The Grump Whisperer (Morningsong Farm #1)

Seventeen

T he first rays of sunlight hit Bronwen like a slap to the face.

She sat bolt upright in bed, then scrambled out of the blankets to the floor. What time was it? She glanced down at her watch. Shit. She’d turned off her phone as Ian had commanded last night, not realizing that she’d also turned off the alarm clock function.

Now she was late.

She threw on her nice breeches and show shirt, which she’d carefully laid out the night before, with an old long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants over them to keep everything clean, and ran down the stairs to the barn.

No sign of Ian, even though it was half an hour past when they were supposed to meet. She took a moment, breathing deeply, trying to slow her heart rate. Oversleeping and running downstairs to a missing Ian felt like some sort of anxiety dream. She tried to calm her racing mind, still adjusting from the abrupt transition from sleep to panic.

Hades whickered at her from his stall. Abigail was already in the feed room getting ready to dole out breakfast.

“Hey, have you seen Ian?” she asked, trying not to sound as freaked out as she felt. She’d have to load Hades into the farm’s trailer and get on her way in less than an hour.

Abigail shook her head. “Nope, quiet as mice around here. I wondered where you were—isn’t that show this morning? I thought you’d be up before I got here.”

“Overslept. Ugh!”

Abigail gave her a sympathetic look as Bronwen grabbed Hades’s feed. She quickly dumped it into the bucket in his stall so he could eat before they left. She’d already put hay and all of the equipment she’d need in the trailer yesterday.

She made herself walk up the path to the house instead of running flat out like a maniac. Let the cold air of the morning root her into the present moment. She was fine. She’d be ready to head to the show on time. A little extra sleep wasn’t a terrible thing.

And there would be an explanation for Ian’s absence. Maybe he’d overslept himself. Maybe he was just running behind. She could hardly blame him, since she was in the same boat herself.

She let herself into the house with the key Ian had given her. It was dark and quiet, and she let out a sigh of relief. He’d just overslept, as she had.

She walked to the kitchen and peeked out the window at the driveway. Her breath stopped halfway into her lungs, and then came out in a rush. His car was gone from its spot. He hadn’t overslept—instead, he’d left the farm. For what?

A small, scared part of her suggested that maybe he’d changed his mind. About what, though? That part of her mind wasn’t big on offering specifics. About the show? About Hades? About the farm? Staying? Her?

He’d never made any promises. Maybe he’d heard from his sister and she was coming to take over everything. And maybe that easy out was too much like exactly what he said he wanted for him to turn it down.

She shook her head and firmly told herself that she was being silly. Ian would have told her if any of that was the case. He’d never just disappear, not without telling her. Especially not today, when he knew she needed his support. He’d promised .

She turned on a light in the living room. And she saw what she’d missed as she darted to the kitchen window.

Boxes.

Maybe fifteen moving boxes scattered around the room, as well as pieces of furniture she’d never seen before. A couple of modern-looking chairs. Some sort of wooden chest that might be an heirloom. A bag for a jumping saddle embroidered with the name of one of the best saddle makers. Books piled next to one box. A bunch of photographs stacked haphazardly beside another.

She reached down and picked up a photo. It was an old color print of two teenagers next to a tall brown horse. The people in the photograph were clearly related, tall and blond and with identical smiles. The boy was Ian, younger but still the man she...

Well.

She placed the photo back where she’d found it, slowly and as carefully as if it was a bomb.

She took a few calming breaths. Her nerves about the show combined with her nerves about whatever the hell was happening here at the house until she was basically just one big ball of nerves.

Okay. Ian wasn’t here, but she knew he’d slept in the house last night. And his stuff—stuff she’d never seen—was being boxed up just as if he was...

Moving.

Leaving.

What other explanation could there be? The house belonged to his sister, who as he’d said should be arriving soon. He could hardly be moving in . And the only other direction to move was out, right?

Which was what he’d said all along that he was going to do. She should have believed him. When he’d said in vague terms that they’d figure things out together, he could have been talking about anything. The farm, his future, Hades.

