The Grump Whisperer (Morningsong Farm #1)

Thirteen

I an had broken her. He’d addled her brain with sex and now she had no will of her own.

That was the only explanation for why she was currently in the indoor ring, enormous stallion in a borrowed saddle in front of her, Ian holding the reins of a bridle she’d scrounged up and adjusted to fit the large horse.

“He’ll be fine,” Ian was saying. “I tacked him up the past four days, and he barely even blinked at me.”

“And I put my weight on his back a couple times while you were busy with the vet,” Olivia offered.

“And he let us walk him over some ground poles yesterday,” Scott added from his spot by the edge of the ring.

“He only bit me twice!” Brian offered. His husband swatted him with his hand. “Sorry. He didn’t really bite me—he was very good.”

Despite herself, Bronwen smiled. Hades had become a bit of a pet project of the whole barn, and had progressed so far from his first days at the farm. Her heart warmed with pride at the thought. The “unmanageable” stallion was still nervous at times and took a while to accept new people. Especially men. But with a little patience and a lot of bribery, many of the boarders had now taken a turn handling him, and there really were no more major milestones to accomplish.

Except this one.

Ian and Olivia had taken the “get Bronwen back on a horse” project seriously, the three of them meeting up every day for the past week while she got used to riding Charlie again. No jumps—she wasn’t ready for that, and diving in the deep end that way had clearly been too much for her poor nerves. But she’d ridden him first at a walk, and she found that the distraction of talking through everything she was doing for Olivia’s benefit had gone pretty far in quelling the ever-present fear and nausea. She’d worked up to a careful canter yesterday, Charlie on his best behavior and Olivia and Ian cheering her on—quietly, so as not to spook Charlie.

Every time she slid to the ground, Ian was there to catch her, whether she needed it or not. And each night, he told her how brave she was and how much progress she was making, and then proceeded to show her how much he’d wanted her all day while they were being professional and businesslike around the horses.

The fear was always there, every time she set foot in the stirrup. But it wasn’t overwhelming all the time. More like an unwanted companion as she rode carefully around the ring, building her riding muscles back up and remembering that she actually enjoyed the activity.

Strange how fear and joy could live together in the same moment.

She still hated that she’d lost her fearlessness, and that maybe she’d always feel this way—happy and determined, but afraid under it all.

She was trying to be okay with it.

Now she poked around at her feelings as she stood beside the huge horse. Hades appeared the picture of calm, almost dozing while she took an assessment of her fear to see if it would telegraph through the reins to the animal under her. Or if it would overcome her once again and cause her to embarrass herself in front of the boarders who’d gathered in the ring to watch the momentous event.

She felt...not great. But not terrible, either. She’d spent so much time with Hades—more than she had with her own horse, until recently. She knew all of Hades’s quirks, the things he liked: food, exercise, having his ears rubbed while he dozed in the wash stall. She knew that new people scared him, but loud noises or sudden motions didn’t.

He was perfectly comfortable with everyone present, with the indoor ring, with everything around him. She was the one whose stomach was making slow, careful flips inside the confines of her body.

“You okay?” Ian came around to Hades’s side, reins in hand. “We can wait.”

They could. But they had an audience. And Ian had let slip that he wanted to see what Hades could do under saddle so he could plan to send him to shows to find a buyer. That little piece of information was like a splinter just beneath the skin. She already knew Ian, let alone Hades, wasn’t here to stay. But the fact that he had plans for unloading the horse so he could make his getaway from Morning Song...

Well. It was his life. He had every right.

“I’m not going to be less nervous later,” she finally said. “And honestly, each time I do this, it gets a little better. Like you said,” she added with a little smile.

“He’s a different horse from Charlie, though,” Ian said. “It’s okay if it’s too much.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t feel any different than with Charlie.” She laughed, and Hades flicked a curious ear in their direction. “If anything, Hades is much better behaved.”

Ian nodded. “On the ground, sure. And I’ll lead him the whole time today until we know what he’s like under saddle.”

She nodded, and before she could overthink it any more than she already had, she swung up into the saddle.

After riding Charlie for the past week, sitting on Hades was like straddling a wide, overstuffed sofa. An incredibly powerful sofa that flicked its ears back as if to inquire whether she really knew what she was doing.

Ian, bless him, didn’t waste time. He led Hades off at a walk before she could change her mind, and after one trip around the ring, her fear settled into a little ball of nerves at the bottom of her stomach.

She could live with that.

“Let go of the reins,” she said.

Ian glanced back at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. I’ll make it quick, but I just want to see what he can do.”

Another glance. “No jumping, though, right?”

Bronwen smiled. “No. Not today. I’m not ready for that—and who knows if Hades has even been trained over fences?”

Someone had certainly trained the young stallion, though. As Ian released the reins, Bronwen let him stretch out into an extended walk, loose and eating up the ground in a way Charlie could never aspire to.

“Warmbloods,” Bronwen muttered. “Such show-offs.”

She tightened the reins and Hades immediately collected himself, hind legs coming underneath his back end and jaw flexing softly on the bit. She pushed him into a big, swingy trot, and as she passed by the group by the fence, she heard Olivia’s “Wow.”

