Jax yanked the last corner of a yellow fitted crib sheet over the mattress until it finally slipped into place. He grunted with satisfaction.
One crib down, one to go, and finally the twins would be able to graduate from the bassinet and into the cribs in their nursery. In the three weeks since they’d been dropped on his doorstep, Rose and Violet had flourished. They were already growing like nobody’s business, and Jax couldn’t be prouder.
From her view in a nearby bouncy chair, Rose babbled at him as if providing him with instructions, her chunky arms pumping in delight. Violet, whom Jax had quickly recognized as the quieter of the two twins, sucked on her tiny fist and stared at him with her wise brown eyes.
It was hard to believe that he ever had had trouble telling these two beautiful babies apart. Now he recognized both on sight and could tell one from the other as much by personality as by looks.
“You think so, huh?” he asked, addressing Rose. He chuckled. Look at him, talking to a newborn baby as if she could understand his words. As if he understood her replies.
In the most peculiar way, he kind of did. In the three weeks he’d had the children, he’d learned how to interpret their sounds and cries. He could differentiate between whether they were wet, needed a bottle or if their little tummies were hurting them.
Sometimes it was none of the above. Sometimes they were scared or lonely and just wanted to be held, and he was okay with that. He liked snuggle time. One cowboy and two babies didn’t seem like much of a fair match, but he thought he was managing surprisingly well, all things considered, and even more surprising, enjoying every minute of it.
This was uncharted territory, after all.
Most folks had nine months to prepare for a newborn. He hadn’t had a single second, which explained why he was just now completing the transition of his spare room into a nursery. His mother had decorated the place with pink frilly curtains and pink and white kittens on the wall. He drew the line at pink crib sheets and had chosen a more neutral yellow color.
A man could take only so much pink, after all.
Like Jax, Faith was treading new ground. He often thought about her out there all by herself with her horses. He still meant to find her a couple of teenage wranglers. It had been on his to-do list since day one, but he simply hadn’t found time, what with taking care of the twins and all.
He’d been over to Faith’s place a few times over the past weeks, not so much out of obligation as curiosity. She had officially released him from his commitment to her, so that wasn’t a factor, and yet he kept finding reasons to go visit her.
Untamed Mustang Refuge, she’d named the place. She planned to advertise the moniker with a large post sign at the front of the driveway, but paying for something like that would be a long time out yet. She did have funds—she’d explained to him about all the money she’d saved over the years, looking forward to this dream—but she was spending it only on things that directly benefited the horses. Stubborn woman still refused to put any time and effort into her own house or any part of her property that wasn’t specifically mustang related.
She was all about her horses. He had to give her that.
“I hope you and your sister grow up to be as tough and resilient as Faith Dugan,” he told Rose as he picked her up and offered her a bottle.
Every time he’d come by to visit her, she’d been out with the mustangs—mending fences, pitching hay and toting water from the well pump to the trough. Hard labor, especially for a woman who, for the past few years, had been able to do this kind of work only by volunteering a few hours a day on weekends. Nonstop physical work, day in and day out, was new to her. He’d noticed the blisters on her hands and the sunburn on her cheeks. But she never complained, and she never slowed down. Nothing put her off course. He wouldn’t be surprised if she ate her own meals out in the meadow with her mustangs.
With his help, and the aid of Nick and Slade, who’d come out a few more times, she’d managed to mend most of the major fences around her property, although it would still be some time before she would be able to address every beam and pole on her thousand-acre spread. But she’d done enough to give the mustangs plenty of room to safely run.
Willow was already looking markedly better. Her ribs weren’t showing as much, and her coat was quickly regaining its shine. Faith had mentioned something about adding to her herd soon—well, a mare and a foal hardly constituted a herd, but he knew what she meant.
His lips curved upward and he shook his head. He didn’t know why thinking about Faith and her hobby horses made him smile. It just did.
She did.
His phone rang, and he fished it from its holster, expecting it to be his mom or one of his brothers checking up on him. They’d all been hovering over him the past few weeks to the point where he was beginning to wonder if they all thought he was completely inept at being a father.
He glanced down at the screen, and his gaze widened.
Faith?
Why was she calling him? He’d given her his number in case she wanted to consult him about any of her ranch projects, but she’d never reached out to him.
“Hey, Faith. What’s up?” he asked, shifting Rose to the crook of his elbow and propping the bottle with his chin while he used his other hand to hold his phone to his ear. Violet fussed from her chair, so he bounced it with one foot. All he needed was a stick and a plate to balance on the other foot and he’d be a regular circus act.
