Authors: Susan Anne Mason
Irish Meadows
© 2015 by Susan Anne Mason
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Ebook edition created 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâfor example, electronic, photocopy, recordingâwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-2856-7
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Jennifer Parker
Cover photography by Olga Shelegeda
Author is represented by the Natasha Kern Literary Agency.
To my Grade 6 teacher, Mr. Guistini,
the first person to encourage me to write a book.
Thank you for planting the seed that eventually took root. Almost forty years later, I finally did it!
M
AY
1911
L
ONG
I
SLAND
, N
EW
Y
ORK
L
ATE
-
AFTERNOON
SHADOWS
chased Gilbert Whelan up the long drive to the O'Leary mansion. The fanciful images seemed to bolster him from behind, giving him the courage to push forward. Even so, his steps slowed as he approached the flagstone path leading up to the house. A wave of homesickness tightened his throat, his suitcase weighing heavy in his hand.
Had it really been the better part of three years since he'd crossed the threshold? Gil swallowed the bitter taste of guilt that plagued him and continued to the foot of the wide, welcoming staircase. He set his battered bag on the ground and took in the familiar viewâthe wraparound porch, the double front door. He'd come here as a child with his widowed mother, who'd hired on as the O'Learys' housekeeper. Gil still found it difficult
to think of the tragic illness that had claimed his mother's life and led to him being taken in as part of the O'Leary family.
Belonging . . . yet not belonging.
Gil ran a hand over the large white column to his left, his touch hesitant, nearly reverent. The red bricks of Irish Meadows had changed little since he'd been gone. If only the same could be said of its inhabitants.
Gil let his hand fall away with a sigh. If he'd had his way, he wouldn't have come back at allâfor a multitude of complicated reasons. But he owed the O'Learys too much to avoid them any longer. So, he would stay long enough to repay his debt to his guardians, and then he'd move on to start a life of his own.
Lord, I could really use Your guidance here
. Give me the strength to do what needs to be
done without hurting anyone in the process.
Behind the ornate doors, Gil knew the family would be waiting to greet him like a long-lost son returning home. Reluctant to face their exuberant welcomes just yet, Gil turned down the stone path and made his way to the one place he felt most at homeâthe O'Leary stables. When he rounded the corner of the house and spied the enormous barn, a thrill of anticipation shot through him. How blessed he'd been to work on such a top-notch farm, raising and training the best racehorses on the eastern seaboard. At James O'Leary's feet, Gil had learned everything he needed to branch out on his own one day soon.
As he entered the building, Gil breathed in the familiar scent of hay, horse, and manure. He'd missed working with the animals almost as much as he'd missed the O'Learys. Manhattan was an exhilarating city, but Gil far preferred the fresh air, wide skies, and open meadows of Long Island. Especially in the spring when all of nature bloomed anew.
His gaze skimmed the immaculate mahogany stalls with their engraved brass nameplates for each thoroughbred. His ears tuned to the horses' quiet nickering, a sound more beautiful than a
symphony. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Gil made his way to the one stall he'd be able to find blindfolded. When he raised the latch, Midnight Royalty gave a loud whinny in greeting. In an instant, Gil had his arms around the great black neck, murmuring words of affection for his friend. The horse tossed his head, flicking his nose to send Gil's cap sailing into the straw.
Gil laughed out loud. “I've missed you too, boy. But I'm home now.”
For
a
while anyway.
He stroked his hand along Midnight's sleek flank. “Looks like they've been taking good care of you while I was gone. Your coat's as shiny as I've ever seen it.”
“I brushed him every day for you.”
Gil's hand froze on Midnight's back, every vertebrae of his spine stiffening.
Brianna.
The one person he'd been trying not to think about, trying not to imagine seeing again for the first time in three years. He swallowed hard, and then turned to find her standing in the open doorway of the stall. His lungs seized, trapping his air, while his heart beat an unsteady rhythm in his chest.
The sprite of a girl he'd left behind had matured into a beautiful young woman. Clad in a dress of soft green that showed off her slim figure, Brianna stood quietly, hands clasped against her skirts. She wore her reddish-gold curls swept atop her head, leaving a few strands clinging to her slender neck. Wide green eyes watched him as though trying to gauge his reaction.
“Brianna. It's good to see you. You look . . . wonderful.” He wiped his hands on his wool pants and moved forward to kiss her cheek. Her delicate scent, a cross between green apples and roses, met his nose.
A smile lit her features. “Thank you. You look well yourself.”
He glanced down at his brown tweed vest and linen shirt. “I feel in need of a bath after the dust from the train and the walk here from the station.”
A slight frown knit her brows together. “You should have called. Daddy would have sent Sam to get you.”
He gave a sheepish shrug. “I wanted to walk. It felt good to breathe the fresh air after the grime of the city.”
She stepped into the stall. “I'm glad you're home, Gil. I . . . we've missed you.”
The already tight space seemed to shrink. Gil managed a brief smile. “I've missed all of you, too.”
More than you
know.
“And look at you. You've gone and grown up while I was away.” He hoped his voice conveyed a levity he didn't feel. This mature young woman left him sorely out of his element. Where was the tomboy he'd felt so comfortable with? “Tell me, who's the lucky man courting you now?”
“Who says anyone is courting me?”
