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Authors: Susan Anne Mason

Irish Meadows (27 page)

BOOK: Irish Meadows
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29

B
RIANNA
HUMMED
AS
SHE
entered the stables. Cooler air from the interior met her face, defying the dust motes that danced in front of her. She inhaled the familiar scent of hay and manure, and exhaled pure pleasure. Nothing delighted her senses more.

Before she took Sophie out for a long-overdue ride, she wanted to check on little Sebastian. She'd missed the horses more than she'd realized, almost as much as her family, but now that she was back for the duration of the summer, she planned to take every opportunity to come out to the barn. The fact that her happiness came at the price of her father's health caused a twinge of remorse.

Daddy would have to stay in the hospital for at least another two weeks. Her mother spent the better part of each day at the hospital with him, while the rest of the family took turns visiting. Colleen had gone up today and taken the younger ones for the first time. Brianna breathed a sigh of thanks to God for sparing her father's life and for bringing Gil back into hers.

Brianna peered over the stall door at the gangly colt. She laughed out loud at the sight of him, delighted with how much he'd grown since she left.

“Look at you, Sir Sebastian. You are growing into such a handsome young man.”

The colt jutted his head over the stall door, nudging Brianna's shoulder. She laughed again and caressed his snout, admiring his gleaming chestnut coat that matched his mother's. She pulled a piece of carrot from her pocket and offered it to the colt, who seized it with relish. “I'll take you out for some exercise later. First I owe Sophie an outing.” She pressed a kiss to his nose before jumping lightly from her perch on the stall door.

“Too bad he's lame. He'd have made a wonderful racehorse.” Gil's voice sent warm shivers down Brianna's spine.

She hadn't seen much of him the past several days. He'd been holed up in the study, poring over Daddy's ledgers, trying to find a solution to this impossible situation.

More than happy to share some time with him now, she turned and smiled. “He's beautiful, isn't he? With a spunky personality to match.”

Gil grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. “Reminds me of someone else I know.”

A blush warmed her cheeks. “I'm not spunky. I'm the quiet type, like my Sophie.”

“Well, you both have your moments.” Gil reached over to rub Sebastian's nose. “Are you going out for a ride?”

“I am. And you?” She deduced from his plaid shirt and work pants that he might be intending to ride, too.

“I was going to take Midnight out to get away from my desk for a while. Care to join me?”

She smiled. “I'd love to. The track or the meadows?”

“The meadows. I want to explore the whole property. Mark the boundaries and inspect the outer pastures.”

“I can help you with that.”

“Good. It won't seem like work that way.”

They moved to the tack room, where Gil retrieved the two saddles and carried them to Sophie's stall. Within minutes, they had their horses saddled and ready to go. They met at the gate to the east pasture and proceeded through, riding in silence, simply enjoying being back in their element. The summer sun was not too hot, and a slight breeze blew the horses' manes, keeping them cool.

“How are things with the finances?” Brianna dared to ask after a while.

He glanced over at her. “I've had to let some of the trainers go, and I've reduced the boarding fees for most of the clients. Better than having them board their horses elsewhere.”

When he released a ragged breath, she berated herself for bringing up the unpleasant topic.

“We might have to sell off some of the land,” he continued. “That's why I'm inspecting the outer pastures, to see if we can spare any acreage. I spoke to Mr. Sullivan, and he indicated he'd be willing to buy some adjoining land from us.”

Brianna frowned. “I don't think Daddy will approve.”

Gil reined in Midnight on the crest of a hill and gazed over the land below. “I know he won't, but it's better than losing everything.” He turned to Brianna with a pained look. “I'm doing whatever I can to keep from going under.”

She became aware then of the lines of fatigue around his eyes and mouth. “I'm sorry, Gil. I know you're doing what's best for us.” She paused. “We can all pitch in to do the grooming, if it will help.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.”

She bit her lip and looked out over the landscape, working up the courage to ask the question plaguing her. “I noticed you haven't been out to Belvedere lately. Does that mean you aren't seeing Aurora anymore?” She gripped the reins tightly, awaiting his answer.

Gil frowned and pulled his mount closer to Sophie. “I told you I intended to end my betrothal—and I have. I no longer have any ties to the Hastings family.”

A dizzying wave of relief spread through Brianna's limbs. She fought to keep the giddiness from showing on her face. “How did Aurora take it?”

“Not well. But I'm sure she'll come to realize it's for the best.”

Gil reached over to take Sophie's reins. He guided the animal closer until Gil's legs brushed Brianna's. A streak of heat rose from her neck up to her cheeks. She dared raise her eyes to his and gave a sharp intake of breath at the intensity she saw there.

