The Cowboy's Twins (17 page)

Yes.
That's what he'd been dancing around when he'd been thinking of babies and families and offering Faith security and safety. He just hadn't formulated it in words, so much.

Now that he had the idea in his head, though, he liked it. What said
forever
like a diamond engagement ring?

Aaaand now he was starting to sound like a jewelry shop commercial. He wanted to provide a permanent commitment and express his love, but he hoped he wouldn't get as sappy as all that.

Was he getting ahead of himself? Probably. Just the previous night, he'd told her he loved her—and had then walked off without giving her a chance to respond. Maybe she was just waiting for the crisis to pass before letting him down gently. He knew with a bone-deep certainty that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. On the other hand, he had no idea what she wanted.

He just hoped it was him.

And he also hoped that she wouldn't stay mad at him after their little spat this morning. He was glad to know she wasn't the kind of woman who held grudges.

But he wasn't about to propose out in a field on horseback while they were missing horses and they were both soaked to the bone and she was still mad at him for something stupid he'd said. He'd wait until today's chaos was in the past, and then he'd tell her everything—how much he loved her, how he wanted to build a life with her, how beautifully he thought their hopes and dreams for the future could mesh together. And then he'd ask her to marry him.

But none of that was going to happen today.

Faith surged ahead of him and cantered to the fence line, riding a few hundred yards before pulling up and returning to his side. He was struggling with the green-broke colt, who wanted to bolt instead of stand still.

“This is where they were last night, but I don't see any sign of Fuego or the mare.”

“Then we've got to keep riding.” Rats. He sounded like a dictator again.

Way to go, King Jax.

Thankfully, Faith didn't recognize his tone, or else she chose to ignore it.

Faith's land was fairly flat with only minor hills and ridges and a few random trees in the whole thousand acres. The horses had to be somewhere out of sight. He refused to think of any other outcome for them. Not until he had to.

“What about the copse of trees over by the stream?” she suggested. “I know some of the mares and foals like to hang out there.”

That area was fairly close to where the fire had been. Too close, by Jax's estimation. Fuego wouldn't have gone that near to the flames. Unfortunately, it was more likely that he'd found a break in the fence and was long gone by now.

And the pregnant mare? She was anybody's guess. A crazed mare about to foal might have run straight into the fire.

Jax didn't want to suggest either of these possibilities. Not yet. But he didn't have any better alternatives to offer her, so he agreed with her suggestion and trailed her to the water. They followed along the streambed for about fifteen minutes before they heard distressed whinnying coming from the very copse of trees where Faith had guessed she would be.

Prada was lying on her side, her body covered with sweat. Her skin shook and she grunted and snorted and threw her head, clearly straining with the effort of pushing out the foal. Jax didn't know how long she'd been there, but it appeared a new life was about to make its entrance into the big wide world.

With a little cry of distress, Faith slid out of the saddle and ran toward the mare.

Jax wanted to call out to her, but before he had a chance, Fuego came out of nowhere, neighing and bucking angrily. The stallion had appointed himself protector of the laboring mare, and he wasn't happy about humans coming anywhere near her.

Jax knew his green-broke horse would be useless in this situation, and he had only seconds to spare before the stallion charged Faith.

He threw himself off the colt as if he were bulldogging, landing halfway across Fuego's back. He grabbed a handful of mane and struggled to pull himself onto the horse's back. Fuego turned his head and snorted, then threw his weight to one side and then the other, rearing to the front and then the back, turning in tight circles and trying desperately to dislodge his unwelcome rider.

“Easy, boy,” he called, but the horse was too wound up to listen to his voice.

Jax somehow managed to stay on Fuego's back. He'd never had any inclination to try to ride a wild mustang stallion, bareback or otherwise, and he didn't want to now, but when the alternative was seeing Faith plowed down by an overprotective band leader, he'd do whatever he had to do. He wanted to yell at Faith to get away from the mare, to go back to Alban where she'd be safer, but Fuego's bucking kept jolting the breath out of him before he could speak.

