IRISH FIRE

by Jeanette Baker

  I always knew there was something odd about me, Caitlin confessed. I didnt look like a Keneally but it was more than that. How did one explain the feeling of sitting at the table, watching common rituals like ones mother dishing up plates, smearing brown sauce on praties, reprimanding a daughter for her table manners or her conversation or her marks in school, and all the while feeling she was different from her sisters?

  You were different, but not because you werent Sean Keneallys daughter. You would have been different no matter who your father was.

  It was time for the question, the one that had haunted Caitlin since the day Ciara Burke whispered in her ear, in lurid detail, how babies were put inside their mothers stomachs. Why did you have me at all, Mum?

  Brigid looked perplexed. Quite frankly, Caitlin, I had no choice.

  It was not the answer shed expected. Yes, you did. You could have gone north or to England. People did it all the time, even then.

  What are you saying, lass?

  Caitlins hands shook. Carefully, she set her cup and saucer down on the tray. You could have had an abortion. There it was, put into ugly, honest words.

  Finally, Brigid understood. Her face, pretty still, even at seventy-one, settled into lines of shock. Why would you ask such a thing? she gasped.

  Caitlin waited until she could trust herself to speak. You were forty years old, a widow with five children. Isnt that reason enough?

  It might be for some women, her mother agreed, but I never once considered it.

  Not even when my father wouldnt marry you?

  Brigids eyes widened in sudden understanding. A woman doesnt love a child because of a man, Caitie. Would you love your children anymore if someone other than Sam Claiborne had fathered them?

  Her mind flashed mental images, Annies face, scrubbed and clean, Bens cheeks, round, moist and warm when shed kissed him after his bath. Of course not. The suggestion angered her.

  Isnt that what you thought, that I loved you less because of Michael?

  Caitlin stared into the fire. Put into words, the idea was absurd.

  Brigid left her chair and knelt beside Caitlin, taking her daughters hands between her own. By the time Lelia was born, I had no feelins for Sean Keneally beyond pity. If your logic was sound, it should have been Kitty and Mary askin the questions, not you. I loved Michael Duran even if he didnt care enough t marry me. I may not have welcomed the idea of having another child, Caitie, but dont doubt that you were loved, deeply loved, from the moment I knew you were goin t be born. Can you understand the difference?

  Strangely enough, she could. Tears were embarrassing but the primal, human need for emotional catharsis was strong within her, and for the first time in her life, Caitlin was grateful for her mothers shoulder. Burying her face against the soft skin of Brigids neck, she wept. I dont know what to do, she said at last, sniffing back the last of the tears. Please, Mum, tell me what to do.

  Oh, love. Brigids voice was a mix of laughter and regret. Only you can decide that. But Ill be here while you decide. I promise you that.

  30

  She was the last person he expected to see. Keeping his face impassive, Brian turned back to check the stirrups on the two-year-old roan hed acquired yesterday. Hello, Lana.

  I was in the neighborhood, she began.

  He finished with the horse, ran his hand down the withers and turned to look at Lana, his expression unreadable.

  No one has seen you for some time now, she faltered, unsure of herself.

  Brian was surprised at the level of animosity that rose inside of him at the sight of her. Most of my business is in Naas and Kildare Town.

  Fidgeting with a buckle on the strap of her purse, she reached out to stroke the horses neck. Whats his name?

  Northern Lights, he said shortly. What can I do for you, Lana?

  She shrank back, pulling her hand away. I was wondering if you had time for a bite to eat?

  Remorse replaced his annoyance. Lana believed herself to be in love with him. If he had been more direct in the first place, the whole mess would never have happened. Im afraid not, he said gently.

  Youve friends in Kilcullen, Brian, she said, growing bolder. It would mean a great deal to us to have some news of how youre getting on.

  He couldnt allow her to humiliate herself anymore. Plain speaking was the only way. My friends know how Im gettin on. He emphasized the word friends.

  In the dim light of the barn, he could see a wave of red stain her face and neck. I thought she stopped.

  He waited, refusing to help her.

  Caitlin wont have you, she burst out. Shes made it plain enough.

  Has she now?

  You cant deny it.

  Ignoring the searing hurt that followed her words, he kept his eyes on Lanas face. Im wonderin how you came by that bit of information. Its not as if Caitlin would take you into her confidence now, would she?