He raised one hand and laid it on her cheek. “I've missed you something fierce, Bree.”

Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers. His warm lips grazed hers, tasting of his sweet morning coffee. Almost of its own volition, her hand slid up to grasp his shoulder as he intensified the kiss. Shivers of electricity ignited her nerve endings, and her knees went weak. Just when she thought she might fall off Sophie's back in a swoon, he pulled away.

“You are one mighty temptation, Miss Brianna O'Leary.” He smiled and dropped another light kiss on her lips before moving Midnight away from Sophie. “Let's finish checking the perimeter of the property, then we can head back.”

Two hours later, on their way back to the stables, Gil stopped at the highest point of the west pasture to survey the vast spread of O'Leary land. A thrill of pride washed over him. Sacrificing a tract of land would be well worth the price to keep Irish Meadows alive. He prayed he could convince James to sign the papers Gil intended to have the lawyers draw up.

“Are you still planning to move away and buy your own farm?” Brianna's soft question took him by surprise. She sat atop Sophie, staring out over the pastures.

“Yes.” His automatic answer didn't match the uncertainty that had crept in and chipped away at his resolve lately. The dream hadn't been on his mind as much, so content was he to be home again.

“Tell me again why you need to do that when you have a perfectly good farm to run here?” A hint of accusation laced her question.

“You know why. I want to make the Whelan name count for something. Because my father wasn't able to.”

“Why do you feel you owe it to him? The accident that crippled your father wasn't your fault.”

No, but his death was.
His hand jerked on the reins, and Midnight tossed his head in silent rebuke. “It's the least I can do. My parents came here to make a better life for me. My father worked hard on the docks trying to make enough money to buy Mum a house and to start his own mercantile. He'd even designed the sign. ‘Whelan's Emporium,' it read. I still remember the pride in his voice when he said the name.”

He sensed Brianna's gaze on him but couldn't meet her eyes. “When his legs got crushed under that crate on the dock, the spirit went out of him. Mum had to take two jobs to make ends meet. I think that was the part that killed him. He'd lost his manhood.” A stiff breeze blew strands of Gil's hair across his forehead.

“Do you think he started the fire that took his life?” Brianna asked.

A shaft of pain seared Gil at the memory of that fateful day. If he closed his eyes he could still smell the stench of smoke and burning wood. He'd never told a living soul the true story of his father's death. Perhaps it was time to finally admit his guilt. Maybe then Brianna would understand his need to do this. “My father wasn't responsible,” he said at last. “I was.”

Her mouth fell open. “How?”

He turned away from the shock on her face and dismounted,
letting Midnight's reins dangle. Shoulders hunched, he moved to the edge of the incline.

“Every day after school, I had to care for my father while my mum went to work. Most times he would be asleep in his wheelchair, after a few too many nips of whiskey to dull the pain.
” He heard Brianna dismount but kept his eyes trained
on a tree far in the distance.
“One day he left his pipe on the table with a box of matches.” He shrugged. “I thought it would be fun to try smoking.”

“Oh, Gil.” She came up beside him and put her arm through his.

“I couldn't manage to light the pipe, and the match dropped onto the sofa. Within seconds the place was an inferno. I tried to push my dad out into the hallway, but he was too heavy. I could only budge him an inch or two.” The feeling of utter helplessness washed over him in waves. The suffocating heat, the blinding smoke, the panic. “I ran to get a neighbor, but when we got back, it was too late.”

Brianna wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. The wind whipped her skirts against his leg. Though he didn't deserve her sympathy, he allowed the warmth of her body to seep into his chilled soul.

She looked up at him, tears standing in her green eyes. “It was an accident, Gil. You were too young for that type of responsibility.”

Gil swiped the moisture away from his own eyes with an impatient hand. “I never told Mum. I was afraid she'd hate me.”

“It was an accident,” she repeated. “You can't blame yourself.”

“I do blame myself. And I swore I'd make it up to him by fulfilling his dream. It's the one thing left I can do for him.”

She sniffed and rubbed her face with the back of her hand. “If that's what you need to do, then I'll help you. We'll do it together.”

He stilled, and then held her away to study her face. “You'd leave Irish Meadows? Leave your family behind?”

“For you I would.”

Her simple acceptance floored him. “This doesn't make you think less of me?”

She laid a soft palm against his cheek. “Not at all. It only makes me love you more.”