Faith was hunched over by the mare's side, stroking her neck and speaking to her in soft tones. She seemed entirely unaware of the explosion of silver stallion going on behind her. The stream was rushing loudly beside them, swollen from the previous night's storm. The sound of the frothing water, on top of the mare's pained grunts, must have been enough to block out the noise of Fuego's temper tantrum.

“Faith!”

She turned in his direction and her eyes widened, her mouth gaping in fright.

Jax could feel his grip on Fuego faltering and knew he wouldn't be able to keep the stallion away from the mare—and Faith—for much longer. He opened his mouth one more time to try to warn her, but his words were lost at the same time he lost his seat.

He landed hard on his bad shoulder, and the pain of his scar roared to life, but he ignored it, pushing himself to his feet and running full force toward Faith.

He couldn't see Fuego but knew the stallion must be right behind him. Faith's eyes were still glued to his.

He charged forward and scooped her up by the waist. She screamed in alarm. He twisted hard, just barely missing the angry muzzle of the charging horse.

“Run,” he said, pushing her in the direction from which they'd come. “Run and don't look back.”

She cast a look over her shoulder and apparently saw Fuego and realized what danger she was in, because she actually listened to him. She tucked her head and ran, following the path of the streambed.

Jax turned back to the stallion, who was stomping and snorting, the whites of his eyes a reflection of his defensive frame of mind.

Jax slowly raised his hands. “Easy there, boy. Faith didn't mean to interrupt. She just wanted to see how Prada was doing. No harm, no foul.”

Fuego snorted again but didn't charge him.

Progress. Jax let out his breath and calmed his posture. Fuego would sense any stress or tension Jax carried in his body. They'd already had quite a run-in today. He knew he probably wasn't on top of the stallion's friends list right now.

He backed up until he was even with Alban. If he could somehow manage to get mounted, he'd hopefully be able to handle Fuego and watch the mare for signs of distress, but it was a risk. Fuego could very easily charge him and prevent him from ever mounting Alban.

“It's okay, boy. Remember, we're the good guys,” he said, keeping his voice low and even as he hooked his hand over the saddle horn and put his foot into the stirrup. “We're glad to see you both are safe, you know. The three of you, I mean. And I totally get why you'd want to keep an eye on one of your mares. You're a good boy.”

Jax swung his leg over Alban's body and shifted his weight in the saddle.

Fuego hadn't moved but was still eyeing him warily.

“Let's just make sure everything is well with the foal, and then I'm out of here,” he promised, carefully watching Fuego's body language for any sign of a sudden movement.

He glanced behind him, but Faith was out of sight. He hoped she'd keep on running and wouldn't get it in her head to turn back over a mistaken sense of obligation toward him or the horses.

He watched the mare for a few more minutes until two wet legs appeared. Good. It looked as if the foal was in the right position for an easy birth. It would have been even easier for Prada if he was able to get down and offer her a bit of assistance, but there was no way he was going to put Fuego to the test again. That was a battle he knew he would lose, and he respected the stallion for that.

“Come on, girl,” he cheered quietly. “You can do it.”

The mare snorted, and with another big push the foal emerged and immediately started wriggling around. Prada whickered and rolled to her feet, nudging for her little chestnut foal to do the same.

Jax chuckled as the wobbly-legged foal struggled to follow its mama's lead. Fuego snorted and trotted back and forth around the area, acting like a proud papa even though it wasn't his foal.

I know how you feel, buddy. I've got a couple of kids myself. And even though I didn't know them before they were born, I couldn't be prouder of them.

Jax watched Fuego for a few more minutes and observed the mare and foal. He probably wouldn't have kept a stallion in the same meadow with a mare about to foal, but in this case it had turned out fine. Better than fine. All three horses were thriving.

