“So, why did you quit rodeo?” Carson was pestering Met with questions while snapping photos at an alarming rate.

Daphne could not decide what made this so much different than every other photo shoot/interview she had attended or sat in on. For some reason, every single time Carson asked Met a question, Daphne had to stop herself from rushing to either answer or to tell Carson to mind his own business. She was taking this far too seriously.

With that in mind, she turned her back on the whole process and folded her arms over her chest. She was still wearing the black slacks, dark blue blouse, and black-and-white blazer that she had worn to work this morning. For some reason, she felt far more overdressed than the situation merited. Yes. They were on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, but she was still working.

“So, you’re the one my father hired to make us look good, hmm?” Calvin Hernandez appeared beside her quite suddenly. At least he’d left the weapon on the porch of the bunkhouse.

She sighed and tried to find a way to explain all of this to a man like Cal. That was when she realized she didn’t know enough about Cal to determine what kind of man he was or what sort of answer he required.

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Daphne allowed. She didn’t want to be rude to the guy, but he was extremely gruff and kind of scary looking. “Laredo just asked that we smile for the camera and try to make people see that the Hernandez family doesn’t have some hidden agenda to push. You know, eating babies and stealing cows or whatnot from every family in the state.” She used a deliberately blasé tone just to see what he’d say.

It was a bit surprising when he laughed. Somehow when Calvin Hernandez laughed, he looked more like his brothers, specifically Met. Met had that irresistible charm and a certain zest for life that so many people in the world just lacked. Apparently, that sort of charm ran in the family—when it chose to.

“We do seem to have some problems lately,” Cal allowed. Then he rested his back against a porch post and folded his arms over his chest. “It must be pretty damn bad if it got Met to come back out here to the old home place though.”

“Why do you say that?” Daphne decided playing dumb right here was her best bet to find out as much as she could without being obvious about her desire to pry into Met’s past.

“My baby brother hasn’t been back out here since he was seventeen,” Cal mused. He looked thoughtful. His face was more lined and weathered from being outside. It was also obvious that he was older, but the man couldn’t have even been thirty yet. Still, he looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. “Met saw something he didn’t like and left out of here like an angry coyote with a thorn in his paw.”

“What did he see?”

Cal’s blue gaze slid over to rest on Daphne. “If he didn’t tell you, then it’s not my place to say.” Cal stared at her for so long that Daphne had to forcibly quell the urge to squirm and look away. Finally, the man sighed and gazed off to where Met was very studiously trying to ignore the horse, who was just as studiously trying to get Met’s attention by nudging him and wanting to be scratched.

“He’s a really beautiful horse,” Daphne said, effectively changing the subject. “Do you ever think about turning your rodeo stock into everyday riding horses?”

“Some of them just don’t want to buck.” Cal jerked his chin toward the horse. “That one happens to enjoy his job. You wouldn’t last a minute in the saddle with old Widowmaker. And I wouldn’t ever trust him as far as I could throw him. He can be an ornery cuss.”

“Widowmaker?”

“Haven’t you ever heard the tall tales of Pecos Bill?” Cal was smiling now. It was more than a little disconcerting. “He rode a horse named Widowmaker.”

“I see.”

“The tale goes that he met a beautiful girl named Sue. And before she would agree to marry him, she wanted to ride his horse. But Widowmaker didn’t like her, and he bucked her off so hard that she went to the moon and was never seen again.” Cal was actually nodding as he spoke, as though he believed this nonsense.

Daphne could not resist. She looked up and pointed at him. “Tell me you don’t believe that nonsense.”

“No ma’am, I don’t.” He laughed. Then he gestured to the horse. “But I do believe that our Widowmaker may actually have a chance of being voted onto the PRCA national rodeo finals stock list this year. That’s why he’s here at home for a few weeks. We’re resting him up. I want him good and sharp for his next gig.”

“Oh.” Daphne looked at the horse. He was beautiful, but she didn’t really know anything about horses, so she was just judging him based on his pretty black color and his thick, luxurious mane and tail. “What makes him good at his job?”

“Look at how solid he is.” Cal’s tone was admiring but also very patient and almost teacher like. “He’s got a big deep chest for a huge pair of lungs. His body is nice and square. His back isn’t too long. He’s got powerful haunches, and his muscle tone pretty much all over his body is prime. He’s only seven, so he’s in his prime as a working horse. His legs are nice and thick with hooves plenty large enough to carry around his weight. Plus, he’s built uphill. That means the front end sits just a tad higher than the back end. It means he can get his haunches underneath him for a really powerful kick out.”

“Kick out?” She was confused. “What is the kicking about?”

“You ever seen a horse buck?”

“Not really.” In fact, the only horses that Daphne had ever really been around had been at those rental places where you certainly didn’t want them to be bucking at all. And of course, the animals were less than motivated to walk, much less to buck.

“Once the animal gets into a good rhythm, he pretty much propels himself into the air with his front feet so that he can kick out with his hind feet. The straighter the hind legs when they kick out, the better the rhythm and the better the score,” Cal explained patiently. “But where my Widowmaker there can do a sweet rhythm that will get a cowboy a big score, that means that they have to get past his explosion out of the gate.” Cal gave a low whistle. “Let me tell you, I’ve never seen a horse bust out of a chute like that one. He jumps up on his hind legs, waves his front legs around, and dances for a few steps before those front legs hit the ground like a pile driver.”