She loves me!
His heart took flight in his chest. He'd hoped she felt that way, but hearing her say it with such conviction humbled him. “I don't know if I'll ever deserve you, Brianna. But I love you, too. More than I can ever express.”

His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that joined more than their lips. It united their souls.

With Brianna by his side, Gil knew he could make his dream a reality. After another taste of her sweet lips, he silently vowed that once James had recovered, he would do everything in his power to convince him he was worthy of Brianna.

And this time Gil did not intend to take no for an answer.

30

C
OLLEEN
FLUFFED
THE
PILLOWS
and straightened the covers on her parents' bed, then stood back to survey the room. At last, Daddy was coming home, and Colleen wanted everything to be perfect for him. After three long weeks, the doctor had finally relented and allowed him to leave the hospital. For a while, a nurse would come each day—until they were sure Mama and Mrs. Johnston could manage alone. Daddy would have to spend all his time in his room until the doctor gave him permission to tackle the stairs.

Colleen moved to the dresser. A huge vase of fresh flowers from Mama's garden sat silhouetted against the light streaming in the window. She rearranged the carnations and daisies, determined to make the space as cheery as possible—a real treat after the sterile, beige walls of Daddy's hospital room. She gave a small sigh, thankful for her father's recovery and for these simple tasks to keep her from dwelling on Rylan in Boston. Despite the numerous letters she'd sent him, she hadn't received a single word from him. His silence spoke volumes.

A car horn tooted three times. Colleen raced to the open window and moved the curtain aside to peer into the yard below. At the wheel of Daddy's Model T, Sam pulled the vehicle up in front of the house. Colleen yanked off her apron as she flew down the main staircase and out onto the front porch. Gil, Bree, Adam, Deirdre, and Connor all stood at the bottom of the stairs, an eager welcoming committee. She descended the steps to join them.

“Daddy's home! Daddy's home!” Deirdre hopped from one foot to the other, dancing her delight.

Colleen put a hand on her little sister's shoulder, hating to dampen her enthusiasm. “Hush, Dee-Dee. Remember, Daddy needs peace and quiet.”

An instant frown creased Deirdre's forehead. “Is he still sick?”

She lifted the girl into her arms, deriving comfort from the feel of her arms around her neck. “Yes, he is. He needs lots of rest to get better, so we all have to help, understand?”

Deirdre nodded solemnly.

“Good.” Colleen nuzzled her sister's neck, inhaling her little girl scent of Ivory soap and sunshine. “Now, let's welcome Daddy home . . . quietly.”

Deirdre grinned, revealing a gap where one of her teeth had come out. Colleen's heart squeezed as she wondered if Delia had lost any teeth. She wished she knew if Delia had received her package containing Mr. Whiskers, a new doll, and a letter. She'd hoped Delia's new parents would help her write back. Colleen ached for word from the sweet girl.

Gil and Adam moved to help Sam ease Daddy out of the passenger's side door. Together the three men carried her father up the stairs and into the house, while the rest of the family followed them inside.

The trio sat Daddy down on the chair in the foyer to rest for a moment before attempting the stairs. For the first time out of the hospital lighting, Colleen got a good look at her father,
and she bit back a gasp of dismay. His normally ruddy cheeks now appeared sallow and gaunt. His blue eyes had lost their sparkle. Even his broad frame appeared shrunken.

Connor and Deirdre stood staring, eyes wide, most likely as shocked as she.

Mama moved up behind the pair. “Give Daddy a kiss. Then we'll let him get settled upstairs.”

“Welcome home, Daddy.” Deirdre's voice wavered as she leaned in to kiss Daddy's cheek. Connor followed suit.

Daddy gave a wan smile. “Come up and visit after I've had a wee rest.” He reached out a hand to ruffle Connor's auburn curls. “You be sure to help your mama around the house.”

“Yes, sir. I will.”

Colleen kissed her father and whispered, “Welcome home, Daddy.”

He gave her a wink, and she smiled at the slight twinkle in his eye. Maybe having his family around him was exactly what he needed to assist his recovery. She took Connor and Deirdre by the hand and led them out to the kitchen to get one of Mrs. Harrison's freshly baked cookies. Soon the two were seated at the table, happily munching treats and drawing a get-well card to take up to Daddy later.

Colleen returned to the entryway, where Brianna stood staring up the stairs, tracks of wetness staining her cheeks. “Daddy looks frail, don't you think?”

Colleen straightened her shoulders. “Of course he does. He's been in a hospital bed for weeks. He needs time to build up his strength again. Now that he's home where he belongs, I'm sure he'll be back to normal in no time.”

Brianna smiled. “I hope you're right.”

