IRISH FIRE (19 page)

She walked back to the bar, poured a pint of Guinness from the tap, let it stand for a minute and then filled the glass to the brim and brought it back to him. You loved horses as much as I did, Martin. Why did you become a priest? Didnt it bother you to give it all up?

He picked up his glass and drank half of it down. I never loved the life as much as you did, Caitie. No one did. You were so taken with the idea that you couldnt see what the rest of us were suited for at all. I was bothered that you might be disappointed in me until my mother made me see things differently.

How did she do that?

She told me you were too smart to let a mere person stand in your way. She said you would get what you wanted no matter what I or anyone else did. She was right, wasnt she, Caitie?

This was Martin, the boy shed grown up with, confided in, the boy she once thought she knew better than her own sisters. He was very simple after all, but hed been blessed with a wise mother. They all had. Yes, Martin, she was right.

He smiled. Ill be leaving now, Caitlin. What do I owe you?

Therell be no charge this time. Dont tell Mum.

He laughed and headed for the door.

Martin?

Aye? He turned expectantly.

Brian and I went to Galway to see a vet. Thats all there was.

Martin looked down at the floor, hesitated, and then walked back to where she sat. Taking her hands he pulled her to her feet searching her face intently.

He was very close. What is it? she asked uneasily.

His mouth tightened briefly and then relaxed. He released her hands and stepped back. Perhaps thats all it was for you, Caitie, but it may have meant more for Brian.

She did not pretend to misunderstand. How do you know?

Brian Hennessey is my friend. There isnt a great deal I dont know about him.

Are you warning me again, Martin?

He shook his head. Im appealing to you. If youre not in this for the long term, dont toy with him.

Ive never toyed with anyone.

He smiled sadly. Perhaps not intentionally, but there were a few broken hearts when you left Kilcullen.

She flushed angrily. Dont be absurd. I was a child.

And now youre a woman, a beautiful woman.

Caitlin was torn between exasperation and amusement. One minute he disapproved of her and the next he flattered her. Go away, Martin, she said, waving him off, or Ill be ranting at you again.

He grinned. You were a hellion, Caitie, do you remember that?

Surely thats a bit harsh.

Not the way I remember it. Give my love to your mum. Perhaps Ill see you at Mass come Sunday.

She groaned. You know you will. Im actually quite reverent now that Annies attending Saint Patricks.

His smile faded and the serious look came back to his face. Youre a good mother, Caitlin Keneally. No one can deny you that.

Hed noticed. She was deeply touched. Thank you, Martin.

It wasnt until after Kirsty arrived for her afternoon shift that Caitlin passed the locked post office and thought of her mother. The store was never closed on a weekday. Where was Brigid?

She crossed the street and stepped into the cafe. Lana was sweeping up after her last customer. Have you seen my mum, Lana? Caitlin asked.

Not today. Lanas voice was unmistakably frosty.

Kathleen Finch came out from the kitchen. I saw her this mornin. She had breakfast here after you drove Annie to school.

Has anyone seen her since?

Kathleens eyes widened. Has she been gone all this time?

Im not sure. Ive been working the pub since morning.

Lana spoke up. Dont be worrying over nothing. She took the day to do a bit of shopping. The holidays are coming up, you know.

Caitlin relaxed. Lana was right. Her mother had lived alone for a long time. She wasnt accustomed to announcing her plans to anyone. If you see her tell her that Im on my way to the Curragh.

Lana stiffened.

The children are meeting me there after school, Caitlin said hastily, backing out of the restaurant.

Back on the street, Caitlin sighed, pulled on her knitted hat, and rolled up the brim. Her weekend in Galway had resulted in more than a dressing down from Martin. There was no mistaking Lanas hostility. She saw Caitlin as a rival for Brian Hennesseys affections. Their time away could be easily explained, of course, but Caitlin wasnt convinced that a few chosen words in Lanas ear would solve the problem.

The truth of it was that she
was
attracted to Brian Hennessey. That night on the vets couch in Galway was proof enough if shed ever doubted it. She tingled, her body flushed with the memory of his tongue parting her lips, his mouth and hands moving across her skin, awakening a desire she hadnt known existed, not for her anyway.

She wanted him. That part was undeniable, but was it enough, her wanting without offering more? Martin insinuated that it wasnt, that Brian Hennessey was a man who should not be trifled with. Was it fair to make him love her unless she loved him in return, and if not, was it honest to offer a man the promise of love some time in the future just because he knew the secret of lighting a flame inside of her?

H
e wasnt concentrating. Deliberately pushing aside all thoughts except the horse beneath him, Brian rose instinctively in the saddle, allowing the full weight of his body to balance on the balls of his feet.
Graybeards Lady
, the horse hed taken a chance on and purchased at Ballinasloe, responded like a champion and sailed over the hurdle as if she were born for the Grand National, the most important steeple chase in the world. Recovering, she moved into a slow gallop, running easily.

