He took the chair across from her, praying he wasn't getting anything nasty on the upholstery. "I'm sorry."
It was his standard answer. They both knew it. They both knew he was sorry. He just didn't know how to make his stepbrothers feel regret.
Somehow, Carol had made them believe they could get away with whatever they wanted. No matter how many times he grounded them or took away their video games, they couldn't seem to understand that their actions had consequences.
In two more years, Robbie had a chance to get out of this town. To go to college and be something.
"Both boys were in Sam's classroom before the bell rang and were cutting up with some friends. The teacher overheard some inappropriate things and asked the boys to quit the conversation. But Robbie and Sam shouted at the teacher. They cursed at him and were threatening bodily harm before another teacher and myself diffused the situation. They've both received detentions after football practice for a week."
Ethan nodded, stunned. How could his stepbrothers do something like this?
"There's another issue that we need to discuss. Both your stepbrothers are failing their French classes. If they can't get their grades up by mid-term, they won't be eligible to finish the football season."
Now Ethan felt as if he'd been sucker-punched. "How bad is it? Is there make up work they can do?"
"I've talked to the French teacher, and unless they put some real work into it, they're going to be so far behind that they'll never catch up. He's offered two make-up tests. Verbal tests."
She reached a piece of paper over the desk, and he took it with a sense of doom. He knew the boys had to have two foreign-language credits to get into college. Sam was enrolled in the basic-level French, while Robbie was taking his second year. And that with their mediocre grades, football scholarships were the only way they were going to be able to afford tuition.
He stared at the paper in his hand. He'd barely passed his own high school foreign language classes because he'd been working so many hours outside of school. And that had been years ago. There was no way could he tutor them himself. And with their budget so tight, how could he afford to pay someone?
The principal sighed. She stood and came around the desk, leaning her hip against its edge.
"Ethan." She sighed, and he braced himself.
"Have you thought about just... letting the boys go?"
That was totally unexpected.
Letting them go?
"Everyone in town admired what you did when your stepmother died. God knows you didn't have to take on the care of two minors when you were that young."
At the time, he hadn't felt as if he'd had a choice. The boys had needed him, and he'd had those memories of his father's death burned into his mind.
"You've nearly killed yourself since you were sixteen to keep that farm going, and none of your family appreciated you. Robbie and Sam are old enough now to understand consequences. I don't think anybody would blame you if you let them go into the system."
He couldn't find words. His gut reaction was denial. How could he turn his back on his stepbrothers? When they'd lost so much, just like he had. He was the only family they had left.
He shoved to his feet, the turmoil in his gut causing enough agitation that he couldn't remain seated. "Thanks for your concern. I'll talk to them about—" He waved the paper still clutched in his hand.
"Ethan."
He was enough of a rule-follower that he stopped in the doorway.
"I didn't mean to cause offense." Her voice and expression conveyed apology, but he wasn't offended. Just shocked.
"You've given so much...first to your stepmother, and now to the boys. But what about yourself? When do you get to live?"
Heat burned his face. He didn't have an answer. If he didn't work the dairy, they didn't eat. Just making their bills left him no time for anything else—much less figuring out a plan.
He excused himself, making his way out of the quiet school while the principal's words clattered in his mind.
The visitors' lot was adjacent to the football field, and he stopped near the chain-link fence that separated the field from the sidewalk. He rested his palm on the cool metal bar at the top of the fence.
Let them go? All the years he'd cared for his brothers, he'd never considered sending them into the system. Foster care.
It felt horrible to think it, but the idea was appealing. They'd never appreciated all he'd done for them, no more than their mother had. He could relinquish his ornery stepbrothers to the state and get on with his life.
But they were family—sort of. Hadn't he promised his father he'd show them how to be real men? He hadn't done that yet. And even though they were more trouble than a stall full of cow dung, they were his brothers.
Stepbrothers who, at the rate they were going, wouldn't make it into college, scholarship or not. He'd staked everything, his entire future, on the fact that the boys would leave for college after graduation.
Today's news was especially painful after the vet's reminder of what he'd given up.
One of the coaches shouted, and the offensive line, including Robbie and Sam, rushed forward, smashing their bodies against a series of weighted sleds with dummies atop them. Ethan's brothers rammed into those dummies like they rammed through life, destroying everything in their path without as much as a glance to see the damage they left in their wake.
What was he supposed to do if they lost their chance to go to college? He wouldn't continue to support them past their eighteenth birthdays. College was their chance to make something of themselves. A chance he hadn't had.
How could he convince them not to squander it?
From further down the field, the quarterback threw a long, spiral pass to one of the receivers under the watchful eyes of the assistant coach.
Ethan would have given anything to have played. He'd started on peewee teams at five. He and his dad had loved playing catch. Making plans for JV and varsity. If his dad had lived, Ethan knew he would've been at every game. They'd even talked a little about what colleges Ethan might go to on a football scholarship, when it was time.