But if they were working things out together, then where was he? He’d promised he’d be here with her for the show, and he was nowhere to be found. Even if she’d misunderstood what was going on here, she couldn’t get past that. He’d promised to be here, and he wasn’t.

And he’d begun packing up his stuff without talking to her first.

Much more slowly than she’d arrived, she left the house and trudged back down the hill to the barn. She still had the slightest hope that she’d just missed him, and he’d be at the barn when she got back—although where his car was continued to be a mystery.

But in the barn, the only sound was the horses eating their breakfast, soft chewing and snuffling sounds coming from each stall. She could faintly hear Abigail rustling around in the feed room, probably getting ready to muck out the stalls and turn the horses out for the day so Bronwen was free for the show.

She rubbed her hands together in the cold and pondered her options. She could completely lose her shit right here in the barn aisle, or she could go up to her apartment and do it there.

Or she could be the grown-up person she was and get herself and her horse to the show.

Hades had worked hard, done everything they’d asked of him. He was ready, and deserved to have his chance in front of whatever audience turned up for a local dressage show. She didn’t know what the future held for him, but whatever it was, he needed to start showing the world that not only was he tremendously talented, but he also wasn’t aggressive or dangerous when handled properly.

And she had worked hard, too, if not overcoming her fear, then learning to live with it. Ironic that she’d been looking forward to the show she’d once dreaded the idea of. Whatever Ian was doing, she wouldn’t let him take that away from her.

She nodded to herself and mentally drew a boundary around whatever was going on with Ian and all of her associated emotions. After braiding Hades’s mane as best she could, she grabbed the last few things she needed from the barn, loaded up the big stallion and got on her way. It was only when she was a mile down the road in the trailer that she realized she’d forgotten her phone in her apartment.

But, she figured, she didn’t really need it anyway. She was doing this by herself, and she didn’t need anyone’s help or support after all.

Ian waited at the back of Martha’s trailer as she slowly backed Percy down the ramp.

“Good boy,” he said as he gave the horse a pat.

Martha stood by Percy’s head, lead rope in hand. Her expression was almost comically similar to Percy’s: tired, relieved, a little stunned.

He probably looked the same.

“What’s going on?” Scott emerged from the barn, Brian right behind him. “Ian, did you go with Martha to the show?”

The two men walked the short distance to the trailer.

“Ian saved our bacon, is what happened,” Martha said, her normally assertive voice a little shaky. “Percy colicked last night, and I panicked.”

“You didn’t panic,” Ian reassured her. “You did exactly the right thing—called for help and stayed with your horse.”

She gave him a grateful look. “I’m never doing an overnight show again, that’s for sure.”

Ian didn’t like the sound of that. A brief colic episode shouldn’t hold Martha back from whatever shows she wanted to do with Percy. “No,” he said. “You will. You’ll just take this experience and learn from it—bring Percy’s feed with you, and know that his belly has some issues with being away from home. Keep an eye out for anything else that might bother him while he’s away. You’ll be fine.”

In the end, they’d had the vet come out to Old Oak just to be safe, even though Percy seemed to be improving all on his own. Ian hadn’t wanted to risk the trailer ride home if there was any chance it would set him off again. So, they’d waited, explaining the situation to the farm staff as they’d arrived for the morning, and then again to the riders arriving for the second day of the show.

And in between explanations, walking Percy and talking to the vet, Ian had sent Bronwen several increasingly worried texts and voicemails.

No answer.

“Is Bronwen back yet?” he asked now, trying not to sound like he was climbing out of his skin.

Scott and Brian exchanged glances.

“Oh, shit,” Scott said. “Today’s her show with Hades—weren’t you going with her?”

Martha started to lead Percy toward the barn, and the rest of them followed.

“She was really nervous, I think, although it’s hard to tell with Bronwen,” Brian said. “I know she went—the trailer is gone and so is Hades. Did she end up going alone?”

The leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach that had been weighing him down all day increased severalfold.

“I guess so,” he said. “I went out to Old Oak to help Martha early this morning. Bronwen hasn’t been answering her phone.”

