Met leaned back against a fencepost and hooked his boot heel on the bottom rail. “You know how when you’re dating a girl, you kind of have this moment when you’re not totally sure if she’s into you or not?”

The other two Hernandez brothers standing by the fence both looked over at Met with an almost comical slant to the corners of their mouths. Met had been invited by his young niece and nephew—Bella and Jaeger—to come and watch their riding lesson with Laredo’s fiancée, Aria Callahan. Since Aria was an old friend, Met had agreed. But if he were honest with himself, there was a lot more to his agreement than just a chance to see his niece and nephew ride.

Of course, now he was regretting the entire idea because he could not remember why it had seemed like a good idea to ask his brothers anything about this topic. They were about the most unsupportive jerks on the planet when it came to this kind of thing. Which is why Met was left waving his hand and muttering for them to forget it.

That had the direct opposite effect though. Laredo was the first one to sigh and rub his chin before venturing a real answer. “I don’t really have nearly as much experience as you and Darren in the dating department. But the way I remember it was a woman will sometimes pretend that she’s interested when she’s not. And then when she’s decided that she’s really not interested, she just stops calling or returning texts or messages or things.”

Darren snorted. “Wow, big brother, you’ve had some seriously crappy experiences in the dating arena.”

“You think?” Laredo arched one eyebrow and gave Darren a withering look of disdain. “I mean, I did marry the biggest bitch on the front range who most definitely stopped returning my calls and texts once she got the money she wanted and ran off with the first cowboy that came along who could ring her bell.”

“Fair point,” Darren muttered.

Met was waving his hands by this time. “Hey! Just forget I said anything.”

“Are you talking about Daphne?” Laredo wanted to know. “Because I hope you didn’t screw anything up with that woman. We really needed her help on this public relations issue we have going on.”

“I didn’t screw anything up,” Met assured Laredo. Then he had to reconsider. “At least not on purpose. I just haven’t heard from her since the beginning of the week. We spent most of the weekend together. It was fantastic.” Another pause. Could Met really assure his brothers of that? “Okay, so I thought it was fantastic, and I thought she did too. She went to work on Monday morning, which is the normal way of things for people”—he made a face at Laredo—“or so I hear. Then I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Hmm,” Darren murmured. He seemed to be musing this over very thoroughly in his mind. “I suppose it’s possible that she’s just busy. Right?”

“Right,” Laredo agreed. “The woman has to completely keep track of half a dozen accounts’ worth of bad press. Contrary to popular belief, we are not the worst people here in Denver.” Laredo’s mocking sarcasm had the other two Hernandez brothers grinning in response.

“Can you imagine what she has to deal with on a daily basis?” Met could not begin to imagine all of the stupidity. “I’m just glad she’s never seen too much of my dirty laundry. The poor woman would probably take to her bed and never leave.”

“Good Lord, is that Mom and Dad driving up the road?” Darren was staring at the plume of dust headed in their direction as though the pope himself were leading the way.

Laredo grunted and looked almost irritated. “I do believe it is.”

“You said Bella invited the whole family, right?” Met pointed at Laredo. “You should have told your daughter that this is a no grandparents zone. As in no grandparents are allowed in the safe zone.”

“She likes her grandmother.” Laredo sounded as sullen as a spoiled child. “It’s not my fault our mom likes her back.”

Met thought about the conversation he’d had with Audrey at the ill-fated family dinner. “I think Mom is just excited to have multiple grandchildren. Think about it. It wasn’t like we weren’t all trying pretty hard to impregnate every female we came into contact with, but only two of us managed to have any success.”

Darren slugged Met in the gut. “And you’re wondering why Daphne hasn’t called you back? I think you should be glad she hasn’t tried to have you arrested for being the worst player in Denver.”

“I haven’t been with anyone else since she and I started talking,” Met assured his brothers. “So, stop thinking that’s what’s happening.”

Laredo was too busy waving to their mother and father to continue talking about his younger brother’s love life. Audrey was the first to exit the truck. She came around the front of the vehicle and flung her arms around Laredo. She was carrying a rather large messenger bag that bounced against her hip, but Laredo didn’t seem to mind that she was basically pummeling him with it. The kiss-up.

“Boys,” Joe said gruffly as he approached. “Where are the kids?”

“Saddling up with Aria and Maggie in the barn,” Darren offered. “Maggie’s been learning some of this stuff from Bella and Jaeger. She’s never ridden before. At least not much beyond those nose to tail trail rides at a rental place.”

“Good for her to learn then if she wants to be part of a ranching family.” The arrogance in Joe’s tone made Met want to roll his eyes.

Met was so sick of his father’s tendency to wax poetic about what it meant to be part of a “ranching family.” So far, in Met’s opinion, it meant that you ignored propriety and worried about the bottom line in between binge drinking and screwing around with as many women as possible.

“I saw your article in both the Front Range Wayfarer and the Denver Magazine.” Joe was nodding, but Met felt completely at a loss. What article? What was his father talking about? Then Joe enlightened him, and Met felt even worse. “They just came out last night. Well, the one in the Denver Magazine was in the Wednesday edition. The Front Range Wayfarer was just today. Your mother picked it up on the newsstand on our way out here since you were on the cover.”

Darren swung around to stare at Met. “You didn’t say you were going to be on the cover.”

“I didn’t know.” Met wondered why Daphne hadn’t at least texted to tell him when the article was being released. “I didn’t even know that the whole thing was done.”

“Well, it did the trick, I’m sure.” Joe snorted and shook his head. “Much better than that last bit of trash you managed to have pinned on your ass. I can’t believe the Abernathy Firm managed to turn that around and make you smell like roses after that piece in the Tattler.”

