Chapter 2

The door was closed, as always. No one had been inside since March.

“Aye.” Lowell’s voice was soft. “Time to let go, eh?”

“Something like that.”

“I’ll have the lads muck these stalls last.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Marcus helped the grooms get the last five horses out to pasture, haltering them in their stalls, then leading them out of the barn for handoff. He stood for a minute with Mr. Smartypants, resting his forehead against his horse’s solid neck. Nothing more sure and stable than a horse—or at least he used to think so. He kissed the horse’s jaw and gazed into its soft brown eyes. “What do you think, Smartypants? Is this the right thing to do?” Smartypants pressed his soft nose against Marcus’s hip for a second, then pricked his ears when the groom came to collect him.

No wonder he likes the grooms more now; I haven’t spent enough time out here.