Page 44 of Irish Rebel
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Yesterday you were riding on my shoulders,” he murmured. “The house was full of noise. Clomping up and down the steps, doors slamming. Scattered toys. I don’t know how many times I stepped on one of those damned little cars of Brady’s.”
Turning back, he ran a hand over her hair. “I miss that. I miss all of you.”
“Daddy.” In one fluid movement she rose and slid her arms around him.
“It’s the way it’s supposed to work. Three of you off at college, Brendon moving around to get a handle on the business of things. It’s what he wants. And you, building your own. But... I miss the crowd of you.”
“I promise to slam the door the very first chance I get.”
“That might help.”
“Sentimental softie. I love that about you.”
“Lucky for me.” He gave her a quick, hard squeeze, then glanced over as the phone rang again. “Actually I didn’t stop in for sentiment, but to give you some business advice.” He drew her back. “You need help around here.”
“I’m thinking about it. Really,” she added when he angled his head. “As soon as I straighten things out I’ll look into it.”
“I seem to recall you saying the same thing six months ago.”
“It just hasn’t been the right time. I’ve got it all under control.” Even as she said it, the phone rang again.
“Keeley, getting help doesn’t mean you won’t be in charge, doesn’t mean it won’t be your school.”
“I know, but... it won’t be the same.”
“I’m here to tell you nothing stays the same. The farm’s more than it was when it passed to me, and less than it will be when it passes to you and your brothers and sister. But I’ve put my mark on it. Nothing can change that.”
“I guess I just don’t want it to get away from me.”
“You’ve already proven you can do it.”
“You’re right. Of course, you’re right. But it isn’t easy to find the right person. It would have to be someone good with kids and horses, and who’d be able to pitch in with the administrating to some extent and wouldn’t quibble about shoveling manure. Plus I’d have to be able to depend on them, and get along with them. And they’d have to be diplomatic with parents, which is often the trickiest part.”
Travis picked up his soft drink again. “I might be able to point you in the right direction there.”
“Oh? Listen, Dad, I appreciate it, but you know, a friend of a friend or the son or daughter of an acquaintance. That kind of thing gets very sticky if it doesn’t work out.”
“Actually, I was thinking of someone a little closer to home. Your mother.”
“Ma?” With a half laugh Keeley sat again. “Ma doesn’t want this headache, even if she had time for it.”
“Shows what you know.” Smug now, he drank. “Just mention it to her, casually. I won’t say a word about it.”
By the time the day’s lesson was over, and the last horse groomed and fed, Keeley dragged herself into the house. She wanted nothing more than a long bath and a quiet night. And if she ducked the evening plans, her cousin Mo would dog her like a hound. Better to face an evening out than weeks of nagging.
She moved through the kitchen, into the hall. Her father was right, she realized. How would any of them get used to the quiet? No one was shouting down the stairs or rushing in the door or playing music so loud it vibrated the eardrums.
She paused at the top of the steps, looking right. There was the room Brady and Patrick shared. She still remembered that during one spat Brady had run a line of black tape from the ceiling, down the wall, across the floor, and up again, cutting the room in half.
One had been marked Brady’s Territory. The other he’d dubbed No Man’s Land.
And how many times had she heard Brendon pound a fist on the wall between his room and theirs ordering them to keep it down before he came in and knocked their heads together?
When she passed Sarah’s room, she saw her mother sitting on the bed, stroking a red sweater.
“Ma?”
