Page 72 of Irish Rebel
Keeley caught up with Brian before he climbed the steps to his quarters. She called out, increased her pace. “Wait. I was so worried.” She would have leaped straight into his arms, but he stepped back. And his face was glacier cold. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Your father dealt with it. The man won’t be bothering you again.”
“I’m not worried about that,” she said shortly. “Are you all right? I started to think you might be in trouble. I should have stayed and given a statement. Everything got so confused.”
“There’s no trouble, and nothing to be worried about.”
“Good. Brian, I wanted to say that I... Oh, God! Your hands.” She snatched them, the tears swimming up as she saw his torn knuckles. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Your poor hands. Let’s go up. I’ll take care of them.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“They need to be cleaned and—”
“I don’t want you hovering.”
He yanked his hands free, then cursed when he saw her cheeks go pale with shock, and the first tear slid down. “Damn it, swallow those back. I’m not in the mood to deal with tears on top of everything else.”
“Why are you slapping at me this way?”
Guilt and misery rolled through him. “I’ve things to do.” He turned away, started up the stairs. And fury caught up with guilt and misery. “You didn’t want me standing up for you.” He spun back, his eyes brilliant with temper.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m good enough for a roll on the sheets or to help with the horses. But not to stand up for you.”
“That’s absurd.” The tears came fast now as reaction from the last few hours set in. “Was I just supposed to stand by and watch while you beat him half to death?”
“Yes.” He snapped, gripped her shoulders, shook. “It was for me to see to. You took that from me, and in the end, handed it to your father. It was for me, two-bit mick or not.”
“What’s going on here?” For the second time that day, Travis walked in on tempers and shouts, Adelia by his side. And this time, he saw his daughter’s tear-streaked face. His eyes shot hotly to Brian. “What the hell is going on here?”
“I’m not sure.” Keeley blinked at tears as Brian released her. “This idiot here seems to think I share Tarmack’s opinion of him because I didn’t stand back and let him beat the man to pieces. Apparently by objecting I’ve tread on his pride.” She looked wearily at her mother. “I’m tired.”
“Go up to the house,” Travis ordered. “I want to speak with Brian.”
“I refuse to be sent away like a child again. This is my business. Mine, and—”
“You don’t speak in that tone to your father.” Brian’s sharp order brought varying reactions. Keeley gaped, Travis frowned thoughtfully and Adelia fought back a grin.
“Excuse me, but I’m very tired of being interrupted and ordered around and spoken to like a recalcitrant eight-year-old.”
“Then don’t behave like one,” Brian suggested. “My family might not be fancy, but we were taught respect.”
“I don’t see what—”
“Be quiet.”
The command left her stunned and speechless.
“I apologize for causing yet another scene,” he said to Travis. “I’m not altogether settled yet. I didn’t thank you for smoothing out whatever trouble there might have been with security.”
“There were enough people who saw most of what happened. There’d have been no trouble. Not for you.”
“A minute ago you were angry because my father smoothed things out.”
Brian spared her a glance. “I’m just angry altogether.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Since violence seemed to be the mood of the day, she gave in to it and stabbed a finger into his shoulder. “You’re just angry period. He’s got some twisted idea that I don’t think he’s good enough to defend me against a drunk bully. Well, I have news for you, you hardheaded Irish horse’s ass.”
