Irish Meadows (2 page)

She sighed and snapped the book shut. Not off to a promising start. She supposed she couldn't expect her relationship with Gil to remain the same as it had been before he went away. In fact, she didn't want it to. Her silly schoolgirl crush was a thing of the past, the passing fancy of an immature fifteen-year-old. Her focus now was on getting an education and seeing more of the world outside Irish Meadows. Romance could play no part in her life for the foreseeable future.

The only thing she wanted from Gil was his assistance with her father. To that end, she would make renewing her friendship with Gil her top priority.

After checking her appearance in the mirror, Brianna descended the grand central staircase to the entry hall below. Her hand slid over the polished mahogany rail as she moved, her ear attuned to the sounds of her family below. She paused for a moment before entering the formal parlor, relishing her siblings' giggles and the snatches of conversation drifting into the hall. She could picture her father sitting in his usual armchair, nose in his newspaper, her mother perched on the edge of the brocade settee. Adam would be standing at the French doors, looking out over the back gardens, and Colleen would be seated beside Mama, trying to ignore the antics of the two youngest O'Learys, Connor and Deirdre.

Taking a deep breath, Brianna entered the elegant room. Her eyes automatically scanned the room for Gil. Ignoring the dip of her heart when she didn't see him, she bolstered her flagging smile and continued forward.

Her mother glanced up from her book. “There you are, Bree. We thought you'd fallen asleep in your room.”

“Has Gil not arrived yet?” she asked in what she hoped was a casual tone as she moved toward the marble fireplace.

“Mrs. Johnston said he got here earlier, but of course he went to see the horses first.” Mama laughed and shook her head. “I swear that boy loves those animals more than his family.”

“He is
not
family.” Adam's voice seethed with bitterness.

Brianna gave an inward sigh. She'd hoped her older brother would have gotten over his resentment of Gil by now, but apparently it had as strong a hold on him as ever.

Daddy snapped the paper closed. “Gilbert has been raised in this house as one of us. I will not tolerate any animosity toward him.”

“Of course you won't.” Scowling, Adam turned back toward the window.

Seconds later, the clatter of footsteps broke the tense silence in the room. Gil burst through the parlor door, straightening the sleeves of his jacket, which he'd apparently donned in a hurry before dashing down the stairs.

He broke into a wide grin. “Hello, everyone.”

Brianna stood off to the side as the whole O'Leary clan fawned over him, welcoming him home. Mama hugged and kissed him, then dabbed a handkerchief to her eyes. Daddy shook his hand and clapped him hard on the back, beaming, while Deirdre and Connor clamored for Gil's attention.

Brianna remained in the background, content to drink in the sight of him. His black hair still waved over his forehead in unruly curls despite his attempt to tame them. His eyes, under the dark sweep of his brow, were still the same intense blue that used to jolt her heart like a bolt of electricity. The only change was the breadth of his shoulders and chest, visible beneath the tweed suit jacket. He'd filled out while he was away, looking more man than boy now.

Her pulse quickened. Had he noticed similar changes in her appearance? That she was no longer the tomboy who'd followed him around the barn and the horse track every day? She frowned and pushed away the errant thought. What did that matter since she was only interested in Gil's friendship?

He stepped toward her, and Brianna froze. Would he give away the fact that she'd been in the stables?

“Bree, it's good to see you again.” He bent to kiss her cheek as if he hadn't already greeted her earlier.

His amused wink allowed her to relax, confident he wouldn't reveal her secret. She smiled and played along. “And you, as well.”

Gil looked past her, his smile freezing in place. “Hello, Adam.”

Adam came forward with obvious reluctance to give Gil a quick handshake before stepping back. Brianna stiffened as
Colleen sashayed over, the swish of her silk skirts drawing every eye. Glorious auburn hair accentuated her older sister's flawless skin and vivid blue-violet eyes. Beside her, Brianna's freckled skin, nondescript red-gold hair, and slim silhouette always went unnoticed.

Colleen leaned in to give Gil a lingering hug. “Welcome home, Gilbert,” she purred, her cheek pressed to his.

