Page 17 of Irish Rebel
The stable phone rang, delighting her. Whoever was on the other end not only had perfect timing but they had her gratitude. It gave her great pleasure to see the absolute shock on Brian’s face as she walked to the phone.
“Royal Meadows Riding Academy. Would you hold one moment, please.” With a friendly smile, she laid a hand over the receiver. “Really, I can finish up here. I’m keeping you from your work.”
“I’m not a snob,” he finally managed to say.
“Of course you wouldn’t see it that way. Can we discuss this another time? I need to take this call.”
Irked, he shoved the scoop back in the grain. “I’m not the one wearing bloody diamonds in my ears,” he muttered as he stalked out.
It put him out of humor for the rest of the day. It stuck in his craw and festered there. A nasty little canker sore on the ego.
Snob? Where did the woman get off calling him a snob? And after he’d made the effort to be friendly, even compliment her on her snooty little riding academy.
He did the evening check himself, as was his habit, and spent considerable time going over the prime filly who was to head down to Hialeah to race there. Travis wanted Brian to go along for this one, and he was more than happy to oblige.
It would do him a world of good to put a thousand miles or so between himself and Keeley.
“Shouldn’t be looking in that direction, even for a blink,” he muttered, then nuzzled the filly. “Especially when I’ve got a darling like you in hand. We’ll have us a time in Florida, won’t we, you and me?”
“Poker game tonight,” one of the grooms called out as Brian left the stables. He added an eyebrow wiggle and a grin to the announcement.
“I’ll be back then. And it’ll be my pleasure to empty your pockets.” But for now, he thought, he had paperwork of his own.
When he returned from Florida they’d separate the foals from their mothers. The weanlings would cause a commotion the first day or so. And the yearling training would begin in earnest. He had charts to make, schedules to outline, plans to ponder.
And he wanted to put a great deal of personal time into the forming of Bad Betty.
He had no business detouring toward Keeley’s stable. Still it would only take a minute, Brian told himself, to set the woman straight.
But instead of Keeley, he found her sister. Sarah stopped her dash past him and waved. “Hi. Wonderful evening, isn’t it? I’m going to take advantage of it and sneak in a ride before sunset. Want to join me?”
It was tempting. She was good company, and he hadn’t felt a horse under him in weeks. But there was work. “I’d love to, another time. You riding one of Keeley’s?”
“Yeah. She’s always up for someone to exercise one of her babies. The kids don’t give them much of a workout, so they can get stale. Or bored. Her Saturday class is a little more advanced, but still.”
He fell into step beside her. “I don’t suppose an hour of posture and posting does much for the horses.”
“Oh, she lets them out to pasture, and rides herself whenever she can fit it in. Which isn’t as much as she’d like, but the kids are the priority. And that hour of posture and posting does a lot for them.”
He made a noncommittal sound as they rounded the building. He hoped Keeley was still inside what he supposed was an office. He wanted a word with her. “I saw part of her class today.”
“Did you? Aren’t they cute? Today’s what... oh, yeah, Willy. Did you notice the little guy, dark hair and eyes? He rides Teddy.”
“Aye. He has good form, and he’s cheerful about it.”
“He is now. He was a scared little rabbit when Keeley took him on.” Sarah swung into the stables, headed directly for the tack room.
“Afraid of horses?”
“Of everything. I don’t know how people can do that to a child. I’ll never understand it.”
“Do what?”
She chose her tack, murmuring thanks when Brian took the saddle from her. “Hurt them.” She glanced back. “Oh, I thought since you’d seen the class, Keeley would have told you the whole deal about the school.”
“No.” He took the saddle blanket as well. “We didn’t get to that. Why don’t you tell me the whole deal?”
“Sure.” She went to the old mare, cooed. “There’s my girl. Want to go for a ride? Sure you do.” She slipped the bridle on, fixed the bit, then led the mare out. “I don’t know if it started with the horses or the kids. It all seemed to happen at the same time. She bought Eastern Star first. He was a Thoroughbred, five years old, and he hadn’t lived up to his potential. According to the owners. They pumped him up before a race.”
