something really bad way back when—and then decided he needed to make his own brand of twisted amends after his death.
And the woman, Aislinn. She’d seemed completely destroyed by what she’d just learned. It had felt downright evil to sit there at that table, a witness to her suffering, as Anders read that showboat letter of Martin’s that said she wasn’t who she’d always believed herself to be.
Damn Martin. Damn him to hell and back. Jax had loved the old reprobate, but this was one long, rickety bridge too far.
And then again...
Well, Martin was Martin. He’d always made life interesting. Jax and his Aunt Claudia, both serious, down-to-earth and a little bit shy, had secretly reveled in the excitement Martin brought to their lives. They always tried to hold him back when he got some out-there idea he was itching to pursue. At the same time, they loved it. They were his audience and Martin was the star of their cobbled-together family of three.
If Martin were here now in the flesh, what would he say? Jax knew: I love you, son. I never wanted to hurt you. But we both know some men need a good kick in the pants to get out there and get what matters most—and who around here needs a good kick? Martin would grin. Look in a mirror, Jaxon, my boy.
Jax felt all turned around. Wild River was in jeopardy. He needed to consider every possibility.
Was the woman really what she seemed? Could this be her doing, somehow?
That bit about being in love with him. What was that, anyway? Had Martin simply lost it in his last days—or had Aislinn Bravo somehow gotten to him? Had she managed, secretly, to cozy up to a lonely old man and whisper in his ear?
But whisper what? I’m your daughter and you owe me. I’ll take Jaxon.
No. Wrong.
This wasn’t the woman’s fault. It couldn’t be. Even with a possible fifty K in the mix, it didn’t quite add up that she was in on this horror show.
No. On the surface at least, this was pure Martin—the drama of it, the insanity and the out-there, over-the-top solution of Jax and Martin’s secret daughter getting married and remaining so for three months in order that said secret daughter would get her chance at her heart’s desire: Jax himself.
Completely bonkers.
Still, he had to keep his eyes open. That Aislinn Bravo might be the bad guy in this didn’t seem possible. But as of now, anyway, he couldn’t be 100 percent certain of her innocence, either. He barely remembered her from that summer five years ago, and he had no way to be sure who she was deep down, at heart.
And whatever she’d done, whatever her possible part in this lunacy, he needed her on the same page with him now. Unless Anders could come up with some way to break the terms of Martin’s crazy-ass last will and testament, Jax was going to need her to be married to him for the next three months.
It was that, or lose Wild River.
And that could never happen. His family had owned Wild River for generations. The ranch was his future and his past. It was everything to him. He would never let it go.
He strode fast across the lobby and pushed through the double doors out onto Exchange Street, glancing left first, then right and seeing no sign of her. Had she vanished around the corner? Disappeared into a Lyft?
But then he looked straight ahead.
And there she was across the street, huddled in the doorway alcove of the Elks building, her arms wrapped around herself, her delicate shoulders hunched. She seemed to be studying the pretty white sandals on her narrow feet.
He waited for a delivery van to go by and then jogged across the street, slowing his steps when he reached the sidewalk in order not to startle her.
She must have sensed him coming. Her shining chin-length curls bounced as her head came up. He stopped six feet from her, close enough to talk, but not so close he crowded her.
“What do you want?” Her eyes were enormous, dark as black coffee, brimming with hurt and confusion.
If she’s acting, she ought to be in movies—just like the other one, Madison Delaney. “Come back inside with me. Hear the rest.”
A wild shudder went through her. “Oh, God. There’s more?”
“Just the details. You need to hear them. We both do.”
“No.” She shook her head, setting the curls bouncing again. “No, I don’t think I need that. I don’t think I can.”
A redhead approached pushing a stroller. Her freckle-faced little boy waved at Jax as he rolled by.
Jax stole a step closer to the woman in the alcove. “You don’t have to decide anything today.”
She scrunched her eyes shut and swiped her inky hair back from her forehead. “I mean it, Jax. I really don’t think I can.”
“Can, what?”
“Go back in there. I mean, is this really happening? I’m not me. And crazy old Martin Durand is my biological father?”
“I hear you.” Another step. She didn’t bolt. “It’s completely insane.”
She pinned him with a shining, furious look. “I hate him. You must hate him about now, too, huh?”
He answered her truthfully. “No. I loved him. I miss him.”
She made a tight, angry sound. “You still love him? After what you just heard in there?”
“Hey. I didn’t say he was an easy man to love. But he made every day an adventure. And he was always good to me in his way.”
She scoffed outright. “Oh, please. I saw how he was that summer I worked for you. He let you do all the work while he sat on the front porch in his ratty old bathrobe.”
“I like doing the work. And Martin used to work hard, too, back when I was growing up.” He watched her closely as he spoke. Did his voice seem to soothe her? Maybe. And at this point, he would try anything to keep her from taking off again. He went on talking. “When I was a boy, we worked together, Martin and me. Aunt Claudia was sick a lot. Martin taught me everything I know about ranching and horses. And then he sent me to college, though I didn’t want to go. He said I needed to get out and see what the world had to offer, said I had to be certain that Wild River was my choice, not just the only thing I knew. He also got it right about Judy—my ex-wife?”
She looked at him, wide-eyed. “What about her?”
“Martin said Judy would never be happy at Wild River, no matter that she promised me she would love ranch life. Judy didn’t love it and she kept after me to move with her to the Bay Area, where her family lived. Eventually, she divorced me and went back to San Francisco.”
And whoa. Talk about too much information—bringing up Judy, babbling out private stuff that no one needed to hear. Soothing this woman was one thing, but the verbal diarrhea needed to stop.
Aislinn, still huddled in the corner by the door, was watching him. And now that he really looked at her, he could see Martin in her—in the soft, full shape of her mouth, the elegant line of her nose.
He held out his hand. “Come back in, won’t you?”
She looked at his outstretched fingers, considering. But she didn’t take them. “I’m sorry,” she said, as he gave up and dropped his arm back to his side. “I can’t do it—can’t go back in there. Can’t do...any of it.”
Oh, yeah, she could. She had to do it. Impatience coiled like a snake inside him. But he refused to give in to it. Impatience wasn’t going to help him get through to her. “What’d I say a minute ago? You don’t have to decide right now.”
Those doe eyes stayed locked with his. “I’m scaring you. I’m sorry.”
“No,