Читать книгу The Cowboy's Twins - Deb Kastner - Страница 9
ОглавлениеThere was only one conceivable reason why Jax McKenna would ever consider putting himself at Serendipity, Texas’s Bachelors and Baskets auction like a mule among thoroughbreds—and it wasn’t because his loudmouthed brothers, Slade and Nick, were forcing him into it.
Nor was it the sweet talking of Jo Spencer, the spry, seventy-something redhead who owned the town’s only public eatery, Cup O’ Jo’s Café. She was the one who’d organized the event in the first place and she was pretty much capable of talking anyone into anything—but it hadn’t been necessary this time. Not with Jax.
They all might think they were strong-arming him, but if he hadn’t ultimately made the final decision to do this, he wouldn’t be here, and no amount of coercing or cajoling on their part would have seen him do otherwise.
He’d made the choice to be here because the fundraiser was important to him. He’d do his bit to help it succeed, even if it meant humiliating himself in front of the town. But that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
He scoffed quietly and glared at Slade, whose lips twitched to keep back a grin. Jax’s scowl deepened.
“Settle down, people. Settle down.” Jo spoke directly into the microphone, cringed at the earsplitting feedback and flipped it off. It wasn’t as if she needed the thing. Her voice easily carried across the distance of Serendipity, Texas’s community green, where practically everyone in town had gathered for this event. “Time to get this party started.”
Jax crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. Since when was pure torture considered a festive occasion?
Today, apparently.
When the ruckus didn’t immediately subside, old Frank Spencer—Jo’s crotchety husband—put his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly. “Listen up, folks. The First Annual Bachelors and Baskets Auction is about to begin. Gather ’round, y’all.”
Jax crushed the toe of his tan cowboy boot into the soft grass, wishing he was anywhere else. Where did Jo come up with this silly idea, anyway? It wasn’t like any auction he had ever heard of, although he didn’t know why he was so surprised by the fact. Serendipity wasn’t exactly known for being normal with anything, especially with Jo Spencer at the helm.
What had started out as Jo’s simple if archaic idea to pawn off the single men for money had grown into something much larger and more complex. She might have originally set out to nab the town bachelors, but her idea had spun so far out of control that now nearly every man in town was lined up to strut his stuff, single and married alike. Now, the idea was that the women could bid on men for tasks instead of dates—with the tasks to be determined by the winning bidder.
Want someone to do the cooking for your barbecue party next weekend? Bid on the man with the secret-family-recipe barbecue sauce that he refused to share with a soul. Want someone to fix up that rusting old truck in your barn? Bid on the town mechanic, and he’ll get it running like new. Or go ahead and bid on your husband or sweetheart...and then put him to work. Jax had overheard one woman saying that when she won her husband, she was going to make him clean out the garage, the way he’d been promising to do for the past five years.
The new twist meant that anyone could participate, even if he was already married or dating. Apparently, Jo figured the more men, the more money would be raised, and Jax supposed there was some truth to that. He just wished he wasn’t wrapped up in it. With this many men, did they really need him?
He scoffed under his breath. Tell folks they were meeting for a good cause and they showed up in spades. Actually, just tell people there was a party. Any reason to celebrate was reason enough for Serendipity, and the fact that the auction was to benefit the building fund for the new town council–approved senior center and hospice was icing on the cake. It was a good cause—one close to his heart, which was the only reason Jax had come out this morning.
Not to be outdone, the ladies in town had started offering to bring picnic baskets to share with the men they won in the auction. Then the event had morphed into bachelors and baskets—which was catchy, even if it was far from accurate, since a good half of the men being auctioned off were married or in serious relationships. If nothing else, Jax was looking forward to the food. He never turned down a good meal. Delicious, down-home country cooking. Too bad he had to put himself through such a ridiculous spectacle just to be able to fill his belly.
Slade nudged Jax with his elbow. “Who do you think is gonna bid on you?”
“How should I know?” Jax snapped derisively. He didn’t expect much. He didn’t expect anything at all. Most likely he was going to stand up on the stage and make a fool of himself for nothing. No woman in her right mind would bid on his ugly mug, no matter how worthy the cause.
