Page 43 of Irish Rebel
It wasn’t as if she didn’t have enough to occupy her mind or her time. She’d found enough tuition students to add another class and was even now snaking her way through the maze of bureaucracy to arrange for three additional subsidized students.
She’d had meetings with the psychologist, the social worker, the parents and the children. The paperwork alone was enough to, well, choke a horse, she admitted. But it would be worth it in the end.
With some amusement, she flipped through the article inWashingtonian Magazine.She knew the exposure was responsible for netting her the new full tuition students. The photographs were gorgeous and the text made full use of her background, her Olympic medal and her social standing.
No problem there, she decided, particularly since the academy was mentioned several times.
She glanced at the phone with a little sigh as it rang. It hadn’t stopped since the article had been published. The time was coming, Keeley thought, when she was going to have to break down and hire an assistant.
But for now, the school was all hers.
“Good morning, Royal Meadows Riding Academy.” Her coolly professional tone warmed when she heard her cousin Maureen’s voice.
Fifteen minutes later, she was hanging up and shaking her head. It appeared she was going to dinner and the races that evening. She’d said no—at least Keeley was fairly certain she’d said no five or six times. But nobody held out against Mo for long. She just rolled over you.
Keeley eyed the piles of paperwork on her desk, huffed out a breath when the phone rang again. Just do the first thing, she reminded herself, then do the second, and keep going until it was done.
She’d done the first, the second and the third, when her father came in.
He stopped in the doorway, held up a hand. “Wait, don’t tell me. I know you. The face is very familiar.” He narrowed his eyes as she rolled hers. “I’m sure I’ve seen you before, somewhere. Tibet? Mazetlan? At the dinner table a year or two ago.”
“It hasn’t been more than a week.” She reached up as he bent to kiss her. “But I’ve missed you, too. I’ve been swamped here.”
“So I’ve heard.” He flipped open the magazine to her article. “Pretty girl. I bet her parents are proud of her.”
“I hope so.” When the phone rang, she muffled a shriek, waved her hands. “Let the machine get it. It’s been ringing off the hook since Sunday. Half the parents who call in to inquire about lessons haven’t even asked their kids if they want to ride.”
She scooted her chair to the little fridge and took out two bottles of soda. “So thanks.”
“For?” Travis prompted as he took the soft drink.
“For always asking.”
“Then you’re welcome. I hear I’m escorting two lovely women to dinner tonight.”
“Mo caught you?”
He chuckled before he tipped back the bottle to drink. “‘We haven’t had an inter-family gathering in weeks,’ ” he mimicked. “‘Don’t you love me anymore?’”
“She always pushes the right button.” Keeley studied the toe of her oldest boots. “So... have you heard from Brendon?”
“Late yesterday. They should be home tonight.”
“That’s good.” You’d think the man could have called her once, she thought, scowling at her boots. Sent a telegram, a damn smoke signal.
“I imagine Brian’s anxious to get back.”
Her head jerked up. “Really?”
“Betty’s making progress—as are several of the other yearlings. She’s doing particularly well on the practice oval. She’s ready for Brian to take her over full-time.”
“I caught one of her morning workouts. She looks strong.”
“We breed true at Royal Meadows.” There was something wistful in his tone that had Keeley lifting her brows.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Travis shrugged it off and rose. “Getting old.”
