Page 25 of Irish Thoroughbred
“You’ve earned a rest; you’ve been working hard and long. You’re a bit pale. Are you sure—”
“Now, don’t fuss,” he interrupted with a good-natured scowl. “Nothing worse than a fussing woman. Just be keeping your mind on this lad here.” He patted Majesty’s side. “Don’t you worry about Paddy Cunnane.”
She let this pass, vowing silently to keep her eye on him. “Uncle Paddy, is the Belmont important?”
“Every race is important, darlin’, and this is one of the top. Now, this fellow here, with that barrel of a chest”—he inclined his head toward Majesty and winked again—“he’ll do well there. It’s a long race, a mile and a half, and that’s what he was bred for. A distance runner, and one of the finest. Not like Fortune, mind you; he’s a sprinter and can beat almost anything at a shorter distance. Travis is smart enough to breed horses with both distance and sprinting in mind. That’s why he put Fortune in the Preakness at Pimlico, and he was second by half a length. And that’s just fine. But this one’s for the Belmont.” He shook Majesty’s head lightly by the muzzle. “And so are you,” he added, giving Adelia a pat on the head.
“Me? Am I going as well?”
“That’s right. Hasn’t Travis told you?”
“Well, no. I haven’t seen much of him since we got back from Kentucky.”
“He’s been busy.”
Her answer was absent as she considered the wisdom of attempting to refuse. Recalling the result of her previous attempt, Adelia thought New York might be a fine place to visit.
Belmont Park, on Long Island, was alive with reporters. Adelia managed to stay in the background the majority of the time and, when cornered, she escaped as soon as possible. She was unaware of the speculation about her and her relationship with the owner of Royal Meadows’ Majesty. The casual attire of jeans and shirt did nothing to conceal the appeal of her beauty, and her reluctance to speak with the press added a mystery that acted as a meaty bone to the hungry pack of reporters. At times she felt hounded and wished she had stood firm and refused to come. Then she would see Travis as he moved toward the stables, hands in pockets, hair ruffled by the breeze. She would admit, though it brought little comfort, that she would have gone mad had she been left behind.
Newspapers and nagging reporters were not in Adelia’s thoughts as she joined Travis for the third time in the crowded stands. She noticed, with some discomfort, that Belmont and its occupants were more sophisticated than Churchill Downs. There, size had been offset by an old-world charm, the soft, lazy accent of Louisville. Somehow, Belmont seemed more vast, more intimidating, and beside the sophistication of the elegantly groomed womenwho occupied the stands and clubhouse, Adelia felt inadequate and naive.
Silly, she told herself and straightened her shoulders. I can’t be like them, and they’re certainly taking no notice of me, in any case. Most of these fine ladies can’t keep their eyes off Travis. I suppose these are the kind of ladies he sees at his country club, or takes out for a quiet dinner. Depression threatened to settle over her like a black cloud, but she took a deep breath and blew it away.
Adelia had lectured herself that by this time she should be accustomed to the tension and the crush of people, but as post time drew closer she felt the familiar anxiety and undeniable excitement capture her. She could find neither words nor ability to speak, and stood gripping the rail with both hands as Majesty strutted to the starting gate. He was impatient, she observed, sidestepping and lifting his front legs in small, nervous prancing steps as Steve struggled to control him, urging him forward into his place in the starting gate.
“I’ll have to bring you to the track more often, Dee.” Travis gave her shoulder a small squeeze. “In a couple of months, you’ll be a veteran.”
“I’ll never be a veteran, I’m afraid, because each time it seems like the first. I can hardly bear it.”
“I’m going to keep bringing you in any case,” he informed her, tangling his fingers for a moment in the ends of her hair. “You bring the excitement back. I believe I’d been taking it for granted.”
She turned to him, nonplussed by the gentle tone of his voice, and had opened her mouth to speak when the bell shrilled with the roar of the crowd. Brilliant silks were now a soft blur as Thoroughbreds thundered around the track. After the first turn the field dispersed, transforming from a single mount of speeding legs to a zigzagging cluster of gleaming bodies. To Adelia, Majesty seemed to weave his way through them like a fiery comet, passing one after another until he bore down on the leader. Then, as if a switch had been flicked, came the power, the lengthening of stride, the rippling of muscles, the steady increase of his lead, until Majesty flew down the home stretch, capturing the coveted Belmont with power and style.
The crowd went wild, cheering and shouting with one deafening voice. Adelia’s feet left the ground as Travis lifted her, swinging her in circles as she clung to his neck. He continued to hold her as Paddy’s arms came around them both, drawing them all together in joy and excitement. The words shouted were senseless to her, and she told herself later that it was the temporary insanity of the moment that had caused her to meet Travis’s lips with hers. Even on later reflection, she was unclear who had initiated the kiss, but she knew she had responded. She had flung her arms around his neck, and the thrill that had coursed through her had eclipsed even the rushing flurry of the race. When her feet touched the ground, and Travis lifted his mouth from hers, her head was still spinning with light and color, her body trembling with the backlash of emotion, the tidal wave of sensation. She could do no more than stare up at him. For a moment, it was the same as the day the foal had been born, and the crowded, noisy stands of Belmont Park faded into a solitary, private world. She was oblivious to the throng and the curious stares, aware only of his arms around her, and the feeling that she was slowly, helplessly drowning in his eyes.
“We’d best be going down, lad.” Paddy made a business of clearing his throat before he laid a hand on Travis’s shoulder. Her knees weakened as his eyes left hers to meet her uncle’s. She felt the sudden dizziness and disorientation of one who had been awakened from a dream too quickly.
“Yes.” Travis grinned, the quick-spreading grin of a boy. “Let’s go congratulate the winner. Come on.” Spinning Adelia around, he began to lead her away.
“I’m not going down there,” she objected, making a futile attempt to hold her ground.
“Yes, you are,” he disagreed, not bothering to glance back at her. “I let you have your way before, not this time. You’re coming down to help Majesty accept his flowers, white carnations this time, and one’s for you.”
Her sputtering objections and attempts to disentangle herself went unheeded, and she found herself in the Winner’s Circle with the others.
There were microphones and the flash of lights, andshe faded into the background as far as possible. She was still shaken by the intensity of need that had flowed through her in Travis’s embrace, a strong, wild desire to belong to him completely. It was like being assailed with an unquenchable thirst, and the sensation terrified her. Her morals were deeply rooted, a melding of religious and personal beliefs. She knew, however, that her longing for Travis, her love for him, made her weak, and any resistance would melt as quickly as springtime snow if he pressed his advantage.
She must stay away from him, she determined, avoid situations where they would be alone and she would be vulnerable to his experience and her frailty. As she glanced over at his tall, lean frame, their eyes locked, and she trembled. Her lashes swept down, and she realized helplessly what a rabbit feels when cornered by a strong, sleek fox.
CHAPTER SIX
Back at the hotel, Adelia accompanied Paddy to his room, having no wish to be alone with her thoughts. Travis walked down the carpeted hall with them, pausing at the doorway as she slipped through.
“I’ve made reservations for us.” His teeth flashed in a grin. “Steve’s doing his own celebrating with a little lady who’s been dogging his footsteps since the Derby.”
“Ah, Travis.” Paddy sat down heavily on the bed. “You’ll have to do without this tired old man. I’m weary to the bone.” He gave a smile and a shake of his head. “I’ve had all the excitement I can stand for today. I’ll play lord of the manor and have my dinner in bed like royalty.”
“Uncle Paddy.” Adelia moved closer, dropping a hand on his brow. “You’re not feeling well. I’ll stay with you.”