“Jax!”
The panic in Faith’s voice brought him to instant alertness. Electricity popped through him. He must have jerked his head, because the bottle slipped from under his chin, hit the floor by his boots and rolled underneath the crib.
He grumbled something unintelligible.
“What’s the matter?” He stooped and reached for the bottle. Rose screeched her discontent. Even Violet jumped into the fray, and he went from feeling as if he finally had it together with the twins to a total loss of control in half a second.
And then there was the woman on the other end of the line. Faith sniffled and swept in a shaky, audible breath. Jax’s protective instinct sparked to life and swirled through his chest, lodging in his throat.
“What’s wrong?” he asked again when she didn’t immediately answer.
“I’m s-sorry. I can hear that you have your hands full with your babies. I just—I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Faith.” He stated her name firmly and calmly. She had to get her emotions under control, or he would never be able to figure out what was going on with her. “Tell me what has you so flustered.”
“I called the vet but he’s out of town.”
“A problem with one of the horses, then?”
“Yes, I—” She paused and hiccupped. “My new stallion. Fuego. I only just brought him and a couple of other horses up to the ranch over the weekend. I thought everything was going remarkably well. The herd accepted him immediately as their leader and he acknowledged them as his band. But then today—well, I’m trying to build a shelter in the front meadow so the horses have plenty of shade. There’s lumber everywhere. I didn’t even think about...”
Again she paused. He lowered his brows. She wasn’t making any sense.
“The herd usually keeps its distance, especially when I’m working on a project. I’m not very good with a hammer and I make an awful racket. So it didn’t even occur to me to worry about closing the gate to the front meadow. And then Fuego—I don’t know why, I didn’t provoke him, but he charged me. Straight through the pile of lumber.”
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, already buckling a still-crying Rose into her car seat and tucking her bottle into the nearby diaper bag.
Adrenaline pounded through him at the thought of Faith being injured. Wild stallions were nothing to mess around with, and Faith had no one out there to keep her safe. She loved those silly horses so much, he knew she’d put herself into the path of danger before she risked hurting one of the mustangs.
Just how bad had it gotten this time? He clung to the thought that she was well enough to call him—and that she was allowing herself to ask for help. It was a start.
He only hoped she wasn’t too late in asking.
“Me? No. No. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” She sounded confused that he’d even asked the question. “The thing is, Fuego never made it to me. His hooves got tangled up in some lumber, and he fell onto his back. He’s not getting up, Jax. What if he—Oh, Jax, I—”
Jax’s jaw tightened with strain. He hoped the stallion wasn’t as bad off as all that, but if the injury was as serious as it sounded, this was going to be an especially rough day for Faith, who wasn’t ready for the harsher realities of ranch life. Putting down an injured animal was a difficult but sometimes necessary part of living in the country.
Sometimes the best thing for the animal was the hardest for the human being involved.
Especially a woman with a heart as sweet and tender as Faith’s.
He clenched his jaw. He hated to be the one who might have to introduce her to the severe side of the life she’d chosen for herself, but it couldn’t be helped.
She needed him. Now more than ever.
“I’ll be right over.”
“Thank you.”
“And Faith?”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t do anything until I get there. Do you understand? Stay right where you are and don’t move.” Pictures of Faith being taken down by a terrified, injured stallion flashed across his mind.
“Yes, Jax. I will. Just please. Hurry.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He couldn’t get to Faith’s ranch fast enough. His mother was out shopping in San Antonio, and there was no time to call in his brothers, so he was on his own with the twins. He strapped Violet into her car seat, then jogged around the house frantically grabbing whatever baby items he thought might be necessary and jamming them in the diaper bag. He slipped the strap over his head and onto one shoulder and grabbed both car seats, one in each hand.
It took him longer than he would have liked to figure out how the car seats snapped into the base. He really should have paid more attention when his mother was showing him how it was done, but until now she’d always been there to help him.
Once on the road, he forced himself to drive the speed limit for the twins’ sake, but his heart was thumping heavily in his chest like the beat of a clock. The stallion’s condition might be worsening with every second that went by—and that was to say nothing about Faith’s safety.
She’d promised him she’d wait for him to get there, but he knew it couldn’t be easy for her, standing around and doing nothing while one of her beloved horses suffered.
He was afraid the worst part was yet to come.
