Chapter Seven
Brian came to know the roads leading from Maryland into West Virginia as well as he knew those in the county of Kerry.
The highways where cars flashed by like little rockets, and the curving back roads where everything meandered were all part of his life now, and what some people would say led to a feeling of home.
There were times the green of the hills, the rise of them, reminded him of Ireland.
The pang he felt at those moments surprised him as he didn’t consider himself a sentimental man.
At others, he’d drive along a winding road that followed a winding creek and the land was all so very different with its thick woods and walls of rock.
Almost exotic. Then he’d feel a sense of contentment that surprised him nearly as much.
He didn’t mind contentment. It just wasn’t what he was looking for.
He liked to move. To travel from place to place. It was all to the good that his position at Royal Meadows gave him that opportunity. He figured in a couple of years, he’d have seen a great deal of America—even if the oval was in the foreground of each view.
He told himself he didn’t think of Ireland as home—or Maryland as home, either. Home was the shedrow, wherever it might be.
Still, he felt a sense of welcome and ease when he drove between the stone pillars at Royal Meadows. And he felt pleasure when he saw Keeley in her paddock with one of her classes. He stopped to watch as she took her group from trot to canter.
It was a pretty sight, not despite the clumsiness and caution of some of the children, but because of it.
This was no slick and choreographed competition but the first steps of a new adventure.
Fun, she’d said, he remembered. They would learn, take responsibility, but she didn’t forget they were children.
And some of them had been hurt.
Seeing her with them, looking at what she’d built herself when she could have spent her days exactly as he’d once imagined she did, brought him more than respect for what she was. It brought admiration that was a little too bright for comfort.
He could hear the squeals, and Keeley’s calm, firm voice—a pretty sight and a pretty sound. He climbed out of the truck and walked over for a closer view.
There were grins miles wide, and eyes big as platters. There were giggles and there were gasps. As far as Brian could see, the mood ran from screaming nerves to wild delight. Through it all, Keeley gave orders, instruction, encouragement, and used each child’s name.
Her long fire-fall of hair was roped back again.
Her jeans were faded to a soft blue-gray like the many-pocketed vest she topped over it.
Under that she wore a slim sweater the color of spring daffodils.
She liked her bright tones, Keeley did, Brian mused.
And her glitters as well, he mused as the light caught the dangle of little stones at her ears.
She’d be wearing perfume. She always had some cagey female scent about her. Sometimes just a drift that you had to get right up beside her to catch. And other times it was a siren call that beckoned you from a distance.
Never knowing which it would be was enough to drive a man mad.
He should stay away from her, Brian told himself. God knew he should stay away from her. And he figured he had as much chance of doing so as one of her riding hacks had of winning the Breeder’s Cup.
She knew he was there. The ripple of heat over her skin told her so. She couldn’t afford to be distracted with six children depending on her full attention. But oh, the awareness of him, of herself and that quick trip of the pulse, was a glorious sensation.
She began to understand why women so often made fools of themselves for men.
When she ordered the class to switch back to a trot, there were a few groans of disappointment. She had them change directions, then took them through all their paces, and back down to walk. Brian waited until she instructed them to stop, then applauded.
“Nicely done,” he said. “Anyone here looking for a job, you just come see me.”
“We have an audience today. This is Mr. Donnelly. He’s head trainer at Royal Meadows. He’s in charge of the racehorses.”
“Indeed I am, and I’ve always got my eyes open for a new jockey.”
“He talks pretty,” one of the girls whispered, but Brian’s ears were keen. He shot her a grin and had her blushing like a rosebud.
“Do you think so?”
“Mr. Donnelly’s from Ireland,” Keeley explained. Amazing, she thought, he even makes ten-year-old girls moon.
“Miss Keeley’s mother’s from Ireland. She talks pretty, too.”
Brian glanced up and saw the boy he remembered as Willy studying him. “No one talks prettier than those from Ireland, lad. It’s because we’ve all been kissed by the fairies.”
“You’re supposed to get money from the Tooth Fairy when you lose a tooth, but I never did.”
“That’s just your mother.” The girl behind Willy rolled her eyes. “There aren’t real fairies.”
“Maybe they don’t live here in America, but we’ve plenty where I come from. I’ll put a word in for you, Willy, next time you lose a tooth.”
His eyes rounded. “How did you know my name?”