“I can’t wait to eat Laney’s picnic lunch. She packed fried chicken.” Slade licked his lips in an overstated motion that made Jax want to snort in exasperation. For a moment he wished he were Slade, who knew exactly whom he’d be spending the day with—his wife. Slade and Laney were expecting a child in the fall, a baby sister for two-year-old Brody, but they still acted like a couple of goofy newlyweds.
“You sure she’s gonna bid on you, baby brother?” Nick goaded, bumping Slade’s shoulder with his. “Maybe she’ll take your money and bid on a handsome man—like me, for example.” He chuckled.
Nick was a big bear of a man with a grouchy personality to match, but he knew how to turn on the charm when he wanted to and he was no slouch with the ladies. Laney might favor her own husband over Nick, but there was no doubt Nick would get his fair share of interest at the auction. He’d get bid on, or bought or whatever crazy word they were using for it.
Slade winked and flashed his wedding ring at his brothers. “I have it on good authority that it’s a done deal.”
Jax wanted to slug the self-satisfied look right off Slade’s face. Just because he was happy with his married life didn’t mean the rest of the world had to suffer his gloating. Especially when Slade knew that the topic of marriage was still a tender wound for Jax right now.
Jo pounded a gavel—probably the same one her town-council president husband, Frank, used—on the podium in front of her.
“First up, I’d like to offer Slade McKenna to our viewing public.”
Slade flashed his brothers a confident grin and stepped onto the platform. He tipped his hat to the roaring crowd and then flexed his biceps for good measure.
Seriously? If anyone—anyone—thought Jax was going to get up on that stage and make a raging fool out of himself like his brother was doing...yeah, that was so not happening.
The crowd roared with delight, hooting and hollering. Actually encouraging Slade, as if he needed a bigger ego than he already had.
“Look at the strength in those shoulders,” Jo said, punctuating her statement with a hoot of her own. “Former bull rider and current member of our esteemed police force, Slade will pitch in and use that brawn and brute strength for any project of your choosing. Laney, dear, would you like to open up the bidding?” Jo suggested with a chuckle. “Surely you must want this handsome hunk all to yourself.”
Jax thought it was silly for Laney to bid on her own husband. Slade was pretty much at her beck and call anyway, and all she had to do was smile at him—it didn’t cost her a dime.
“Oh, I have the perfect project for him.” Laney jumped in without a moment’s hesitation. “Dishes and laundry for a month.”
Slade groaned. “Really?”
Jax chuckled. Served his brother right for being so cocky.
“Three hundred dollars,” Laney offered, already halfway up to the podium. There was no question that she was the clear winner of this particular item.
Alexis Haddon, a local rancher and part of the fundraising committee, stood at the foot of the stairs, waiting to pass a lariat to Laney.
“Make it a good one, darlin’,” Slade coaxed his wife with a sideways grin.
She whooped and swung the lariat toward Slade. Jax scoffed under his breath. Laney wouldn’t be able to rope the broad side of a barn with technique like that—or rather, total lack of technique.
She gave her best effort but the lariat soared a good couple of feet past Slade’s head. She yanked on the end of the rope in a vain attempt to correct her overthrow but to no avail. She would have come up empty-handed were it not for Slade’s quick thinking. He dived for the loop and slipped it over his head, then rolled toward her until he was completely wound up in the line.
“Guess you caught me,” Slade said, laughing with the crowd.
Jax shook his head. He had to give his little brother props for putting on a good show. Even when he was little he had loved to be in the limelight, the center of attention. Probably because he was the baby of the family.
Over the din, Frank stepped up to the podium and grabbed the gavel from Jo’s hand, pounding it against the podium. “Now, see here. Jo never even got to say he was sold yet, and y’all are already draggin’ him off the stage? Let’s have some order to these here proceedings.”
