Page 20 of King of the Weld
"One more thing," the sheriff says, his expression turning serious. "Ethan, I know you can handle yourself but be careful. Edward Valentine has connections with the state police, the governor's office, and judges across three counties. If he decides to make this difficult..."
"He already has," I point out.
"Then he's just getting started," Carter counters. "I'll do what I can to keep an official eye on things, but my jurisdiction only goes so far."
"We may have another solution in the works," I say, not wanting to elaborate on Michael's plan until it's in motion. "But we appreciate anything you can do."
Carter tips his hat to Sophia. "Just doing my job, ma'am. And for what it's worth, I respect anyone who stands up for themselves the way you're doing."
After the sheriff leaves, promising to file the paperwork immediately and increase patrols past my property, Sophia and I are left in a silence heavy with the weight of what we're facing.
"Your brother," she says finally. "Do you really think he can help? My father isn't easily intimidated, even by other powerful men."
"Michael built a global company from nothing," I tell her. "He operates in the same world as your father, speaks the same language. If anyone can make Edward Valentine reconsider his position through business channels, it's my brother."
She nods, though doubt still clouds her expression. "I hope you're right. For both our sakes."
I move to the window, scanning the property line again. A habit I'll need to maintain more vigilantly now. "We'll know soon enough. In the meantime, we stay alert, follow the sheriff's advice, and prepare for whatever comes next."
"And if your brother's plan doesn't work?" she asks quietly.
I turn to face her, meeting her worried gaze directly. "Then we try something else. I'm not giving up, Sophia. Neither should you."
The determination in her eyes matches my own. Two people from different worlds, united by a common resolve. Whatever comes next, we'll face it together.
Chapter 7 - Sophia
Ethan turns away from the window, his vigilance both reassuring and unsettling. Though his call with his brother has given us hope, the knot of anxiety in my stomach refuses to dissolve. I've spent twenty-three years learning that my father doesn't surrender, not to anything or anyone.
"Are you okay?" Ethan asks, noticing my expression.
I try to smile but can't quite manage it.
"Just...restless. Worried." I hesitate, then ask, "Would it be alright if I watched you work? In your workshop, I mean."
The question clearly catches him off guard. His brow furrows slightly. "Watch me work? Why?"
It's a fair question. One I'm not entirely sure how to answer without sounding ridiculous.
"It might calm us both down," I say finally. "You seem most at ease when you're working with metal, and I—" I pause, struggling to articulate the feeling. "I found it peaceful, watching you that first night through the window. Before I passed out."
Ethan looks at me as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning behind my request. Finally, he nods. "I do have a project I could work on. Nothing urgent, but it would keep my hands busy."
Relief washes over me. The thought of sitting in the cabin waiting for my father's next move makes my skin crawl. "Thank you."
Ethan collects his keys and a light jacket for me, since the workshop doesn't retain heat the way the cabin does. As we step outside, his eyes scan the tree line again, clearly a soldier's habit, but reassuring.
The workshop sits about thirty feet from the main cabin. It’s a sturdy structure with large windows and a higher roof than the cabin itself. Inside, the space is organized with meticulous care. Tools hang on pegboards in precise arrangements. Work surfaces are clean and orderly. The forge dominates one corner, currently cold and quiet.
"You'll need to stay back when I'm welding," Ethan tells me, gesturing to a stool positioned a safe distance from the main work area. "The light can damage your eyes if you look directly at it."
"I'll be careful," I promise, settling onto the stool.
Ethan moves around the workshop, gathering materials and equipment. He pulls on heavy gloves and a welding mask, then pauses.
"I have a spare mask if you want to see more clearly," he offers. "But you still need to keep your distance."
"I'd like that," I say, surprised and touched by the offer.
