Chapter Fifteen
Carter drove toward the Evans estate with the windows cracked, morning air cutting across his face. He tried to focus on the road, but his mind kept circling the same damn thing—Ethan. Not the job. Not the ranch. Ethan.
He’d told himself he took this position because he needed steady work, but that lie didn’t hold anymore. The kid had gotten under his skin in one day. One. And now Carter was marching straight into the lion’s den to tell Mr. Evans how things were going to be. He wasn’t sure how that would go.
He knew one thing though—Ethan deserved a chance to be whoever he wanted to be, not whatever his father tried to mold him into. And if Carter had to stand between them to make that happen, he would.
Carter turned into the long drive of the Evans estate with his jaw set and one hand locked around the wheel.
He’d been gripping it so hard his knuckles ached, but he didn’t loosen up.
Not yet. Not when he still felt the echo of last night—the pounding on the barn door, Ethan’s voice shaking on the phone, the look on the kid’s face when Carter showed up.
He pulled up to the big house, parked, and took a breath before heading to the front door. His boots hit the gravel harder than he meant. Mrs. Evans opened the door before he even knocked. Her eyes searched his face like she expected bad news.
“Morning, ma’am.” Carter removed his cowboy hat.
“Mr. Higgins,” she said. “Is everything alright?”
He nodded once, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “I’m here to speak to your husband.”
She stepped aside. “Come in.”
Carter wiped his palms on his jeans before crossing the threshold. He never did that. But the house felt too polished, too quiet, and he didn’t want to track in the mess he carried with him.
“How is Ethan doing?”
“He’s doing okay,” Carter said. “Just being Ethan.”
Her shoulders eased a little. “Where is he now?”
“Working at the stables, ma’am.”
Mrs. Evans led him down the hall, glancing back at him more than once. He kept his eyes forward, jaw tight, trying not to think about how Ethan had looked this morning—tired, jumpy, trying too hard to stay out of trouble. The kid shouldn’t have to live like that.
She stopped at the office door. “He’s inside.”
Carter nodded and stepped in.
“Take a seat,” Mr. Evans directed.
Mr. Evans sat after Carter, as if it were a power move. “So,” Mr. Evans said, folding his hands, “what’s on your mind at this early hour?”
Carter didn’t dance around it. “In order for me to do my job and work with Ethan, I need your hands off.”
Mr. Evans’ brow lifted. “What do you mean? I gave you full authority—both on the ranch and with Ethan.”
“You did,” Carter said, “but I need to move Ethan to my cabin.”
Mr. Evans blinked. “He’s being punished by staying alone in the barn. Why would you want him around? He’ll drive you insane.”
Carter leaned forward. “I can’t watch him at night if he’s alone in the barn. He could leave at any point. I want total control to keep him in check.”
Mr. Evans frowned. “I’m not sure how that would look.”
Carter’s voice dropped. “Are you more interested in making your son a man, or do you want to punish him like a child?”
Mr. Evans let out a long breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose like the words pained him.
“Ethan… he’s always been the kid who pushes every damn boundary just to see if it’ll hold.
Never listens. Never stays where he’s supposed to.
You give him an inch, he’ll take the whole ranch and swear it’s your fault for leaving the gate open.
” He shook his head, eyes fixed on the window instead of Carter.
“He’s got every advantage in the world and still manages to make a mess of it.
I don’t know what to do with him anymore. ”
Carter shook his head. “You said some guys were after him for money. You didn’t detail that enough.”
“It’s not something I want to discuss in detail.”
“Well, I’m going to,” Carter said. “Last night two guys pounded on the barn door. They had weapons. He’s not safe in the barn. Ethan called me and asked for help.”
Mr. Evans stiffened. “Weapons?”
Didn’t ask if Ethan was hurt. Didn’t ask what happened. He just stared out the window again.
Carter’s hands curled into fists before he forced them open. “He called me for help. Not you. Me.”
Silence stretched.
Carter continued, “And if I hadn’t shown up, I don’t know what would’ve happened. Do you?”
Silence stretched. Heavy. Thick.
Mr. Evans didn’t answer that. He just waved a hand, dismissive. “Fine. If you think you can handle him, take him. But don’t come back complaining when he turns your life upside down.”
Carter stood. “I’ll manage.”
“Is that all?”
Carter didn’t hesitate. “He needs a vehicle to do his job.”
“What kind of vehicle?”
“A truck.”
Mr. Evans nodded once. “I’ll have his truck moved to your cabin today.”
Carter stood. “Good.”
He didn’t say thank you. Didn’t need to. He walked out with one thing clear in his mind: Ethan was his responsibility now. And he wasn’t letting anyone—father, thugs, or fate—take that kid out from under his watch.
Carter drove straight from the Evans estate to the stables, gravel popping under the truck tires.
His grip stayed tight on the wheel the whole way.
He’d gotten what he came for, but the conversation left a weight low in his gut, the kind that didn’t ease with distance.
Mr. Evans talked about Ethan like he was a chore, something to keep contained.
Carter knew better. The kid needed structure, sure—but he also needed someone who actually gave a damn. And Carter did. More than he should.
He pulled up beside the barn and spotted Ethan brushing down Storm, sleeves pushed up, hair falling into his eyes. The kid looked tired but focused. Good. Working kept him steady.
Carter stepped out of the truck. “Ethan. Come here a minute.”
Ethan froze mid-stroke, then hurried over, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Boss? Everything okay?”
Carter nodded once. “Yeah. Got something to tell you.”
