark on her record. Her learning curve was atrocious.

The storm clouds covered whatever moon there might have been, but the sky lit up with lightning often enough for her to find her way. She knew her property like the back of her hand, so even in the dark she felt confident in her direction.

Hearing the frightened nicker of a horse nearby, she pulled up, trotting toward the east fence where she thought she'd heard the sound.

She suspected it would take her a long time to round up all the horses, especially if they'd spooked and scattered. She prayed none of them had been caught up by the fire.

And she especially prayed for Jax, who had put himself directly in the path of those dreadful flames, just to help her. The physical part of it was bad enough without considering the fight of his life he was probably battling inside his head.

She'd seen his expression when he'd first caught sight of the fire, and she'd recognized the way his gaze faded into the past.

She'd lost him for a good minute as he'd probably relived the horrors of his accident. And now he was facing a fire again. A different sort of fire, and hopefully not one that would put him in personal danger, but as he'd said, flames were unpredictable and could take on a life of their own.

What if Jax got caught up out there?

If something happened to him, she would never forgive herself. He already had enough scars—inside and out—to last him a lifetime.

He had to stay safe. He'd told her he loved her, and she knew he didn't take those words lightly. It was hard for her to believe she'd even heard him right.

But she couldn't afford to think about that at the moment. His declaration had caught her completely off guard, and it had probably surprised him, as well. It would take her whole mind, body, soul and spirit to work through all the implications.

Right now she needed to keep her head in the game. She had to save her horses and hopefully most of her land.

The sky lit up, and she saw a flash of silver moving in the distance near the east fence in the second meadow, right near where she'd thought she'd heard the sound of horses. The area was about as far away from the fire as the horses could get without access to the corral.

Fuego.

She nudged Alban forward, happy to see her herd's stallion safely out of the way of the fire, even if she wasn't entirely certain he would take her direction to get back to the corral. She wasn't sure she possessed that skill level yet.

But she was all Fuego had, and she would have to be enough.

As she drew nearer she realized it wasn't just Fuego but her entire herd huddled together, with nearly every last horse present and accounted for.

Thank You, Lord.

Performing a quick head count, she realized there was only one horse missing, and she wasn't immediately sure which one. She wouldn't have time to do a full equine roll call until she had them all locked safe in the corral.

Fuego was running around the outside perimeter of the herd, neighing and snorting and keeping his mares and foals all together.

“Well done, Fuego,” she said, although she wasn't sure he could hear her voice over the sound of the wind and rain.

Now was the hard part—communicating to the wild horses that they needed to be moved to the corral for their own safety until the fire was extinguished and they could return to the land.

If Fuego bucked her authority, the others would most certainly follow his lead.

She gritted her teeth. If that was the case, then she couldn't let him challenge her.

She adjusted her reins and pulled up beside Fuego, holding out her free hand for him to sniff. She could see the whites of his eyes and realized how close he was to spooking. His grunting was just short of frantic.

She held her breath and ran her palm down his neck. “It's okay, boy. We've got this all under control. You and I have to get your mares and foals to safety. You know that, right, Fuego? This is your band. It's up to you.”

She didn't possess Jax's lyrical voice, but Fuego pricked his ears and tossed his head, making snorting noises that almost sounded like speech.

“All right, then. Let's go.” She rode to the back of the herd and waved her hands in large back-and-forth motions. “Let's go. Let's go now.”

She weaved Alban back and forth a few times and managed to get the herd trotting in the right direction. Fuego seemed to be leading, although he occasionally swung around to urge a straggling colt or mare along.

They made surprisingly good progress, and it wasn't long before they crossed into the first meadow. Now was the hard part. The corral gate didn't have a big enough opening to accept all the horses at once, and she didn't have any help to keep them in any sort of line. She'd have to herd in a few at a time and hope the others didn't wander away.

But it turned out she
did
have help, after all. As she worked, Fuego watched over the rest of his band, keeping them together in a loose circle. It was almost as if he understood what she was doing and he was working with her.