Free Love Under Two Cowboys by Cara Covington

Steven runs that, as did our Uncle Jon before him. But that spread is mostly cattle. The only horses they have are the ones they use for working the herd, plus the ones that they keep for various family members who still like to ride.” Brian sighed. “Steven’s been a help, but his expertise isn’t in the area we need it to be.”
    “So basically, you’re on your own, and need help getting started.”
    “That about sums it up,” Chase said.
    “I’ve heard some ranchers have been having a good bit of luck breeding and crossbreeding Andalusians,” Julián said.
    “Yeah, we’ve heard the same thing, and we’ve heard of some of those ranches.”
    “That ranch I mentioned, just outside of Divine, is one of the best. It’s the Divine Creek Ranch, owned by a trio of men—longtime best friends and business partners. The program itself is run by Angel and Joaquin Martinez. I know them from my rodeo days. Might be worth the trip to go and have a look.”
    “It might, yes. We’ll also need to pick out our stock—both equine and bovine—and get them shipped here.”
    “You’ve done your research, so you have a list of possibilities.”
    Julián’s assumption that he and Chase were serious and knew basically what they were doing eased Brian’s major concern. He didn’t want to work with someone who thought he was a moron—or an easy mark as a boss.
    Though there was something about Julián, something that whispered to the back of his mind that he couldn’t put his finger on, Brian was all for giving the man a two-month trial. His honesty about his past and his connection to Mick earned him their initial trust, and a shot.
    Brian wondered how he’d react to the suggestion of a trial period.
    “Tell you what”—Julián nodded as if he’d come to a decision—“how about we have a two-month trial period? That should tell us all if we’re a good fit, or not. If I move on at the end of the two months, at least you’ll have your stock and a whole lot more information than you do now. You’d be on your way.”
    Beside him, Chase exhaled. Looks as if we’re all on the same page .
    “Sounds good,” Chase said. “Maybe you could give those friends of yours—the Martinezes over at Divine Creek Ranch—a call. See if they wouldn’t mind seeing an old friend and a couple of greenhorns.”
    “I will. But don’t go calling yourselves greenhorns. No one will believe you.”
    Brian figured that was a fine, if backhanded, compliment. He said, “If you need a place to stay, we’ve room in the house. We don’t have a bunkhouse yet—haven’t decided if we’re going to need one, or not.”
    “Obliged. I’ve got my stuff in the truck. Why don’t I drop it all in whichever room you want me to have, and then you can show me where you’re at with your planning.”
    “Sounds good,” Brian said. He extended his hand. “Welcome aboard, Julián.”
    “Thanks.” Julián shook his hand, binding the deal. Then he said, “I’ll just grab my stuff.” Julián turned and headed toward the back of his truck.
    “By the way, Julián, I do have one more question,” Chase said. “Do you have a last name?”
    Julián had reached into the truck bed. He turned and faced them, and Brian wondered if the man didn’t just gird his loins.
    “Yeah. It’s Alvarez.”
    “Huh.” Brian knew Alvarez wasn’t an uncommon name, especially in Central Texas. “You wouldn’t happen to be any relation to Peter Alvarez, would you?”
    “Actually that’s Peter Alvarez-Kendall,” Chase corrected him. “They all changed their names when he, Tracy, and Jordan got married.” Then he looked at Julián. “They’re our cousins.”
    Julián grabbed first one bag, and then the other out of his truck, and turned. Both hands full, he gave them a level look, and Brian wondered at the slight surprise he saw in the man’s eyes.
    “You could say we’re related,” Julián said. “Peter’s my younger brother.”
     
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