  You dont know that.

  Controlling his temper, Brian soothed the fidgety colt, clucking gently under his breath. Keeping his eyes on the now quiet animal, he spoke deliberately. I know this. When a woman betrays one of her own, it makes a man wonder how loyal she would be to him.

  She gasped. Youve no call to talk to me this way, Brian Hennessey.

  Weve no call to say anythin to each other at all, lass. You know where my heart is, whether or not shell have me.

  He watched her eyes flicker across his face. Something in his expression must have convinced her in a way that words had not. She blinked back tears. Automatically, his hand moved in search of a handkerchief. His nature, the same one that brought him to a love of dogs and horses, and later to children, was moved to pity by her tears. Midway to his pocket, he changed his mind. Better to let her cry it out, to despise him if she was so inclined.

  They stayed that way, without speaking, for interminable seconds. Finally, she threw him a last angry, watery glance and left the barn.

  Davy Flynn arrived on her heels. He hurried to explain. I wasnt listenin at the door, if thats what youre thinkin.

  Brian laughed. He felt lighter, somehow, as if settling with Lana had lifted several stone from his shoulders. Anything was possible. What are you doin here?

  Lookin for work. Ive left the Curragh hopin youd take me on.

  In that case take the colt out, will you, Davy, lad? Ive some paperwork that needs attendin.

  Hed painted the office himself and refinished the floors, all in the six weeks since the house and grounds had officially become his own. The normally exhausting effort turned out to be a catharsis for long, lonely winter nights, replacing memories of another house rich with children, firelight, conversation, and delicious food smells.

  Refusing to pedal backward, he stayed away from the local pub, forcing himself to concentrate instead on improving the first home hed ever owned. Butter yellow walls blended with gleaming oak floors and molded bay windows, creating the illusion of light and warmth and space. Prints and photos in oak frames filled the walls and a desk with the same golden wood as the floor faced the largest window. Through it he could see miles and miles across the rolling horse country of Kildare.

  This was his room, his place of business, part of the house yet separate from it with an outside entrancea place of solitude, a retreat, a sanctuary, the only finished space in the entire house besides the kitchen. Every time Brian stepped in and closed the door against the outside world, satisfaction and peace welled up within him. He had no desire to complete the other rooms, not yet. This was where he wanted to spend his life, to bring his wife, to raise his children. A woman would have something to say about the color and design of the rooms she would make her own. Not for an instant did he consider that his dream of a life with the woman he wanted might not be realized.

  For Brian Hennessey, pure Celt, descendent of a fey, blue-eyed island people who believed in fate and wee folk and answers in the mist, when two people were meant for each other, time and distance and the petty difficulties created in
their own minds to keep them apart meant nothing in destinys overall scheme. He would wait, forever if necessary, until the woman intended for him was ready to accept what he already knew.

  Pulling his chair close to the desk, Brian busied himself with his accounts, not noticing the passage of time until a knock at the outside door interrupted him. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he called out, Come in, and waited.

  Sam Claiborne stepped into the room. Brians face, schooled to keep thoughts to himself, slipped momentarily into lines of disbelief. For a minute he thought hed made a mistake but when the light fell full strength on the mans tobacco gold hair and whiskey-blurred features, he knew he had not.

  He watched Claiborne glance around the room taking in the furnishings, the pictures, the desk, before coming back to him.

  Id offer you a chair, Mr. Claiborne, but now that youve had a look Im not sure youll be stayin long enough to need one.

  Sam winced. I didnt come to cause any trouble.

  I thought youd gone home.

  Im only here for a few days to finalize some purchases.

  Why did you come?

  May I sit down?

  Brian waved him to one of the empty chairs. If you like.

  Sam came right to the point. Caitlin told me.

  Not by the flicker of an eyelash did Brian reveal his thoughts.

  Im here because of Annie and Ben. Sam laughed bitterly. Despite what it looks like, I love my children. It hasnt been easy living apart, not seeing them for months at a time.

  The spring that coiled Brians stomach into a large restrictive knot eased slightly. I imagine it hasnt.

  Sam looked up. Does that mean you wont object?

  To what?

  To my having them for the summer.

