Irish Meadows (11 page)

When James ignored her, she turned wild eyes to Gil, clutching his shirtfront. “Gil, do something. Don't let him do this.” She sank to her knees on the dirt floor as sobs overtook her body.
“Just because he's not perfect doesn't give Daddy the right to kill him.”

Her agony became his, fisting around Gil's lungs to squeeze the breath out of him. He knelt beside her, his arm around her quaking shoulders. “Come on, Bree. Let me take you inside.” He had to get her out of range before James fired the fatal shot.

Her head jerked up, her face ravaged with tears. She seized his arm in a vise grip. “Please, Gil. Make him stop.”

Gil's brain whirled at a dizzying speed, searching for some way to prevent the disaster about to happen. He couldn't bear to let Brianna down, as her father always had.

Lord, show me a solution. How can
I fix this for her?

James had unlocked the closet and taken out one of the rifles. He leaned it against the wall while he searched for the bullets. Did he not see his daughter falling apart on the ground? Did he even care?

Gil lurched to his feet as James reached for the gun. “I'll take him.”

James stopped dead and fixed Gil with a dark stare. “What?”

“I'll buy the foal from you.”

James snorted. “Don't be stupid, boy. You couldn't afford it anyway.” He went to grab the rifle, but Gil blocked his path.

“I have money saved. I'll give you a fair price. Better than any other offer you'd receive.”

James stopped to stare at him. “Are you insane? What will you do with a lame horse?”

He must be insane. A good portion of the money he'd saved for his own farm would be wasted on an animal who'd be more of a liability than asset. But it was the right thing to do. His gut told him so. And it would be worth every penny to see Brianna smile again. “I'll find a use for him.”

Shaking his head, James blasted out a sigh. “If you're fool enough to pay for him, as well as his upkeep, then who am I to turn down good money?”

A flood of relief spilled down Gil's spine. His legs wobbled as the tension drained away.

Muttering under his breath, James snatched the gun, returned it to the closet with the bullets, and locked the door. “Meet me at the house, and we'll discuss the terms.” With an odd look at his daughter, still kneeling on the ground, James turned and stalked out of the barn.

The moment he'd gone, Brianna leapt to her feet and launched herself into Gil's arms, laughing and crying at the same time. Tension seeped out of his body as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. Her shaking shoulders told him she was weeping, most likely from relief. He held her until the trembling subsided, taking the time to relish the sweetness of her in his arms.

At last, she wiped her face on her sleeve and pushed back to gaze into his face. Her hair sat in disarray around her shoulders, damp pieces clinging to her cheeks and to the lashes surrounding her puffy eyes, yet she'd never looked more beautiful. His fierce avenging angel, fighting for a helpless animal.

“Thank you, Gil,” she whispered, wide eyes brimming with emotion. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

He managed a half smile. “Oh, I think I do.” With one finger, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, fighting the power of emotions swirling through his system like a drug.

The truth—something he'd repressed for far too long—could no longer be denied. He was irrevocably in love with Brianna. Probably always had been—and always would be.

Before he did anything he'd regret, he took a deliberate step back, away from her magnetic pull. “It's been a long night. Let's go check on the foal before we both get some rest.”

As Gil moved away, Brianna's breath hitched in her lungs. She may be delirious from lack of sleep and overwrought from the
onslaught of emotions she'd just been through, but she knew what she had just witnessed. The unmistakable hunger in Gil's eyes matched her own longing. And after what he'd done for her, she was more than certain. The evidence was as plain as the sun rising over the back meadow.

Gil loved her
.

He knew what destroying the colt would do to her, and he'd bought the horse to save her from pain. A tidal wave of love rose up inside her. “Oh, Gil.”

Leaning forward on her tiptoes, her hands against his chest, she followed her heart's desire and pressed her lips to his.

At last
, her mind sighed. He tasted just as she'd imagined. Masculine and warm—intoxicating. It took her a moment to realize he hadn't moved a muscle. His body, no longer soft and comforting, went as rigid as the wooden support beam beside them. She opened her eyes to see his horrified expression. Surely he couldn't be that shocked by her behavior.

