Read Online The Cowboy's Twins by Deb Kastner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Deb Kastner
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side of his lips.
âSo if you see anything you think I ought to add,â she continued, obviously not seeing Jaxâs expression, âplease speak up.â
If it were anyone but Faith, he would have spoken. He would have told her how crazy her whole scheme was and how she should turn around and go back to wherever home was. He would have told her flat out how he doubted her ability to turn the falling-down-around-her house and equally scrappy outbuildings and land into a working ranch. Unless she was independently wealthy, sheâd have money issues to add to what must already be multiple quandaries. Running a rescue operation on her own would be a challenge even on a tip-top ranch. Setting up her sanctuary while keeping the place from falling apart was a heavier load than any one person should be able to manage.
But Faith?
She was soâ so earnest. She was obviously trying hard to make it work, and she wasnât about to take no for an answer. He didnât think sheâd listen to him even if he did list all the reasons her plans would not work. She appeared dauntless, despite the mountains she was looking to scale. She didnât see the process as much as the end product.
Her dreams were real to her.
Vibrant.
And completely outrageous.
In some ways he envied her that outlook. He saw things in black-and-white. Mostly black. Definitely no pinkâat least until his daughters had shown up in his life.
Either Faith didnât see the problems she was facing or she was making a conscious choice to ignore them. Of course, a rainbows-and-unicorns attitude would take her only so far. Eventually, sheâd figure out that her operation was far too grand a scale for one woman. But he decided he wasnât going to be the one to bust her bubble. Not today.
âMy first two horses are arriving right away,â she informed him brightly as she tugged one of the ends of the tarp so he could nail it down.
Jaxâs hand slipped, and he slammed the hammer into his thumb. He yelped in pain and shook his hand in the air, then stuck it in his mouth to nurse it.
In an instant, Faith was crouched by his side, pulling her hand into hers. She examined him closely and murmured sweet nothings.
Jax was muttering, too. Something else.
âIâm fine,â he insisted, snatching his hand out of her grip. His thumb was throbbing, and all he could think about was how soft and supple her palms and fingers were and how it was a shame ranch work would ruin them. Something was really messed up about that.
âAt least let me get a bandage for you.â
He uttered a sound that was half a laugh, half a scoff. âI donât need a bandage, Faith. Nothingâs broken. The hammer didnât even pierce the skin.â
Her expression fell, and only then did he realize she was offering a bandage because she wanted to do something for him. Because she felt sorry for him.
He hated it when that happened. Pity was the worst, even if it was over something as stupid as him being careless with a hammer and slamming it on his lousy thumb. He barely restrained himself from growling in frustration.
âIâm fine ,â he said again and then figured heâd better distract her before she ended up threatening to put his whole arm in a sling. âWhatâs next after the hay?â
If she said horses , he was going to burst something.
âFirst things first. I need to fill the troughs with water from the pump.â
He gaped at her but she didnât notice.
Did she realize how many trips it would take to fill a large trough with buckets of water from the pump? And that was to say nothing about the strain of doing all that pumping or hauling heavy buckets of water.
He sighed. This was going to be a long afternoon.
But apparently she was just getting warmed up.
âI figure Iâll put hay down and hang an oat mixture in a bucket in the corral and then leave the gate to the front
âSo if you see anything you think I ought to add,â she continued, obviously not seeing Jaxâs expression, âplease speak up.â
If it were anyone but Faith, he would have spoken. He would have told her how crazy her whole scheme was and how she should turn around and go back to wherever home was. He would have told her flat out how he doubted her ability to turn the falling-down-around-her house and equally scrappy outbuildings and land into a working ranch. Unless she was independently wealthy, sheâd have money issues to add to what must already be multiple quandaries. Running a rescue operation on her own would be a challenge even on a tip-top ranch. Setting up her sanctuary while keeping the place from falling apart was a heavier load than any one person should be able to manage.
But Faith?
She was soâ so earnest. She was obviously trying hard to make it work, and she wasnât about to take no for an answer. He didnât think sheâd listen to him even if he did list all the reasons her plans would not work. She appeared dauntless, despite the mountains she was looking to scale. She didnât see the process as much as the end product.
Her dreams were real to her.
Vibrant.
And completely outrageous.
In some ways he envied her that outlook. He saw things in black-and-white. Mostly black. Definitely no pinkâat least until his daughters had shown up in his life.
Either Faith didnât see the problems she was facing or she was making a conscious choice to ignore them. Of course, a rainbows-and-unicorns attitude would take her only so far. Eventually, sheâd figure out that her operation was far too grand a scale for one woman. But he decided he wasnât going to be the one to bust her bubble. Not today.
âMy first two horses are arriving right away,â she informed him brightly as she tugged one of the ends of the tarp so he could nail it down.
Jaxâs hand slipped, and he slammed the hammer into his thumb. He yelped in pain and shook his hand in the air, then stuck it in his mouth to nurse it.
In an instant, Faith was crouched by his side, pulling her hand into hers. She examined him closely and murmured sweet nothings.
Jax was muttering, too. Something else.
âIâm fine,â he insisted, snatching his hand out of her grip. His thumb was throbbing, and all he could think about was how soft and supple her palms and fingers were and how it was a shame ranch work would ruin them. Something was really messed up about that.
âAt least let me get a bandage for you.â
He uttered a sound that was half a laugh, half a scoff. âI donât need a bandage, Faith. Nothingâs broken. The hammer didnât even pierce the skin.â
Her expression fell, and only then did he realize she was offering a bandage because she wanted to do something for him. Because she felt sorry for him.
He hated it when that happened. Pity was the worst, even if it was over something as stupid as him being careless with a hammer and slamming it on his lousy thumb. He barely restrained himself from growling in frustration.
âIâm fine ,â he said again and then figured heâd better distract her before she ended up threatening to put his whole arm in a sling. âWhatâs next after the hay?â
If she said horses , he was going to burst something.
âFirst things first. I need to fill the troughs with water from the pump.â
He gaped at her but she didnât notice.
Did she realize how many trips it would take to fill a large trough with buckets of water from the pump? And that was to say nothing about the strain of doing all that pumping or hauling heavy buckets of water.
He sighed. This was going to be a long afternoon.
But apparently she was just getting warmed up.
âI figure Iâll put hay down and hang an oat mixture in a bucket in the corral and then leave the gate to the front
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