Page 5 of Irish Thoroughbred (Irish Hearts #1)

Later that morning Adelia worked in the stables, insisting over Paddy’s objections that she assist in the grooming of some of the horses. A sound behind her caused her to turn her head, and she encountered two small boys, one the mirror image of the other. She closed her eyes in mock alarm.

“Saints preserve us, sure and it’s losing my mind I am! I’m seeing double.”

The boys collapsed into giggles and spoke in unison. “We’re twins.”

“Is that the truth?” She breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Well, I’m glad to know it. I was afraid a spell had been put on me.”

“You talk just like Paddy,” one boy observed, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity.

“Do I, now?” She smiled down at their identical faces. The boys were about eight, she hazarded, dark as gypsies, with snapping brown eyes. “The reason for that may be I’m his niece, Adelia Cunnane, just arrived from Ireland.”

Two faces creased in two doubtful frowns. “He calls you little Dee, but you’re not little, you’re all grown up,” one boy complained, the other nodding in agreement.

“That I am, as far as I ever will be, I’m afraid. But I was just a wee babe when I last saw Uncle Paddy, and I never did grow very tall, so I’m little Dee to him. And what might your names be?” she questioned, putting down the currycomb that she had been using.

“Mark and Mike,” they announced, again in one voice.

“Don’t be telling me who’s who,” she commanded, narrowing dark green eyes. “I’ll guess; I’m mighty good at guessing.” She circled them as they resumed giggling. “You’d be Mark, and you’d be Mike,” she pronounced, placing a hand on each head. Two pairs of eyes stared at her in amazement.

“How did you know?” Mark demanded.

“I’m Irish,” she stated simply, controlling a grin. “There’s many of us from Ireland who’s fey.”

“Fey—what’s that?” Mike chimed in, eyes wide and curious.

“That means I have strange, secret powers,” Adelia claimed with a dramatic sweep of her hand. The two boys looked at each other and back at Adelia, suitably impressed.

“Mark, Mike.” A woman entered the stables and shook her head in despair. “I should have known the pair of you would be here.”

Adelia stared at the newcomer, stunned by her beauty and elegance.

She was tall and slender, clad in a simple but, to Adelia’s untrained eye, overwhelmingly beautiful outfit of dark blue slacks and white silk blouse.

Black, silky hair curled back from her face.

Soft, rose-tinted lips and a classic straight nose led to a pair of heavily lashed deep blue eyes that Adelia identified as Travis’s.

“I hope they haven’t been bothering you.” The woman peered down in indulgent exasperation. “They’re impossible to keep track of.”

“No, missus,” Adelia said, wondering if there had ever been a lovelier woman. “They’re fine lads. We’ve just been getting acquainted.”

“You must be Paddy’s niece, Adelia.” The generous mouth curved in a smile.

“Aye, missus.” Adelia managed a smile of her own and wondered what it would be like to be as graceful as a willow limb.

“I’m Trish Collins, Travis’s sister.” She extended her hand and Adelia gaped at in in horror. After Travis’s words the previous night she was self-conscious about the state of her hands, and her mind began to work swiftly.

How could she put her hard, rough hand into such a lovely soft one!

Yet there was no way out without being pointedly rude, so, wiping her palm on her jeans, she joined it with the one Trish offered.

The other woman had noted Adelia’s hesitation and concluded the reason for it when their hands met, but she made no comment.

At that moment, Travis entered the building, along with Paddy and a small, spare man Adelia did not recognize.

“Paddy!” The twins launched themselves at the stocky figure.

“Well, if it isn’t Tweedledee and Tweedledum. And what mischief have you been up to this fine day?”

“We came to meet Dee,” Mark announced. “She guessed which one of us was which.”

“She’s fey,” Mike added soberly.

Paddy nodded, equally grave, his eyes twinkling as they met Adelia’s over the two small heads. “Aye, that’s a fact. There’s been many a Cunnane who’s had the sight.”

“Adelia Cunnane”—Travis made introductions, a light smile playing over his mouth—“Dr. Robert Loman, our vet.”

“Pleased to meet you, Doctor,” Adelia greeted him, strategically keeping her hands behind her back.

“Rob’s come to look over Solomy,” Paddy explained. “She’ll be foaling soon.”

The pixie face lit with pleasure, and, looking down at her, Travis raised his brows. “Would you like to see her, Adelia?”

