“When did it all happen?”
“We finally stopped talking a year ago,” he replied.
His use of the word “finally” suggested that it was a long, messy breakup. I wanted to know all the details about the woman who’d clearly picked the wrong man. Everyone agreed that Owen was amazing, so why couldn’t she see it too?
“Have you been back since... everything?”
He shook his head. “This is my first trip.”
My heart pinched at the realization that he was making the journey for me. But then again, maybe he had an ulterior motive? Was I just his conduit for some ex sleuthing? Not that I blamed him. I’d done my time spying on Leo online, and once,in a moment of desperation, I’d staked out the coffee shop I’d seen him post about.
“Is there a chance she might...?” I trailed off when I saw his jaw clench.
Owen cleared his throat. “No, Sophie only goes to the barn on the weekends. But we might have a Josh sighting. He’s an instructor so he’s there plenty.”
“Josh?” I stared at his profile, waiting for him to continue, and he finally glanced over at me.
“She had the two of us fighting over her for a long time, and then she made her choice. It obviously wasn’t me.”
“Ouch,” I said in a low voice. “A love triangle is one of the least liked tropes in Romancelandia. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Lesson learned,” he replied. “Anyway, today isn’t about me. This is about helping... What’s your cowboy’s name in this book?”
“Austin.”
He bobbed his head. “Once we get done with this, Austin will be able to teach his lady the finer points of grooming and tacking up. It’s not romantic per se, but I’m sure you can make it all bated breath and fluttery feelings. Maybe he’ll put his hand on top of hers to show her how to use the currycomb?”
I watched Owen’s eyes flick to my hand, and for a second, I thought he was going to demonstrate.
Which wouldn’t have been the worst thing. I knew how comforting it felt to have his warm hand wrapped around mine.
“Anyway, I hope it’ll be worth it,” he added.
“It’s going to befantastic. I know our focus is on husbandry stuff, but... will I be able to ride a horse?” I squeaked out.
“Hell, yeah, of course you will.” He laughed. “I made sure that a lesson pony would be available while we’re there.”
Owen slowed down and turned onto a long dirt driveway.
“Let’s find you some inspiration,” he said.
The horses watching us roll by all but promised that it was going to happen.
Chapter Sixteen
“I barely recognize you all cleaned up,” the woman said when she finally pulled away from hugging Owen.
“Hey, hand me a shovel and I’ll be back in business,” Owen said, giving her an extra squeeze before turning to me. “Brooke, this is Ivy, my old boss.”
Ivy was one of those people who seemed to be in motion even when standing still. Her white hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and the dusty, sleeveless T-shirt showed off tan, well-defined arms that proved she wasn’t just a figurehead on the farm.
She’d met us in the parking area near a brown building that didn’t look anything like the old-timey red barns I wrote about. The cicadas were screaming in the morning heat, and the sun felt even more intense than in the city. A white-faced horse poked his head out to scrutinize us, and I had to keep from cooing over it, because horses weren’t a big deal to people who worked with them every day.
To me, they were a mystery I’d spent too long pretending to understand.
“Nice to meet you.” She shook my hand with an unsurprisingly hard grip. “Owen tells me you’re a writer?”
“On good days I am,” I replied. “But I have a feeling I’m going to find all sorts of inspiration here. Thanks for letting me nose around.”