A fierce stab of jealousy ripped through Brianna's midsection. Colleen had worn a low-cut gown that highlighted her assets. With half the county's eligible men vying for her attention, did she have to capture Gil's, too?

As the family moved down the hall into the dining room, Brianna squeezed her hands into fists at her side, determined to keep her feelings in check. Yet an underlying fear rose up to choke her. She'd worried that when Gil came back, he'd become enamored of her sister and totally forget Brianna existed. Gil was
her
friend. They'd shared a bond that had excluded everyone else, even her beautiful sister. Secretly, Brianna had reveled in the knowledge that Gil had never shown any interest in Colleen. But would all that change now that Colleen had blossomed into a voluptuous woman?

Her jealousy, Brianna told herself, had nothing to do with wanting Gil for herself. She was only looking out for Gil's best interest. The fact that Colleen could beguile any man quicker than a spider could snare a fly made Brianna all the more uneasy. She'd have to do something before Gil became the next unsuspecting victim of one of her sister's cold-hearted schemes.

“Gilbert, my boy, it's great to have you home.” Her father helped Mama into her seat, and then motioned Gil to take the chair next to his at the head of the table.

Gil smiled. “It's good to be back, sir. I can't wait to get out and work with the horses tomorrow.”

Her father frowned. “I thought you'd start on the books first. I'm eager to put that business degree of yours to good use.”

The lines around Gil's mouth tightened.

Mama clucked her tongue. “James, let the boy have a few days to rest before you besiege him with bookwork.” Her gentle chiding brought a rush of color to Daddy's face. “I'm sure Gil longs to give Midnight a good workout. Besides, he deserves a bit of a holiday. He's worked every summer and never had any sort of vacation.” With a flick of her wrist, Mama opened her napkin and laid it across her lap.

Gil shot her a grateful look. “I could use a few days to unwind.”

His gaze swung the length of the table, catching Brianna's stare. Those vivid blue eyes she'd missed for so long seemed to look right through her. It used to be that Gil could tell her every thought, every feeling, without her having to say a word.

The servants' door opened, breaking their connection, and the kitchen maids filed in with the covered dishes, placing them on the sideboard with a flourish.

“We're having your favorite tonight, Gil,” Deirdre said in a loud whisper across the table. “Mama said we could have my favorite tomorrow.” Her seven-year-old cheeks glowed with the good health of outdoors and innocence.

“Thank you, Dee-Dee. I'll admit I've been looking forward to Mrs. Harrison's roast pork for weeks now. My mouth watered at the very thought of it.” Gil gave the girl a bold wink, making her giggle.

“And we're having chocolate cake for dessert.”

“Only if you eat all your main course, young lady.” Mama's attempt at sternness fell short with her light laugh. “And that goes for you, too, Connor O'Leary. No scraping the peas into your pocket to dispose of later.”

Eleven-year-old Connor gave their mother an impish grin. “For chocolate cake, I'll even eat extra peas.”

Idle chitchat flowed easily while her family ate the scrumptious meal Mrs. Harrison had prepared especially for Gil. Once
the chocolate cake had been sliced and served, along with more glasses of milk, tea, and coffee, Brianna started to relax. So far things had fallen back into a familiar rhythm—almost as though Gil had never left.

“Before I forget, I have some news to share.” Her mother stirred her tea, the silver spoon tinkling in the dainty china cup. “I received a letter today from my cousin Beatrice in Ireland. You remember her, James. The one whose son is in the seminary.”

Her father patted his mustache with a linen napkin. “Yes, of course. Studying in Boston, isn't he?”

“Yes. But he's coming here to Long Island as part of his internship. He'll be assisting at St. Rita's.”

“Well, well. What a small world. We'll have to have him over for dinner.”

Mama laid down her spoon and cleared her throat. “Actually, that's why Beatrice is writing. She wondered if we could put him up for a while. The rectory is undergoing renovations at the moment, and they have no place for him.”

Daddy's eyebrows drew together. “I don't know, Kathleen. I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with a priest under our roof. Bad enough on Sunday morning.”

Brianna tensed at her father's disapproving tone.

