The Cowboy's Twins (16 page)

It took her a few minutes, but she was finally ready for the last three horses—Willow and Pilgrim, the first two horses she'd received at Untamed, and Fuego himself.

But when she turned to herd them through the gate, only Willow and Pilgrim remained.

Fuego was gone.

Chapter Nine

J
ax stood with his back against the Bobcat and watched the Serendipity Fire Department put out the last of the flames. Though he was standing in the rain, sweat drenched his forehead and salt stung his eyes. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, making the smoke look like a misty haze instead of the deadly threat it had felt like last night.

He'd used the small tractor to create as long of a trench as he could and as fast as possible to keep the fire from spreading. He had continued to help once the fire department arrived, but by the end of the night he could see what little good it had done. Despite his best efforts, Faith had still lost close to a hundred acres of grazing turf to the fire. It made him sick to think about.

Chief Jenkins, the fire chief, assured him that if it hadn't been for his efforts, the damage might have been a whole lot worse.

Jax wasn't satisfied with that answer. The damage was bad enough, and it would set Faith back substantially. If he'd been able to move faster, or if he had carved his trenches closer to the base of the fire...

“I'm going to drive the Bobcat back and check on Faith and the herd,” he told Chief Jenkins, who shook his hand.

“You did well, Jax. We appreciate your efforts. The department will finish up things here, and then I'll come up to the house and let Faith know how things stand.”

“Thanks for all you've done. I know Faith will want to express her gratitude, as well.”

The Bobcat moved at a snail's pace, unlike the previous evening when it seemed to carry him to the fire much faster than he could handle. His heart had been beating out of his chest last night, trying to get to the fire and stop it from attacking Faith's property even as every instinct in his body told him to get as far away from the flames as he could. Now his heart was aching even worse, knowing he had to tell her the bad news about the destruction of her land before Captain Jenkins beat him to it. Better that the information come from a friend than from the fire chief.

He wondered not for the first time how Faith was handling dealing with the herd. He had every belief in her abilities. He just hoped she was aware of how good she was.

He hadn't seen her since they'd split the evening previous, nor had he spotted any stray horses lingering around, so he hoped all had gone well in that regard.

At least God had seen fit to save the house. And hopefully all the horses.

And most important of all, Faith herself.

He'd meant what he'd whispered into her ear the night before. It wasn't some kind of disaster declaration, made only because of adrenaline and the drama of the moment.

He was in love with her. It had started the moment she bid on him at the auction, even if it had only been because she felt a backward sense of compassion for his sorry mug. She'd been by his side through every catastrophe since then—one after another—and they'd had a few beautiful moments, too, such as the times they'd spent together with the twins and the incredible kiss they'd shared.

He'd grown used to having her in his life, helping her with her burdens and letting her help with his, being by her side, enjoying the way she offered up her own brand of strength and compassion, whether he asked for it or not. She was always there for him, no matter what.

And he wanted to be there for her, to protect her, provide for her and love her with his whole heart. If she'd let him, he wanted to take the savings he'd earned over the years as a horse trainer and partner with her to make Untamed everything she imagined it could be, and then some. If it was in his power, he wanted to make her dreams come true.

He also wanted to give her a family no one could take away from her—the family she'd always dreamed of. Wanted to fully entrust to her the care and love of Violet and Rose, giving her the opportunity to open her heart up to the children she'd longed for, completely without fear. He wouldn't be opposed to hearing the pitter-patter of even more little feet somewhere in the future, babies with Faith's hazel eyes and sweet smile.

He wanted to give her the world.

But was she willing to accept it from him? Did fear have too strong a hold on her heart for her to consider opening it to him? She didn't seem to want to fall in love again—and who was he to change her mind? A battered, scarred wreck of a man. But a man who loved her with all his heart. Would that be enough?

With nowhere else to turn, Jax decided to hand the situation over to God. When he'd become a father, it had given him a whole new outlook as to who God was as a Father, and Jax found himself turning to the Lord more often for help and guidance.

He prayed now as he drove, asking God for all the right words to express the feelings in his heart. All of this meant nothing if he couldn't convince her she could trust him with her heart, if she couldn't finally lay her past to rest and realize she could truly hope for the future with him and the twins.

He of all people knew how hard it was to keep the past in the past, especially since
his
past seemed to keep popping back up in his life. But he also knew he couldn't let fear keep him from living his life to the fullest.

Last night Faith hadn't shared his sentiment, or at least she hadn't said the words aloud. It was his own fault that he'd picked the least opportune moment possible to make such a declaration.

His hopes were sky-high as he approached the ranch house, but he also felt as vulnerable as he'd ever been in his entire life. Faith was a kind woman, but even a compassionate rejection might be more than he could handle right now.

He was tired of hiding from life for fear of rejection. And Faith held that in the palm of her hand. If she didn't love him, then so be it. He would have to try to find satisfaction in being her friend. And he would keep trying to earn her trust and respect.

Just as long as she stayed in his life.

He spotted her long before she saw him. She was leaning against the corral fence, speaking to the horses. Alban's back was bare and his reins loosely tied to the fence.

At first glance it looked as if she'd managed to round up the entire herd. He was impressed with her skills, but then, he'd known she could do it. Even in the dark, and even in the pouring rain. When she set her mind on something, she accomplished it.

Just look how fast she'd learned how to handle running the ranch. For someone who'd not grown up with horses, she displayed considerable finesse with them. She had adapted far more gracefully than he had taken to caring for his twins. He still felt awkward sometimes when he was faced with daddy duties.

As soon as she saw him unfold himself from the Bobcat, she jumped down off the fence and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him so hard she was choking him. He laughed and grabbed her waist, whirling her around and around.