* * *
Faith breathed a huge sigh of relief when Jax strode up, a car seat in each hand and a diaper bag slung over his shoulder. She’d never been happier to see someone in her entire life. To think he’d dropped everything and rushed over with two babies in tow. Gratitude welled in her chest, mixing with the anxiety already lurking there.
She felt horribly guilty that she’d had to interrupt his day with his children, but she hadn’t been joking when she’d said she knew of no one else to call. It was the first time she’d truly felt alone on her ranch.
And worse than that—helpless.
She’d almost had a heart attack when Fuego had gone down, and the sound he made—She hoped she’d never have to hear anything like that ever again.
He’d rolled from side to side a couple of times, snorting and flailing his legs, but in the end he hadn’t stood up. He’d shaken and shivered and whinnied in distress but had not regained his footing.
Faith feared for the worst.
What if Fuego’s leg couldn’t be mended, even with surgery? She’d have to put the beautiful silver stallion down, and it would break her heart. Nothing she’d ever experienced on a ranch could have prepared her for a situation like this.
Jax would know how to proceed. He would be able to determine if the stallion could be saved. She trusted him to do what was best.
Big, strong, solid, dependable Jax.
He hesitated, glancing down at his daughters, fast asleep in their seats. “Can you watch these two sweethearts while I—” He gestured to the half-built shelter. “I’d rather keep them safely away from the drama, if you don’t mind.”
When she nodded, he placed the car seats in the shade next to the barn and strode toward Fuego, a frown creasing his brow. He stood silently for a few moments, his hands on his hips, evaluating the stallion.
She didn’t know what she expected—for Jax to run straight for the horse and help the stallion regain his feet on sheer strength alone? Was that even possible?
Jax was a large man, but even he didn’t have enough muscles to lift a thousand-pound animal, especially a frightened one that would be thrashing and aggressive. She thought maybe he might examine Fuego’s legs with his hands to try to determine if there was any serious damage, but if he got that close, then he’d run the risk of getting kicked by those vicious hooves.
He didn’t try to right the horse, nor did he check Fuego’s legs for wounds. Instead, he slowly and steadily walked around the lumber pile, occasionally pushing a beam aside with his boot. He assessed the situation without approaching the wild-eyed animal. He spoke to the horse in the rich, lyrical tone Faith now thought of as his horse-whisperer voice, although she knew he would pitch a fit if she ever said such a thing out loud. But that was what it was. It reassured and calmed even the most frightened or spooked of horses.
Even with Jax there, Faith wasn’t convinced all would be well with Fuego, but her heart responded peculiarly to the tenor of his voice. It had the same effect on her as it had on the horse. Calming. Hypnotic. Lulling her pulse to a gentler, steadier rhythm.
He crouched by the horse’s head and stroked its neck. Fuego thrashed and made another terrifying, heart-rending squeal. Jax adjusted his position so he wouldn’t get kicked but left his hand on the stallion’s shoulder.
“Easy there, boy,” he coaxed. “You’ve got yourself into a real pickle this time, haven’t you? Serves you right for trying to charge a pretty woman. You should know better. Just be your handsome self and the women will come to you.”
The horse slowly stilled under the sound of Jax’s voice. “Let’s have a look at those legs, shall we?”
Violet made a mewling sound that caught Faith’s attention. She guessed the baby had been woken by Fuego’s disturbance. She unbuckled the infant’s car seat and sheltered the infant in her arms.
The act of soothing the child had the additional benefit of calming her, as well.
“Your daddy came to the rescue,” she informed little Violet in a whisper. “He’ll be able to help Fuego. I know he will.”
She stared down at the wide-eyed infant, and her heart welled with compassion for the little one. “I know your life hasn’t always been ideal, but you’ve got your daddy now. He’ll do right by you, you know. And you’ve got—” She stopped herself before she could say the words hovering on her lips. You’ve got me.
No.
These two little girls were coming to mean so much to her—too much. But she could not let herself get involved, not without risking her whole world imploding.
Hadn’t she learned anything from last time?
With effort she willed her emotions back, folding them up and tucking them deep inside her heart. She would not come to care meaningfully for these children. She could not. They would be a neighbor’s children and that was all. She had no place in their lives and they had no place in hers. And neither did their father.
She’d called upon Jax because he was an expert with horses and because he was still one of only a few townspeople she’d met so far. In an emergency—and this definitely qualified as one—she hadn’t known whom else to call.
