Page 13 of Irish Thoroughbred
“But I’ve never had so much money at one time in my whole life.” She sent him a pleading look. “What will I do with it?”
“Go out and buy some of those female trappings and folderol,” he suggested vaguely, waving his hand, then pushing the check back at her. “Treat yourself to something. The good Lord knows it’s about time.”
“But, Uncle Paddy—”
“Why don’t you buy yourself a dress, Dee?” Travis inserted with a grin. “I’m curious to see if you’ve got legs under those jeans.”
Adelia’s head snapped up, and she eyed Travis with a dangerous gleam. “Aye, I’ve legs, Mr. Grant, and I’ve been told a time or two it’s not a trial to look at them. But you’ll not have to be worrying yourself; it’s not dresses I need to tend your horses.”
His grin only widened as he gave a negligent shrug. “It doesn’t matter to me if you want to be taken for a boy.”
Her wrath increased as he had meant it to, and her eyes fired sharp green daggers. “There’s only one who ever made that mistake, he being an ill-mannered, bad-tempered brute of a man without a brain working in his empty head.”
“Shopping’s a marvelous idea,” Trish broke in, deciding it was time to play peacemaker. “As a matter of fact, Travis”—she smiled and fluttered her lashes—“Dee’s taking the rest of the day off so we can do just that.”
“Oh, really?” he returned dryly, folding his arms across his chest.
“Yes,really. Come on, Dee.”
“But I haven’t finished.…”
Trish linked her arm through the still protesting Adelia’s and propelled her to a late-model compact. Before she had time to think things through, Adelia had an account at a local bank, a checkbook, and more cash than her apprehensive brain could comprehend.
“Now”—Trish backed the compact from its parking space—“we’re going shopping.”
“But what will I buy?” She stared at Trish’s clear profile in complete consternation.
Stopping at a red light, Trish turned to her anxious face. “When’s the last time you bought something for yourself for the fun of it? Have you ever bought something because you wanted it instead of just needing it?” The light changed, and as she joined the flow of traffic she sighed at Adelia’s blank expression. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying people should just throw their money away, but it’s high time you did something for yourself.” Glancing at Adelia’s furrowed brow, she smiled and shook her head. “You can afford to slow down, Dee, take a day off, buy something foolish, stretch your wings, take a breath.” She grinned as Adelia merely stared at her. “The sky will not fall if Adelia Cunnane takes time off to have some fun.”
No one was more surprised than Adelia when, in fact, she did have fun. The large mall fascinated her with its various small specialty shops and large department stores. There were more clothes than she had ever seen, in colors and soft materials that had her staring and touching in frank admiration.
While Adelia gazed around her, Trish examined garments critically, going from rack to rack, dismissing dozens of dresses, skirts, and blouses, occasionally removing an item and hanging it over her arm. Findingherself in a changing room, Adelia could only stare at the garments Trish had placed on a hook. Then, taking a deep breath, she stripped off her shirt and jeans and slipped on a soft jersey dress in muted shades of green.
The silky material felt strange and wonderful to her skin, clinging to gentle curves and falling gracefully below her knees. She gaped at the stranger in the mirror, her hand seeking the cross at her throat to assure herself that she was still the same person.
“Dee,” Trish called from outside the curtain, “have you got one on yet?”
“Aye,” she answered slowly, and Trish pulled the curtain aside, smiling in triumph at the reflection in the full-length mirror.
“I knew that dress was you the minute I saw it.”
“It doesn’t feel like me,” Adelia mumbled, then turned to face Trish directly. “It’s beautiful, but what would I do with so grand a dress? I exercise horses. I work in a stable—”
“Dee,” Trish interrupted firmly. “Whatever your occupation, you’re still a human being; you’re still a woman, an exceptionally beautiful woman.” Adelia’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened to protest, but before the words could be uttered Trish took her by the shoulders and turned her to face her reflection. “Look at yourself, really look,” she ordered in no-nonsense terms, then shifted to gentler tones. “There’ll be times when you’ll want only to be a woman; this dress is for thosetimes. Now,” she said with practical authority as she released her, “try something else on.”
For the rest of the afternoon Adelia allowed Trish to take command. For the first time in more than a decade, she permitted someone else to make all the decisions, and somehow she found she was having fun. They halted in front of a cosmetics counter, and Trish began spraying scents until Adelia grumbled in protest.
“This.” Trish selected one of the bottles she had sampled. “Light and delicate, with just a touch of spirit.” Paying for the cologne, she handed the package to Adelia. “A present.”
“Oh, but I can’t!”
“Yes, you can. Friends get pleasure from giving presents. Now, that marvelous skin of yours doesn’t need any help, but I think we’ll accent your eyes—and some lipstick, nothing too dramatic.” She stopped and laughed. “I’m bullying you, aren’t I?”
“Aye,” Adelia agreed, feeling caught up in a genial whirlwind and finding she liked it.
“Well, you needed it,” Trish said firmly. “Is there anything else you want?”
She hesitated, then blurted out quickly, “Something for my hands. Your brother said I’ve hands like a ditchdigger’s.”
