Page 15 of Irish Thoroughbred (Irish Hearts #1)
Adelia found herself on a plane for the second time in her life.
This plane, however, was vastly different from the crowded economy section of the passenger jet in which she had traveled over the Atlantic.
Now she was passing over the relatively short distance between Maryland and Kentucky in the lush comfort of Travis’s specially equipped private jet.
Adelia’s attitude during this flight was also a marked variation from her first. She stared, mesmerized, from the window, fascinated by the topography of far-distant West Virginia.
She looked down on patchworks of green and umber dotted by small houses, toy-train cities, and gray ribbons of roads snaking and winding to connect them.
There were rivers and pine-topped mountains, their colors soft from her eagle view, and she thought with pleasure that the world was indeed a wondrous place.
Engrossed in her new discoveries, she did not notice when Travis sat next to her.
“Enjoying the view, Dee?” he asked at length, smiling at the way she pressed her forehead to the glass like a child at a bakery window. She started at his voice, then turned her head to face him, pushing back the chestnut curls that spilled over her face at the movement.
“Merciful heavens, you’re forever surprising me. You move like the wind through a willow.”
“Sorry. I’ll practice stomping.” He grinned and shifted in his seat to regard her more directly. “I’ve often thought you move like one of those fairies Ireland’s so famous for, or maybe one of your leprechauns.”
“Oh, well, it can’t be both. A leprechaun’s not considered a fit associate for a reputable fairy.”
“Only a disreputable fairy,” he returned, amused at the sobriety of her statement.
“Aye, and for the most part they’re on their good behavior, hoping to be readmitted to Paradise on the last day.”
“Tossed out, were they?”
“When Satan was rebelling, they stood back from the fighting, not wanting to take sides till they knew how it would end. But since that was their only offense, they were banished to earth instead of tossed into the pit with the rebels.”
“Seems fair,” Travis concluded with a nod. “As I re call, they have the rather awesome power to turn one into a dog or a pig or something equally undesirable, but are normally disposed to good deeds if treated with the proper respect.”
“That’s right,” she agreed. “How did you know that?”
“Paddy saw to the holes in my education.” He leaned over her, smiling, and she pressed back into the cushions, green eyes growing wide. “Relax.” His voice tightened in annoyance. “I’m not going to eat you.” He fastened the seat belt around her waist and leaned back. “We’ll be landing in a minute.”
“So soon?” She controlled her voice to casualness while the beating of her heart vibrated in her ears.
“That’s right,” he answered, matching her tone as he secured his own belt. “You’ve been staring down at Kentucky for some time now.”
With amazing organization and economy of movement, the plane was landed, Majesty was unloaded and transferred to a waiting van, and the travelers were on their way to Churchill Downs.
Adelia’s impression of Louisville was vague.
Her mind was in the back of the van with Majesty.
She worried that he might be frightened and confused by the strange sights and long transport.
When she voiced her concern, she was rewarded with a deep, full laugh from Travis.
The ominous gleam in her eye was ignored as, chuckling, he informed her that Majesty was a seasoned traveler and took it in his stride.
Her irritation had faded by the time the van reached the extensive stables at Churchill Downs. Travis immediately confirmed the arrangements that had been made for Majesty’s stall space and feed.
Travis Grant was well known and highly respected in racing circles.
Adelia noted that he was greeted with warmth by the men and women milling around the stable area.
He stood head and shoulders above the group, exuding power and a virile masculinity that, she observed with a rude stab of jealousy, was obviously appreciated by the women who greeted him.
Infuriated with herself for her own weakness, Adelia turned sharply back to Majesty and led the gleaming colt into his stall.
Time passed swiftly as she tended to the animal’s needs, brushing and soothing as she kept up a flow of one-sided chatter. As she was completing her duties, she heard loud footsteps approaching and turned around to see who was causing the din.
“Loud enough?” Travis grinned at her with unexpected boyishness.
“Aye,” she agreed and gave him a solemn nod. “You sounded like a herd of great African elephants. You’re a funny man, Travis,” she commented, tilting her head to the side and studying him.
“Am I, Dee? How?”
“There’s times you’re like the local squire tossing orders about, and the steel in your eyes could freeze a man in his tracks. Then I think you’re a hard man. But then sometimes…” Faltering, she shrugged and turned back to Majesty.
