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

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

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

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

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

Go home. Now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The auction? The picnic? His ex?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Besides, it was probably nothing.

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

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

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

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

Apparently, he hadn’t prayed hard enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, dear Lord, no.

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

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

Jax blinked and scrubbed a hand down his face.

Were his eyes deceiving him?

Impossible.

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

Babies?

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

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

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

The—babies.

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

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

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

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

Wonder.

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

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

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

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

How could she?

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

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

He was their father. He had rights. Responsibilities. Privileges.

How dare she?

He fished out his phone and punched Susie’s number again, but not surprisingly, it went straight to voice mail. Again. She was avoiding him, as well she might, considering what she’d just done. Was she seriously just dumping a couple of babies on his doorstep and running away?

No. Not just a couple of babies.

His babies.

He didn’t know how he knew they were his children. Given Susie’s actions during the past year, their paternity might well be called into question, but his heart and his gut were telling him there was no doubt that he was the babies’ father. And not just because Susie had dumped them on his doorstep.

Overcoming every other emotion he was feeling, even the most heated ones, amazement and wonder and love warmed his chest, swirling and curling around and filling his heart full to the brim.

He was astounded by how instantly those feelings appeared and how strong they were. He’d woken up this morning a man who had been living practically like a hermit, deliberately isolating himself, mucking through the mire of his own despair.

Alone.

And now—

Now he was a father.

“Should we take them inside, do you think?” Faith asked hesitantly.

“What? Yes.” He’d nearly forgotten Faith was there, but he was grateful she was. He wasn’t even remotely capable of dealing with this crisis on his own, and her question proved it. He didn’t know what to do with one baby, never mind two.

Of course he needed to take the infants inside the cabin, and then...

What next?

He didn’t know the first thing about infants. Not what they ate, though presumably it was milk of some kind. Not how to get them to sleep, or even where they should sleep. It wasn’t as if he had a crib in his spare room. He didn’t even know how to change a diaper.

Faith stood and touched his shoulder. “You look lost.”

And frightened.

She didn’t say it, but they both knew it.

He met her empathetic hazel eyes and groaned. “I feel lost. Like on-another-planet lost. I don’t have a clue what I should do next. This is so beyond my realm of experience—almost beyond reality, actually.”

She nodded. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. It’s not every day a man learns he’s a father when his babies show up at his door. Let’s get these two little darlings in out of the heat and tend to their immediate needs, and then we can make a plan.”

She’d said we as if it were just a given that she’d be part of—whatever this was. Her voice teemed with compassion and confidence. He was grateful that she’d come to Serendipity and chosen it to be her home. He was glad he’d met her. It was no accident that she’d bid on him today.

He knew in his heart that as crazy as this whole thing was, the Lord was watching over him. Faith’s presence proved it. Even though she hadn’t known him for more than a few hours, she offered her support and was willing to stay with him—with them. He needed her here.

He unlocked the door to his cabin, and Faith held the screen door for him as he grabbed the handles of both of the car seats and carefully transferred the children—his children—indoors. He scanned the area for the best place to put the car seats and settled on the carpet between the front of the couch and the coffee table.

Faith followed with a diaper bag in her hand—which, in the shock and devastation of the moment, had escaped Jax’s notice. He supposed he should be grateful Susie had left him a modicum of supplies, but he was too angry to give her even that. He hoped she’d left a note giving him some idea of her state of mind—and the children’s names would be nice, at the very least.

He turned his attention to one of the babies while Faith took care of the other. It took him a moment to figure out the lock system on the car seat, and by the time he was ready to lift the infant out, Faith already had hers tucked safely in the crook of her arm and was smiling and making delightful cooing noises to the contented infant.

He’d finally managed to unhook the straps but hesitated in removing the tiny little human being from the seat. He didn’t know what he was doing. What if he accidentally hurt her?

“Support her neck with one hand and slide the other one behind her back,” Faith instructed, as if she knew what he’d been thinking.

“Right.” He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand down his jaw. This wasn’t going to get any easier by waiting, and unlike the infant Faith held, his baby girl was starting to fuss again.

He held his breath and slid his hand underneath her, trying to be gentle but feeling like a clumsy giant. His daughter was so tiny he could easily support her neck and back with one hand, but he didn’t take any chances. He followed Faith’s directions to the letter.

The baby was incredibly fragile, weighing next to nothing. He held her out in front of him and swallowed hard around the lump of emotion in his throat.

“She’s crying and yours isn’t,” he said, his voice scratchy. “What am I doing wrong?”

Faith chuckled. “You’re doing fine. Don’t worry about the fussing. Babies do that. She’s just communicating with you. Put her up against your shoulder and pat her back. She’s likely hungry or wet or both. The first thing we should do is see about getting these sweethearts changed into dry diapers and then get them some bottles of formula to warm and fill their little bellies.” She sat down on the sofa and kissed her baby’s forehead. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Jax adjusted the baby he was holding to his shoulder, and to his surprise, she immediately calmed down. He watched Faith remove the contents of the stylish red diaper bag. She placed everything she found on the coffee table—a stack of diapers, a box of wet wipes, four plastic bottles and a couple of yellow cans bearing a brand name Jax didn’t recognize. He couldn’t even begin to guess what was inside. A couple of yellow T-shirts with snaps on the bottom.

“Diapers first, then formula.” Faith spread a blanket on the floor and laid her baby down, gesturing for Jax to do the same.