Jo snorted and grabbed the gavel back from him. “Go sit down, old man,” she demanded, giving his grizzled cheek an affectionate buss. “Everyone knew from the get-go that Slade’s wife was going to win him. Now you just be good and wait your turn, or your wife might just leave you a-hanging.”
Honestly, Jax didn’t know how Frank and Jo managed to live together without killing one another, but at the heart of it, their unconventional love for each other worked for them.
If Jax had had half the wisdom and foresight that this old couple shared, maybe his own marriage would have—
“Jax McKenna.”
The sound of his name pierced into his thoughts like a dart popping a balloon.
Nick gave him a none-too-gentle shove. “You’re up, bro. Go get ’em.”
“No, I—” Jax protested. He wasn’t ready to be paraded around like a piece of prime horseflesh. Not that he would ever be ready to face this moment, but he’d at least hoped to have a little more time to get used to the idea, to see how it went with some of the other guys before it was his turn to go.
With reluctant steps he dragged himself onto the platform, his jaw, his fists and his stomach clenched so tight he thought he might be sick. Folks were staring at him, and though the rational part of him knew that he was imagining it, he felt as if everyone’s gaze was glued to the ragged scar that ran from the corner of his mouth to his left temple.
He’d never been overly concerned about his appearance—at least not until after his face had been scarred in an accident and his wife, Susie, had left him for another man. The pain of his divorce was still too fresh for him to ignore, on top of the pain of the scars that marked him both inside and out, marring his features, badly damaging his hearing and shattering his confidence in himself. Everything combined to make participating in this auction all the more excruciating, no matter how good the cause.
He turned and started back the way he came. They had plenty of guys willing and able to compete in the auction. They would do just fine without him. He wouldn’t fetch much of a price, anyway.
“Jackson Daniel McKenna, you freeze right where you are.” Jax might be deaf in one ear, but that was no obstacle to Jo Spencer. Jax firmly believed her voice was loud enough and powerful enough to pierce through a stone wall, if she set her mind to it. And in this instance, it stopped him dead in his tracks. She was like a second mother to most of the town, Jax included, and her tone brooked no nonsense, making him feel as if he was a troublemaking five-year-old all over again.
“Turn your cute little fanny around and get on back over here, son. We need all the genuine bachelors we can get in this here auction. There might be a lady out there who’s just been waiting for an opportunity like this to get to know you, handsome fellow that you are.”
Jax flinched inwardly. He was one bachelor Serendipity could do without.
But denying Jo what she wanted? He couldn’t do that, especially in front of a crowd. He was painfully aware he was making an even bigger spectacle of himself by balking on the stage.
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, heading toward the front of the stage, dragging his feet with every step. When he got there, he stood stock-still, as if he was facing a firing squad. It kind of felt that way. There was no laughter or cheers this time, as there had been with his brother. That was fine by Jax. He might have to give in to Jo’s prodding, but he would not—not—flex his muscles the way Slade had done. He pulled the brim of his tan cowboy hat down lower over his eyes and jammed his hands in the front pockets of his blue jeans for good measure.
“Who is going to start the bidding for us today on this fine specimen of a man?” She gestured for him to pose like Slade had done but Jax ignored her. “Just look at the size of him. Which lovely young lady out there has some heavy lifting they need Jax here to do for them?”
The assembly was deathly silent—exactly as Jax had expected. No surprise there. He could hear his own breath, loud and ragged, scratching through the hush of the crowd.
He wanted to curl in on himself, but instead he straightened his shoulders. He wouldn’t cower, nor would he let anyone know how difficult this was for him. If he stood still long enough, the charade would play itself out and be over in a minute.
No one would bid on him. He’d swallow his pride and humiliation and go back to his ranch where he belonged. At least there he could find a semblance of peace among his award-winning herd of quarter horses, bred and trained for the rodeo circuit.
“Don’t tell me there’s not a-one of you ladies out there who needs a few chores done around your houses or ranches—something that requires a big, strapping man? Moving boxes, maybe? Bales of hay?”
Still nothing. Just the rustling sound of a few awkwardly shifting feet. A cough or two.
