Page 5 of Irish Thoroughbred
“I’m not in the habit of lying, Mr. Grant,” Adelia retorted with great dignity. “The boy, Tom, got a kick for his trouble, so I rode Majesty instead.”
“You rode Majesty?” Travis repeated in slow, even tones.
“That I did,” she agreed, then, noting the anger hardening the blue eyes, sped on. “He’s a beauty, rides like the wind, but he’s not bad-tempered. He wouldn’t have been kicking Tom if the boy had understood him better.” She was speaking rapidly, not giving Travis an opportunity to comment. “The poor thing just needed someone to talk to him, someone to show him he was loved and appreciated.”
“And you can talk to horses?” Travis’s lips curved on the question.
“Aye,” she agreed, unaware of the mocking gleam that lit his eyes. “Anyone can if they’ve a mind to. I know animals, Mr. Grant. I worked with the vet back in Skibbereen, and I know a bit about healing as well. I would never do anything to bring harm to Majesty or any of your other horses. Uncle Paddy trusted me; you mustn’t be angry with him.”
He said nothing to this, only took his time studying her as her extraordinary eyes unknowingly employed their power. As his silence and intense regard continued,she felt a small tingle of fear, mixed with another sensation, strange and foreign, that she was unable to decipher.
“Mr. Grant,” she began, swallowing pride to plead. “Please, give me a chance—a fortnight, no more.” She took a deep breath and moistened her lips. “If you don’t want me after that, just tell me, and I’ll abide by your decision. I’ll tell Uncle Paddy I’m not happy with the job, that I want to be doing something else.”
“Why would you do that?” His head tilted as if to gain a new perspective.
“It’s what I’d have to do,” she returned with a shrug and a push at her tumbled hair. “Otherwise I’d be putting him in the middle. He’s devoted to you and to this place—I know that from the letters he wrote me—but he’s taken me on as his responsibility now. If I told him you had fired me, his loyalties would be torn in two. I’ll not be the cause of that. Will you give me a two-week trial, Mr. Grant?”Pride goeth before destruction,she quoted silently, trying to remember Aunt Lettie’s lectures on humility.
She stood, determined not to squirm under his silent contemplation, wishing he would not look at her as if he could read the thoughts running through her brain.
“All right, Adelia,” he said at length. “You’ll have your two-week trial, just between us.”
A brilliant smile lit her face and she extended her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Grant. I’m grateful to you.”
He accepted her hand, but his returning smile faded,a frown replacing it as he turned her palm up and examined it. Her hand was exquisitely small, fingers long and tapering, but it was rough and calloused from years of the abuse of labor. The continued contact was sending odd tingles through her body, and she looked down helplessly at the hand under his critical scrutiny.
“Is something the matter?” she asked in a voice she barely recognized.
He raised his eyes and looked into hers with an expression she could not fathom. “It’s a crime for such a tiny hand to be as hard and rough as any ditchdigger’s.”
Unaccountably stung by his softly spoken words, she jerked her hand away, holding it behind her back. “I’m sorry they’re not as soft as a lily, Mr. Grant. But it’s not lady’s hands I’ll be needing for the job I’m doing for you. If you’ll excuse me now, I’ll be going in.”
She moved past him quickly, and he watched her run like a rabbit across the grass and out of sight.
Birdcalls broke the night’s slumber, and Adelia woke with the sun. She dressed quickly, happy with the anticipation of beginning her job, a job which was to her more of a magic wish granted than labor. She was sure she could prove herself to Travis Grant. A new home, a new life, a new beginning; she stared out at the infant sun and knew it would bring nothing but wonders.
The scent of frying bacon led Paddy to the kitchen,and he stood for a moment watching her movements while she remained unaware of his presence. She was humming an old tune he remembered from childhood, and she seemed to him the essence of shining, unspoiled youth.
“Sure and it’s the most beautiful sight these old eyes have awakened to in many a year.”
She turned to him, her smile dimming the sunlight into insignificance. “Good morning to you, Uncle Paddy. It’s a fine, beautiful day.”
While they were eating, Adelia casually mentioned that she had met Travis Grant the previous night during her nocturnal wanderings.
“I was hoping to introduce you myself this morning.” He took a bite of crisp bacon and raised his brows. “What did you think of him?”
She tactfully kept her opinion to herself and answered with a move of her shoulders. “I’m sure he’s a fine, good man, Uncle Paddy, but I wasn’t with him long enough to make judgments.”Big, arrogant bully,her mind added. “But I did tell him about Tom’s accident, and that I’d been taken on as an exercise boy.”
“Did you, now?” A slow smile formed as he added jam to his bread. “And what did he say to that?”
“He’s smart enough to trust Padrick Cunnane’s opinion.” Her fingers crossed under the table, and she wondered if she had earned another black mark in Aunt Lettie’s often mentioned Record Book of the Angels.
A short time later, Adelia stood in front of Majesty, rubbing his muzzle and holding an intimate conversation, unaware her actions were being observed by a pair of deep blue eyes.
“Morning, Paddy. I hear you’ve taken on a new hand.”
Paddy broke off his conversation with Hank and greeted the tall, lean man. “Good morning to you, Travis. Dee told me she met you last night.”
“Did she?” His lips curved as he continued to regard woman and horse.
