Page 30 of Irish Thoroughbred
“I can’t work with the horses?” Adelia broke in, eyes widening in dismay. “But, Travis—”
“Adelia, listen to me.” He cupped her face in his hand. “You can do as you like. You don’t even know what that means, do you?” His brows drew together at her blank, bewildered face. “If you want to work with thehorses, you’re free to do so, but not as my employee, as my wife. You can spend your time lounging around the country club or cleaning out stalls—it’s up to you.”
“All right.” Slowly, she unclenched the fists that were tight in her lap. “I’ll do my best to make it easy on you as well. I know you were right to do this for Uncle Paddy, and I’m grateful to you.”
He stared at her for another moment, then shrugged and slipped from the car.
When they entered the house, a plump, gray-haired woman bustled into the hall to greet them, wiping her hands on a full, white apron.
“Hannah, this is Adelia, my wife.”
Warm hazel eyes inspected Adelia and smiled in approval. “Welcome, Mrs. Grant. It’s about time a lovely young thing lured my Travis to the altar.” Adelia murmured something she hoped was appropriate. “I’m sorry to hear about Paddy; we’re all fond of him.” The treacherous tears started again, and Adelia closed her eyes against them. “Oh, the poor thing’s dead on her feet. Travis, take her up; the room’s ready for her.”
She started the climb up the staircase, which seemed to take on the proportions of Mount Olympus. Without a word, Travis swept her into his arms and carried her up the remaining steps and down a long, carpeted hallway. Entering a bedroom, he crossed the floor and laid her on a huge four-poster bed.
“I’m sorry.” She lifted her hand and dropped it again. There seemed to be nothing further to say.
He sat next to her and brushed the hair from her cheeks.
“Adelia, when will you learn weakness is not always a flaw? Darned Irish stubbornness,” he muttered, frowning down at her. “I’d swear nothing else kept you on your feet this long. There hasn’t been a whisper of color in your cheeks for the past six hours.”
She stared up at him, wanting to pull him down to her and feel the comfort of his warmth. He turned abruptly and moved to a large cherrywood wardrobe.
“I don’t know where Hannah put your night clothes.” Pulling open the double doors, he exposed the meager contents. “Good heavens, is this all you have?”
She tried to snap at him, but found gathering the strength too great an effort. Moving over to a mirrored triple dresser, he began opening drawers, muttering and swearing, and she lay back and watched him, too weary to be embarrassed that he should handle her clothes with such familiarity.
He pulled out a plain, high-necked cotton gown and, after a brief disparaging scrutiny, brought it to her. “Tomorrow, for heaven’s sake, go shopping and buy some clothes.”
“Don’t you order me about, Travis Grant.” She sat up, unable to keep quiet any longer, and snapped at him with a ghost of her usual spirit.
He stared down at her without expression. “While we’re married, Adelia, we’ll be expected to socialize, and you’ll have to dress properly. We’ll see to it tomorrow. Now, can you manage to change by yourself, or do you need some help?”
Snatching the gown from his hands, she spoke stiffly. “I can manage very well.”
“Good. Change and get some rest. You won’t do Paddy any good if you make yourself ill.” Without waiting for her reply, he turned and strode from the room, shutting the door behind him.
Too tired to appreciate the beauty of the light, airy room, she slipped off the skirt and blouse which had served as her wedding dress and pulled the cotton nightgown over her head. Folding down the mint-green spread, she crawled between the smooth sheets and fell instantly into the deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion.
The birds woke her, as was their habit, chattering and chirping outside the window. Opening her eyes, she focused on the unfamiliar surroundings and remembered. She relaxed the fist that had remained tight over her wedding ring throughout the night, while her eyes made a slow survey of the room. She had thought her bedroom in the garage house large, but she estimated this would hold two rooms that size. The walls were muted green and white striped paper, trimmed with dark woodwork.The furniture was cherry, both the large wardrobe and dresser in which Travis had rummaged the evening before, and a small writing desk, two night tables, and a small pie-crust table which served a tufted-back chair. On the small table was a vase bursting with fresh flowers. Their scent drifted to her as she sat up in bed, hugging her knees close. She sighed as she gazed at the tall French windows which led to the balcony, thinking she had never seen such a lovely room.How happy I could be here if only Uncle Paddy was well, and Travis…She tried to clear her mind of such negative thoughts. Thrusting back the covers, she jumped out of bed.
After showering and dressing in her only remaining skirt, she ventured downstairs, hoping she could locate the kitchen in the strange house which was now her home.
“Good morning, Dee.” Travis appeared from a room off the downstairs hall, which she later learned was his office. “Feeling better?”
“Aye,” she answered, suddenly shy and uncertain in front of the man who was her husband. “I don’t know when I’ve slept so long.”
“You were exhausted.” She kept herself still as he lifted her chin and examined her face like a parent seeking to find signs of ill health in a child. “Your color’s back,” he said at length and smiled.
“I’m fine.” She managed to remain passive as his hand continued to hold her chin. “I was wondering if I couldcall the hospital… and see if Uncle Paddy—” Her hands fluttered, then clung together in front of her.
“I’ve already called; his condition has stabilized.” His hands moved to rest on her shoulders. “He spent a peaceful night.”
A tremor passed through her. She shut her eyes and buried her face against Travis’s chest. After a moment, she felt his arms encircle her lightly. “Oh, Travis, I thought he was going to die. I was afraid we would lose him.”
He held her away until she tilted her head to look up at him. “He’s going to be all right, with a little time and care, and no worries.” His features relaxed. “Of course, when he gets home, he’ll have to slow down. We’ll have to bully him into it.”
“Aye.” Her smile was like the stars through the clouds. “But there’s two of us.”