Jax caught Jo’s gaze, silently begging her to shoot him now and put him out of his misery. Honestly, he’d be willing to cough up a couple of hundred bucks out of his own pocket if it meant he could just walk away.
Jo frowned, lifted her chin and shook her head.
Stubborn old woman.
“I know most of y’all already know this about him, but he’s a wonder with horses. Top-notch. Anyone have a horse that needs training?”
This was ridiculous. Jax had had enough, and no doubt the crowd had, too. They were a nice enough bunch and they were probably feeling a whole lot of sorry for him right now.
Well, he didn’t want their pity.
“Five,” came a sweet, soft soprano located somewhere near the back of the crowd. Jax didn’t believe he recognized the woman’s voice, which was odd, since he knew most everyone in the small town.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Jo said, cupping a hand to her ear. “You’ll have to speak up. I couldn’t quite make out what you said.”
“Five,” the voice repeated, stronger and nearer to the platform now. “Hundred. Dollars. Five hundred dollars for the cowboy.”
Half a grand? For him?
Jax scanned the crowd until his gaze locked on the clearest, most sparkling hazel eyes he’d ever seen. The gaze belonged to a tall, lithe, blond-haired young lady who’d finally managed to work her way to the front of the crowd.
He’d definitely never seen her before. No way would he forget the kind of beauty she possessed. She looked as if she’d just walked off the cover of one of those fancy New York fashion magazines. Dressed that way, too, with a poofy purple scarf wound multiple times around her supple neck, a silky emerald shirt and designer jeans that emphasized her long legs but had definitely never seen the back of a horse. Most telling were her three-inch spiked heels that sunk into the soft grass with every step.
The woman actually had cash in her hand—five crisp Benjamin Franklins, which she waved in the air like a flag.
“Five hundred dollars,” she repeated for the third time. “But please, don’t make me lasso the poor man.”
* * *
The woman operating the cash box flashed Faith Dugan a welcome smile as Faith pressed five hundred-dollar bills into her palm. She hadn’t had time to visit the local branch of Serendipity’s bank to establish a checking account, and she felt awkward waving around that kind of cash. Apparently, she looked awkward, too—which she imagined was the reason all eyes were now upon her.
That and the fact that she was a newcomer in a crowd of people who had no doubt been born and raised in this town. Serendipity, Texas, wasn’t the kind of place folks moved in and out of. She was the exception. And she seemed to have shocked everyone by shelling out five hundred dollars for the brooding cowboy.
Faith wasn’t trying to impress anyone. She just needed help rebuilding her newly purchased ranch property, which she hoped soon would be a bona fide mustang rescue.
“You’re new in town?” the woman asked. “Jo mentioned we had a new resident. I’m glad to meet you. I’m Alexis Haddon. You’re going to love living in Serendipity.” To Faith’s surprise, Alexis pulled her into an exuberant hug, as if they were old friends. She’d had plenty of smiles and welcomes in the few days she’d been in town. Folks around here sure were outgoing and friendly. It was nothing like large, busy and somewhat impersonal Hartford, Connecticut, where she’d been born and raised.
“Thank you.” Faith hoped her response to Alexis’s hug didn’t appear as awkward as she felt. “I’m Faith Dugan. I just bought the Dennys’ old property.”
Excitement bubbled up inside her every time she thought about her plans for the place, but she bit her tongue to keep from bursting out her intentions. Now was hardly the time to get into her reasons for settling in town.
Alexis blew out a low whistle. “I’d heard that someone had picked up the place. You sure chose a fixer-upper. I hope you enjoy a challenge. Old man Denny was an eighty-five-year-old widower, and his health got so poor that he couldn’t work the place himself for the last ten years of his life. He didn’t have any family, and he was in a senior center in San Antonio for the last couple of years. His ranch just sat there vacant. Such a shame.”
Despite her eagerness for the project, Faith cringed inwardly at the reminder of the size of the task ahead of her. She’d been evaluating the ranch for repairs, but she’d hoped it wasn’t in quite as bad of shape as it seemed. Apparently, her assessment had been fairly accurate. There was a reason the asking price for the property had been well under market value. It was going to take a lot of work to get her new ranch into running condition so she could host the herd of wild mustangs she intended to save.
