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
