13. Carter
Chapter thirteen
Carter
Carter tossed and turned for the nineteenth time that night.
No matter how comfortable he was, he couldn’t turn his mind off.
The gingerbread house competition wasn’t a total failure.
He’d consider it more like fifty-fifty, and with this family, that might as well have been declared a total victory.
Though what Gabe had said to him still played on repeat in his mind.
No matter what, Gabe would always look down his nose at him. And it shouldn’t matter. His dad used to say, “They may have the money, but without us, they couldn’t boil a pot of water.”
Gabe could look at him as if he were a nobody. All he could see was their class status, as if the estate manager was nearly a peasant amongst him.
It was why he was so angry when he discovered Carter coming out of the stables after Ashley all those years ago.
He could still feel the blast of Gabe’s fist to his kidney as he was caught by complete surprise.
The way the ice-cold snow seeped through his jeans and burned his skin when he doubled over and lost his balance.
Carter knew how to fight, but when he was sucker-punched, he had been at a disadvantage. He’d quickly recovered, forcing the pain aside as he’d jumped back to his feet. He didn’t want to hurt Gabe because hurting Gabe would inevitably hurt Ashley, but Gabe squared off with him.
He tossed the blankets from him, refusing to go down that road. He kicked his legs over the side of the bed and headed toward the kitchen. Tiny usually left a few biscuits out. If he couldn’t sleep, he could always eat.
He closed the door of the bedroom that once belonged to his father. It had been his for years, yet sometimes it still felt borrowed.
The hallways were long and dark, but he’d walked them so many times he could do it blindfolded.
When his dad died, he almost expected Bill to toss his ass out, but kept him on, giving him the option of moving out of the small bedroom he was in or moving into his dad’s old room.
It took a year before he finally moved in.
It had been weird at first. Almost as if he were invading a space that was never his. He’d thought about moving off the estate, but living expenses were too high. Bill covered all of that on top of his salary. So he stayed. Because of that, he had a decent amount of money in savings.
Somewhere along the way, Winterridge had stopped being the place he worked and had become the only home he had left.
With Winterridge being his life, and Bill and the rest of the staff at Winterridge being his only friends, he really had no need to spend money.
He invested in good suits because he knew it made Bill happy.
It was his subtle way of saying thank you to the man who kept him housed and employed when the only family he ever had died.
Carter stepped into the kitchen, about to flick on the light, when his eyes caught the faint glow of the refrigerator.
He froze for a second, eyes lingering on the silhouette.
The light caught her, spotlighting the green silk pajamas that clung to her thin frame.
Her dark hair hung over her shoulder in a single braid, and he imagined wrapping it around his hand as she screamed his name.
Ashley stood barefoot in front of the open refrigerator, tapping her lip and tilting her head as she pondered the items inside.
For a moment, Carter forgot how to breathe.
She shifted slightly, the green silk tightening across her hip.
He let his gaze linger for longer than was proper.
Ashley grabbed a bottle of sparkling water and a container of fresh-cut strawberries.
She spun toward the counter, a high-pitched squeak bursting from her mouth as her entire body jolted backward. Her hand slammed against her chest.
“Jesus! You scared me,” she said as he stepped farther into the kitchen. “Do you always sneak around like that?”
“Sorry.” His voice roughened with lack of sleep and desire. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
The refrigerator door closed, plunging them into complete darkness. “Oh,” Ashley muttered.
Carter turned to the wall, flicking the switch that turned the light above the counter on. A dim glow illuminated above them.
“Thank you,” Ashley said, placing the bottle of sparkling water and strawberries on the counter. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”
“No,” he admitted, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter. “Thought I’d look for some of Tiny’s biscuits before she hides them from Clint tomorrow morning.”
“He’s still putting back the food like a trash compactor?”
“Yup, and still fit as can be.”
“Most people's metabolism slows down as they age, but clearly Clint’s didn’t get the memo.”
“He’s also slinging saddles and wrangling horses all day, so that might have something to do with it.”
“I haven’t seen the horses yet. Is Mabel still here?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Old girl’s still here.”
Ashley’s face softened, her lips curving upward. “Really?”
