The Cowboy's Twins (3 page)

“Faith,” he repeated, his rich, lyrical voice making her name sound like a musical note. “I'm Jax McKenna, and apparently I am at your service.”

“It's nice to officially meet you, Jax.” She held out her hand and he dwarfed it in his own. Again she had the impression of hard work and calluses, a complete contrast to her own lotion-softened, office-cubicle working hands.

That will change. Soon.

She'd spent the last few years working in accounting for a non-profit organization to save up the money for her horse sanctuary. Mere months from now she hoped and prayed that her palms would likewise carry the blisters of hard country labor. She could barely wait for that day, anticipating it like a child would Christmas morning. She was a city girl with a country heart.

“Here we are,” she said, gesturing to a rather plain-looking brown wicker basket lingering next to the trunk of an oak, shaded from the glare of the sun by the old tree's branches. As she looked around at the other baskets dotting the lawn, she couldn't help but feel a little bit embarrassed. Her own meager offering looked so bare and ordinary next to the others. Many of the women had decorated their baskets with colorful plumes and ribbons. She wished she'd thought of that—especially because the man she'd be sharing a meal with looked as if he could use a few kindhearted gestures. But on the other hand, he didn't seem like the sort of man who'd really be comfortable with something dolled up and fancy. Maybe plain was best, after all.

Without speaking, Jax crouched over the basket, withdrawing a blue-checked plastic tablecloth that had been the best Faith could do under the circumstances. She'd arrived in Serendipity only two days ago and hadn't learned of the auction until the day prior.

How she'd come to bet on
this
particular tall, sturdy cowboy was a mystery even to her. It was nothing more than a gut feeling, but she'd learned over the years to follow those silent promptings.

Thankfully, the man with the rooster voice had stopped singing, but the crowd was still hooting and hollering in the background. Jax didn't seem to notice, nor, apparently, did he want to wait for the rest of the town to finish with the auction before he and Faith started on their picnic.

He spread the tablecloth across the grass and gestured for her to sit. Then he pulled out plates and silverware and popped the top of a cola can before offering it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, dropping onto the far corner of the plastic and folding her legs under her. “Although I feel like I ought to be doing the serving,” she said as he inspected the club sandwiches she'd made for the occasion. At least she'd used foot-long sub buns and loaded the sandwiches with meat, cheese and veggies. Dagwood would be proud of her creation.

Jax glanced up at her, and the unscarred side of his lips curled upward. Close to a smile, at any rate. Faith would take it.

“You paid for my time,” he reminded her. “I figured now is as good a time as any to start working off my—” He paused and bent his head as he considered how best to finish the sentence.

“Community service?” she suggested, chuckling at the double meaning.

“Yeah. That.” He wasn't laughing.

“I—uh—okay, right,” she stammered. She didn't usually stutter like a schoolgirl with her first crush. If she didn't get a hold of her tongue soon, he would think he was working for an idiot.

His gaze had returned to the basket, giving Faith a modicum of reprieve. She took a deep, calming breath. There was no reason spending time with this man should visibly shake her, and the sooner she got comfortable around him, the better. After all, if he was as good with horses as Jo claimed, she hoped she might be able to convince him to stretch out his community service and continue working with her until her project was—if not finished, then a great deal closer than it was right now.

Then again, maybe he was expecting nothing more than to provide one day's labor. No one had really set the guidelines for what happened after the auction, or at least nothing that Faith had heard.

“There are canisters of potato salad and barbecue baked beans, as well,” she added, relieved when her voice came out sounding normal. “I'm not much of a cook, but I made them myself. The beans are an old family recipe. Back home we called them Cowboy Beans.” The thought struck her as funny and she chuckled.

“Well, that's fittin'.” He pulled out the plastic container of beans and scooped a heaping portion onto each of their plates. “Where's home?”

He sounded genuinely interested, putting her more at ease. She leaned back on her hands. “I was born out east. Connecticut. I attended college in Wyoming. That's where I got interested in horses.” It was also where she'd met...

She cut the thought off firmly, refusing to let her mind wander in that direction again. It still hurt to think about Keith and his son. She coughed, realizing Jax was speaking and she'd missed what he'd just said. “I'm sorry. My mind wandered for a second there. What did you say?”

His dark eyebrows lowered over stormy brown eyes. He assessed her, the working side of his lip curving into a frown. “Nothing important. Just that there's good horse country out in Wyoming. Potato salad?”

“Yes, please.” She was relieved that he didn't push her on what had caused her distraction. She wasn't ready to talk about Keith, or about his precious son.

