no turning back

• thirty three •

gladys

Brant stared down at his cold cup of coffee as I plopped into the chair across from him. Elijah followed on my heels but didn't sit, instead bending down to kiss my forehead.

"I'll be home early this afternoon," he told me while tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I have a surprise for you."

A delighted smile spread across my face. "Okay. Sounds good."

"I love you," he said, those dark eyes boring intently into mine.

"I love you, too. Remember not to kill anyone today."

He chuckled. "It's not on the agenda."

"I'm serious!" I said, narrowing my gaze.

"So am I, baby." He patted my head and then glanced at Brant. "I'll be in touch."

Brant acknowledged him with a nod but otherwise didn't look up. Dread took root in my stomach. The post-sex glow I'd been reveling in this morning dampened considerably as I wondered what he was upset about now. He'd been fine last night while we were grooming Lucky.

After the SUV's tires could no longer be heard crunching down the gravel driveway, I cleared my throat. Brant's eyes briefly darted up to mine before settling back on his mug.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothing." He pushed up from the table and took his mug to the sink, dumping its contents down the drain.

I watched in mute surprise as he stormed out the back door without another word. He was even more moody now than he'd been as a teenager, Jesus.

After finishing my coffee and giving Brant a few minutes, I stalked out of the house in search of him. I wandered about for a few minutes before deciding he must have been tucked away in the barn. The sound of clambering shoes and clashing metal drew me to the feed room where I found him dumping bags of feed into large aluminum bins.

He startled at noticing me in the doorway. I smiled in amusement but it faded the second his glare fell back onto the task at hand.

"Can I help?" I asked.

A derisive snort came from his throat. "No."

"Why not? Surely there's something I can do."

"You can scoop up the manure in the pasture."

Gross. I felt a stripe of competitiveness at the challenge in his suggestion. He clearly thought I would turn my nose up at the offer.

"Okay," I said. "Where are the tools?"

He paused to shoot me a wary look. "You're not serious."

"Of course. Aren't you?"

Now he rose to his full height to acknowledge me. "You're not doing farm chores, Gladys. It's my job."

"Well, I'm volunteering to help."

"Elijah will be furious."

I shrugged. "I'm bored. You could use help. I don't think he'll be that mad, but I'll talk to him if he is."

"Like you'll talk to him about letting me go?"