Chapter 14
COLE
I spend the entire morning loading up the truck: toolboxes, blueprints, Aria’s luggage, and half her horse-riding gear.
The rest of it is already waiting at Iron Stallion.
While doing all this, I’m trying my best not to overthink what comes next.
Moving temporarily to the Morgans’ ranch feels like stepping into someone else’s life.
Someone more put together and less complicated.
I’d happily commute every single day, but Hank Morgan insisted on me living at Iron Stallion, and I was in no position to argue.
Mom wanted to keep Aria with her, but my little girl is still traumatized by the separation during the divorce proceedings, so she’s clingier than usual.
I don’t want to be away from her either, so she’s coming with me.
Aria keeps bouncing around the truck, talking about horses, summer break, barrel racing, and how she’s going to beat her personal time before the season ends. She’s vibrating with excitement, which should be contagious, but my head isn’t fully in it.
I’m strapping down the last toolbox when my mother’s SUV pulls up.
“Yaya!” Aria squeals and runs toward her.
Mom steps out holding two fresh pies, both wrapped in foil and warm enough that I can smell the cinnamon from where I’m standing.
“Someone’s extra happy this morning,” she chuckles, as she hugs Aria with one arm, the other balancing the pies perfectly.
“I am. Are those for us?” Aria asks.
“No, they are for you to take to the Morgans,” she replies, handing them off to me. “First impressions matter.”
“Mom, they already hired me.”
“Well, then, second impressions matter. And third. And every impression until they marry you off to one of their nieces,” she teases.
“Mom,” I warn.
She gives me the look—the same one she uses when she knows something before I tell her. “Speaking of impressions,” she says, lowering her voice, “there’s a rumor spreading around town.”
My mom is not the gossipy kind, so I know whatever it is must be important. “What kinds of rumors?”
Her eyes narrow sharply. “The kind that start with Calista and end with Toby running their mouths to whoever will lend them an ear. They’re telling folks you slept your way into the job.”
I feel the hit deep in my chest. Hard. Expected, but still hard.
Mom keeps going. “They’re saying the only reason Hank Morgan hired you is because you’re involved with his daughter. That you manipulated her, and used her to get the contract for this project.”
“I didn’t manipulate her,” I grit out.
How dare they? Isn’t taking half my company enough for them? Now they’re trying to tarnish my name.
“I know that,” she nods. “But not everyone does.”
I scrub a hand over my face. I’m tired, not physically, just tired in the way you feel when the people who used to know you best take every chance to cut you lower. Calista and Toby have been waiting for ammunition. Now they think they’ve found it, and they’re not wasting time using it against me.
Mom watches me for a long second before her eyes soften. “Cole… I’m not saying this because I think you did anything wrong. I’m saying it because people talk. This town talks, and you know what happens to the people in the middle of that.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I know.”
“The Morgans already had to deal with one scandal because of Beck. I don’t want you to be the reason they have to deal with another one,” Mom adds.
“I don’t want that either.”
“Ella Morgan?” Mom’s voice is gentle, but there’s steel in it. “She’s a really nice girl, but she’s a Morgan. She’s from a different world, sweetheart. If you’re not careful, you’re the only one who’ll get hurt.”
I swallow the tight knot forming in my throat. Mom doesn’t mean to cut into me; she’s warning me, trying to protect me, but every word lands on a bruise that’s already there.
“I hear you,” I agree quietly.
“Promise me you’ll behave,” she insists. “No more… entanglements.”
Entanglements? Nice word for the three times I lost control around Ella Morgan.
I nod. “I’ll keep it professional.”
She studies me like she doesn’t fully believe me, but doesn’t push. Instead, she presses a kiss to Aria’s hair, squeezes my arm, and leaves me standing in my driveway feeling like someone rearranged the weight of my bones.
I finish packing up, make sure all the doors and windows are secure before we take off to our new temporary home for the next couple of months.
On the drive over, Aria chatters nonstop. She kicks her heels against the seat in rhythm to her excitement. “It’s going to be the best summer ever. Yaya said being a barrel racer takes dedication, bravery, and core strength, but I already have two out of three. Maybe one and a half. But I’m close.”
I smile despite the storm inside my head. “You’re going to be great.”
“Ella’s horses are the best,” she continues. “She was a champion too, you know.”
“I do know.”
Ella was a barrel racing prodigy before her accident when she was seventeen, which put her out of the game for good. I still remember when it happened. It was such a devastating time for the Morgans, but I’m thankful she lived, even though she had to give up on her dreams.
“I really like Miss Ella. I want to be a great rider like her one day. Last summer, she was at the rodeo and talked to me before I chickened out of my turn. She told me I didn’t have to be brave all at once, just brave a little at a time.
And I’ve been practicing bravery ever since,” Aria rambles on.
Something tightens in my chest. Ella leaves fingerprints everywhere and doesn’t notice a single one.