But all those dreams had died with Dad.
This was Ethan's reality now. He needed to find a way to convince Robbie and Sam to straighten up for these last two years of school. To move on. Then, when they were both gone, he could start making plans for himself.
* * *
Trey's mysterious phone call had led to a mysterious errand, which left Mia and Apollo at loose ends.
Today's crisp autumn weather was lovely, and she didn't mind taking the dog for a walk, though she was aware of the two royal security team members following not far behind. She was more aware of them than ever, after the limousine she'd been riding in had nearly been the victim of a bombing a few months ago in Glorvaird.
Apollo had relaxed since his exam, since they'd left the veterinarian's office. Now he walked jauntily at her side.
She'd turned off of quaint Main Street and onto a more residential road, and before she knew it, they'd stumbled upon the local high school.
Curious, mostly because she'd never had any typical high school experiences, only tutors, she let herself and Apollo wander in that direction.
She was rounding a lush, green exercise field of some sort when she caught sight of a familiar figure, standing alone at the fence.
Ethan.
Perhaps it was her day to run into the cowboy-farmer-jack-of-all-trades. He'd been professional and polite in the vet's office earlier. No sign of the blushing young man that had ducked his head shyly at the Triple H. She didn't know why, but she was surprised to have discovered that at one time he'd had bigger dreams.
What had stopped him from chasing them?
Now he appeared pensive. Maybe upset. What was he doing at the school anyway? He was too young to have high school-aged children.
She should leave it alone. Leave him alone, but she found her feet carrying her in that direction anyway.
> She hadn't been paying attention to the activity on the field beyond the cowboy, but as she moved to join him, several young men wearing padding and helmets crashed into each other, tackling one another to the ground.
She jumped, Apollo lunged, and she squeaked as she gripped his leash tighter. Ethan turned toward her.
She didn't know what expression he wore, if he were surprised to see here, because she couldn't tear her eyes from the players who were... it looked like they were lining up to get ready to tackle each other again!
The hand that wasn't holding Apollo's leash came up to cover her mouth.
"I guess you've never seen American football before," Ethan said dryly, finally pulling her gaze to him.
He'd lost the pensive look he'd worn before he'd known she was there, but instead of smiling, he wore a slightly-guarded look. Or maybe haunted.
Whatever it was, it bothered her.
She didn't know him from Adam, but from that first day, there'd been something that drew her to him. And while she knew she couldn't make everyone happy, she could usually draw a smile from most people.
"This would be my first taste of American football," she agreed, stepping slightly closer.
Ethan bent to greet Apollo, and the dog gave him a happy smile and a wag of his tail, not holding against Ethan what had happened in the vet's office earlier.
"They're practicing...?" she guessed of the football players.
"Yeah." He scratched Apollo's ears and straightened to his full height, his Stetson throwing shadows across his face. "Not as much now that season is here, but twice a day in the early fall."
Something in his expression... a wistfulness as he watched the players, prompted her to ask, "Did you play?"
Now a shadow passed behind his eyes. "No."
He didn't offer more of an explanation, but somehow she knew there was something he wasn't saying.
He nodded to the field. "My stepbrothers are out there. Robbie and Sam."
She looked but couldn't differentiate one boy from another with their identical, unnumbered training jerseys and helmets.
"So they just...keep crashing into each other?" she asked.
She wasn't looking directly at him but had enough of a view of his face to see the side of his mouth quirk up. "No. In a real game, the goal is to get the ball into the other team's end zone. That's the other end of the field. It's how you score points."
"And the other team wants to stop you?" she asked. "Thus, the...crashing?"
"Tackling. Yeah, you've got it." He had a nice smile, when he'd relaxed enough to show it. "Football is pretty intense around here. The whole town gets into it. You should take in a game while you're in town."
"Oh, that'd be fun! When?"
She watched in fascination as his face filled with color in a wave from his chin to the place where his forehead disappeared into his hat. He coughed a little into his fist.
"Erm, there's a game on Friday night." His voice sounded a little as if he'd swallowed a frog.
"Lovely! You could pick me up. What time should I be ready?"
His face had gone an even deeper shade of red, and she wondered if he'd spend the whole of Friday night looking as if he'd choked something down the wrong pipe.
"Six, I guess."
One of her security team cleared his throat, and she looked behind to see him jerking his chin, like they needed to be going. She sighed and turned back to the cowboy. "Here, let me borrow your phone."
He looked flummoxed, and she couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips. "I'll input my number, in case you need to reach me."
He dug in his front pocket and came up with an older model flip-phone. She schooled her reaction, because she hadn't seen one in years. Tilted her head. "You know what, why don't you add your number to mine?"
She drew her metallic, thin smart phone, from her pocket, and with a few flicks of her fingers, pulled up her contacts list.
He fumbled it when she handed him the phone. "Sorry," he muttered.