She pulled back, despair flooding her body. Maybe she'd gotten it all wrong. Maybe the thought of kissing her filled him with revulsion.

Mortification burned her cheeks. “I . . . I'm sorry.”

She tried to step away, but his hands clamped around her upper arms. With a groan, he hauled her against him and pulled her mouth back to his.

Like a caged bird trying to take flight, her heart soared and bumped against her ribs. She melted into him and kissed him back with every ounce of emotion in her, relishing the feel of his hands in her hair, which now tumbled around her shoulders. A second groan rumbled up through his chest, followed by a rush of cool air that blasted between them as he pushed her away.

“Brianna, no. We can't do this.”

Stunned and swaying slightly, she fixed her gaze on his face, alarmed by the tortured agony shining in his eyes. “What's wrong?”

He stepped back and leaned against the stable wall, as though his legs wouldn't support him. “It's not right. Your father thinks of me as a son, as your brother.”

Hurt welled up and turned into boiling anger. Once again her father had ruined a beautiful moment in her life. She clenched her hands until her nails bit into her palms. “I don't care what Daddy thinks. You are
not
my brother.”

Gil plunged his fingers through his hair, dislodging his dark curls. “I'm sorry, Bree. After everything he's done for me, I can't betray his trust like this. Please, let's forget this ever happened.” He jerked away from the wall and strode down the corridor, kicking up dust and straw in his wake.

Brianna bit her lip, checking her initial urge to chase after him, to convince him he was wrong. He needed time to come to grips with what had happened between them. She wrapped her arms around her waist to hold on to the warmth of his arms and the delicious knowledge that now burned in her heart.

She was
in love with Gil, and he loved her, too.

Despite his rejection, a trickle of happiness wormed its way into her heart. She'd kissed Gil and he had kissed her back—in no uncertain terms. Finally she had her answer. Gil did care for her as more than a sister, even if he couldn't admit it. She held a finger to her slightly swollen lips and allowed the thrill of his kiss to wash over her anew. As far as she was concerned, it didn't matter that his conscience had intervened and he'd pushed her away. Their feelings for each other would win out in the end. After all, Daddy already thought of Gil as a son. Why not make him a son-in-law?

The thought of her desire for a college career gave her a momentary twinge of concern, but she stiffened her spine. Gil knew how important her education was to her. Surely he would wait for her. It would give him time to save more money for his farm, as well.

She floated on a wave of happiness back to Georgina's stall,
needing to assure herself the little fellow and his mother had bonded. Sam was the only one left outside the stall when she approached.

“How's he doing?” she asked, peering into the enclosure.

Sam gestured toward the mother and the tiny foal who suckled from her. “As you can see, he's doing great.”

Her heart swelled. “Isn't he gorgeous? To think Daddy was going to get rid of him.”

Sam turned to study her. “What changed his mind?”

She smiled tenderly at the wondrous thing Gil had done. “Gil offered to buy him.”

“Well, if that don't beat all.” Sam scratched his head, a bemused expression on his weathered face. “That boy is something else.”

A rush of laughter bubbled out. “That he is, Sam. That he is.”

G
IL
WALKED
BLINDLY
along the country lanes that weaved between the different estates on Long Island, too aggravated to do anything but keep moving. He must have hiked several miles before he'd turned and headed back, his emotions no more settled now than they'd been two hours ago. He kicked viciously at a stone in the path and sent it hurtling into a grove of trees. How had his life spiraled out of control so quickly? In a matter of hours, he'd bought a lame horse and kissed Brianna O'Leary—the one thing he'd promised himself he'd never do.

And now he could never
undo
it. Never forget the taste of her sweet lips, the smell of her hair, the feel of her warm body in his arms. He'd kissed a few girls in his day, all enjoyable enough, but nothing had come close to this life-altering experience. The moment her lips touched his, he knew his world would never be the same again. No other woman could ever compare to that soul-stirring sensation.

I
am ruined.

Gil crested a hill, and the O'Leary mansion came into view. His shoulders slumped. No use putting off the unpleasant task of facing Mr. O'Leary. His body, now as weary as his soul, longed for the oblivion of sleep.