“What’s formula?” Jax asked, following Faith’s lead. He carefully unwrapped the blankets swaddled around his infant and removed the wet diaper.

“It’s like milk, only it’s specifically made for babies’ sensitive stomachs.”

“I don’t have any formula.” Jax gently lifted the baby’s legs and slid a diaper underneath her. He started to tape the tabs only to realize the diaper was backward.

Tabs in back, cartoon picture in front.

Good thing he was a fast learner.

“Yes, you do.” Faith nodded toward the yellow cans. “But that stash won’t last very long, especially with two little ones. You’ll have to get to the store soon.”

Like today. And not just for formula, but for all the other things two babies would need.

Most people had nine months to plan their baby’s arrival. He hadn’t had a single second. And with the whole town wrapped up for the weekend with the special event, he wouldn’t be able to visit Sam’s Grocery until Monday. He hoped he could make it that long. When he had the opportunity, he’d call Slade and Laney and see if they had anything he could use.

Satisfied that he had his daughter’s diaper fastened—if not perfectly then at least adequately—he lifted her back into his arms. Faith likewise picked up her infant, but then also somehow managed to balance two bottles and a can of formula in her other arm. Talented woman.

“Kitchen?”

“Through the door on the left,” he said, nodding toward the small space that served him as a kitchen.

“Can I help?” he asked her, not knowing how much assistance he could actually provide.

“No need.” She chuckled.

She was obviously going to set up the bottles for the infants, though Jax had no clue what that entailed, much less how she was going to manage with only one free hand. He looked around, wondering what he ought to do next and wishing babies came with a written how-to manual.

Well, okay, maybe not a manual. He wasn’t much on reading directions. But a bulleted list, at least.

He stared down at the tiny slip of humanity nestled in the crook of his arm, smacking noisily on her little fist that she’d caught in her mouth, and felt yet another overwhelming surge of joy and amazement. His throat closed around the emotion, clogging his breath.

His baby. Sweet...

His mind sluggishly wrapped around his biggest problem yet. He hadn’t seen a note in the paraphernalia Faith had emptied from the diaper bag.

“What’s your name, little darlin’?”

* * *

Her arms laden with the second twin and trying to balance two warm bottles, Faith froze in the doorway, her gaze checked on the large man with the tiny infant enfolded in his muscular arms.

He’d spoken aloud. And he was right.

How was he supposed to deal with that issue? He could hardly care for the twins without names. Susie wasn’t answering her phone and there didn’t appear to be a note anywhere.

She shook her head and scoffed softly. This whole thing was messed up on so many levels that she couldn’t even begin to catalog them. It was surreal.

They couldn’t continue to refer to the two babies as your baby and my baby based on which infant they were holding, first because they were both his children and second because Faith would be leaving soon, or at least as soon as they could find someone else to assist him. There was no question that he’d need round-the-clock help, at least for the first few days.

Jax pulled out his phone and from the expression on his face, she could tell that he’d dialed Susie once again, but of course the senseless woman wasn’t answering. Not that Faith expected her to. What woman in her right mind would drop her babies on someone’s front step, even if that someone was the unsuspecting father? She was clearly immature and running away from her responsibilities. It was highly unlikely she’d offer Jax any kind of assistance now.

Faith coughed to let Jax know she was standing there, but he didn’t acknowledge her. He didn’t even look up. He was entirely focused on the baby in his arms.

He seemed to notice her only when she entered the living room and sat down on the couch across from his easy chair. She handed him a bottle and smiled encouragingly. With more actions than words, she showed him how to hold and angle the bottle for the precious little one in his arms. The baby took right to it, although Jax appeared a little self-conscious.

She leaned back into the middle cushion of the plush chocolate-colored couch and encouraged her baby—or rather, not her baby, but the infant she was holding—to root for the bottle. She was as hungry as her sister, and in moments the room was silent except for the sound of contented gurgling.

“I’ve got so many problems I don’t know where to start. For one thing, I can’t tell them apart,” Jax admitted, his lips tightening into a thin, straight line. “And even if I could, Susie didn’t leave a note to tell me what to call them. She could have at least pinned a name on them or something.”

Faith looked from one baby to the other. Jax was right. The children looked exactly the same, from their scrunched-up expressions as they held the bottles to their chocolate-brown eyes. They were even dressed alike.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “That’s a complication, but we’ll figure it out. We don’t know if they are identical or fraternal twins, but at this point in the game they are unquestionably going to be hard to tell one from the other. We need to look for some kind of defining features, something that sets the two apart.”

He frowned and studied the infant in his arms, who was noisily enjoying her late lunch. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Let’s compare. They both have the same thick tufts of brown hair.”

Just like their daddy.

“Your baby’s hair seems slightly curlier, but that could change after they’ve had a bath.”

Jax’s face paled and he made a choking sound. “A bath?”

She chuckled at his insecurity. He seemed like a take-charge kind of man, and yet a baby—two babies—left him helpless. It would be kind of cute, were it not so serious.

“With water,” she teased. “Don’t worry, we’ll get there. I’m sure somebody can show you how it’s done. Your mom has probably given babies a bath or two in her time.”

“No doubt,” he said, the corner of his mouth stretching up. “And I imagine my brothers and I were more trouble than these little girls are going to be.”

Faith chuckled, imagining three rough-and-tumble boys in the bathtub. Jax’s mother must have had a stern hand to have kept them in line.

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