She couldn't help noticing his calloused hands as he input the digits and wondered what it would feel like to have one of them holding hers. Of all the men she'd dated—royals and businessmen and the one soccer player—none of them had been anything like Ethan.
Maybe that was why she was so drawn to him.
She pondered it as she took her phone back, said a quick goodbye, and turned her steps back toward the street where Trey had parked the Triple H's farm truck. She couldn't help looking over her shoulder as she walked away.
Ethan had returned to leaning on the fence, his posture once again slightly withdrawn.
She had to remember her promise. No matter how much she was attracted to the shy cowboy, she wasn't kissing anyone. Not until she met the one.
But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the company of one handsome cowboy.
3
Ethan wasn't sure exactly how this had happened as he turned his truck down the Triple H's drive just after six on Friday night.
Somehow, he'd been wrangled into a date with Princess Mia.
Him.
On a date.
With a princess.
He'd cleaned out most of the junk that regularly accumulated in his truck, but he'd hoped to have time to run it through the car wash and vacuum it. Unfortunately, an issue with one of the milking machines had delayed him by an hour this afternoon, and he'd barely gotten a shower.
So he'd stuck one of those air fresheners on the heating vent and hoped for the best.
There wasn't any use in pretending to be something he wasn't. His truck was fifteen years old, the same one that Dad had bought for the dairy before he'd passed.
If she hadn't already figured out that Ethan wasn't made of money, she would soon.
Surprisingly, they'd texted a couple of times since Wednesday. The first time her name had popped up his phone's screen, he'd stared for a good minute before he'd decided to answer.
Mia: what does one wear to a high school football game?
He was twenty-six and had never dated before. No one that he'd been interested in had been interested in him, for obvious reasons.
He'd fumbled his way through a response.
Ethan: jeans.
Mia: I won't be out of place without a team sweatshirt or something?
Ethan: No.
The next day, she'd texted him mid-morning, but when he'd expected another query about the football game, instead she'd asked whether he could teach her to ride a horse. When he'd agreed, she'd sent:
Mia: Good, then we need to schedule date #2.
He'd stared at that one for even longer than her first, unexpected message. Date #2? That meant she thought of the football game as Date #1, didn't it?
No idea what to do with that.
So here he was, a moron who didn't know quite what to expect going on a date with someone so out of his stratosphere. Out of his galaxy, even.
One at a time, he rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans.
He pulled into the Triple H drive, as always, unable to keep from enjoying the rolling pastures as the old truck slowly rolled toward the house. Being here always reminded him of what he'd lost with Dad's passing. Land. Home. Security.
When he reached the ranch house, two guys in dark suits and even darker glasses strode off the porch. They met him as he got out of the truck. While he hadn't known Mia was a princess that very first day, he'd certainly gotten a crash course. This must be her security team.
"You got anything on you? Weapons, drugs?" One of the guys asked the questions as the other one cranked open the truck door and leaned inside. Without permission.
"No," Ethan said.
Apparently they weren't taking his word for it. The guy forcibly turned Ethan around and started patting him down. Ethan wore a long-sleeved T-shirt beneath his corduroy jacket and jeans. There wasn't any place to hide anything interesting, and the security guy was done in moments.
It didn't stop Ethan from being embarrassed as
the goon backed off, leaving Ethan to turn and face the house.
"Gideon!" He thought that was Mia's voice calling out from inside, though it might've been her sister.
What had he gotten himself into? He left the security guys to search his truck and headed for the house. When he hit the porch steps, he could see inside the half-open front door. Mia had her hands on her hips and was staring down the rancher, though she was a head shorter. "You promised your goons wouldn't harass Ethan."
That she'd used the same word to describe them as Ethan had cheered him.
"Just because we're in Texas, and just because Ethan's done some jobs for me, doesn't mean I can forgo basic safety precautions. There's still a real threat against the Glorvaird crown and I have to—"
"Is there really?" she demanded, and he had to admire the fire blazing from her eyes. He was a little glad it wasn't directed at him. "Because nothing has happened in months."
"That doesn't mean that nothing will happen," Gideon returned.
She hesitated, her shoulders heaving with breath as if she'd been about to blast him again.
"Um, knock knock?" Ethan said through the open door.
Mia turned to him immediately, her blonde hair billowing in a curtain behind her. He got a look at the slim black pants and that rhinestone-encrusted jean jacket she'd worn the day they'd met. She looked relieved to have an out from the conversation with her soon-to-be brother-in-law.
She motioned him in, and he stepped over the threshold.
"I'm really sorry," she said quietly, looking up into his eyes with a sincerity that couldn't be faked.
He got tongue-tied in the face of her beauty and had to settle for a shrug. "It's okay," he finally managed.
She looked over his shoulder, frowning, and he followed her gaze to see the security guys sweeping beneath his truck with a mirror on a stick. Were they seriously looking for a bomb or something?
He shook his head slightly. "They won't find anything."
"Good." Gideon moved forward and clapped Ethan on the shoulder. "What time you do expect to have her back?"
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