They ate in silence for a while, each lost in thought. As the auction continued, more people moved to the green, milling around them, talking and laughing. Some even stopped to introduce themselves. Faith should have been happy to be so welcomed by her new community, but her empty chest echoed with the sounds.

Before she knew it, Jax had cleaned his plate—not once, but twice, leaving her glad she'd thought to pack extra. Jo Spencer had advised her on the eating habits of the Texas male, and Jax was no slouch in that department.

“If you don't mind me asking—why?” Jax's voice had a hard edge to it, and he didn't quite meet her gaze.

“Why?” she repeated, bracing herself. She wasn't ready for him to elaborate on his question, to have to explain why a city woman wanted to open up a mustang sanctuary in the country, but sometimes there was no way out but through.

“Yeah. Why?” He lifted his tan cowboy hat and brushed his forearm across his brow. “Why did you bid on me?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Why
had
she bid on him?

“You mean why did I bid in the auction in general, or why bid for you, specifically?”

He shrugged. “Both, I guess.”

The truth was, he'd looked miserable up on the auction block, especially when there was hesitation from the crowd on bidding for him. She couldn't imagine why that was. Despite his scar, he was quite handsome, if a woman liked her men strong and rugged. Faith would have expected the town's single ladies to be shouting over each other in order to get a chance to spend time with this guy.

And yet there had been silence. The drop-of-a-pin kind.

Maybe it was too early in the game. Jax was only the second man to be auctioned, and the first bachelor. Perhaps the ladies were waiting to see who else was offering their services. Or maybe there was something about Jax that Faith didn't yet know about, such as that he was conceited or had a bad temper.

She hoped not, but she was about to find out— because Jax was frowning again.

“Look—I don't want your pity,” he said, his voice husky.

“What? No.”

“Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me you didn't feel sorry for this scarred old monster? Because I won't believe you.”

“I was standing at the back of the crowd. I couldn't even see your scar.”

He shook his head. “That's even worse.”

Now she was the one feeling insulted. “Why? You think I'm so shallow that I would want to bow out of our agreement just because of a gash on your face?”

He scoffed. “Wouldn't be the first time.”

She heard the bitterness behind his words. Someone in his past had injured him deeply. The wound in his heart was deeper than the one on his face.

“Well, that's not me. I came here today looking for someone to help me with my ranch. I bought the Dennys' old place, and it will take a lot of labor to get it in working order. If you're going to pitch in, then I couldn't care less what you look like. Wear a paper bag over your face, if you like. It won't matter to me. I'll take all the help I can get.”

His jaw lost its tightness at the welcome change of subject. He whistled softly.

“That place is pretty run-down. What do you plan to do with it?”

“I'm going to save wild mustangs.” Her voice rose in pitch as enthusiasm for her life's dream engulfed her.

His gaze turned skeptical and his lips quirked. “Are you serious?”

Of course she was serious. Ever since she'd heard of the plight of wild mustangs as a child, she'd had it in her heart to take action, to make a difference. That's why she'd left the East Coast and picked a college in Wyoming. For a while, life had gotten in the way and she'd set aside her dreams. But after what happened with Keith—she refused to dwell on that part of her life—she'd started making legitimate plans to fulfill her goals, and now here she was, in Serendipity, a brand-new owner of a ranch, however derelict it was.

Baby steps.

“You doubt me?”

He leaned his back against the solid trunk of the oak and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles, and giving her a once-over that sent chills down her spine.

His gaze lingered on her shoes.

“Forgive me if I'm a little bit skeptical. You're clearly a city girl. What do you know about ranching?”

The only reason she didn't punch him in the arm for his sarcasm—apart from not really knowing the man and how he'd react to that kind of attack—was that his words were lined with amusement. Hopefully not at her expense.

“All right. I'll admit I was born and raised in a metropolitan area and have never lived on a ranch. However, I have spent several years volunteering at a wild-horse sanctuary. I realize I'm on a learning curve here, but I have read a lot and my bachelor's degree is in business management with a minor in conservation and environmental science. I've done a lot of studying on the subject. Wyoming isn't tolerant of wild horses.”

He snorted. “You've
read
about it? Like in a library? And you think a little piece of paper somehow makes you qualified to manage a horse farm? With wild mustangs, no less. Exactly how many wranglers do you intend to hire?”

She shook her head. She was afraid this subject might come up. “None. At least at first. I'm working to find like-minded donors to help me reach my vision, but until more funds come in, I can't afford to hire any help.”

“You're doing this alone?”

“Well, not
all
alone, obviously. I have you, don't I? At least for a little while? I don't think we've talked about the length of your—
indenture
.”

