“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 beforeI 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.