She urged him into an extended trot down the long side of the ring, then collected him back on the corner. He wasn’t a subtle horse to ride—an animal this big needed firm commands—but he was responsive, and his trot was so big and flashy it made her giggle with joy, even as the ball of fear continued to make its presence known.

Fear and joy, together.

After a short and sedate canter on a circle—she wasn’t going to push her luck—she pulled him to a walk and dismounted near the group of observers. The ball of fear dissipated quickly once she was back on the ground, and instead there was only triumph and excitement.

“Holy shit,” Brian said.

“Hey, language!” Rachel admonished him. “But...yeah. Holy shit.”

“He can really move—none of the other horses here look anything like that!” Olivia said, eyes wide.

Bronwen shrugged. “That’s the difference between our Thoroughbreds and quarter horses and whatever, and a super-fancy warmblood.”

“I mean, Charlie’s a gorgeous mover, but this is something else,” Scott said.

“He could definitely go in the dressage ring,” Ian said. “Not just the movement, but how he’s right there on the bit, and listening all the time to his rider. I bet he’s done some dressage tests before.”

Bronwen laughed. “Oh, God, I haven’t ridden a dressage test in years.”

She’d always been more interested in flying over jumps, much less in following a prescribed test of walk-trot-canter around the ring to show obedience and proper movement. But now...jumping was still scary. Dressage? She thought she could handle that.

She might not have much time with either Ian or Hades, but she planned to make the most of it.

Ian sighed with relief as Bronwen gave Hades’s neck a pat. He’d encouraged her to ride the big horse, but once they were in the ring, he’d done nothing but worry.

He was about 90 percent confident that Hades would behave, but you never knew with any horse, let alone one who’d suffered trauma in the past. And while he knew by now that Bronwen was an extremely capable rider, he worried for her well-being. He wanted her to push her limits, to find a way through her fear.

But he never wanted her to be afraid or uncomfortable.

Now that it was over, relief flooded his insides and pride swelled in his chest. She’d done it. She’d ridden almost every day this week, culminating in this effort on Hades. It was huge for her.

She was so much closer to getting her life back. Her choices. Whether she decided to go back to competitive riding or not, a person like Bronwen should never be forced to hide away due to fear. When he left, he wanted her to know one thing: she could do anything she set her mind to.

When he left...

“Ian.” Rachel’s voice traveled over the sound of the others, all telling Bronwen and Hades how well they’d done. “Do you know anything about dressage? Can you teach me to do what Bronwen did?”

“Ooh, me too. I bet Percy would be great at dressage,” Martha added.

All eyes turned to him, and for once he didn’t squirm with discomfort. He should be squirming—this community of boarders had taken him in, as well as the horse his sister had foisted on him. And he was going to walk away without looking back.

He had to. Didn’t he?

But it was so easy to answer with “I always trained the jumpers I rode to around first-level dressage. It’s a great foundation for any discipline.”

And he knew before she even opened her mouth that Rachel would follow up with a request.

“So, you could teach me?”

The girl had been following him around whenever she was at the barn and off her pony, ever since that day at the impromptu pizza party. She was sharp, and knew horses even at her young age. He just hoped she didn’t lose interest, or that outgrowing her pony dampened her enthusiasm.

“Sure. While I’m here, anyway.”

And again, the clear statement of his time limit at Morning Song sounded an off note, like he was missing something. But what else could he do? There was no place for him here, or anywhere in the horse world. Not if he wanted to regain his peace of mind and let go of all the bitterness that surrounded his accident and the aftermath.

He caught Bronwen’s eye, a wistful smile on her face. Then she said, “Rachel, Charlie’s had a little basic dressage training. Very basic. But you could try him, if you wanted.”

He raised an eyebrow, and Bronwen shrugged. It was a brilliant idea, though. Charlie would be far better suited to dressage lessons than the little pony, who from what he’d seen tended to pull his rider around the ring like he was trying to get it over with as soon as possible. And this would give Rachel a chance to see what she could do on a bigger horse.

Her eyes went wide at the offer. “Really?”

Bronwen grinned at Rachel. “Sure. He’s fairly easy on the flat. Just has a mind of his own over fences.”

“No kidding,” Olivia muttered.

“Cool!” Rachel looked like she’d won the lottery, and she gave Bronwen a quick hug.

Scott asked him a question then about training horses for jumpers using dressage, and about Ian’s opinion on Sugar’s sensitive feet and reluctance to soften around corners. Bronwen took Hades’s reins and led him back to the barn, Rachel in tow, asking a million questions about Charlie. Martha, Olivia and Brian stood by the fence chattering about all the little things horse people talked about when they were with people who shared their passion.

As he answered Scott’s questions, Ian thought about how easy this was. How, much to his surprise, everyone at Morning Song seemed to accept that he couldn’t ride, but was still useful and knowledgeable when it came to horse care and riding. What would it be like to belong to a community like this? No one here gave any indication that they saw him as a star to hitch themselves to. No one valued him for the prizes he won or for his fame. No one expected him to do anything he wasn’t able to.

Except, perhaps, to stay.