But that was fine—she was up for the challenge. She wasn’t going to let a little hard work put her off her dreams.
“People like Mr. Denny are the reason we’re holding the auction today,” Alexis went on. “So we can build a senior center and hospice here in town. Poor Mr. Denny wouldn’t have had to have spent his last years so far away from the town he was born and raised in if we’d had a facility available. It wouldn’t have made any difference to the state of his ranch, of course, but he could have come to church, spent time with some familiar faces. Serendipity folk like to take care of their own.”
“It’s a good cause,” Faith agreed, offering up a silent prayer for Mr. Denny, the poor man who’d died alone, far from his home. She knew what it felt like to be lonely.
“We appreciate your generosity, bidding in our auction,” Alexis continued with her vibrant, upbeat chatter, “especially since you’re a newcomer. I’m sure your neighbors will be around to introduce themselves to you if they haven’t already. Everyone is a friend here. As an added bonus, you’ve won Jax. You’ve made a good choice. He’s a big ol’ brute, but don’t let that scare you off. He has a heart of gold and those muscles of his were earned through hard labor. He knows ranching backward and forward. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of uses for him at the ranch.”
Faith wasn’t certain how Jax would feel about Alexis’s summation of his capabilities and value. Faith had a hard time picturing Jax with a heart of gold given the sheen of ice obscuring his dark brown eyes.
She didn’t require his heart for this job, nor did she have any interest in what color it was. What she needed was a pair of strong arms and maybe some good advice from someone who knew his way around a ranch. Jo had mentioned Jax was good with horses. If he could also pound nails and mend fences, so much the better.
She would have had to hire someone to do the work, anyway. How awesome was it that her money would be doing double duty? She’d get the help she needed—for a little while, anyway—and the town would get its senior center built.
Win, win.
Though poor Jax sure didn’t seem to think he’d won anything.
He definitely hadn’t looked as if he’d wanted to be standing on a platform hawking himself, but she was sure he hadn’t been able to say no to gregarious, winsome Jo any more than Faith had. It was Jo who had convinced her it would be worthwhile to attend the auction today, to bid for one of the local men to help her clean up her run-down property. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but in hindsight, she now decided she must have been clean out of her mind to have bid on a perfect stranger—one who had looked large and intimidating even from a distance.
Jax exited the stage, taking the stairs one slow step at a time, his gaze narrowed onto her and he frowned. The reluctance with which he moved to her side was palpable.
Now, as he approached her, intimidated didn’t even begin to cover what she was feeling. At five feet ten inches in her bare feet—and three inches taller than that at the moment, thanks to her heels—Faith wasn’t in any way diminutive. She was taller than most women and many men, but Jax towered over her.
Faith found it hard to believe that Jo had had the audacity to call him out by his given and middle names together, reminding her of the way a mother would scold an errant youngster climbing a tree. And right in front of the whole town, to boot. Jo and Jax must have a special relationship, because Faith had been shocked down to her shoes when Jax had turned around and returned to the platform just as Jo had asked.
Yet he was no wayward child. Far from it. If she had to guess, she’d put him a few years older than her own twenty-seven years. Thirty-ish. She judged him to be over two hundred pounds of raw muscle and a good six feet four inches tall, cartoonishly huge next to Jo’s five-feet-nothing. He dwarfed the friendly redhead.
Unlike the guy who’d come before him, he hadn’t even needed to flex for her—er—for the crowd to appreciate the strength of his broad shoulders and powerful biceps. Now in closer proximity, she inhaled the smell of him—all leather and raw man. Just the way he looked. The crazy thing was, that heady scent wasn’t unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact.
If it weren’t for the scar on his face, she’d have thought he’d walked right out of an advertisement for aftershave or something else meant to be rugged and manly. Though honestly, the ragged, puckered scar that slashed across the man’s temple didn’t bother her as much as the fact that he appeared to be glowering. Not at her, thankfully, but at a couple of sturdy cowboys standing together near the other side of the stage. The guy who’d been bid on first was there, his arm curved familiarly around his wife’s waist. The other fellow, a big bear of a man whom Faith immediately dubbed Grizzly Adams, was grinning as if he’d triumphed in a race.