By unspoken agreement, she and Brianna walked into the parlor together.

“So have you heard from Rylan since he's been gone?”

Colleen's heart lurched at the name she'd been avoiding. “Not
a word.” She sank onto the sofa, feeling as though the air had seeped out of her like a flat tire on Daddy's Model T.

“Maybe he's not allowed outside contact. Especially from you—if he's told his superior about you.”

She paused, digesting Bree's theory. “You may be right.” Hope dimmed. “But it's been almost three weeks since he left.”

Brianna put a warm hand on her arm. “Don't give up. Right now we need to focus on getting Daddy better, and pray that while we work on Daddy, God works on Rylan.”

“Come in.” James's loud call penetrated the solid wood door.

Gil took a fortifying breath and pushed into the room. He owed James a long-overdue apology, and now that his health had stabilized, Gil could not put it off any longer.

He squinted into the dim interior of the bedroom. Heavy drapes shielded the daylight from entering. James sat up in bed against two pillows propped behind his back. Like the room, the light had gone out of his eyes.

“Good morning. How are you feeling today?” Gil cringed inwardly, thinking he sounded as falsely cheerful as the nurse who came each afternoon.

James glared at him. “How do you think? Stuck here in this bed with everyone mollycoddling me like a newborn infant.”

“They're worried about you because they love you.”

“Frankly, I could use a little less love.” He scowled, his eyebrows shooting together.

Gil dragged a chair closer to the side of the large, four-poster bed and sat with his hands folded over his knees. “James, I owe you an apology. I'm sorry it's taken so long to get around to it.” He glanced up and saw regret on James's haggard face. “I followed you into that pub to help, but I only made matters worse. I should never have—”

James held up a hand. “All you did was speak the truth at a time I didn't want to hear it.”

Gil shook his head, shame flooding him. “I had no business being so disrespectful after everything you've done for me.” Emotion seized his windpipe. He could've lost this man he loved like a father.

James shook his head. “Truth be told, I owe you an even bigger apology, son. I should never have asked you to court Aurora Hastings. I've no excuse except that sometimes desperation makes a man do desperate things.”

Some of the weight lifted from Gil's shoulders. “I wasn't entirely blameless. I could have said no. But at least I've learned a valuable lesson from this whole mess.” He paused. “You should know that I've called off the engagement.”

James nodded, a sober expression haunting his face. “I'm glad. Facing your own mortality has a way of changing your perspective on things.” A smile twitched his lips. “Not that I recommend that particular method of self-discovery.”

Gil laughed, greatly relieved to be back on better terms with his guardian.

“I want to thank you for coming back to help out. I know it's eased Kathleen's mind a great deal to have you home.”

“There's nowhere else I'd want to be. Like you always remind us, family pulls together in the tough times.”

“I'm glad someone listens when I talk.” James sobered. “So . . . how bad is it?”

Gil straightened on the hard chair. “You know you're not supposed to be talking business. Your wife would have my hide.”

James crossed his arms over his chest, some of the fighting spirit returning to his demeanor. “You may as well tell me. I'll only imagine the worst, and the worry won't be good for my health.”

Gil grinned and shook his head. “You are incorrigible.” He hesitated, considering his options. He supposed a bit of good
news wouldn't hurt. “I can say that things are turning around . . . slowly. And don't ask for details because I'm not going to give them.”

Lines spread across James's forehead. “So we won't be foreclosing any time soon?”

James's misery echoed in Gil's heart. How must James feel to fail his family? To think his wife and children would lose their home?

“You're not going to lose Irish Meadows. Not while I have anything to say about it.”

James sagged back against the pillows, and actual tears formed in his eyes. “Thank you, Gil. I don't know how you've pulled this off, and for now I won't ask.” He swallowed and looked straight at Gil. “Just know I'm extremely grateful.”

Gil's throat tightened. At last he'd been able to help James in an honorable way. “No thanks necessary. You know I love this place.” In fact, he loved Irish Meadows as if it were his own. Could starting another business be any more fulfilling?

James moved under the covers. “I think I'd better rest awhile now.”

Gil jumped to his feet. “Of course. I've got work to do anyway.”

On the way out the door, he stopped to glance back at James, whose eyes had already closed. Gil offered a silent prayer of thanks for the relaxing of the lines around his mouth and forehead for the first time since that fateful day in the bank. Maybe now James could breathe easier and concentrate on regaining his health.

Once James was back in the saddle, so to speak, Gil would talk to him about Brianna and plead his case for becoming his son-in-law.

BOOK: Irish Meadows
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