“You think she’ll help me train?” Aria asks. “Since we’ll be living there?”
I hesitate. “We can ask. But don’t push her. Ella has a lot going on.”
“She won’t mind,” Aria says confidently. “She likes me.”
“That she does,” I admit.
When we pull into Iron Stallion, the ranch spreads around us—miles of land, the red barn in the distance, horses grazing behind wooden fences, the Morgan house sitting in the center like a fortress of old wealth and old stories.
The cabin assigned to us is off to the right, close enough to the main house that it won’t feel isolated.
Ella is waiting for us outside the cabin.
She stands with her hands on her hips, hair in a messy bun, a soft tank top tucked into denim shorts. Sunlight catches in her charcoal-gray eyes, and she smiles the moment she sees Aria. Then her gaze flicks to me, and something warmer flickers there.
Don’t do that, I think. Don’t smile at me like that.
“You made it,” she cheers, walking toward us.
Aria practically launches into her arms, and Ella laughs, hugging her tight. I stand there feeling like I shouldn’t be staring, but unable to stop myself.
“I brought pie,” I say, holding out the foil-wrapped dishes.
Her face lights up. “Your mom’s pies? Are you serious? Cole, these are gold.”
I shrug. “She insisted.”
Ella beams at me, and I feel the distance I need to put between us crumble before I can even build it.
She leads us toward the cabin. From outside, it’s rustic and simple; inside, it’s warm, comfortable, and big enough for the two of us. The furniture smells faintly of pine, with the windows overlooking the lake.
“This is amazing,” Aria sighs happily, twirling in the living room.
“You haven’t even seen the riding arena yet,” Ella replies.
Aria gasps. “Can we go now? Daddy said you were going to train me.”
Ella stops and turns to me in shock. This cheeky monkey! I definitely didn’t say that. I am about to defend myself, but Aria keeps going. “He said that since you were a champion, no one is a greater fit to train me.”
“I didn’t say—“ I start.
Ella glances at me, and I see her hesitation. I take note of the old hurt flash behind her eyes—the accident that stole her career, the fear she carries beneath her smile, the quiet grief she thinks no one notices.
“I said we’d ask her,” I correct gently.
Aria grabs Ella’s hands. “Please? Will you train me, Miss Ella? I promise I’ll work hard. I’ve watched all your old winning videos. You were so amazing, and I’d love to be just like you. Pretty please. I’ll do my best.”
Ella looks at her, then at me. She’s reluctant, and I am not about to force her to accept this.
“You don’t have to,” I quickly step in. “I know—“
She holds her hand up to stop me, something shifting in her expression—resolve settling over uncertainty.
“It would be my honor,” she finally accepts.
Aria cheers, hugging her again. Ella’s smile is wide and real, but there’s something else beneath it—something I can’t let myself go near.
When Aria runs outside to explore, I pull Ella aside near the porch steps. She straightens, surprised by the seriousness in my voice. “I need to talk to you.”
Her smile softens. “Okay. What’s wrong?”
Everything. Nothing. All of it at once.
“I just…” I exhale slowly. “I’d like to apologize.”
Her brows lift. “For what?”
“For the past few weeks,” I say. “For the… situations we got into.”
Her expression falters, just barely. “Situations?”
“Yes. It wasn’t fair to you,” I continue. “I know your family would never approve of someone like me. I know how it looks. And Calista and Toby are already spreading rumors around town.”
The more I talk, the more it sounds like I’m making excuses, but I already promised my mom, and with everything going on, I know it’s necessary.
She stiffens. “Cole—“
“I’m not saying this because I regret anything. Because I don’t. But I can’t let things get messy. Not while I’m working for your family. You fought to get me this job. I owe you more than… temptation.”
The moment the word leaves my mouth, I see the hurt hit her eyes—quick but sharp.
“I’ll stick to my work,” I finish. “And when this project is done, I’ll get back on my feet, and you won’t have to worry about people talking.”
She swallows hard, folding her arms like she’s bracing herself against the wind. “Are you seriously doing this right now?”
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, but I know it’s not enough to fix the damage I’ve done.
Ella smiles, a crisp, bitter smile. “Right. Well… good. That’s… good.”
Her voice is steady, but her eyes aren’t. And the part of me that has always wanted to pull her into my arms and protect her forever now feels like it’s been hollowed out.
“Shiloh—“
“It’s fine,” she says quickly. “You’re right. We should keep things professional.”
She forces a smile and steps back. Aria yells from inside the cabin, calling me to look at something.
“You should go,” she whispers, before turning away from me and walking away, her shoulders straight, her spine stiff.
When she gets to the porch of the main house, she hesitates, just for a breath, and I see it.
The hurt, disappointment, and the part of her that thought I would choose her, even just for a moment. Then she disappears. And I’m left standing on the porch, wondering which mistake will cost me more—falling for her… or convincing her I shouldn’t.