“A fairy must’ve told me.”
Keeley struggled to compose her features as Willy goggled. “Class. Dismount. Cool and water your mounts.”
There was a great deal of chatter and movement now. Though Willy dismounted, he stood, holding the reins and studying Brian. Too cautious a look for one so young, Brian thought. And it tugged at his heart.
Willy took a breath, seemed to hold it. “I have one that’s loose. A tooth.”
“Do you?” Unable to resist, Brian climbed over the fence, hunched down. “Let’s have a look.”
Willy obliged by baring his teeth and poking his tongue against a wobbly incisor. “That’s a good one. You’ll be able to spit through where that was in a day or two.”
“You’re not supposed to spit.” Willy slanted a look up at Brian as he began to walk.
“Who says?”
“Ladies.” Willy added a shrug. “They don’t like you to burp, either.”
“Ladies can be fussy about certain things. It’s best to spit and burp among the men, I suppose.”
“You’re not supposed to run like a wild animal, either.
” Peeking around to make certain Keeley wasn’t frowning in his direction, Willy shoved up the sleeve of his shirt.
“This is from running like a wild animal on the playground at school. I skidded for ever and scraped lots of skin right off so it got really bloody.”
Understanding his role, Brian pursed his lips, nodded. “That’s very impressive, that is.”
“I’ve got an even better one on my knee. Have you got any?”
“I’ve got a pretty good bruise.” To play the game properly, Brian glanced around first, then tugged his shirt up to display the yellowing bruise on his ribs.
“Wow! That musta really hurt. Did you cry?”
“I couldn’t. Miss Keeley was watching. Here she comes,” he added in a conspirator’s whisper and pulled his shirt down, whistled idly.
“Willy, you need to water Teddy.”
“Yes, ma’am. I had a dream about Teddy last night.”
“You tell me about it when we’re grooming him, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, mister.”
“Now that’s a talking little creature,” Brian murmured as Willy led his horse out to the water trough.
“Yes, he is. What were you talking about?”
“Man business.” Brian hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I’ve got to get down to the shedrow or I’d help you with the grooming. I could send you up a hand if you like.”
“Thanks, but it’s not necessary.”
“Just ring down if you change your mind.” He needed to go, let them both get on with work. But it was so nice to stand here and smell her. Today, the scent was subtle, just a hint of heat. “They looked good at the canter.”
“They’ll look better in a few weeks.” It was time to get the horses inside, start the grooming session. But... What would another minute hurt? “I heard you took a few pots in the poker game last night.”
“I came away about fifty ahead. Your cousin Burke’s a slick one. I’d say he whistled home with double that.”
“And my father?”
Brian’s grin flashed. “I like thinking that’s where I got the fifty. I told him he’s better off sticking with the horses.”
Keeley’s brow rose. “And his response to that?”
“Isn’t something I can repeat in polite company.”
She laughed. “That’s what I thought. I’ve got to get the horses inside. Parents will be trickling along soon.”
“Don’t they ever come to watch?”
“Sometimes. Actually I’ve asked them to give us a few weeks so the kids aren’t distracted or tempted to show off. You were a good test audience.”
“Keeley.” He touched her arm as she turned away. “The little boy. Willy. He’s got a tooth he’ll be losing in a couple of days. It’d be nice if someone remembered to put a coin under his pillow.”
Her heart, which had leaped at his touch, quieted. Melted. “He’s with a very good foster family right now. Very nice and caring people. They won’t forget.”
“All right then.”
“Brian.” This time it was her hand on his arm. Despite the curious eyes of her students, she rose to her toes to brush her lips over his cheek. “I have a soft spot for a man who believes in fairies,” she murmured, then walked away to gather her students.
A very soft spot, she thought, for a man with a cocky grin and a kind heart.
She opened the terrace doors of her room, stepped out into the night.
There was a chill in the air, and a sky so clear the stars flamed like torches.
She could smell the flowers, the spice of the first mums, the poignancy of the last of the roses.
A breeze had the leaves whispering.
The three-quarter moon was pale gold, shedding light that gilded the gardens and shimmered over the fields. It seemed she could cup her hands, let that light pour into them and drink it like wine.
How could anyone sleep on so perfect a night?
Slowly she shifted and looked toward Brian’s quarters. Light gleamed in his windows. And her pulse fluttered in her throat.