It had nothing to do with the spark of attraction that surfaced between them every time their eyes met. It wasn’t because the reflection in his gaze suggested that the chemistry she felt might be reciprocated. It wasn’t because of his tenderness or thoughtfulness, nor even that he’d offered his time and talents even when she’d assured him it wasn’t necessary for him to do so.
And it had nothing to do with the way he’d dropped everything to come to her rescue.
What sent a jolt of dread skittering from nerve to nerve until her whole frame was quivering was the way she couldn’t stop her chest from expanding when she gazed down at Jax’s two precious infants.
She didn’t dare make a connection, come to care for these tiny pieces of humanity. These soft, sweet, innocent twins.
She wiped a hand across her suddenly wet eyes.
No. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t become involved.
She had her reasons—good ones—and one of them was Jax himself, embroiled in a bizarre and complicated relationship with his ex-wife.
And then she had her own issues. She knew her limits. Caring too much was her Achilles’ heel. It invariably got her in trouble.
She invested her heart in the wrong places—in the wrong people. It had taken an utter heartbreak for her to learn that hard truth, and it was the reason she had chosen to go it alone with her wild-horse rescue.
Except she wasn’t going it alone.
Jax was here.
He’d turned his attention from the stallion to the piles of timber surrounding him, hemming him in. Still speaking in low murmurs, he moved beam after beam, tossing them to the side to give Fuego more room to move.
Why hadn’t she thought to do that?
He’d nearly cleared a path for the stallion when suddenly the horse neighed loudly and rolled, unaided and snorting, to his feet. He shook his mane and bucked twice.
Faith breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly Fuego’s legs weren’t broken. All was well.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the stallion put down his head and charged. Faith’s adrenaline roared to life, and yet events seemed to unfold in slow motion.
“Jax!” she screamed.
Jax had his back to the horse. He didn’t even see it coming. He dropped the beam he was holding and half turned toward her—and away from the horse. She’d unwittingly made his situation worse.
Fuego hit Jax with a momentum that would have sent most men sprawling in the dirt. It was almost as if Jax sensed the thousand-pound collision just moments before it happened. He ducked and dodged to the side.
The horse hit his left shoulder. Jax staggered and his hat hit the dirt, but he kept on his feet in the shuffle, running several steps to regain his balance.
Faith’s heart was beating frantically in her ears.
Oh, Jax.
He could very easily have been trampled under the powerful stallion’s hooves, and all because she’d messed up. She was the one who had placed the lumber where the horses could potentially hurt themselves. Jax wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.
Another epic failure in a long stream of them, it seemed, one of many in the weeks since she’d arrived in Serendipity. Compared with her much smaller list of accomplishments, she was feeling rather low and pathetic. And she needed to apologize to Jax once again.
It was becoming a habit she would rather break.
Jax stooped to retrieve his hat, and Faith realized that Rose had woken. Both babies were howling in protest, playing off each other to see who could cry the loudest. Her attention had been so rapt on the interplay between Jax and Fuego that she hadn’t even heard the poor darlings.
It was no surprise that they were bawling. In pure terror, Faith had just screamed their father’s name loud enough to wake the entire town, and these poor little babies were well within hearing distance.
No infant should have to wake up to that.
“It’s okay, my sweethearts,” she cooed. She considered trying to remove Rose from her car seat, but she was already holding Violet, and it would be difficult to unlatch the buckle with one hand. Plus she’d have to juggle two babies at once, which she wasn’t certain she could do.
She could only imagine Jax’s learning curve with his twins. How did he manage caring for two babies at once?
For the first time since she’d arrived in Serendipity, she regretted that her house was a certified wreck. It wasn’t fit for adult visitors, much less a couple of newborn babies. She couldn’t invite them in and let the little ones down on the floor anytime soon.
Jax flashed a smile at Faith as he reached the barn and effortlessly scooped Rose into his arms. Rose immediately quieted, even before he spoke to her.
“It’s okay, little darlin’,” he murmured, brushing a soft kiss over her downy forehead. “Daddy’s fine. Fuego is fine. Everything is okay now.”
Faith breathed a silent prayer of gratitude.
Jax turned to plant a kiss on Violet’s forehead, and Faith’s gaze narrowed on the sleeve of his navy blue T-shirt. Fabric hung in tatters over the shoulder and a copper-red stain was spreading in uneven patterns across the surface.
Faith gasped and reached for his elbow to still him. “Jax! You’re not fine. You’re bleeding.”