Daphne was trying to imagine this huge creature on its hind legs like a giant-sized dancer and could not begin to picture it. “That has to hurt.”

Cal snorted. “Ask Met. That’s where Widowmaker got him.”

“This horse bucked Met off?” Daphne swung around to gape at Cal. “He put Met in the dirt and stomped on him, and you just walked him out of the pen like nothing had happened?”

For just a moment, she considered Cal one of the meanest, most small-minded people she’d ever come across. And then she really looked into his expression. There was compassion and worry in his eyes. It was there on his face for her to see.

Cal’s deep sigh seemed to have the weight of the world behind it. “My brother has to get over Widowmaker, Daphne. It’s just a horse. He’s built that gelding up in his mind to be some specter or some kind of Godzilla-like monster. It’s just a horse. And yes. It was a very bad fall. That horse put his foot right in the middle of Met’s back. It doesn’t happen often, but when Met fell off, he yanked the horse’s face sideways with the rope. Widowmaker had to step somewhere to avoid planting his face in the arena fence.”

“That’s awful,” Daphne whispered. “I don’t know what to think about this sport and these animals and what they do and what people do and—people are just insane, you know?”

Cal chuckled. “You don’t see me out there riding broncs in competition.”

“Do you ride them here at home?” Daphne was suddenly very curious about this older brother that nobody saw or talked to anymore.

“I used to,” Cal admitted. “I hire a whole slew of younger guys for that now because the point is for them to hit the dirt.”

“The point?” Daphne thought that was the stupidest thing ever. “Why would you want a horse to buck someone off?”

“To give him confidence.” Cal shrugged. “It’s the same as hoping a cowboy will stay in the saddle. The more times you stay in the saddle and ride out those bucks, the more confidence you get and the more that horse knows he can’t get rid of you so why try.”

“Oh!” Daphne covered her hands with her mouth. “It’s just different sides of the same coin. They’re both athletes who have to be confident that they can win.”

“Exactly.” Cal chuckled. “You’re not bad at this stuff, you know, reasoning it out? You’d be surprised how many people feel too sorry for the poor little horsies that they forget these animals enjoy throwing people sky high and listening to them hit the dirt.”

“You’re just training them for something different than the ones we ride for fun,” Daphne mused. Then she cocked her head and stared hard at Cal. “You’re proud of Widowmaker. I can tell. But you can’t tell me it didn’t kill you to know that your horse hurt your brother that badly.”

“I wasn’t happy about it, no,” Cal agreed. “But my brother knew the risks he was taking. And believe me, he took a lot. He started too young and didn’t take care of himself. And part of that is our fault as his family because we’re so damn screwed up that we couldn’t even love him the way he deserved.”

Daphne swallowed. She turned and looked back over at Met. He had given up trying to ignore the horse. Widowmaker was bobbing his head up and down with enthusiasm as Met scratched his chest. Carson was still talking a mile a minute but had stopped snapping photographs. Daphne had a feeling that the interview was going well. In fact, she should have been thrilled. This was exactly what had to happen. It was the completion of her attempt to fulfill Laredo Hernandez’s ridiculous request to help his company get hold of their livestock contract.

“What’s eating you?” Cal asked her suddenly. “You look like you’ve got to give someone a whole slew of bad news.”

“Why do you hide out here and pretty much shun your family?” Daphne asked him suddenly. “What good does it do you to pretend that you’re angry at all of them?”

“Who says that’s what I do?” He cocked his head to one side and gazed down at her in a way that went far beyond a thirty or even a forty-year-old. The man looking out at her from behind his blue eyes was positively ancient. “I stay here because this is the best way I can help my family. I breed the horses and run the ranching part of the operation. There’s nothing for me to do back in town. Laredo’s got that covered. Believe me. And my father would not welcome my presence in the city anyway.”

“Why are the two of you at odds?” Daphne demanded suddenly. “Why is Joe Hernandez at odds with everyone? And why does nobody in your family just pull the plug on him and tell him it’s time to retire quietly so he can stop making a mess of things for the rest of you?”

“It’s complicated,” Cal said after a minute. “I’ve seen the way you look at my brother. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. But you can’t begin to understand what’s at stake here or everything that’s happened over the last decade. You just can’t. So, you can look at me and look at my family and think you know what we should all do, but you’d be wrong.” Cal pushed away from the post and started walking away. “And the more you judge and think you know what’s going on, the more you’d be wrong anyway. So, if I were you, I would just smile and try to play nice.”

Daphne tried to respond, but she could not even begin to find the words. What was he talking about? She didn’t know what? What was it he thought she was judging? Him? His brothers? His father? Maybe she was judging all three because every single person in this family was absolutely insane. They were all hiding things. None of them would talk about what had happened in the past to make them all the way that they were now, and nobody wanted to admit that they needed to communicate and come clean or risk spending the rest of their lives wondering what was really going on.

Cal was now gesturing to a big pen back behind Carson. Daphne realized that there was a very large bull inside the pen. Carson had taken his camera back out and was howling with delight as he photographed the big white-and-gray speckled bull. The thing looked as if it could rampage through a village and still find time to nap after the murder and mayhem was done.

Daphne shivered a little and tried to remind herself that a few kisses and a dance did not mean she was in a relationship with Met Hernandez. This was not her family and not her problem. She had plenty of her own problems. Justin was a fine example of that. It was just too bad that he hadn’t decided to follow Daphne out here to the ranch so that she might have the opportunity to shove him in the bull pen and watch the enormous creature kick him around a bit.