He was so happy it took him a second to figure out she wasn't laughing with him. She was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering.

He pulled back to look at her face. He was surprised to see tears pouring down her cheeks. His gaze met hers.

“Sweetheart, what's wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I'm just so happy to see you.”

“Well, that's good to know.” He grinned and shook his head. He'd never understand why women cried when they were happy.

She touched his shoulder, his face, his ear, gently running her fingers against his scars. In some ways it was the same thing Susie had done, but it was such a different kind of caress that it was like night and day. There wasn't disgust or pity in her fingertips, nor even kindness or compassion. It was as if she was reassuring herself of his reality by touching those marks that were uniquely his to bear.

She sighed and brushed her palm down his whiskered cheek. He laid his hand over hers, holding her to him. “The fire is out, Faith. It's over.”

He was about to tell her about the damage to her property, but she spoke first.

“I lost him.”

What? Lost who? Had one of the horses perished in the fire?

“I'm sorry, Jax. I don't know what happened.”

“To...?”

“Fuego. And after all you did for him. It was the weirdest thing I've ever experienced. And then to have it end like this—it just hurts my heart.”

She took Jax's hand and threaded her fingers through his, drawing him toward the corral.

“By the time I found the horses, Fuego had rounded up practically the whole herd and had driven them to the eastern part of the second meadow.”

“About as far away from the fire as he could get. That's my smart boy.”

“I was shocked. He seemed to know what he needed to do to preserve the band.”

“As I'm sure you're learning, horses are intelligent.”

“I've always known that.”

He smiled down at her. Maybe not always, but she certainly knew now.

“I herded the mares and foals back to the corral just like you told me to do. Fuego helped me, nudging the foals along and rounding up the occasional straggler.”

She groaned in dismay. “I got them as far as the corral without any problems. I knew I was one horse short when I did a head count in the field. I couldn't take the time to figure which horse I was missing until I got them all rounded up in the corral. It broke my heart to even think about leaving a horse out there on its own, but I knew I had to put the well-being of the band over that of the one horse.

“The corral gate isn't big enough for me to be able to herd all the horses at once, so I rounded up three at a time. Fuego kept the rest of the band together while I did the herding. It was as if we were working as a team.”

He nodded. “You were.”

Her smile was tired, and though her tears had slowed, they hadn't stopped.

“Near the end I had three horses left—Willow, Pilgrim and Fuego. But when I got ready to herd them in, I discovered Fuego had disappeared. I looked around and he was just—
gone
.”

“Hmm. That's odd.”

“The horses in the corral were spooking all over the place. My presence seemed to calm them. I just couldn't justify leaving an entire herd of frightened wild horses cooped up in a corral by themselves to look for Fuego, even though I knew that's where they'd be safest.”

“So you stayed with them,” he guessed. “It was the right thing to do.”

“But Fuego—”

“Is probably fine,” Jax finished for her. “You said it yourself. He's a smart horse. He managed to get all the rest of the herd away from the fire. I doubt he'd go charging into it himself.”

“I just keep thinking about how he got caught up in the lumber. If anything else happened to him, I'm not sure my heart would be able to stand it.”

“I'll go look for him,” he assured her. “Or better yet, we can go together. The horses will be fine unsupervised for an hour now that the fire is out and the sun is up. We'll put them in the first meadow and they can graze. Did you ever determine who else was missing?”

“A pregnant mare. Prada. She's close to her time. I'm praying nothing bad happened to her.”

“We'll look for her, as well.” He ran his gaze over her mount. “Please don't tell me you rode Alban bareback last night.” He knew he sounded like a badgering schoolteacher, but he was soaked and exhausted beyond belief from staying up all night, and the thought of Faith galloping around bareback in the dark with slick rain pelting her and her wet mount was more than he could handle.

Didn't she know she could have hurt herself, fallen off and hit her head on a rock? His chest tightened at the thought.

She frowned. “I didn't want to take the time to tack up. As far as I was concerned, every second counted, and I still stand by that decision.”

“Except that a horse's bare back is especially slippery when it's wet, and it would have taken all of five minutes to put a saddle on him. What would have happened if you'd hurt yourself?” His voice rose. “Did it even occur to you that you might be putting yourself in danger?”

She scoffed. “Of course it did. And I didn't have a lot of time to think through all of the implications. But now that I'm looking back on it, I would do exactly the same thing again, so stop bugging me about it.”

Jax growled in frustration. Stubborn woman.

“Well, we're saddling him this time. Did you get your second riding horse in, or are we doubling up on Alban?”

“
Thankfully
,” she said, emphasizing the word, “he showed up the day before yesterday. He's a beautiful quarter horse named Brobie. I'm warning you—he's only green broke. I'm not sure he's ready to ride in the open country yet.”

Jax didn't care one whit if the horse was green broke or purple broke or if he had ever seen a saddle at all. Grumbling under his breath, he tacked up both horses. The woman was riding with a saddle this time.

He mounted Brobie and waited for her to mount Alban. “We should check the east fence where you found Fuego and the herd last night,” he decided, knowing he sounded like a dictator but unable to temper his tone.

She lifted her chin and glared at him. “I agree.”

Hmmph. Well, at least they agreed on something.

He led them at an easy lope, just fast enough that talking was difficult. He should probably be telling her all he knew about the fire and the damage to her land, but that news wasn't going anywhere. He'd let her regroup from one crisis at a time.

And try, this time, not to be so grumpy about it. He owed her an apology for being so short with her. She was still new to ranches and horses. So she'd made a mistake. Nothing bad had come of it. She was fine.
He'd
been the one to make a big deal about it.

He scowled, angry at himself. After today, with his huge display of bad temper, it would be a wonder if she agreed to marry him.

Marry him?