Page 33 of Irish Rebel
“And that’s romantic.”
“You know it is.”
This time he did laugh, because she’d pegged him. “As a boy, when I hung around the shedrow, I’d see the horses come back through the mist of morning, steam rising off their backs, the sound of them growing louder, coming at you before ever you could see them. They’d slip out of the fog like something out of a dream. Then, I thought it the most romantic thing in the world.”
“And now?”
“Now, I know it is.”
He broke into a canter, riding with her until the lights of Royal Meadows began to flicker on and glow. He hadn’t expected to spend a comfortable, contented hour in her company, and found it odd that underlying all the rest that buzzed between them they’d seemed to have formed a kind of friendship.
He’d been friends with women before, and was well on the way to being convinced he’d do just fine keeping it all on a friendly level with Keeley. He was the one who’d initiated the sexual charge, so it seemed reasonable and right that he be the one to dampen it again.
The logic of it, and the ride, relaxed him. By the time they reached the stables to cool down the horses, he was in an easy mood and thinking about his supper.
Since she was interested, he told her of the yearling training, the progress, the five-year-old mare with colic, and the weanling with ringbone.
Together they watered the horses, and while Brian took the saddles and bridles to the tack room, Keeley set up the small hay nets and set out the grooming kits.
They worked across from each other, in opposite boxes.
“I heard you and Brendon are heading off to Saratoga next week,” she commented.
“Zeus is running. And I think Red Duke is a contender, and your brother agrees. Though I’ve only seen that track on paper and in pictures. We’re off to Louisville as well. I want to be well familiar with that course before the first Saturday in May.”
“You want Betty to run the Derby.”
“She will run it. And win it.” He picked up the curry comb to scrape out the body brush. “We’ve conversed about it.”
“You’ve talked to Brendon about the Derby?”
“No, Betty. And your father as well. I expect Brendon and I will talk it through while we’re away.”
“What does Betty have to say?”
“Let’s get on with it.” He glanced over, saw she was running her fingers over Sam’s coat, checking for lumps or irregularities. “Why aren’t you still competing? With that one under you you’d need a vault for all your medals.”
“I’m not interested in medals.”
“Why not? Don’t you like to win?”
“I love to win.” She leaned gently against Sam, lifted his leg and sent Brian a long look that had his stomach jittering before she gave her attention to picking out the hoof. “But I’ve done it, enjoyed it, finished with it. Competing can take over your life. I wanted the Olympics, and I got it.”
She shifted to clean out the next hoof. “Once I had, I realized that so much of what I was, what I felt and thought had been focused on that single goal. And then it was over. So I wanted to see what else there was out there, and what else I had in me. I like to compete, but I found out it doesn’t always have to be done, and won, in the show ring.”
“With the kind of school you’ve got going here, you should have someone working with you.”
She shrugged and began to rub in hoof oil. “Up until now I’d been able to draft Sarah or Patrick into giving me a hand. Ma helps out when she can, and so does Dad. Brendon and Uncle Paddy put in hours with each one of my horses as I got them. And the cousins—Burke and Erin’s kids from Three Aces—they’re always willing to pitch in if I need extra hands.”
“I haven’t seen anyone working here but you.”
“Well, that’s very simple. Patrick and Sarah are off to college—and Brady, who’s another I can browbeat into shoveling boxes when he’s here. Brendon’s doing a lot more traveling now than he used to. Uncle Paddy’s in Ireland, and the cousins are just back from a holiday and in school. Either my mother or father, sometimes both, show up here at dawn half the time. Whether I ask them or not.”
She got to her feet. “And now that I’ve got you interested, I’ve come up with a part-time groom/exercise boy/stablehand. That’s a pretty good deal for a small riding academy.”
She strolled out to start the evening feeding.
“You could get an eager young boy or girl to come in before and after school—pay them in lessons.”