Jax’s brothers, were Faith to guess. The family resemblance was striking in their similar strong features—the dark wavy hair and chiseled jaws.
Alexis gave Faith’s shoulder an encouraging pat and turned back to the auction, where the next bachelor had broken into an impromptu round of “Home on the Range,” presumably to impress the ladies with his vocal capabilities. Faith thought perhaps the guy should have chosen another talent to display. Singing in tune didn’t appear to be part of his skill set. To Faith’s ears, he sounded a bit like a crowing rooster, but she supposed it was the thought that counted. For some inexplicable reason the crowd was encouraging the poor bachelor, which only made him bellow all the louder.
She turned her attention to Jax. He was watching the guy on stage, but he didn’t appear to care one way or another about the assault on his ears. She observed him quietly, hoping to discern what he might be thinking by the look on his face. She could read nothing in his expression. It wasn’t empty so much as—hard. Frozen solid, like the frost in his eyes. His body language was equally as closed off, with his arms crossed over the bulk of his chest.
“So,” she said, not at all certain how to start a conversation with him. “I brought a picnic basket full of goodies so we can share lunch together.” She knew she was rambling but didn’t seem to know how to stop. “I thought Jo’s idea was a clever twist to the event, allowing everyone to participate in one way or another. Men, women, singles and married alike. Don’t you think?”
He didn’t respond, not even to acknowledge that she’d spoken to him. He hadn’t even bothered to turn his head in her direction.
“Jax?” She touched his elbow to get his attention.
He turned, his piercing, chocolate-brown eyes shifting to hers and widening in surprise, as if he’d forgotten she was there.
Maybe he had.
“I—er—” she stammered. “Did you want to stay and watch the rest of the auction?”
Jax snorted. “Thank you, no. I am so done with this stupid event.”
Faith smiled. “I thought you might be. I certainly wouldn’t want to have to put myself up for display on the auction block, but I appreciate your sacrifice for the sake of the senior center building fund.”
“Oh, believe me, I felt like a sacrifice. The lamb-to-the-slaughter kind.” Jax grinned, his smile made slightly crooked by the tension created by his scar, which pulled the left side of his mouth higher than the right. It would have looked a bit like a grimace, except that his eyes were gleaming with amusement. “Thanks for rescuing me.”
“My pleasure.” Her cheeks warmed. She couldn’t imagine why his words would make her blush. She swallowed and quickly recovered her composure. She pointed down the lawn. “I set my picnic basket under that oak tree over there. Are you hungry?”
A laugh that sounded a little bit like a growl emerged from deep in his chest. “I’m always hungry.”
Well, duh. She should have guessed that. Put fur on the guy and he could probably pass for Bigfoot. Of course he was hungry.
“I hope I packed enough.”
His right brow arched and the strained half grin returned.
She was already blushing, but now heat rushed to her face and spread to her cheeks like a wildfire. Had she just said those words out loud?
Open mouth, insert foot. Way to go, Faith. Insult the man ten seconds after meeting him.
She quickly tried to recover, feeling as if she were scrambling backward as she stammered her way through her sentence. “Oh, n-no. That’s not what I intended to say. My words didn’t come out right at all. I—I only meant—”
He held up one large work-calloused hand to stem the flow of her sputtering words. “It’s okay, ma’am. Whatever you’ve brought will be just fine, I’m sure. I’m not a difficult man to please.”
“Please call me Faith,” she urged, brushing her suddenly sweaty palms against the denim of her designer skinny jeans.
Acquiring new, more practical boot-cut jeans was on her priority list of things to do now that she was finally here in Serendipity. And as much as she loved her Jimmy Choos, her good pair of cowboy boots would have been much more sensible for the occasion. She was practically aerating the park grass with her three-inch spikes.
“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.