“Well,” Martha said, “Bronwen would be the first to say that a sick horse takes precedence over everything.” Her eyebrows knit together in concern and she glanced at Ian. “But I’m sorry, Ian. If I messed everything up for you and Bronwen. I didn’t even think—”

He cut her off. “No. You were right to call and get help. A colicking horse is no joke, and you needed to make sure Percy was taken care of.”

He wondered if he should head over to the show and try to find Bronwen—but her class was likely over by now. He checked his watch and realized that there was a fairly decent chance he’d pass right by her on the way there as she was on the way home and miss her entirely. He also didn’t like the idea of leaving Percy, even if the horse seemed to have recovered.

After several minutes of anxious waffling, he decided that there was nothing to do now but wait and try to focus on the people around him until the woman who held his future in her hands arrived home.

They entered the barn and Ian had never been so happy to walk through the big sliding door. Had he really avoided this place when he first arrived at the farm? Now it felt like a homecoming, bringing a sick horse safely back where he belonged.

Martha put Percy in his stall and shut the door, leaning back against it.

“I’m pooped,” she announced. “And starving.”

“Let’s order breakfast,” Brian suggested.

“And coffee,” Martha added.

“And doughnuts,” Scott said.

“We can take turns checking on Percy today, so you don’t have to spend all day on watch, Martha,” Brian offered.

His husband nodded. “You should even go home for a nap. Or take one in the tack room, if you want.”

Martha smiled gratefully at them. “Breakfast, coffee and a nap? That sounds great. God, I’m so glad to be back.”

“Well,” Ian began, a sense of dread taking hold of his insides now that the Percy situation was more or less resolved, “I should probably...”

“Probably nothing—you’re having breakfast on us for helping Martha,” Brian said firmly.

Martha gave him a knowing smile. “There’s no escaping it. You’re stuck with us now.”

A month ago he would have balked at the idea of belonging to this group of riders—of belonging to anyone or anything. He’d wanted to cut himself off from everything, everyone. He could give his past self grace, standing here now. Like Hades when he’d first arrived at Morning Song, he’d been doing whatever he could to protect himself until he felt safe again.

Now he could feel himself unfurl like the spring leaves at the thought of being stuck with these people, these horses, this farm. He could do breakfast and coffee. He could take his turn making sure Percy continued to improve.

He could belong here, if...

“Did anyone see Bronwen before she left this morning?”

He had to ask. The fact that she hadn’t answered any of his messages made his emotions veer between absolute panic that she either hated him or wasn’t okay, and belief that she was fine and simply busy with the show.

Bronwen was more than capable of taking one horse to a local show for the morning. She’d be busy, of course, and possibly unable—or unwilling—to take her focus off Hades to stare at her phone. He understood.

But the not knowing was the problem. She’d confided in him about her most recent relationship, full of broken promises and betrayal. Her skittishness about relationships stemmed directly from the fact that she’d thought someone was trustworthy and had the rug pulled out from under her. And now he’d done exactly the same thing, even if he’d had good reason. He’d promised her he’d be there, and he simply hadn’t followed through. For all he knew, she believed the worst of him, and he mentally kicked himself for everything and anything he could have done to prevent that.

He should have told her how he felt, as soon as he’d worked it out himself. As soon as he’d gotten his head out of his ass about staying. About loving her. Damn the risk to his own heart and pride, the risk that she’d run screaming in the other direction. Bronwen deserved honesty, and nothing less. At least then she’d have had that to depend on, to trust. Now it was entirely possible she believed he was no better than the ones who had come before.

But there was nothing he could do about it except wait.

Scott, Brian and Martha all shook their heads. Abigail had taken over feeding and mucking-out chores that morning, but she was long gone. No one knew anything.

He let himself be led into the tack room, Scott already on his phone ordering breakfast. He tried to ignore the anxiety and questions rattling around in his brain—was Bronwen all right at the show? Was she furious at him, or would she understand about Percy? Had she even gotten his messages? And after everything, even if she could forgive him for breaking his promise...would it even matter? Would she want him to stay?