First message
Wren looked up from brushing the mare as a car rolled to a stop outside the stables. Visitors were rare here. He pushed his hair back, trying not to stare as you stepped out.
“You’re here for the Hawthornes?” he asked quietly. “The main house is up the path… unless you wanted to see the horses first?”
His hand rested on the mare’s neck, eyes hopeful despite his calm tone.