Page 6 of Irish Thoroughbred
“Wait till you see that little lady ride,” Hank put in, shaking his head. “Could have knocked me over with a feather.”
Travis inclined his head. “We’ll soon see.” He moved to where Adelia still stood speaking softly to the large Thoroughbred. “Hello again, half-pint. Does your friend ever answer you?”
She whirled, caught off guard, and regarded his amusement with indignation. “Aye, that he does, Mr. Grant, in his own way.” She brushed past him to mount, and Travis stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
“Good Lord, did I do that?” He ran a finger over the dark smudge of bruises on her arm, and Adelia followed his glance before raising her eyes to his.
“That you did.”
His eyes narrowed a moment, his fingers still light on her wrist. “We’ll have to be more careful with you in the future, won’t we, little Dee?”
“Not the first bruising I’ve had, nor likely to be the last, but you’ll not be having any more occasion to be grabbing at me, Mr. Grant.” With this, she swung herself astride Majesty and rode him onto the track. At Paddy’s signal, the pair sprinted forward and galloped around the oval in a clean, steady rhythm.
“You wouldn’t have been thinking I’d lost my senses hiring my niece, now, would you, lad?”
“I’ll admit when she told me she’d been hired, I had a moment of doubt about your sanity,” Travis answered, keeping his eyes on the small woman glued to the speeding horse. “But I’ve always trusted your judgment, Paddy; you’ve never let me down.”
Later that morning Adelia worked in the stables, insisting over Paddy’s objections that she assist in the grooming of some of the horses. A sound behind her caused her to turn her head, and she encountered two small boys, one the mirror image of the other. She closed her eyes in mock alarm.
“Saints preserve us, sure and it’s losing my mind I am! I’m seeing double.”
The boys collapsed into giggles and spoke in unison. “We’re twins.”
“Is that the truth?” She breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Well, I’m glad to know it. I was afraid a spell had been put on me.”
“You talk just like Paddy,” one boy observed, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity.
“Do I, now?” She smiled down at their identical faces. The boys were about eight, she hazarded, dark as gypsies, with snapping brown eyes. “The reason for that may be I’m his niece, Adelia Cunnane, just arrived from Ireland.”
Two faces creased in two doubtful frowns. “He calls you little Dee, but you’re not little, you’re all grown up,” one boy complained, the other nodding in agreement.
“That I am, as far as I ever will be, I’m afraid. But I was just a wee babe when I last saw Uncle Paddy, and I never did grow very tall, so I’m little Dee to him. And what might your names be?” she questioned, putting down the currycomb that she had been using.
“Mark and Mike,” they announced, again in one voice.
“Don’t be telling me who’s who,” she commanded, narrowing dark green eyes. “I’ll guess; I’m mighty good at guessing.” She circled them as they resumed giggling. “You’d be Mark, and you’d be Mike,” she pronounced, placing a hand on each head. Two pairs of eyes stared at her in amazement.
“How did you know?” Mark demanded.
“I’m Irish,” she stated simply, controlling a grin. “There’s many of us from Ireland who’s fey.”
“Fey—what’s that?” Mike chimed in, eyes wide and curious.
“That means I have strange, secret powers,” Adelia claimed with a dramatic sweep of her hand. The two boyslooked at each other and back at Adelia, suitably impressed.
“Mark, Mike.” A woman entered the stables and shook her head in despair. “I should have known the pair of you would be here.”
Adelia stared at the newcomer, stunned by her beauty and elegance. She was tall and slender, clad in a simple but, to Adelia’s untrained eye, overwhelmingly beautiful outfit of dark blue slacks and white silk blouse. Black, silky hair curled back from her face. Soft, rose-tinted lips and a classic straight nose led to a pair of heavily lashed deep blue eyes that Adelia identified as Travis’s.
“I hope they haven’t been bothering you.” The woman peered down in indulgent exasperation. “They’re impossible to keep track of.”
“No, missus,” Adelia said, wondering if there had ever been a lovelier woman. “They’re fine lads. We’ve just been getting acquainted.”
“You must be Paddy’s niece, Adelia.” The generous mouth curved in a smile.
“Aye, missus.” Adelia managed a smile of her own and wondered what it would be like to be as graceful as a willow limb.
“I’m Trish Collins, Travis’s sister.” She extended her hand and Adelia gaped at in in horror. After Travis’s words the previous night she was self-conscious about the state of her hands, and her mind began to work swiftly.
