Page 6 of King of the Weld (The Morrison Brothers #1)

I shoot him a warning look. "This is my niece, Sophia. She's visiting from Seattle."

If Jack is surprised by this lie, he hides it well, though his eyebrows lift slightly.

"Niece? I didn't know Marcus had a daughter your age." Dave asks.

Shit. I hadn't considered that Dave could know our brother Marcus doesn't have a daughter in her twenties. Before I can formulate a response, Sophia steps forward.

"Uncle Marcus doesn't talk about us much," she says smoothly, her voice taking on a slightly different cadence—less cultured, more casual.

"Mom and he had a falling out years ago.

This is actually the first time I've met Uncle Ethan in person.

Thought it was time to connect with the Morrison side of the family. "

She delivers the lie with such natural ease that even I almost believe it. Dave's face clears, accepting the explanation without question.

"Well, welcome to Pine Haven, Sophia," he says, tipping his cowboy hat.

"Thank you," she replies with a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "It's nice to meet you."

Dave clears his throat, bringing the focus back to business. "Let me show you what we're dealing with, Morrison. These railings have seen better days."

I follow him to the arena, leaving Sophia with Jack, a calculated risk, but necessary. I need to focus on this job if I'm going to give them an accurate quote.

The railings are indeed in rough shape: corroded in places, welds breaking, structural integrity compromised. Not a simple fix, but not beyond my capabilities either.

"What happened to the crew that was supposed to handle this?" I ask Dave as I examine a particularly bad section.

"Budget cuts," he says with a grimace. "County slashed our maintenance fund, so we went with the lowest bidder. They took one look at this and said it was more work than they signed up for."

I nod, understanding the situation. "It's not a small job. I'll need at least a week, maybe more, working full days."

"Can you do it? The rodeo's in three weeks, and these need to be solid. Safety inspectors will shut us down otherwise."

I consider the timeline, the scope of work, and my new complication—Sophia. Taking this job means being in town daily, being visible. But it also means money we need, and a reason for Sophia to be seen with me regularly without raising suspicion.

"I can do it," I confirm. "But my materials cost will be higher than you might expect. I don't cut corners on safety equipment."

Dave looks relieved. "Whatever it takes, Morrison. Jack says you're the best, and we need the best for this."

We discuss specifics—start date, payment terms, material requirements. I'll begin the day after tomorrow, which gives me time to prepare and get Sophia settled into whatever our temporary arrangement will be.

When we return to where I left her with my brother, I find them in what appears to be an animated conversation about horses.

Sophia is nodding along as he describes his latest rodeo performance, her expression interested without revealing that she probably knows more about championship thoroughbreds than my brother will ever learn about quarter horses.

"We're all set," I announce, interrupting whatever story Jack is regaling her with. "I start Monday."

"Great!" My brother claps me on the shoulder. "I was just telling Sophia she should come watch me ride next weekend. Small local competition, nothing fancy, but it'll give her a taste of what we do around here."

Sophia glances at me, uncertainty in her eyes. "That sounds fun," she says.

"We'll see," I add, wanting to leave our options open. "Sophia's still settling in, and her feet are giving her trouble from the hike we took yesterday."

Jack looks down at her borrowed boots, frowning slightly. "Those look like your old work boots, Ethan. No wonder her feet hurt. You need to get this girl some proper shoes!"

"That's our next stop," I assure him, grateful for the opening. "Along with some other necessities. Her luggage got lost on the flight."

"Typical airlines," Jack says, fully aware I’m lying. "Well, don't let me keep you. Sophia, it was a pleasure meeting you. Hope to see more of you while you're visiting our humble town."

"Likewise," she replies with a smile.

We say our goodbyes, and I guide Sophia back to the truck, keeping my hand lightly at her elbow to steady her on the uneven ground. Once we're safely inside the cab, she lets out a long breath.

"That was close," she murmurs. "I don't think he recognized me, but..."

"You handled it well," I tell her, genuinely impressed by her quick thinking. "The story about Marcus was smart."

"I've had practice creating cover stories," she says, a hint of bitterness in her tone. "When you're watched as closely as I was, you learn to lie convincingly about where you're going and why."

I start the truck, considering our next move. "We need to get you clothes, shoes, basic toiletries. There's a department store on Main Street that should have what you need. Nothing fancy, but functional."

"I don't need fancy," she assures me. "Just clean and preferably my own size."

We drive back into town, parking near the store. Before we exit the truck, I turn to her. "Stay close to me. Don't engage with people more than necessary. If anyone asks questions—"

"I'm your niece from Seattle, visiting to connect with the Morrison side of the family," she recites. "I've got it, Ethan. I won't blow our cover."

“Yes. And don’t worry about the owner. She loves books, hates magazines. She won’t recognize you.” I add as we head into the store.

It's not busy at this hour, just a few locals doing their morning shopping. The owner at the counter looks up as the bell above the door jingles, offering a friendly smile.

"Morning, Ethan," she calls. "Don't usually see you here."

"Morning, Helen," I reply, nodding politely. Helen Peterson has owned Miller's Department Store for as long as I've lived in Pine Haven. She knows everyone and everything that happens in town. "My niece is visiting and her luggage got lost. We need to set her up with some basics."

Helen's eyes light up with interest as they land on Sophia. "Well, isn't that nice! We don't often see family visiting you, Ethan. Welcome to Pine Haven, honey. What's your name?"

"Sophia," she answers, keeping it simple as instructed. "Thank you for the welcome."

"Such a pretty girl," Helen says approvingly. "You need any help finding things, you just holler. Women's section is on the left, shoes in the back."

I lead Sophia toward the clothing, keeping my voice low. "Helen's the town gossip. Whatever we tell her will be all over Pine Haven by dinnertime."

"So, we stick to our story," Sophia murmurs back. "Simple and consistent."

We move through the store and gather all essentials.

Sophia selects items quickly, checking prices with a care that surprises me until I remember she said she has no money of her own.

She chooses practical things—jeans, t-shirts, a light jacket, simple underwear, a pair of sturdy boots and some sneakers.

Nothing flashy, nothing that would stand out in a small town.

As she browses, I notice her lingering over a dress… A simple blue sundress with small white flowers. She touches the fabric gently, then moves on without adding it to our growing pile. The longing in that brief touch is unmistakable.

When she disappears into the dressing room to try on jeans, I retrieve the dress and add it to our purchases. A small thing, but something that's hers, that she chose, that's not just functional but something she wanted.

By the time we check out, we've accumulated a reasonable wardrobe for her. Enough to get by for a couple of weeks without raising eyebrows about why she doesn't have more clothes. Helen chatters as she rings up our purchases, fishing for information that Sophia deflects with ease.

"Seattle must be quite different from our little town," Helen remarks, folding a t-shirt.

"It is," Sophia agrees without elaborating.

"How long are you staying with your uncle?"

"We're not sure yet," I interject before Sophia can answer. "Depends on a few things back home."

Helen nods, clearly hoping for more details that aren't forthcoming. She finishes ringing us up, the total coming to more than I'd normally spend in a month on myself. I pay without comment, aware of Sophia's discomfort at the expense.

"Don't worry about it," I murmur as we gather the bags. "Consider it a loan."

She nods, though I can tell the idea of being indebted bothers her. Another thing to add to the growing list of complications between us.