On Brians cue, Davy Flynn leaned over, yelled and prodded her in the rump. The filly would need to become accustomed to shouting, bumping, and quick movements, the world of horse racing. Brian liked the way she movedconfidently, deliberately, more like a veteran three year old than the two year old she was. It was time to teach her how to run like a racehorse, to level out and reach for ground.

Brian clucked to the horse, urging her to pick up speed slowly. At the quarter pole he chirped. She leveled and reached out, stretching, her body lower to the ground, accelerating rapidly, gathering speed. Steady, girl, the trainer crooned, give yourself time. No need to rush into anything.

Responding to the soothing voice, the filly stabilized, synchronized her legs and gathered momentum. It was raining steadily by the time she reached the three-eighths pole, the midpoint, and the track was muddy. Brian felt her fall against the bit. He eased down in the saddle, reached forward with his whip and waved it in front of her right eye. Immediately she increased her speed, striding hard against the bit, breathing easily, all the way to the wire. The time was 0.36, a perfect twelve clip. Brians heart pounded. At Ballinasloe, for an absurd price, hed found his champion.

Walking back to the stalls, Davy kept up a flow of conversation. Brian heard none of it. Cursing his lack of discipline, he dismounted, ran a hand down the colts trembling flank and held out the reins. Lets call it a day, Davy, lad. Im not thinking clearly.

Davy threw him a curious look, nodded, reached for the leather, and maneuvered the filly in the direction of the hotwalker.

Brian watched as they disappeared around the whitewashed walls of the foaling pens, his attention once again claimed by his meeting with Caitlin the day before. Their tentative relationship had turned into something he hadnt expected, something stronger, deeper. Brian wasnt a believer in miracles. He knew it would take just that for a woman like Caitlin, hurt as shed been to risk her heart again.

Brian took a long time checking the stallions boxes. There were eight of them left. The mares had been sent back to their owners for a brief respite before they came into season again. The stallions were unusually silent, libidos calm, muscles relaxed. Brian spoke to them all, soothingly, caressingly, as a man does who understands the potential of arousing eighty stone of deadly power.

After slipping in the bolt on the last stall, Brian turned off the light and walked up the paved walk, through the copse of trees to the small whitewashed cottage where Neeve waited patiently for her evening meal. He refilled her water dish, set down a bowl of kibble and opened his refrigerator with disinterest. Tonight his own cooking didnt appeal to him. He could go into town and have a meal at Bernies or he could make do with what he had in his own cupboards. Venturing into Kilcullen meant risking a meeting with Lana. She was everywhere these days.

He frowned, looked at his watch, and once again surveyed the contents of his refrigerator. Brian didnt pretend to be a creative cook. Food was a necessity, a means of satisfying the hunger pangs in his stomach, nothing more. The less time he spent in the kitchen the better. He couldnt run from Lana for the rest of his life. It was Tuesday and still early for dinner. With luck he could be in and out of Bernies before anyone knew he was there.

Bernie Lewis, the proprietor of Kilcullens only fine restaurant, opened the door for him. Have you tired of your own cookin so soon, lad? You were in just last week.

Brian grinned. He was the only customer. Are you turnin away business, Bernie?

Not a bit. I wasnt plannin on openin up the restaurant but if you dont mind the bar, Ill put you in a chair by the fire.

Pulling his cap off, Brian impatiently fingercombed his hair. As long as the foods hot, Im not particular.

Ive salmon tonight and leg of lamb, if you can wait. Its not quite done.

Brian sat down on a stool near the fire. Salmon will do, along with some of those potatoes and a green salad if you have it.

I have it. Bernie set a glass of Guinness in front of Brian. Word has it weve important visitors in town.

The ale was mellow and creamy against the back of his throat. He savored the flavor before speaking. This is Kilcullen, Bernie. Were less than five miles from the most important race track in Europe. We always have important visitors.

This ones different. Hes Caitie Keneallys husband come to take back his colt.

Brian could feel the tendons swell and stiffen in his neck. Is that so?

Aye. Bernie leaned over the bar, eager to impart his information. So they say.

They?

An icy breeze swept through the restaurant. Brian turned toward the door, words of welcome dying on his lips.

Sam Claiborne, his voice dripping with sarcasm, spoke to the man beside him. Is this the best you can come up with, Fahey? The clientele really isnt up to standard. Eating with the hired help wont do at all.

Fahey looked uncomfortable. He moved closer to Claiborne. Be reasonable, Sam. This is the only place in town, he muttered under his breath.

Brian swallowed more of his Guinness. Keeping his expression neutral, he waited for Claiborne to make a decision. Long minutes passed. From across the room the mans eyes challenged him. Unperturbed, Brian met his stare. No one was chasing him away. Sam Claiborne would have to lower his standards or go hungry.

Claiborne was the first to look away. Without a word, he walked to the opposite end of the bar and sat down. Fahey glanced apologetically at Brian before taking the seat beside him.

Brian was in the middle of an exceptionally good cut of salmon when once again he heard the door open and felt the cold on his neck. This time the voice that greeted Bernie froze his fork in the air, halfway to his lips. He turned to see Caitlin framed in the doorway, her slender figure wrapped in something long and red and definitely more elegant than the town of Kilcullen was accustomed to seeing on one of their own.