He trudged into the house and found James seated at the desk in his study. Gil breathed a sigh of relief that Bree was nowhere to be seen.

James looked up from the ledger when he heard Gil enter. “There you are, boy. I thought you'd changed your mind.”

“No, sir, I haven't,” he said quietly.

James put down his pen in a deliberate manner, replaced the cap on the bottle of ink, and folded his hands on the now-closed ledger. “Have a seat, Gilbert. I think we need to talk.”

Gil had rarely seen James this serious. Dread pooled in his gut as he reluctantly chose one of the leather chairs across from the desk. “About the foal . . .”

“That's only part of it. The more important part has to do with your feelings for my daughter.”

Gil stiffened. He struggled for something to say, but when nothing seemed appropriate, he remained silent.

“Tell me, Gilbert, just how long have you been in love with Brianna?”

Gil jerked as though the man had slapped him. White knuckles gripped the leather armrests. “I don't know what—”

“I'm not blind, boy. I saw what happened in that barn, and I know why you agreed to buy the foal. You wanted to fix the situation for Brianna, to ease her pain. A noble gesture, really. The act of a man in love.”

Gil wanted to argue, but his tongue stuck to the dry roof of his mouth. The clock on the desk ticked into the silence.

James leaned over the desktop. “Don't bother to deny it. I recognize the signs because it was the same way with my Kathleen.” His expression softened as it often did when he spoke of his wife.

A small glimmer of hope bloomed in Gil's chest. Might James be sympathetic to his cause? “I . . . I don't know what to say, sir.”

James's eyes narrowed. “I need you to answer a question for me. And I need the truth. Have you . . . acted on these feelings?”

Gil fought to keep the heat from his face as he recalled their kiss—not something he would share with her father. “I have never said anything to Brianna about my feelings.”

“So you haven't been carrying on a secret affair behind my back?”

Outrage slammed through Gil. “Of course not.”

James blew out a long breath. “Thank God. It's not too late.”

Too late?
What does that
mean?
Gil swallowed and got to his feet. “Mr. O'Leary, I know I don't have many assets, but I have big plans for the future. In a year's time, I should have enough money saved to buy my own property.”

A shutter came down over James's face, and he pushed his chair back, holding up a hand. “Let me stop you right there.” He moved slowly, as though weighing his words, and came around the desk to stand beside him. “Gilbert, I raised you in the bosom of my family. I consider you another son, and for all intents and purposes, a sibling to my children. I've even named you in my will. It would feel slightly incestuous for you to have a relationship with Brianna.”

Gil's hands fisted in helpless frustration. “But we aren't related—either biologically or legally, sir. I don't see why—”

James pulled himself up to his full, imposing height, arms crossed tight over his chest. “In light of these new developments, Gilbert, I believe it might be wise for you to take Arthur Hastings up on his job offer at the bank.”

Bile rose at the back of Gil's throat. He sank back onto the chair, speechless.

“You could move back to the city and begin the formal courtship of his daughter. In the meantime, Brianna will continue seeing Henry Sullivan. I expect to announce their betrothal at
her eighteenth birthday in two weeks' time.” He gave Gil a long look. “Some distance will do you both good.”

Gil's head spun with sudden vertigo. “So I'm good enough to inherit your money, but not good enough to marry your daughter?” The words came out sharper than he'd intended.

“Nothing personal, son. I need the wealth and social status that the Sullivan family can bring us. You understand.” He clapped Gil on the back, then rounded the desk to resume his seat. “If you're still bent on buying that colt, I'll give you more than a fair price.” He took the cap off the ink and dipped his pen, effectively dismissing Gilbert.

Gil rose on unsteady legs, attempting to come to grips with everything that had just been said. As much as it pained him to admit it, James had a point. Gil couldn't imagine being around Brianna after what had transpired between them. “I'll speak with Mr. Hastings, but I'd like to stay until after Bree's birthday. It would kill her if I left before then.”

“Fine.” James glanced up for a moment. “No hard feelings, I hope, son.”

Gil clamped his lips together, fighting the sensation of his world spinning out of control. Morning light seeped through the window to illuminate the rigid lines on James's face. Gil blinked against the harsh glare of reality that had effectively destroyed any lingering delusions he may have had about his place in this family.