“Don’t stop now.” Deliberately, he turned her back to face him, a faint smile playing on his mouth. “You’ve intrigued me.”
She was uncomfortable now and wishing with a full heart that she would learn to think before speaking. But Travis ignored her expression of embarrassment, hands light but firm on her shoulders, eyes demanding her elaboration.
“Sometimes… I’ve seen you laughing and talking with the men, or carting one of the twins about on your shoulders.
And I see the way it is between you and Uncle Paddy, and the way you treat your horses.
I think then maybe there’s a gentle side, and maybe you’re not so hard, after all.
” She finished in a rush, wishing she had never started, and turned back to give Majesty unnecessary additional attention with the brush.
“That’s very interesting,” he commented, taking the brush from her hand and continuing the grooming himself. “She’s spoiling you,” he addressed Majesty, running an affectionate hand along his flank. “She’d stand in here rubbing you down for the next hour if I let her.”
She tore her eyes from Travis’s fingers as they stroked the rich chestnut hide. “I don’t spoil him; it was just love and care I was giving. We all need that from time to time.”
He turned his head and met her eyes with a long, level look. “Yes, we all need that from time to time.”
That night, awake in the unfamiliar hotel room, Adelia tossed and turned, ultimately rolling over and pounding her innocent pillow.
Love was decidedly uncomfortable, unpredictable, and unwelcome.
Sighing, she hugged the pillow she had just beaten, determined to erase incredibly blue eyes from her dreams.
The next morning Adelia had her first real look at Churchill Downs. Leading Majesty from the stables, she stopped as she came to the track, her companion waiting with calm indulgence as she stared in open amazement.
The grounds were enormous, the wide mile-and-a-quarter track encircling a grass field bordered by fences and graced with well-shaped shrubs and flower beds of brilliant color.
Moving her eyes over the vast expanse of stands, she wondered somewhat whimsically who would be left to tend to the outside world when they were filled with people.
The tops of the stands were roofed, crowned with spires, she noted.
“Something wrong, Dee?” Her observations were interrupted by Travis’s question, and she jumped in surprise. “Sorry,” he said without bothering to conceal a grin. “Forgot to stomp.”
“I should be getting used to it by now.” She sighed and began to lead Majesty along once more. “What a grand place this is.” Her hand swept in an expressive arch as he fell into step beside her.
“It’s one of my favorites. The architecture’s basically the same as it was when it was built over a hundred years ago.
And, as you well know, it’s the most famous track of all because it is here that the Derby is run.
And the Derby, everyone remembers. On the first Saturday in May, this ribbon of track is gold, and for a few minutes the world stops, and it’s only the race.
” He turned to her with a smile. “It all comes down to the challenge at the turn for home, when the goal is still a quarter of a mile away. Since eighteen seventy-five the best horses have run here, and the best horses have won here. It’s not only the classic race, it’s a breeders’ race, and there isn’t anyone in the States who wouldn’t rather produce a winner in this than in any other contest. The winner of a Derby becomes the horse to beat for the rest of the season; the magic stays with him.
And this,” he continued, giving Majesty a friendly slap on the flank, “is one who likes to win.”
“Aye, that he does,” she agreed, giving Majesty an indulgent smile. “And he’s not shy about his own capabilities. He’s feeling pretty sure of himself. He wants the Blue Grass Stakes out of the way so he can move on to the Derby.”
“Does he?” The corner of his mouth tilted as Majesty nuzzled Adelia’s shoulder. “And how do you feel?” His finger touched her cheek, and she turned to face him. “Do you want the prep race out of the way so you can dive into the Derby?”
“I’m not ready for the first one yet.” Adelia shrugged, nearly stumbling as Majesty’s head nudged at her back.
“It’s him that’s in the hurry. But I like the looks of this place.
” Again, she encompassed Churchill Downs with a sweep of the hand.
“I like knowing it hasn’t changed much in all these years.
” She began to walk again, at Majesty’s urging.
“Never did I think to see such a place.”
“There are other tracks that are perhaps more eye-catching,” he commented, following her fascinated gaze. “At Hialeah in Florida, they have hundreds of pink flamingos in the center-field lake.”
Stopping, she turned to him with wide eyes. “I should like to see that.”