It was the first time hed seen her since her revelations when theyd met in Naas, and he was more than a little curious as to how she would behave when she saw him again. He neednt have worried. She didnt so much as glance in his direction, but went directly to where Sam Claiborne and the man hed called Fahey waited. Brian glanced over his shoulder. Obviously she was expected. The men shifted to make room for her.

The salmon tasted like ashes in his mouth. He would have given an enormous percentage of his next winning purse to know what the topic of conversation was on the other side of the room.

Before long, the sound of chair legs scraping the floor alerted him. Casually, he glanced in their direction. Fahey was standing, clearly calling it a night. Caitlin had turned so that Brian could see her profile. What caught his attention was the expression on her face. Clearly she was disturbed, not an unexpected emotion considering her circumstances, but she was looking at Fahey, not at her husband. Could she be upset that the man was leaving? And where in bloody hell was Bernie? The man was never around when you wanted him.

Brian debated with himself. Should he stride across the room, interrupt their conversation when Caitlin hadnt even acknowledged him? He was fairly certain she hadnt seen him. She wasnt the kind of woman to snub a man who moved in a different social circle. Perhaps it was time to notify her of his presence.

Leaving his salmon and potatoes, Brian stood and crossed the room to stand behind her chair. Hello, Caitlin, he said.

She looked both startled and pathetically relieved. How long have you been here? she asked.

It was a coat. She was wearing a coat, a long red coat with sleek lines and a stand up collar, the kind hed seen on magazine covers. His glance met hers and held. Long enough to finish most of my meal.

Blushing under his intense regard, she gestured toward Faheys empty chair. Please, join us.

Brian hesitated. Before he could refuse, Claiborne spoke up. This is a family matter, Caitlin. I think Mr. Hennessey would only be uncomfortable, not to mention being in the way.

There was nothing Brian wanted more than to leave Sam Claibornes presence but he couldnt resist the appeal in Caitlins eyes. Ive my dinner to finish, he said, ignoring Claiborne completely, but Ive a few matters to discuss with you. Ill wait until youre done and then drive you home.

Ill take my wife home, Hennessey. Claibornes voice dripped with insult.

Caitlin turned on her husband. Actually, I dont believe we can settle anything here tonight. Youve made your position quite clear. We obviously need a mediator. Ill be in touch through my lawyer.

Sams lips paled with anger. Throwing down his napkin he pushed back his chair and rose. I suggest you find yourself a good Kentucky lawyer who knows the risks involved.

Ill stick to the one I have, replied Caitlin. Hes less likely to be influenced by Claiborne money than a
good
Kentucky lawyer.

Suit yourself. Without a word to Brian he strode across the floor and out the door.

Caitlin stared after him, her eyes wide and dark and mutinous.

Brian waited.

I apologize, she said at last.

For what?

My husbands rude behavior.

Brian sat down beside her. No need. You arent responsible for him.

She looked down at her hands. Her lids were tinted a delicate mauve. No. I suppose not.

Are you hungry?

She looked up. Not really. Sam has a way of ruining my appetite.

He grinned. Mine, too.

You said you had something to discuss with me?

Brian shook his head. Red wool, dark hair, ivory skin, French perfume. His senses were reeling. He wet his lips. Nothin in particular, just a feelin that you needed rescuin.

Her face stilled, all expression erased. Is that why you came over?

What other reason would there be? Your husband wouldnt be my choice for a dinner companion.

Tilting her head, she studied him. Candlelight bathed her face, sculpting her cheekbones, shadowing the hollows beneath them. Youve rescued me, Brian Hennessey, she said quietly. I can find my own way home.

Disregarding the voice in his head warning him that no good could come of this, he reached for her hand. It was cool, her fingers slender with space between the bones. Ive a better idea. Come with me to Naas for a drink and some real Irish music.

Why?

He looked surprised. There was no time to think of a clever response. The truth would have to do. Because I want to dance with you.

The brilliance of her smile shattered him. I hoped that was it.

Will you?

Yes.

Still holding her hand, he stood, pulling her to her feet, and fished in his pocket for money to pay his bill. He nodded at the drinks on the bar in front of them. Is this taken care of?

No.

He threw down a ten punt note. Shall we go?

Caitlin nodded. First, I need to call home. Otherwise, my mother will worry.

She was thoughtful. He liked that. Ill wait in the car.

By the time she climbed into the passenger seat, Brians nerves had taken on the seesaw swinging of a pendulum. No good could come of taking his relationship with Caitlin to another level. Heartache was the inevitable outcome. He knew she wasnt indifferent to him. Their night in Galway had proven it beyond all doubt. But Caitlin wasnt a green girl. She was a woman with experience behind her, a woman who wouldnt be swept away by mere words, not the second time around.

She saw him waver and, because she was Caitlin, nailed him to the dashboard. Youre very quiet. Regretting me already, Brian?

He had nothing to lose. Not for the reasons you think.

How do you know what I think?