“I think most guys are going a month of weekends.”

“That'll do. You can show me how to get the ranch up to scratch. I'm a fast learner.”

“You're going to have to be, because fixing up the ranch won't be your only obstacle. Just how much experience do you have with mustangs? I've spent my whole life working with horses, and they still surprise me from time to time. Wild mustangs? That's a whole other thing.”

“Yes, but they need my help.” Her pulse quickened as adrenaline blasted through her and her spirit lifted. For a moment Jax's words and attitude had discouraged her, but then she remembered how many ways the Lord had come through for her. He'd guided her to Jax. She didn't believe in coincidences.

“You train horses, then?” She wanted specifics.

“Quarter horses for ranching and rodeo.” His eyes gleamed with pride. It appeared they shared a love of horses. She just had to convince him she was serious in her intentions.

“I'd love to see your herd.”

His gaze widened epically and Faith choked on her breath. Had she just invited herself over to his property? Heat flared to her cheeks.

To her surprise, he nodded. “Sure. Why not? If you don't have any other plans this afternoon, we can head on over there after we've finished eating. Give you the opportunity to see a working ranch in action and get up close and personal with a real, live horse.”

“Excuse me?” she huffed. “I've been around horses, thank you very much—and ranches, too. I worked at a ranch every summer while I was in college, and since I graduated, I've been volunteering weekends at Mustang Mission. I'm not the greenhorn you seem to think I am.”

“Your shoes would suggest otherwise.”

She chuckled. “Hey. I wasn't planning to go riding today. I'm new in town. I had to guess at the dress code. For all I knew this auction would be a black-tie event. Were we in a larger metropolitan area it probably would have been tuxes and cocktail dresses.”

A rich, deep laugh rumbled through his chest. “In Serendipity, honey, we have exactly two dress codes. Go-to-church clothes and everything else. If you ever have a doubt, dress casual.”

He tipped his hat and her heart purred. This was where she wanted to be. In the country, with real horses, real cowboys and a real chance to make a difference. Not back home where no one—except her friends at Mustang Mission—seemed to understand what she wanted to achieve.

This was
home
. She felt it in every fiber of her being.

Now she just had to convince her new neighbors—and the possibly hostile cattle community—that she and her mustangs belonged there.

Chapter Two

J
ax's phone trilled. He slipped it out of the plain black leather case he wore on his belt, glanced at the number and scowled.

Susie.

“Now why would she...?” The rest of his sentence trailed off into puzzled silence. He grimaced. His ex-wife was the last person he wanted to talk to, especially today. Faith had somehow, although he had no idea how, gotten him out of his own head for a while. He'd actually been enjoying himself for a change, and that had happened far too little in his life in the nine months since Susie left him.

Count on Susie to dump ice water on his good mood. Without even answering the phone, he sensed she was about to completely ruin what up until now had been a perfectly good day.

It just figured.

He cupped his hand over the receiver and flashed Faith an apologetic shrug.

“Excuse me just a moment, will you, Faith? I'd better take this. It's my ex-wife on the line.”

“Of course,” she said with an encouraging smile. “Take all the time you need.”

He strode a few steps away from Faith and held the phone to his ear, trying not to grit his teeth when he spoke.

“Did you need something?” Jax didn't bother with pleasantries. He couldn't imagine what she wanted. He'd already done what he could for her. He hadn't contested the divorce, hadn't protested the way she'd taken almost everything of value from the house when she left, hadn't even argued over the amount of money she'd taken from their shared accounts—though he remained deeply grateful that the ranch's accounts were separate and that she hadn't been able to access them. She'd drained away everything she could from him, including his confidence and pride, until the love he'd once felt for her had withered into dust. He had nothing left to give her.

So why was she contacting him now?

“Are you at the house?”

“No, I'm not.” He started to tell her he was at the auction but then cut his words short. His shoulders tightened with strain and his gut squeezed so forcefully he could barely breathe. He didn't have to answer to her, not about his whereabouts or any other part of his life.

Besides, Susie didn't even live in Serendipity anymore. She despised the small town in which she'd been born and raised. She probably didn't even know about the auction, seeing as it was the first—and Jax hoped
only
—one ever.

“Why are you asking? Are you in town? Do you need to see me for something?” Had there been some kind of legal hang-up? He hoped not. He'd thought the divorce was a done deal.

“Go home. Now.”

“What?” Jax asked, his voice a low rumble. He didn't care for the way she was ordering him around.

“Just go.” She sounded a little desperate.

“Wait—” Heat flared through him in a flash of foreboding and he muttered something unintelligible under his breath. “Susie? Susie?”