And his job was done, at least for the time being. He had to find Faith before she managed to jog all the way back up to the house by herself. He nudged Alban's side and reached for Brobie's lead, frankly impressed that the green-broke colt hadn't bolted off somewhere during all the chaos. He'd be a good horse and a fine addition to Faith's stable. It would be nice for her to have more than one riding horse, if nothing else than for emergencies such as this one.

He leaned forward and all out galloped, enjoying the wind in his face, which, now that he thought about it, must look smeared and sticky from smoke and sweat. It was a wonder Faith hadn't said anything about it. She'd looked at him as if he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

So he was deaf and she was blind.

He caught up with her less than half a mile from the house. She wasn't running, but she was...
striding
. Stomping, maybe, her arms flinging back and forth as if she were punching the air.

He reined in beside her and dismounted, pulling the reins over Alban's head and handing them to her. She took them without slowing her pace or speaking to him. She hadn't even glanced at him since he'd ridden up.

So she was still mad at him, then.

He supposed he deserved it. And she might very well have misinterpreted his earlier actions with Fuego. She'd been concentrating on the mare. She probably hadn't seen him wrestling with the stallion or realized the possibility of her getting trampled under Fuego's mighty hooves.

And then there was the issue of him scooping her up like a cowboy loading a sack of oats in the back of his pickup truck. He'd tossed her around with just about as much finesse.

She whirled on him and pounded her fists into his chest. “What in the world were you thinking?”

* * *

Jax opened his mouth, probably to try to explain his side of things, but Faith was too angry to let him get a word in edgewise.

“You could have been killed, you crazy cowboy. And it would have been all. My. Fault! I can't believe I did something so stupid.”

“It wasn't stupid. You were only thinking about the welfare of your mare.”

“Right. And not that Fuego wouldn't be happy about me messing with one of his mares. Or that you would jump in to save me, putting yourself at risk, like you always do.”

He had put his arms around her waist, and now he tightened his grip on her, tilting his head so his gaze caught hers.

“Did you even know Fuego was there?”

“Well, no. But that's beside the point. I put you in mortal danger.”

He laughed.

Laughed!

Faith found nothing funny about this situation. She'd almost lost the love of her life before she'd even gotten to tell him he was the love of her life.

“I have to admit I never wanted to be a bronc rider. Now I'm certain I don't ever want to rodeo. I'll leave that kind of craziness to my ex-bull-riding brother.”

“I can't believe you actually got on Fuego's back,” she breathed. It was totally wrong in a million different ways, and she'd been scared out of her mind, but she had to admit it had been magnificent to watch—now that it was over and Jax was safe in her arms.

“And stayed there.” He puffed out his chest and flexed his biceps. “For a minute, anyway.”

“Yeah. Long enough for me to realize what a terrible mistake I had made. He didn't hurt you, did he? After I took off running? I know you took quite a sharp fall. You don't have any new bites for me to bandage?”

He kissed her forehead. “Other than a couple of bumps and bruises, I came out unscathed. Alban helped me out when I needed him.”

“He's a good horse.”

“So is Fuego.”

“I know. He was just being a wild stallion, right?”

“The best kind.”

“How is Prada? She looked pretty awful when I was there with her.”

“That's because she was just about to give birth. She's fine now, and you have a new little sweet chestnut filly in your herd.”

“Oh, Jax.” She tightened her arms around him. “I thought maybe there was something wrong with Prada. Or the baby. And I was so afraid Fuego was going to go ballistic on you.” She shuddered and tears poured from her eyes.

She dashed them away with the back of her hand.

“I never cry when I'm frightened,” she said. “Although admittedly I've never been
this
frightened before. Lately it seems I cry at the drop of a hat, but usually I only bawl when I'm angry about something.”

He nodded solemnly. “Good to know. So if I see you crying, I should turn and walk the other direction.”

She swatted his shoulder. “Stop giving me a hard time. I was really scared for you.”