“She’s pushing fifteen now, but you’d never know it watching her move.”
“She has to be one of the oldest in the stable now.”
“She is.” He nodded. “Clint retired her from pulling last year, but she acts like she’s five whenever the snow starts falling. Gets all worked up and starts stomping around the paddock until Clint lets her out to run around in it.”
Ashley laughed. “That sounds like Mabel.”
“She’s had a few foals too. Two of them ended up in the show circuit.
” Pride threaded into his voice without meaning to.
But just like everything else at Winterridge, he had a hand in helping.
“One took first at the county draft showcase three years ago.” Bill and the staff popped a bottle of champagne that evening to celebrate.
“Did Clint cry?”
“Oh, buckets.”
Her smile widened, and his gut tightened painfully at the sight. God, he missed her. Missed this. Nights when the entire house was asleep, but they had each other.
“She used to let me braid ribbons into her mane before the Christmas parade.” Her eyes drifted away, her smile drooping into tender sadness. “Grandma Lily used to pretend not to be horrified at how many I used.”
“You always did use too many.”
Her eyes met his. “You never stopped me.”
That’s because he would let her do whatever the hell she wanted. Heck, he’d probably let her braid ribbons in his hair if it were long enough.
“It made you happy,” he said.
Red blossomed on her cheeks, spreading upward. “It did.” She brought a strawberry to her mouth, her lips closing over the berry in a way that shouldn’t have been erotic, but his mind was long since in the gutter. He swallowed, knowing those lips were capable of bringing him to his knees.
“I’m surprised Grandpa kept the horses. They were Grandma Lily’s thing.”
“I think it was his way of holding onto a piece of her. Especially after he lost the whole family, too.”
Ashley looked down at the strawberry in her hand, turning it slowly between her fingers. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what Uncle Rick said. He wasn’t wrong.”
“No,” Carter said. “He was not.” Carter stole a strawberry from the bowl and took a bite. “I’d argue that his timing sucked.”
Ashley snorted. “You think? Grandma Lily was lying in the coffin, and he stood right beside it berating every one of us. I honestly expected her to sit up and smack him.”
“Your aunt Marilyn had that covered.”
“The slap heard round Winterridge,” Ashley said. “I’d never been so shocked in my life, and I grew up in this house with this family.”
“That’s because Lily had a way of not letting things go too far. Without her…”
“We all went too far.”
Silence spread between them before Carter cleared his throat.
“You should talk to him.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You can because you have the same spirit as your grandmother. You believe in second chances, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it at first. He fucked up.
No one is saying he didn’t. Especially him.
But should that one moment when he was at his most vulnerable be the thing that defines his entire legacy? ”
“My number one task since everyone arrived is to keep you here. You’ve always been his favorite.”
“Really?” she exclaimed, bringing another strawberry to her lips. “Feels more like you’ve been trying to send me packing.”
He let out a breath and stepped around the counter until he was right beside her. She turned in her seat, her big brown eyes gazing up at him. She was fresh-faced, not a stitch of makeup on her porcelain skin. Yet she still glowed with an inner beauty that could never be extinguished.
“That was never my intention. It’s just…
” It was now or never. They weren’t arguing.
They were speaking like two civilized adults.
What was that old saying? The truth will set you free.
“I have a lot of regrets in my life. Most of them involve you. Seeing you, being near you, it stirs things up I long ago shoved down.”
“What regrets?”
“Letting you go. Not going after you. I told myself it was for the best, but that didn’t mean I didn’t try to un-convince myself every second of the day for years. Do you know what it’s like to want something so bad, but you can’t have it?”
“Yes,” she said, barely above a whisper.
The admission hung between them.
Ashley’s eyes locked on his, her fingers still wrapped around the strawberry she’d forgotten to eat. There was no teasing in her expression now. The walls she’d been keeping up started to lower, revealing her true self.
“Every day,” she admitted. “For a long time, I wondered what would’ve happened if things were different. If I weren’t a Wetherby. If you weren’t a Reeves. If we had just met on the streets of New York, far away from Winterridge. Maybe we could have been happy.”
“Ashley—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head. “You asked.”