“He's not a priest yet. And we could put him up on the third floor so Gil won't feel so isolated.”

Silence hung in the air, broken only by the scrape of forks against plates as Connor and Deirdre polished off every last crumb of cake.

“He's family, James. And we have plenty of space.” Mama's tone became pleading.

Brianna hid a smile behind her napkin, knowing her father could never refuse her mother when she used that tone.

“The connection is distant at best. Isn't Beatrice your third cousin or some such thing?”

“Family is still family.”

He gave Mama a look that would have withered most of his business associates, but Mama only smiled serenely, waiting.

At last, Daddy shook his head in apparent defeat. “Fine—as long as he doesn't expect me to attend daily church services.”

Her mother clasped her hands together and beamed. “I'll send a telegram tomorrow and let him know.”

Across the table, Brianna caught Colleen rolling her eyes. Her sister had little tolerance for anything religious. Only the wrath of their mother made her comply with their weekly church attendance.

Basking in her small victory, Mama leaned back against the plush dining chair, her teacup in hand. “So, Gilbert, tell us about your young lady. How is the grand romance progressing?”

The air tangled in Brianna's lungs. She knew Gil had been seeing a girl in Manhattan, but she had assumed since she hadn't heard anything lately, they had parted ways.

Gil cleared his throat. “I'm afraid my . . . association with Miss Haskell has come to an end.”

Mama's cup clattered to the saucer. “Oh, Gil. I'm sorry. I'd hoped that we might expect a wedding announcement in the near future.”

Gil's attention shifted to his plate, color staining his neck.

“Isn't her father the professor you worked for at Columbia? The one you spent every holiday with?”

Brianna stopped stirring her tea at the hurt in her mother's voice. How many times had Mama railed against the man who had hired Gil as his assistant, keeping Gil too busy to come home, even for holidays? And Brianna had agreed wholeheartedly. Other than the first Christmas after he left, Gil had not been back once to Irish Meadows.

Lines bracketed Gil's mouth. “One and the same. However, I fear Professor Haskell holds a grudge because of the termination of my relationship with Laura. He, too, hoped for a betrothal.”

A minute of silence passed while everyone appeared to digest this latest news.

Then her father clapped Gil on the shoulder, looking decidedly relieved. “Not to worry, my boy. There are plenty of available young ladies in the area. As a matter of fact, I have one in mind for you myself.”

The tension in Brianna's shoulders cinched the nerve at the base of her neck. “Really, Daddy. I'm sure Gil doesn't need you to find women for him.” The words erupted from her mouth before the thought had fully formed in her head. A streak of fire heated her neck and cheeks.

Her father scowled at her. “That is no concern of yours, missy.” He turned to Gil, pushing his chair back as he spoke. “Let's adjourn to the study. I have several important matters to discuss with you.”

Gil's soft look of sympathy as he passed Brianna's chair did nothing to lessen the sting of her father's words. With Daddy's usual dismissive attitude, she was once again relegated to the background of her father's existence.

G
IL
SANK
INTO
ONE
OF
THE
ARMCHAIRS
in Mr. O'Leary's study, the scent of leather and pipe tobacco surrounding him like the hug of an old friend. Other than the stables, he'd missed this room the most, with its purely masculine overtones—the stone hearth, the enormous mahogany desk by the window, and the endless rows of books. Gil had shared many lengthy conversations with Mr. O'Leary here, discussing anything from the world of horse-racing to the price of hay. He looked forward to diving back into that aspect of the business.

Mr. O'Leary finished stoking the fire and took a seat in the wingback chair across from Gil. His shoulders slumped as he leaned back heavily on the cushions, his usual fortitude growing ragged around the edges. “I can't tell you how glad I am to have you home, son. This new anti-gambling legislation has me worried. Tracks are closing, jockeys are being dropped. Horse farms are bound to feel the pinch next if we can't get this law overturned.” He picked up his pipe from the table beside his
chair and tapped it on his palm. “I only hope we can keep our heads above water until this all blows over.”

Gil frowned. “Is Irish Meadows in trouble?”

“Not yet. But if they shut down racing for good, it won't take long for things to go south. Especially if our clients start removing their horses from our care.”