He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. “You're almost eighteen. About to graduate. I assumedâ”
“Well, you assumed wrong.”
The pinched lines around her mouth told him the subject was not open for further discussion.
She turned away to pick up a piece of hay and shred it between her slim fingers. “So how does it feel to be finished with your college courses?” she asked brightly.
He studied her profile for a moment and decided he'd let her get away with changing the subject. He'd learn all the family news soon enough. “It feels like I'm finally starting my life. Doing something that matters.” He bent to retrieve his hat from the floor and brushed the dirt from the brim.
She tilted her head. “Getting your degree didn't matter?”
“It's a means to an end, that's all.”
“I think going to college would be the most thrilling thing ever. Living in the city surrounded by all the people and excitement.” Her eyes glowed brighter than the stars he'd missed since leaving Irish Meadows.
He shook his head, chuckling. “Same old, Bree. Always dreaming of adventure. Glad to see some things haven't changed.”
A slight flush colored her cheeks. Very attractive cheeks in a very attractive face.
He turned to run his hands down Midnight's haunches. “Looks like Sam's been exercising him regularly.” The head groom, Sam Turnbull, had taught Gil everything he knew about training horses.
“Of course. Sam always keeps his word.” She stepped closer, trapping Gil between Midnight and the wall, and laid a warm hand on his sleeve.
Gil went completely still. If he moved his head, his nose would brush tendrils of her hair. His throat became as dry as the dust that coated the floor, the tight enclosure suddenly too much to bear. He slipped around her and pushed the stall door wider. “We'd best be going. I'm sure your mother's waiting.”
“All right.” The disappointment in her voice matched the regret that stole the sparkle from her eyes.
Gil had hoped by now her childhood crush on him would have faded. That had been the main reason he'd stayed away, to give her time to mature and find a more suitable male to become interested in. And he'd vowed that when he returned to Irish Meadows, he would do nothing to encourage her. After all, they were practically family.
With a last rub of Midnight's nose, he latched the door behind him. They'd taken a few steps when the sound of a motorcar pulling up to the house echoed through the open stable doors. Brianna stopped dead in the middle of the corridor. She whirled around, eyes huge. “That's Daddy. I have to go.”
Instead of heading toward the main doors, she set off at a fast pace toward the back of the barn, the swish of her skirts kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Wait.” Gil fell into step beside her, eying her dress that was anything but suitable for the barn. “What are you doing down here anyway?”
She paused to raise slightly vulnerable eyes to his. “I knew
you'd come here first. And I wanted to be the one to welcome you home.” A car door slammed, and she jumped. “Please don't tell Daddy I was here.”
Brianna O'Leary slipped through the back door of her family's home and down a small corridor to the kitchen. It was the only way to reach the back staircase without running the risk of bumping into either of her parents. Leaning against the doorframe to get her bearings, she closed her eyes and released a frustrated breath.
For weeks she'd daydreamed about Gil's homecomingâimagined what it would be like to see him again, to have her best friend back. Yet the reality of their reunion had not lived up to her expectations. Their connectionâonce so strong and unbreakableânow seemed as fleeting as the afternoon sun that filtered through the barn. Gil had acted awkward and halting around her, as though he felt uncomfortable with her nearness. How would they ever return to their former closeness if he kept an invisible wall around him?
Brianna squared her shoulders in firm resolve. What she needed was a different approach, a new plan to gain Gil's confidence, as well as his help in changing Daddy's mind about her future.
But first she had to reach the shelter of her room. Daddy wouldn't like it if he found out she'd waylaid Gil in the barn. Her father had made it plain he would no longer tolerate her hanging around the stables, and now she only rode her beloved Sophie when he wasn't around to scold her.
Brianna peered around the corner into the busy kitchen. Mrs. Harrison barked orders to the scullery maids, who scurried to do her bidding. Steam whistled from the large pots on the stove. The enticing aroma of freshly baked bread made Brianna's stomach grumble. With dinner preparations in full swing, she hoped she'd be able to slip by the cook unnoticed.
When Mrs. Harrison turned to stir a pot on the stove, Brianna lifted her skirts and tiptoed across the tiled floor.
“Is there something I can help you with, Miss Brianna?” The woman threw an amused glance over her shoulder.
Brianna froze in the middle of the room, then forced an innocent smile. “Mama was wondering how long until dinner.”
The plump cook wiped a bead of sweat from beneath her white cap, then fisted a hand on her hip. “You don't fool me for a minute, missy. You've been down to the barn to see Master Gilbert, and now you're sneaking back in.”
“How did youâ”
“I've known you since you were a babe. You never could hide anything from me.”
Brianna's cheeks heated. “I had to see Gil”â
before Colleen gets her claws into
himâ
“before everyone starts fussing over him.”
Mrs. Harrison chuckled. “I've missed that boy almost as much as you have.” She winked at her. “Go on and freshen up. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you.” Brianna let out a relieved breath and dashed from the kitchen to the back staircase.
Once safely in her room, Brianna locked the door and plopped down on her quilted bed, the iron frame squeaking under her. She reached beneath the mattress and pulled out her journal to read the words she'd penned that very morning.
Goal for the
summer: Enlist Gil's help in persuading Daddy to let
me go to college in the fall.