“Excuse me?” Met had no idea what his father was babbling about, but he intended to get to the bottom of it. “What are you blathering on about? I have no clue what you’re yakking about, and it’s starting to really piss me off.”

“You don’t, huh?” Joe started sniggering. “Well, isn’t that just perfect timing, then.”

“Joseph Hernandez, stop being such a bastard.” Audrey smacked Joe in the belly as she walked by. Then she dug in her messenger bag and pulled out a small newspaper Met had never seen before. “Here, sweetie, this is what came out on Monday morning.”

“What the hell?” Met groaned as he realized that Justin Sorenson’s pictures were right there on the cover of this gossip rag for the world to see. “This is crap! It’s not even true!”

Darren cleared his throat. He’d been looking over Met’s shoulder long enough to read the bit about Met drinking until he nearly passed out at Cody’s. “Actually, this is truth mixed with some fiction, which is the easiest form of lying to sell because it’s not all lies. You did almost pass out at Cody’s.”

“I did not!” Met protested. “I was nowhere near passing out. I was still coherent enough to tell you that I was about to puke, wasn’t I?”

“Wow. That is a really great defense,” Laredo said sarcastically. “I think the point we’re trying to make is that your behavior was absolutely the opposite of what it was supposed to be.”

“Got it.”

“Which is why this one makes me just so happy I could cry!” Audrey gushed. “I had no idea you were so sensitive!”

“Excuse me?” Met was pretty sure he’d heard her wrong. He had not been described as sensitive one time before in his life. He had heard the word insensitive plenty of times over the years, but sensitivity was not his thing. “And I had no idea that Widowmaker horse was one of Cal’s! Can you imagine? That must have been so hard for you!” Audrey actually swiped at a tear in the corner of her eye.

Meanwhile, Met thought it was quite possible that he was going to pass out right here and now without even one drop of alcohol in his system. Had his mother just talked about Widowmaker? Had she just said that she had no idea Widowmaker had been one of Cal’s horses? Had she actually just talked about his last ride? Or at least the emotional impact behind it? This was bad. This was very, very bad.

“Mom, where are you getting this from?” Met tried not to panic.

His mother pulled a big glossy magazine from her bag. It was today’s edition of the Front Range Wayfarer. The front cover was a shot of Met and Widowmaker. The two of them had their backs to the camera—so to speak. They were looking over their shoulder at the photographer. Widowmaker’s thick black tail hung almost all the way to the ground, and he was practically resting his head on Met’s shoulder. The scenery of the ranch range behind them was dramatic. The front range mountains themselves were the starting backdrop for a spread of green grass and a section of fence sporting the HLC brand etched right into the old wood.

The shot was rustic. It was dramatic. The color was good. And even Met had to admit that this Carson guy was a genius with a camera. But it was the headline on the sidebar of the magazine that made Met want to find the nearest hole and just hide for the rest of his life.

“The wounded man comes home to rest,” Audrey whispered to Met. “It’s just so poetic and so true, you know? I knew you were hurting, but the struggle with the alcohol is just such a wonderful touch. I know that people will absolutely forgive this other nonsense after they read about you and this horse.”

“Fuck. Me.” They were the only words that Met could get out of his mouth before turning to put a few yards between himself and his family.

Fortunately, now was about the time that Bella and Jaeger had appeared from the barn with their horses. The family immediately crowded around the two youngsters as they prepared to ride. Met watched from the opposite side of the ring as his niece and nephew walked their horses to the mounting block and got on.

Met hadn’t ridden a horse that did not want to buck him off in something like five or six years. When he had first started on the rodeo circuit, he’d ridden shifts as a pickup man for the bull riding. Once he had stopped doing that, he had pretty much stopped sitting in a saddle unless it was strapped to a bronc that wanted him dead in the dirt.

It was odd to see those two little kids so excited to get up on their horses. Bella was up and had Smokey headed toward the rail in just a few minutes. She was confident, calm, and absolutely in control of that horse. She reminded Met strongly of Jesse. As a girl, Jesse had possessed the same confidence on a horse. It was almost as if she’d been born there.

Jaeger was a little more cautious but no less enthusiastic. His little cowboy boots were practically sticking out both sides of his horse, the pony was so fat. But he got that horse going with almost no help from Aria or Maggie. Jaeger sent his little sorrel mount after Bella’s grey mare, and the two of them immediately started their lesson.

It was a relief to know that there were no eyes on him right now. Met felt utterly exposed. How could Daphne have allowed that? He hadn’t read the article yet, but he was pretty sure from the headline and from his mother’s comments that Carson had used information in the article that hadn’t been given to him by Met. Met had not discussed about his previous relationship with Widowmaker. He had not talked about his alcohol problems or the fact that his injuries were so extensive that he would be lucky to ever sit in a regular saddle again, much less ride a bronc. Met hadn’t given Carson that information, and that meant that Daphne had done it for him.

Met had trusted her. He had told her things that he had never told anyone else. She had guessed things about him. She had inferred them and understood them and even been allowed to ask questions and make assumptions that Met would never have allowed from another person.

He felt used. He felt betrayed. He felt as though the only reason she had slept with him and talked with him and gotten to know him was so she could do her job more appropriately. Had any of it been real? Had it all just been part of the playacting that she’d done so she could get a gold star from her company?

Pulling out his phone, Met opened a text box and tried to decide what to say. There were no words that would accurately tell her how horrible he felt right now. There was nothing that he could say to make her understand how exposed and vulnerable she’d left him by showing the whole world he was riddled with scars and soft spots. She had left him naked in front of the entire Denver region, and now she didn’t even have the good grace to call him back or return a message? Maybe he’d been totally wrong about her. Maybe nothing had happened between them. Maybe it had been all sex and that was all. And maybe it was time for him to accept that and just be done with it and with her.