“Surely they won't go that far?”

“A few already have. I've managed to convince most of them to hold on a while longer.” The strain of the last few months showed in the older man's face. Tired lines bracketed Mr. O'Leary's eyes. The light from the fire glinted off threads of silver invading the black hair at his temples. “Tomorrow I'll show you the new horses and let you have a day in the barn before you start on the books. I'm hoping you can recommend some ways to give our cash flow a boost.”

Gil repressed a sigh. Seeing as how Mr. O'Leary had paid for his education, the least Gil could do was repay him with some bookkeeping and financial advice. He only hoped James O'Leary didn't expect him to stay at Irish Meadows forever. Gil ached to get out in the world and make the Whelan name count for something. He owed his father that much. Gil released a slow breath. Sooner or later he'd have to tell the O'Learys he planned to leave, but that could wait . . . for now.

Mr. O'Leary lit his pipe, took a long draw on the stem, and blew out a fragrant swirl of smoke. “Gilbert, you're twenty-one now. An adult with no need of a guardian. I have no real right to ask, but I need a favor from you.”

Gil's stomach tightened at the grim look on Mr. O'Leary's face. “What kind of favor?”

“You've met Arthur Hastings, haven't you? He's been here for various events over the years.”

“The banker?”

“That's right.”

“What about him?”

Mr. O'Leary fixed Gil with a long stare. “I want you to begin courting his daughter, Aurora. Your alliance with the Hastings family could tip the balance in our favor when we apply for a business loan.”

Gil curled his fingers around the arms of the leather chair until his knuckles ached from the force of his grip. After recently ending things with Laura Haskell, he had no interest in courting another woman.

The logs shifted with a loud
pop
in the fireplace.

“Aurora's about your age and not a hardship to look at.” Mr. O'Leary chuckled. “From what I gather, she's had her eye on you since before you went away to school.”

Gil strained to remember anything about the Hastings family. “I don't recall meeting her.”

“Well, she remembers you. Asked her father to speak to me about arranging an occasion for you two to meet again.”

Gil loosened his tie in an attempt to get more air. “With all due respect, sir, I've just broken off one relationship. I'm not ready to begin courting someone new.”

“Don't you think it's time you called me James, son? And I understand your reluctance to jump into a new alliance. At least meet the girl and see what you think. We'll invite her family to the welcome-home dinner we're planning next week.”

“Mr. O—James—you know I'd do anything I can to help, but—”

“I know you would, son. That's why I'm counting on you to save Irish Meadows from financial ruin.”

Brianna rose early the next morning, grateful for a day free from school responsibilities. With mere weeks left until her graduation, she was finding school more and more challenging, determined as she was to earn the best grades possible in order to increase her odds of gaining entry into college. How she
envied Gil going away to continue his education, experiencing life in the big city. If Gil could persuade her father, she'd follow in his footsteps next fall.

While the morning breeze teased the lace curtains through the open window, Brianna brushed the tangles out of her hair, recalling how her easy friendship with Gil had flourished over the years. As children, both of them spent every spare moment in the stables with the horses. Gil had secretly taught her to ride bareback, a fact that had thrilled Brianna. Gil had always treated her as an equal and not just a girl.

She laid down her hairbrush and moved to the wardrobe, where she fingered the elaborate riding outfit her father insisted she wear. Beautiful, for sure, but dreadfully uncomfortable. Instead, she pulled out her working attire, smiling at the brown wool skirt her mother had fashioned into a feminine version of riding pants. Unlike Daddy, Mama saw no harm in Brianna's love of horses and had finally given in to sewing legs into some of her older skirts.

Too excited to eat breakfast, Brianna hurried outside, her pulse sprinting faster than the horses racing around the practice track. Hooves pounded the soft earth as several riders urged their mounts to greater speeds on the straightaway. Brianna dashed to the white fence and leapt onto the first rung, thrilling to the power of the magnificent animals flying by. She grinned when she spotted Gil hunched over Midnight's neck. What a sight they made—Gil's white shirtsleeves flapping in the wind, his cap slung low over his forehead, and Midnight's sleek muscles flowing in perfect motion. A seamless blend of power and skill.