Ethan’s eyes flickered over Carter’s face, searching for clues. “Did… did the meeting go bad?”
Carter shook his head. “No. You’re moving to the cabin.”
Ethan blinked. “Wait—what?”
“You heard me,” Carter said. “After lunch you pack your things. You’re staying with me from now on.”
For a second, Ethan stared, as if the words didn’t land. Then his whole face lit up, bright and relieved in a way that sent a sharp pull through Carter’s stomach, like the ground shifted under him.
“Thank you,” Ethan said, voice cracking a little. “Seriously. Thank you.”
Carter looked away before that feeling got too strong. “Don’t thank me yet. You’re still working extra hours.”
Ethan laughed under his breath. “I don’t care. I’ll work all day and night.”
“Yeah, well, don’t say that too loud,” Carter said. “I’ll hold you to it.”
Ethan grinned, and something hot flickered through Carter before he could brace for it.
Damn kid had no idea what he stirred up.
Carter forced a slow breath, steadying the sudden rush in his pulse.
He needed distance, needed to keep his reactions under control before they slipped somewhere they shouldn’t.
“Wash up. Lunch break,” Carter said.
Ethan washed his hands with soap in the outside sink and dried them with a paper towel from under the sink, then trashed it.
“Come on,” Carter said. “Get in the truck.”
Ethan didn’t argue. He jogged over, climbed in, and buckled up. Carter watched him out of the corner of his eye as he pulled onto the road. Ethan sat with one knee bouncing, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt—nervous energy, but excited too.
“Have you ever been to the Blue Star on a workday?” Carter asked.
“Nope.”
“You’re about to.”
For a minute, they drove in comfortable quiet, the unspoken understanding filling the car. Ethan kept sneaking glances at him, like he couldn’t believe this was real.
“You don’t have to take me out,” Ethan said. “I know you’re busy.”
“I’m taking you,” Carter said. “You need a meal that isn’t stress and cigarettes.”
Ethan grinned. “Fair.”
Carter pulled into the diner lot and parked. The place smelled like coffee, cheeseburgers, and fries from the parking lot.
The diner door chimed when they stepped inside, warm air and the smell of frying onions rolling over them. Ethan looked around like he hadn’t been out in a while, shoulders loosening just a little. Carter caught that and something settled in him—something he didn’t want to name.
Andrew spotted them from behind the counter and grinned. “Well, look who came back. Thought you two were avoiding my cooking.”
Carter snorted. “No way.”
Andrew laughed and waved them toward a booth. “Sit anywhere. I’ll be right over.”
They slid into the same booth as last time. Ethan pressed his palms against the table, eyes bright, like this was some kind of treat. Carter tried not to stare at that.
Andrew came by with two steaming mugs of coffee. “On the house. Thanks for coming in again.”
“Appreciate it,” Carter said.
Ethan nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
Andrew pulled out his notepad. “What’ll it be today?”
“Cheeseburgers,” Carter said. “Fries. Two cokes.”
“Got it.” Andrew tapped the table once and headed back to the kitchen.
Ethan watched him go, then leaned in a little. “He’s married, you know.”
Carter blinked. “Andrew?”
“Yeah. To a guy.”
Carter shrugged. “Good for them.”
Ethan studied him, like he expected some kind of negative reaction.
Carter kept his face neutral, even though something warm flickered in his chest—not about Andrew, but about Ethan trusting him with that detail.
Like he was testing the waters. The kid had no idea who Carter was and he had no idea why Ethan told him that information about Andrew.
Carter cleared his throat. “You know half the town comes here because Andrew and his brother Joe make the best damn pie in the county.”
Ethan smiled. “I didn’t know that. My family never ate here.”
“You will,” Carter said. “I’ll bring you back.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them. Ethan’s smile widened, soft and open in a way that made Carter’s pulse jump. He looked away, pretending to study the menu he didn’t need.
Careful, he told himself. Don’t let this turn into something it shouldn’t. But Ethan kept looking at him like he’d hung the moon, and Carter felt a slow, steady heat build low through his body. Not dangerous. Not yet. But close.
Carter wrapped his hands around the mug to ground himself. “Eat first,” he said. “Then we’ll talk about moving your stuff.”
The kid nodded, still smiling. And Carter knew he was in deeper than he meant to be.
Ethan wrapped his hands around his cup like he needed the warmth. Carter watched him for a moment—too long, probably. The kid had this way of looking hopeful and lost at the same time, and it did something to him. Something he shouldn’t let it do.
He cleared his throat. “You’ll move your stuff after work. Truck’s coming to the cabin later.”
Ethan’s eyes brightened again. “My truck?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s… that’s awesome.”
Carter looked down at his coffee. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“It is a big deal,” Ethan said. “No one’s ever—”
He stopped himself, but Carter heard the rest anyway. A tightness climbed up his throat, the kind that made it hard to speak without giving something away. He looked out the window instead of at Ethan’s face.
He told himself to keep things straight—clear roles, clear boundaries.
Responsibility first. Nothing more. But when he looked back and caught Ethan smiling at him like he’d done something heroic, a quiet jolt ran through him, sharp enough to make his hands still on the table.
Whatever boundary he’d tried to set felt like it was already shifting under his boots.
He’s your responsibility, not your… anything else.
Ethan was still grinning, and something hot flickered through Carter before he could brace for it.
Damn kid had no idea what he stirred up.
Carter forced a slow breath, steadying the sudden rush in his pulse.
He needed distance, needed to keep his reactions under control before they slipped somewhere they shouldn’t. And he knew he was in trouble.