“Very much.” She beamed him a smile, previous animosity forgotten.

“She’s foaling quite late,” Travis commented as the group walked down the long length of stalls.

“A Thoroughbred’s official birthday is January the first, and normally we breed with that in mind.

We just acquired Solomy six months ago, and of course she was already in foal.

She’s from a good line, and the stud she was bred to is by the same sire as Majesty. ”

“Then you must have big hopes for the foal,” Adelia returned, thinking of Majesty’s style and speed.

“I think,” he said with a smile, “you could safely say we had hopes for this foal.” Placing a hand on her shoulder, he turned her toward an enclosure. “Adelia,” Travis said with amused formality, “meet Solomy.”

She sighed with delight at the animal, a dark, gleaming bay mare with a mane of flowing black silk. Running her hand down the stark flash of white on the forehead, she looked into dark, intelligent eyes.

“You’re a fine, beautiful lady.” The caressing of the smooth hide was met with a whinny of approval.

“I suppose you’d like a closer look,” Travis observed, opening the stall door and gesturing for her to enter.

She preceded him and the vet into the stall, carrying on a low conversation with Solomy as she explored the swollen belly, probing with gentle, capable fingers. After a few moments she stopped and turned concerned eyes to Travis’s laughing ones.

“The foal’s turned wrong.”

The blue eyes lost their laughter and studied her intently.

“Quite right, Miss Cunnane,” Robert Loman agreed with a professional nod. “A quick diagnosis.” Entering the stall, he too ran hands over the mare’s belly. “We’re hoping the foal will turn before she’s full term.”

“But you’re not thinking it’s likely; her time’s almost here.”

“No, we’re not.” He turned back to her, faintly surprised and greatly curious as to her knowledge. “We have to deal with the possibility of a breech. Have you had any training?”

“More doing than training.” She shrugged, uncomfortable at having the attention focused on her. “I worked with a vet back in Ireland. I’ve done some birthings and some stitching and splinting.”

She stepped out of the stall to stand beside Paddy, watching as the vet proceeded with his work. Paddy’s arm slipped around her shoulders, and she rested her head against him.

“I hate to think what a hard time she’ll be having. We had a mare that carried breech once, and I had to turn the babe.” She sighed with the memory. “I can still see her poor, trusting eyes on me. How I hated to hurt her.”

“You turned a foal by yourself?” Travis demanded, drawing her attention from the past. “That’s a difficult enough job for a full-grown man, let alone a little thing like you.”

She bristled, bringing herself up to the full of her meager height.

“It may be that I’m small, Mr. Grant, but I’m strong enough to do what needs to be done.

” She glared up at him, her pride under attack, and stuck out her chin.

“I’ll tell you this: for all our difference in size I can work the day through with you! ”

Stifling a snort of laughter, Paddy focused on a spot on the ceiling as Travis regarded her indignation with cool, steady eyes. After a moment, she turned and began to walk toward the front of the building.

“Did you really see a horse being born, Dee?” The twins tagged after her full of excitement.

“Many a time, and cows and pigs and the like.” She took a small hand in each of hers and continued over the concrete floor. “There was a time I birthed twin lambs, and that was the prettiest sight.…”

Travis continued to stare after her as her voice trailed off in the distance.

The next few days passed easily for Adelia as she became accustomed to a new life and new surroundings.

On the occasions she spoke to Travis, she continually struggled to hold back the tongue he seemed to have a habit of provoking.

He stirred strange feelings in her, feelings she could neither comprehend nor prevent, and her defense against them took shape in a quick retort and flashing eyes.

Though she gave herself nightly lectures on the evils of temper, when confronted with him during the daylight hours her vow of restraint slipped through her fingers.

She found herself watching him once as he strode toward the stables, his blue denim work shirt straining over broad shoulders as he moved over the grass.

He seemed to eat up the ground with a careless vitality.

There was a strange pull at her heart, and she sighed, then bit her lip in annoyance.

It was only that he was such a fine, strongly built man, she told herself, lean and powerful.

She dismounted from the Thoroughbred she had been exercising and rubbed his neck vigorously.

She had always admired strength and power, the same way she admired this strong, well-proportioned animal.

Everyone she had met held Travis Grant in great respect and admiration.

When he gave an order, it was carried out without question.

Only Paddy, it seemed, had the right to advise or question.