When Midnight crossed the finish line a full length before the other horses, Gil let out a loud whoop. Standing upright in the stirrups, he pulled off his hat and waved it in the air.

“Great time, Gil.” Sam Turnbull's deep voice boomed out over the track as he held up his stopwatch.

Brianna hopped off the fence and ran over to where Gil would
exit with Midnight, catching up with him as he reached the stable door.

“Good morning.” She hoped she didn't sound as out of breath as she felt.

A smile of pleasure lit his features. “Good morning. I didn't think you'd be up this early.”

“Couldn't wait to take Sophie out. It's been ages.”

He nudged the door open and motioned for her to precede him. “You don't ride every day anymore?”

She shook her head. “It's not always possible with schoolwork and . . . social obligations.”
And Daddy's constant disapproval
.

Gil turned the corner down the main corridor. “What kind of social obligations?”

“Oh, you know Daddy.” She managed to keep her tone casual as she ran a hand over Midnight's smooth coat. “There's always some party or business dinner for us to attend.”

Gil frowned as he opened Midnight's stall. “Why would that involve you?”

Brianna bit her lip and shrugged. “Seems Daddy's determined to find me a suitable husband.” Her mood darkened at the mere mention of a future she didn't want. Why couldn't Daddy understand that marriage wasn't the only aspiration a woman could hold?

But she wasn't prepared to discuss all that with Gil yet. Not until she made sure he would support her decision to further her education.

She ducked past Midnight and slipped down the corridor to Sophie's stall. The chestnut mare whinnied her greeting, her white mane fluttering as she tossed her head over the door.

“How's my beautiful girl?” Brianna crooned, dropping a kiss on her silky nose. “You ready for a ride?”

The mare snorted her enthusiasm. Brianna laughed and moved to the tack room to fetch her riding gear. She scanned the area, but her old leather saddle wasn't in its usual cubbyhole.
Instead she found it suspended from an overhead hook on the wall. She frowned. The new stable hand probably didn't realize she needed it stored at a lower height. With a grunt, she pulled a wooden stool over and climbed up, stretching on her toes to reach it.

“Why is your father so intent on you getting married?”

Brianna turned her head sharply. Gil loomed in the doorway of the small room, a scowl darkening his face. She teetered, almost losing her grip on the leather. Gil moved quickly to steady her with a hand on her arm, then reached to take the heavy saddle from her. Without a word, he lowered the saddle to the ground and held out a hand to her. She stepped down, ending up much too close to him. His masculine scent—a mixture of sweat, horse, and sandalwood soap—swirled around her, making her senses spin. She stared at the buttons on his shirt, not quite daring to look up. If her eyes met his—got lost in those crystal blue depths—her misplaced crush might flare back to life.

“Is your father trying to find a husband for Colleen as well or only you?”

She made the pretense of brushing a piece of straw from her clothing, hoping to calm her erratic heartbeat. “Colleen's always got a string of men after her. She doesn't need Daddy's help.” Without meaning to, the bitterness she couldn't quite conquer slipped out.

Gil lifted her chin with one finger. “I think you need to fill me in on everything that's been going on around here.”

Her gaze strayed to the hint of stubble covering his jaw and the beloved cleft in his chin. When at last her eyes met his, the blue intensity, focused with singular purpose on her face, erased every thought from her head.

“After one night back, I can tell you're not getting along any better with your sister. And there's a great deal of tension between Adam and your father.”

She wanted to say something—anything—but no words
would form. All she could do was stare at his handsome face and the enticing lips so near to hers.

His gaze moved to her mouth and lingered. She swallowed hard, her heart thrumming against her ribs. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he dropped his hands. With a jerk, he stepped back, kicking over a pail in the process. The clatter echoed through the tack room.

“I'd better see to Midnight.” He looked as spooked as a startled horse.

Equal measures of disappointment and relief coursed through her as Gil charged out the door. She bent to pick up the saddle, her grip unsteady.

Resuming their easy relationship was turning out to be much more complicated than she'd anticipated.