Dead air met his ear and he glanced at the face of his phone. She'd hung up on him. Tried to boss him around and then hung up on him. He growled and pressed the redial button but the call went straight to voice mail.

“Are you okay?” Faith asked when he returned to the picnic blanket and slumped to his knees, bracing his hands on his thighs and breathing raggedly. Her gaze looked troubled, though why she should care was beyond him.

He lifted his hat by the crown and shoved his fingers through his thick, unmanageable hair, then replaced it and pulled the brim low over his eyes to shadow his scar.

“Yeah,” he answered with a clipped nod. His pulse was still thundering and the notion that something was amiss continued to hover over him like a storm cloud. “Well, no. Not really. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure.”

She remained silent while Jax worked through his thoughts, her gaze more compassionate than curious. He appreciated that she didn't try to push him to speak before he was ready.

Go home. Now.

He thought about just ignoring Susie's words and going back to his very pleasant picnic, but there was something off in her tone. Desperate. A sharp edge in his gut nagged at him, obliging him to change his plans.

“I hate to rush you, but would you mind if we pack up our picnic and take off now?”

“Sure thing,” she said, reaching for the plastic lids to cover the leftover potato salad and baked beans. “Not a problem. I hope everything is okay.”

“Thanks.” He was already haphazardly folding the checked tablecloth and stuffing it into the picnic basket along with the plates and napkins Faith handed to him. His ex-wife's words echoed through him, rattling his cage.

He frowned. He wouldn't give her the gratification of knowing how rough these months had been. He wasn't certain he could face her now, but that's what she must have meant—that she was waiting for him at the house. But if she had something to tell him, why couldn't she have just said it over the phone?

Faith touched his forearm. When he turned and met her gaze, she was looking at him expectantly. Clearly, she'd asked him a question and he hadn't responded.

It wasn't the first time he'd found himself in this position. He floundered through the options but came up with too many possibilities for him to narrow down. What had she asked him about?

The auction? The picnic? His ex?

He generally tried to stay on the offensive when it came to his hearing deficiency. After his accident he'd lost nearly 100 percent of his hearing in his left ear. He'd become proficient at lipreading and responding to subtle body-language cues. Most of the time it was enough to get by, although he hated that he occasionally gave the wrong answer or said something that didn't fit in the conversation.

It was an embarrassing disability and one he didn't like to talk about. Few in town even knew about it.

His family—his mom and his two brothers, Nick and Slade—were patient with him, understanding his dilemma. He'd become kind of a recluse after the accident—after Susie left. He emerged only for Sunday services at church and the occasional necessary trip to town for supplies. He was quick to leave church right afterward, not staying around to socialize, and he'd quit stopping in at Cup O' Jo's Café to catch up on the news.

“I'm sorry, what?” he asked Faith after an extended pause, smiling apologetically and hoping she wouldn't catch on to his disability. It was bad enough having hearing loss without having to talk about it. Though he'd kept his condition mostly secret, he knew that deafness—even only partial deafness—made many folks uneasy.

“I asked if you'd rather that I make my visit to your ranch another day. It sounds like you've got your hands full right now.”

He immediately shook his head. “No. Please. I'm anxious to show you my herd.”

He did want to show her his prize-winning horses, but at the moment he just felt the overwhelming need for backup in case Susie was there. Better not to be alone in that case. Having someone else around might keep her from making a scene. He could ask one of his brothers, but there was no sense interrupting their day when Jax and Faith had already made plans together.

Besides, it was probably nothing.

“Okay, then. I'll come with you,” she said, her voice just a hair too high and bright. “If you don't mind my asking, though—why the sudden hurry?”

“My ex-wife just called. Said I needed to hurry home. Honestly, I don't know what she's up to, but I figured I'd better find out.”

“I see.” Faith nodded, but thankfully didn't ask any more probing questions to which he didn't have any answers.

They loaded the picnic basket in the bed of Jax's truck and drove back toward his ranch. He clenched his fists on the steering wheel and forced himself to breathe evenly, concentrating on tamping back the fury burning in his chest. He thought he was over feeling
anything
when it came to Susie. He'd been on his knees dozens of times praying he could forgive her for the hurt she'd caused him.

Apparently, he hadn't prayed hard enough.

He barely registered it when he turned into the long gravel driveway that housed the Circle M ranch. His mother, Alice, a recent widow, lived in the main ranch house, while Jax and Nick held separate residences on the land, smaller cabins that better fit their bachelor status. Slade had moved to the Beckett ranch next door when he'd married Laney.

