Jax 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?
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.”
“Hey, who would tease you if I wasn’t around to do it?”
“Exactly my point.”
“Then I guess I’d better stay.”
“In one piece, thank you.”
“If you insist.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. “We need to talk.”
“Didn’t we start last night with this same conversation?”
His eyes widened. “I hope not. I thought you were going to dump me.”
“I was.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing that the fire interrupted us.” Jax paused and lifted his head. “Whoops. I forgot you have company.”
“Company?”
“Chief Jenkins. He said he was going to come up to the house after the fire department was finished on your land. He wants to give you a report of the damage. It’s not as bad as it could have been, but—”
“Jax. I can’t believe you didn’t mention this earlier. Here we are meandering along, and the fire chief is probably sitting on my front porch. What am I going to do? I can’t invite him inside. My house is...”
“Unlivable?” he supplied for her.
“I was going to say messy, but I guess unlivable is another way to put it.” She tossed the reins over Alban’s neck. “I’ve really got to go if he’s waiting.”
Jax sighed heavily and shrugged his shoulders as if he was carrying a great weight upon them. “Every time I think we have a minute to finally talk, something happens.”
“I know.” She blew him a kiss. “Tomorrow. I promise.”
They had a lot to talk about, but it was only after she’d ridden away that she realized she hadn’t told Jax the one thing that really mattered most.
She hadn’t said I love you.
* * *
She hadn’t said I love you.
Jax had hoped he might hear those words from her lips, especially after he’d bulldogged-slash-bronc ridden a wild stallion on her behalf.
She’d been grateful enough, and her kiss had been both sweet and thorough. Sweet and thorough enough to banish nearly all of his doubts about her loving him back, after all.
But she hadn’t said the words.
So did he wait until he was sure about her feelings before he proposed?
He didn’t want to wait. He wanted to get back up on that stupid makeshift auction block in front of the entire blinking town and announce over the loudspeaker that he’d fallen in love with one very pretty mustang rescuer.
But that was out, so he had to come up with something a little cleverer to surprise his hopefully soon-to-be bride. Something that he could share with the whole world and yet would be personal, just for her.
He had the perfect plan in mind, but it was going to take some juggling on his part to pull it all together. He started by talking to his mom, his brothers and Laney, who all agreed they couldn’t think of a better way for him to pop the question.
From there it was just a matter of spreading the word to everyone in Serendipity that Faith needed a bit of assistance around her ranch. It was actually Jax who needed the real help, but he couldn’t carry out his plans without the town’s full support.
Everyone had heard of the grass fire, so it was no great stretch to visit Cup O’ Jo’s and plant the seed in Jo’s ear that Faith’s house could really use an overhaul. And telling Jo was just about the same thing as telling the whole town. That woman could spread the word like nobody’s business. He arranged for everyone to meet at Faith’s ranch on Saturday, and on the off chance Faith visited town, asked his neighbors and friends to be hush-hush about it.
He wanted this to be the surprise of a lifetime.
He spent the week making lists and ordering materials. He even made a special trip into San Antonio for a ring. He still preferred to shop in Serendipity over a larger city, but a man had to make an exception once in a while, such as for the woman he loved.
He called Faith on Thursday evening to set the stage for the Saturday event. He wanted it to be a surprise, but he didn’t want to accidentally catch her airing her literal laundry or anything embarrassing like that.
He intended to tell her that he and the vet would be coming by to check up on the new filly, but when Faith answered the phone, he didn’t get past hello.
“Where have you been? I thought maybe Fuego caught up with you and stampeded you, after all.”
“What?”
“You were the one who said we needed to talk. Wasn’t that supposed to happen Monday?”
Jax frowned. His brain wasn’t catching up as fast as Faith was speaking. He was feeling all happy and giddy and barely able to contain himself from belting out his love for her, and she was mad at him?
“I—er—”
“You can say anything, Jax. That you got busy at the ranch. That the twins caught pinkeye. Just please give me one good reason why you’ve left me hanging for nearly a week, or I’ll hang up this phone right now.”
Because I’ve got a ring in my pocket?
No. He couldn’t tell her that. He wanted to tell her that, but it would ruin the surprise.
“I was busy. I am busy with something important that just couldn’t wait. I’ve got some—construction issues I’ve been dealing with. Nothing I’d want to bother you with.”
Until Saturday.
Her silence was deafening. It was worse than her expressing her hurt feelings.
“Look, I didn’t mean to neglect you. I forgot we even had something going on Monday.”
“Every week, Jax. Every single week you are over here all the time, helping out with the horses or fixing my fences or something. And then suddenly, this week of all weeks, when we’re supposed to sit down and have a serious discussion, you are gone, like you dropped off the face of the planet. What am I supposed to think?”
He didn’t know how to answer that question.
“You could have called me.”
“I shouldn’t have had to.”
He sighed. “You’re right. I should have called. But I’m not avoiding you.” He kind of was, but not for the reasons she thought. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Or don’t you trust me?”
She mumbled something under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Yes, Jax, I trust you. I’m asking myself why at this point, but I trust you.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“So are we ever going to have that talk, or have you moved on to bigger and better things?”
He started to laugh and then quickly smothered it.
Bigger and better things. Definitely.
“I called because I wanted to bring the vet out to see the little chestnut filly of Prada’s. You know, just to make sure she’s faring well?”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on her. She’s nursing well and Prada is a good mother. But I won’t say no to the vet taking a look at her.”
Whew. His ruse was going to stand, then. For a second there he’d been worried. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to do if she’d said no.
“Okay, I’ll see you Saturday morning. Say about seven o’clock? We can talk afterward if you’d like.”
“Sure. And Jax?”
“Hmm?”
“If you don’t mind, will you bring the babies? I miss them almost as much as I miss you.”
“Sure. I can bring the babies.”
And my family, and everyone else in town.
Jax hung up smiling.