Page 63 of Irish Rebel
He took her bottle, sipped, winced. How the woman could drink such a thing in the morning was beyond him. “It’s always the winning.”
“You’ve done a wonderful job with him.”
“We won’t know that until tomorrow at Pimlico.”
“Stop it,” she ordered when he slipped through the split-rail fence. “Take credit when it’s deserved. That’s a horse that’s found his pride again,” she said as the practice field was led to the gate. “You gave it to him.”
“For God’s sake, Keeley, he’s your horse. I just reminded him he could run.”
You’re wrong, she thought. You gave him back his pride, just the way you made him your own.
But Brian was already focused on the horse. He took out his stopwatch. “Let’s see how well he remembers running this morning.”
Mists swam along the ground, a shallow river over the oval. Shards of frost still glittered on the grass while the sun pulsed weakly through the layers of morning clouds. The air was gray and still.
With a ringing clang the gate sprang open. And the horses plunged.
Ground fog tore like thin silver ribbon at the powerful cut of legs. Bodies, glistening from the morning damp, surged past in one sleek blur.
“That’s it,” Brian murmured. “Keep him centered. That’s the way.”
“They’re beautiful. All of them.”
“Got to pace him.” Brian watched them round the first turn while the clock in his head ticked off the time. “See, he’ll match his rhythm to the leader. It’s a game to him now. Out gallivanting with mates, that’s all he’s thinking.”
Keeley laughed, leaned out as her heart began to bump. “How do you know what he’s thinking?”
“He told me. Get ready now. Ready now. Aye, that’s it. He’s strong. He’ll never be a beauty, but he’s strong. See, he’s moving up.” Forgetting himself Brian laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezed. “He’s got more heart than brains, and it’s his heart that runs.”
Brian clicked the watch when Finnegan came in, half a length behind the leader. “Well done. Yes, well done. I’d say he’ll place for you tomorrow, Miss Grant.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Sincerely shocked more than offended, he goggled at her. “That’s a hell of a thing to say. And what kind of luck is that going to bring us tomorrow, I’d like to know?”
“It’s enough to watch him run. And better, to watch you watching him run. Brian.” Touched, she laid a hand on his heart. “You’ve gone and fallen in love with him.”
“I love all the horses I train.”
“Yes, I’ve seen that, and understand that because it’s the same with me. But you’re in love with this one.”
Embarrassed because it was true, Brian swung over the fence. “That’s a woman for you, making sloppy sentiment out of a job.”
She only smiled as Brian walked over to stroke and nuzzle his job.
“That’s a fine thing. My daughter and my trainer grooming a competitor.”
She glanced over her shoulder, held out a hand for her father as he strode toward her. “Did you see him run?”
“The last few seconds. You’ve brought him a long way in a short time.” Travis pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m proud of you.”
She closed her eyes. How easily he said it, how lovely to know he meant it. It made her only more sad, more angry, that Brian had cause to laugh over the idea of his own father having any pride in him.
“You taught me to care, you and Ma. When I saw that horse, I cared because of what you put inside me.” She tilted her head up, kissed her father’s cheek. “So thanks.”
When his arm came around her, she leaned in, warm and comfortable. “Brian was right. The horse needs to race. It’s what he is. I wanted to save him. But Brian knew that wasn’t enough. For some it’s not enough just to get by.”
“You brought this off together.”
