why would she...?” The rest of his sentence trailed off into puzzled silence. He grimaced. His ex-wife was the last person he wanted to talk to, especially today. Faith had somehow, although he had no idea how, gotten him out of his own head for a while. He’d actually been enjoying himself for a change, and that had happened far too little in his life in the nine months since Susie left him.
Count on Susie to dump ice water on his good mood. Without even answering the phone, he sensed she was about to completely ruin what up until now had been a perfectly good day.
It just figured.
He cupped his hand over the receiver and flashed Faith an apologetic shrug.
“Excuse me just a moment, will you, Faith? I’d better take this. It’s my ex-wife on the line.”
“Of course,” she said with an encouraging smile. “Take all the time you need.”
He strode a few steps away from Faith and held the phone to his ear, trying not to grit his teeth when he spoke.
“Did you need something?” Jax didn’t bother with pleasantries. He couldn’t imagine what she wanted. He’d already done what he could for her. He hadn’t contested the divorce, hadn’t protested the way she’d taken almost everything of value from the house when she left, hadn’t even argued over the amount of money she’d taken from their shared accounts—though he remained deeply grateful that the ranch’s accounts were separate and that she hadn’t been able to access them. She’d drained away everything she could from him, including his confidence and pride, until the love he’d once felt for her had withered into dust. He had nothing left to give her.
So why was she contacting him now?
“Are you at the house?”
“No, I’m not.” He started to tell her he was at the auction but then cut his words short. His shoulders tightened with strain and his gut squeezed so forcefully he could barely breathe. He didn’t have to answer to her, not about his whereabouts or any other part of his life.
Besides, Susie didn’t even live in Serendipity anymore. She despised the small town in which she’d been born and raised. She probably didn’t even know about the auction, seeing as it was the first—and Jax hoped only—one ever.
“Why are you asking? Are you in town? Do you need to see me for something?” Had there been some kind of legal hang-up? He hoped not. He’d thought the divorce was a done deal.
“Go home. Now.”
“What?” Jax asked, his voice a low rumble. He didn’t care for the way she was ordering him around.
“Just go.” She sounded a little desperate.
“Wait—” Heat flared through him in a flash of foreboding and he muttered something unintelligible under his breath. “Susie? Susie?”
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