He swallowed back his bitter disillusionment. “No, sir. You've made your position very clear. I know exactly where I stand.”

Brianna pushed into her father's study without knocking. “Daddy, have you seen Gil? I can't find him anywhere.”

It had been three days since the foal's birth, three days since they'd shared their amazing kiss, and Brianna hadn't seen Gil for more than five minutes. She was determined to
speak to him today and find out exactly where things stood between them.

Her father looked up from his paperwork. “I believe he went into the city to meet with Arthur Hastings.”

A prickle of foreboding raced along her spine. “Why would he do that?”

Daddy removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Didn't he tell you? Arthur offered Gil a job at his bank in Manhattan. I suppose they're working out the details.”

The room swirled around her. She clutched the back of the chair to keep from stumbling. “That can't be true. Gil would never work in a bank.”

“He's an ambitious young man, Brianna. We can't expect him to stay cooped up here forever. Arthur recognizes Gil's talent and wants to groom him in his business. It makes sense—now that Gil is courting his daughter.”

Momentary shock paralyzed Brianna's lungs. Then ripe anger rose within her, loosening her tongue. “Gil is
not
courting Aurora Hastings.”

Her father flicked her a disapproving glance. “He made it official yesterday. Apparently the whole family is thrilled.”

Brianna tugged at the neck of her blouse, which had become unbearably tight. “You're wrong. Gil is not interested in Aurora.”

He huffed out a loud breath. “Aurora is a beautiful young woman from a wealthy family. What better match could he make?”

“But Gil loves me.” The words burst forth in a torrent of desperate indignation.

Her father frowned. “Quit imagining things, Brianna. Gil loves you as a brother would. Nothing more.”

A toxic mixture of anger and jealousy surged through her veins. “You're wrong,” she repeated. “Gil kissed me the way a man kisses the woman he loves.”

His head snapped up, giving Brianna a small thrill of victory.
“That's right, Daddy. Gil loves me, and I love him. We're going to have a future together. You'll see.”

Her father's features turned to stone. He slammed a palm to the polished surface of the desk. “I will hear no more on the matter. You need to forget these nonsensical notions and concentrate on Henry, your future husband.”

Brianna's fingers tightened into fists, her nails biting into her palms. She wanted to smash something. To break one of her father's precious trophies. To hurt him as he always hurt her. Instead, she bit her bottom lip until the taste of blood brought about a measure of sanity.

Once she sorted out this misunderstanding with Gil, she would prove to her father that their love was something pure, sanctioned by God, something Daddy's greed would never touch.

Love would triumph in the end. She'd make sure of it.

Avoiding Brianna was slowly killing him—a fate Gil surely deserved. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve, silently berating himself as the worst sort of coward. The uncomfortable truth sat like a sharp blade between his shoulders. He just didn't have the courage to face her after that kiss.

Or the courage to tell her he was leaving.

After twelve long hours of work with the horses, followed by an exhausting ride over the O'Leary property—none of which did anything to relieve Gil's guilt and frustration—he now finished brushing Midnight's coat, furious to find that nothing could erase Brianna from his mind.

He exhaled loudly, making the dust motes dance in the air around him, his thoughts turning to the conversation he'd inadvertently overhead the day after James all but banished him from Irish Meadows. Gil had been trying to avoid Brianna by sneaking into the kitchen through the servants' entrance when he'd heard voices on the back porch.

“I suppose you think me an ogre for not letting Brianna continue her romantic daydreams.” James's baritone had been clearly audible from where Gil stood, back pressed to the brick wall.

“Not an ogre, my love. But I would like to know what you have against Gil courting Brianna.”

“The boy was raised in our home as a sibling to our children. It feels like incest, Katie. It feels like betrayal.”

Gil flinched as though James had struck him.

“You make it sound like they created some insidious plan calculated to hurt you. Sometimes love catches you off guard. Have you forgotten how it was for us?”

“I remember.” James's voice was husky. “I also remember my father clawing his way up from the dirt of poverty, fighting discrimination at every turn for being a poor Irishman. You know how long it took for us to achieve respectability, Katie.”