He pulled up before his cabin, expecting to see Susie's red AWD parked in front, or worse yet, a courier with more unpleasant papers to sign. He scanned the area for an unfamiliar vehicle but didn't find one. He'd seen a truck kicking up dust on the road that led to the Circle M, but it hadn't occurred to him that it might be Susie. He'd seen only the back of the relatively new blue pickup, but now that he thought about it, it had appeared to be exceeding the speed limit on its way out of town.

Great. What was Susie up to, anyway? He was going to be good and angry if she'd pulled him away from the picnic and the nicest day he'd had in—well, he couldn't remember how long—for no good reason.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was
good and angry
now.

He hopped out of the cab and hurried around to open up the door for Faith. It wasn't just that his mama had taught him to be a gentleman. With those ridiculously high heels she was wearing, she was bound to take a digger if she tried to get down by herself. He was having a hard enough day without becoming responsible for the impractically dressed woman twisting her ankle.

She smiled up at him gratefully as he grasped her tiny waist and lifted her from the cab. She reached for his shoulders to maintain her balance, and his hands lingered on her waist.

Their eyes met and held, and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of rose before she cleared her throat and stepped away from him, her gaze shifting from his face to the front of his cabin.

“What a lovely place,” she complimented. “Your cabin looks like it belongs in a magazine.”

He cringed inwardly. It only now occurred to him that he might not want to invite her inside. He couldn't remember if he'd picked up his laundry or not, and he had a bad habit of leaving his soiled socks where he shed them, not to mention a week's worth of dirty dishes he had piled in the sink. He didn't have a dishwasher and usually got to washing the dishes only when he didn't have anything left to eat on.

He was busy formulating a reasonable explanation for the mess inside when Faith's eyes widened and her mouth made a perfect O. And she hadn't even seen his dirty laundry yet.

“Jax?” She whispered his name like a question, her voice sounding like sandpaper, not at all the sweet, high, smooth timbre she'd used earlier in the day.

The warning in her tone sent a ripple of apprehension down his spine. Slowly he turned, afraid to see what had so obviously shaken her. He wouldn't put anything past Susie at this point.

Oh, dear Lord, no.

His gut clenched as he gasped for air and a proverbial sideswipe to his jaw sent him reeling.

No. It couldn't be. It could. Not. Be.

Jax blinked and scrubbed a hand down his face.

Were his eyes deceiving him?

Impossible.

Even if he was blind as a bat, and even though his hearing was half what it used to be, there was no mistaking the sound of distinctive, distraught mewling coming from two tiny swaddled infants, bundled into their car seats and blocking the front door of his cabin.

Babies?

He took the steps two at a time and crouched before the baby on his left, gently adjusting the pink blanket covering her and making what he hoped were calming shushing noises. His expertise was horses. He knew zero about babies.

She was incredibly tiny next to his large palm. So vulnerable. So defenseless. He swallowed hard.

How long had they been here,
alone
, where any number of ills could befall them?

The—
babies
.

Fury roared and blazed like a wildfire in his chest. Susie had left two helpless infants on his front porch? She was going to answer for this. She'd always been irresponsible and often acted with poor judgment, but this went far beyond the pale even for her.

“Jax?” Faith asked again, her voice faltering. She knelt before the other baby, presumably also a girl, given the identical pink blanket tucked around her, and gently rocked the seat to calm the infant. “Are these...?”

“I don't—I'm not—” Jax stammered, his head spinning. He considered himself calm and rational. His emotions rarely got the better of him. But right now he was fighting with every ounce of his courage against succumbing to the conflicting feelings pelting him—a lone unarmed man against an army of men with razor-sharp swords and blistering bows and arrows.

Shock. Surprise. Anger. Betrayal. Guilt. Pain.

Wonder.

Were these...? Could it be that these precious little pieces of humanity were...?

His heart welled and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He couldn't lose it now. He just couldn't.

He stood abruptly, and the baby at his feet protested with a wail. She had a nice, healthy pair of lungs on her, and Jax winced, then crouched back down and rocked the car seat as Faith was doing.

Where was Susie? How could she possibly have just
left
these babies behind without an explanation? He had a million questions to ask her, and he wanted to tell her exactly what he thought of her inconceivably selfish behavior. He'd never actually throttle a woman, even Susie, but the thought did cross his mind, to shake a little sense into her.

How could she?

How could she keep such an enormous secret from him? If these were, in fact, his daughters...

She'd kept his
children
from him, kept him from knowing they even existed. They were probably no more than a month old—not that he could guess with any accuracy. She should have told him she was pregnant as soon as she
knew
she was pregnant. He should have been there when the babies were born.