Evan rammed his Stetson down on his head and picked up the pace. If there was any way he could give them all the finger and ride off into the sunset right now, he’d absolutely, one hundred percent, do it. He gathered Joker and set him toward the boundary fence. If he took a couple of shortcuts across the other ranches, he’d be at the Martinez Ranch in no time at all.
What was wrong with loving the place he’d grown up in anyway? Why did he have to think beyond that? Evan slowed Joker to a walk as Adam’s words continued to repeat in his brain.
A job here until you die . . .
He stared down at the Martinez spread—the old ranch house with the new outbuildings Rio had added since taking over from Adam’s old in-laws and saving the place from housing developers. Evan wasn’t sure if Rio was home. Between his interests in his father’s billion-dollar company, Howatch International, and his gig as a commentator for the Professional Bull Riders TV show, he was a busy man.
The ranch had originally been intended for Adam and his now-deceased wife, Louisa. But after his father-in-law’s recent death, Adam had given up that claim and secured Ines’s financial future at the ranch where she lived with Rio and his fiancée, Yvonne, who ran the café and bakery in Morgantown. Ines loved having the company and that Rio could speak Portuguese with her now that Carlos had gone.
Despite his father’s hatred of all things rodeo, Evan had taken to sneaking off to the Martinez place where Rio not only trained aspiring bull riders but had also set up a bull breeding program for the PBR. For the first time in his life, he was glad he hadn’t been built like his two linebacker brothers and was the shortest and lightest male in the family. It made riding any horse or bull competitively so much easier.
He clicked to Joker, leaned slightly back in the saddle to compensate for the slope, and made his way down the hill toward the new barn, his gaze scanning the fenced pastures for a sight of the new bulls and any activity. The place was disappointingly quiet. He reminded himself he wasn’t here to mess around but to check in on Ines.
He dismounted in front of the barn and led Joker toward the shade to tie him up. A shrill whistle drew his attention to the enclosed paddock at the other end of the building. After making sure Joker was double-tied, because he had a tendency to get free, Evan walked through the shadowed barn and back out into the glaring brightness of a typical blue-sky California day.
Someone was practicing on one of the smaller bulls. Evan leaned up against the high railing and watched as the diminutive rider struggled to stay on board the relentlessly kicking bull. He slowly counted down the eight precious seconds it took for a ride to be scored and was impressed when the rider managed to hang on long enough.
He stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled his appreciation as the rider rolled clear and came up on his knees, his hat falling to the ground.
“Nice job.”
One of the hands persuaded the bull back into its pen and the rider came toward Evan, dusting off the Stetson on his chaps.
“Who are you?”
Evan recoiled. “You’re a girl.”
“So what?” Her eyebrows rose over her dark brown eyes. “Girls can ride bulls.”
“Not that I’ve noticed.”
She pointed back into the paddock. “What was that? A mirage?”
“Maybe.” Evan considered her. She had a slight accent, which gave her voice a huskiness he found ridiculously attractive. “Does Rio know you’re riding his bulls?”
“No, I just sneak in here when he’s not around. Next question?”
“I kind of admire that.” Evan nodded. “Won’t he be mad if you get hurt, though?”
For the first time, she smiled. “Probably. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.”
“It’s a dangerous sport.”
“Duh. I know that.”
For a moment they just stared at each other and then Evan grinned and offered her his hand.
“I’m Evan.”
“Josie.” She shook his hand, her grip firm.
“I came to see Ines.”
“Oh! She’s expecting you—just go on through the mudroom to the kitchen. I’ll join you after I’ve washed up.”
“You live here?”
Josie came through the railings and looped the chain back over the post. “I do at the moment.”
“You’re one of the hands?” Evan started toward the house.
“Not quite, but I help out when I can.” She pointed at the rear door. “Go through there. It’s not locked.”
Evan resisted the impulse to tell her he knew the way. The fact that she seemed to have no idea who he was in a place where everyone knew his entire family history for four generations was refreshing. He guessed Adam had let Ines know he’d be coming at some point, which was kind of annoying. He didn’t need his big brother checking up on him.
Josie stopped and turned back, her long, black braid swinging over her shoulder. “Don’t you need your tools?”
He studied her carefully. “I need to see what’s up first.”
“Makes sense.” She nodded. “See you in a bit.”
“Looking forward to it already,” Evan called out as she headed toward the tack room.
He went into the mudroom, took off his boots, and padded through into the kitchen where he found Ines, hands on hips with her back to him, staring at the open dishwasher and shaking her head.
“Bom dia, Ines,” Evan said.
She spun around. She was a small woman who always wore her silver-streaked hair in a braided bun on the top of her head. “Evan, how lovely to see you.” She came over to kiss him on both cheeks. “I thought you were the repairman.”
“What’s up with it?” Evan joined her in staring at the dishwasher.
“It’s not draining properly. I told Rio I didn’t need one of these things and that I was quite happy washing up my own dishes, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
Evan crouched down and looked inside the dishwasher where two inches of dirty water still lingered at the bottom. “That’s not good.”
“I was thinking about running it again, but Josie said I might end up flooding the kitchen, and that the best thing to do was call the repairman.”
Evan stood and leaned over to check the air gap sticking out of the countertop. “Have you looked at this?”
“I don’t even know what it is,” Ines confessed.
Evan tried to unscrew the cap, but it was stuck. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out one of his gloves to get a good grip.
“That’s better.” Even as he released the cap, he saw the problem. He eased the chunk of what looked like half-chewed gristle out of the pipe, which then gave a satisfying gurgle and spewed out a mixture of bubbles and water. “That should clear it.”
Ines peered over his shoulder. “There was something stuck in there?”
“Yup, blocking the airflow.” He dropped the mangled piece of meat in the trash. “It should be fine now, but I’ll just check the pipes under the sink for any further blockage. Has the water been running through the faucet okay?”
“It hasn’t been great,” Ines admitted.
Evan rolled up his sleeves. “Then let’s take a look.”