  Brian stared at him. Was the man insane? Had he missed something? I dont understand. Why would I object to any decisions you and Caitlin make regardin your children?

  As her husband you should have some sort of influence on her, for Christs sake, although why I would think so escapes me at the moment. No one I know has ever influenced Caitlin. He sank lower into the chair, as if weighted down by his own words. She doesnt want me to have the children for the summer months. She says Ireland is beautiful in the summer.

  It is, Brian said automatically. What in bloody hell was going on?

  So is Kentucky, he heard the man reply over the roaring in his ears.

  Stalling for time to figure out the root of Claibornes insanity, Brian opened the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Without asking, he poured the drinks and passed one across the desk. Sam emptied his glass immediately and passed it back. Brian refilled it and downed half of his own. Judging the time was right, he probed carefully. Do you need Caitlins permission to take the children for the summer?

  Sam, working on his third glass, grimaced and shrugged. I do now. She found out that I switched the stallions.

  Adrenalin surged through Brian, erasing all effects of the alcohol. Whiskey had loosened Sam Claibornes tongue. He would take advantage of it. A dangerous business, mate. What made you think you could get away with it?

  I had no choice.

  Why not?

  Before he died, my father trusted Caitlin with certain parts of the business. She cut Narragansets coverings to half. The agreements were contracted. I couldnt do anything about them.

  Brian had been in the breeding business for a long time. Limiting stud services was a common practice. It drove up the amount of the fee, the value of the resulting colt, and it prolonged the stallions stamina. His fees doubled, he reminded Sam. Obviously she knew what she was doing.

  We could have kept the number up and charged the same fee, Sam argued.

  What has that got to do with substituting another stallion for Narraganset?

  Caitlin expected one colt a year by Narraganset out of Kentucky Gold. We had a written agreement. The covering was scheduled months in advance. A tick throbbed in his cheek. I made some poor investments. Profits were low and someone made me an offer I couldnt refuse.

  Brian frowned. The bad investments he could understand but what kind of an offer would make a man risk everything his family had worked for?

  Sam Claiborne was a poor judge of horses and he couldnt hold his liquor. His hands shook uncontrollably and his glass was empty. He pushed it back across the table. How about a refill?

  Brian hesitated. I think youve had enough, mate. The roads are tricky at night.

  I dont need a babysitter, Hennessey, Sam snarled. One more drink isnt going to make a difference.

  Judging the level of Claibornes inebriation, Brian filled the glass halfway. Tell me about the offer you couldnt refuse.

  Sam emptied his glass. Brian didnt press him but he put the whiskey bottle away. Finally Sam spoke. Two days before Narraganset was scheduled to cover Caitlins mare, I was contacted by the agent of a wealthy breeder.

  American?

  No, he said shortly. He offered me a million dollars if I guaranteed him a Narraganset covering.

  Brian was incredulous. Surely Caitlin would have understood that.

  Sam shrugged. We werent getting along. We barely spoke to each other. I didnt ask her.

  I see. You substituted another stallion and hoped it would have a convenient birth defect before anyone found out.

  Hope had nothing to do with it. I was prepared to make sure no one found out. If Caitlin hadnt left when she did, I wouldnt be in this mess.

  Brian was disgusted. Claibornes morals were those of a spoiled teenager. He blamed everyone except himself for the dilemma he had created. Why come to me? he asked.

  Youre going to marry my wife. I want my children and I wont get them without your help.

  Caitlin is no longer your wife, Brian reminded him. The best way through this is to convince her that Annie and Ben will be better off visiting you. After the stunt you pulled, Im not sure thats possible.

  I would never do anything to hurt my children.

  You nearly killed your daughter.

  Sam gasped and paled. What are you talking about?

  Apparently Caitlin hadnt told him everything. Mentally, Brian cursed himself. It was too late to take it back now. Annie was in the barn when your man set fire to it.

  Who?

  Dont deny it, Claiborne. Tim Sheehan confessed to the police. Caitlin knows about your plan to do away with the colt. She wont forgive that one easily.

  Sam swallowed and wiped away the sweat above his upper lip. So help me God, Hennessey, I didnt know what he was going to do. I had no idea what happened until Brigid called me. I admit I wanted the colt gone. He wasnt good for running, not with the defective larynx in his bloodline. I thought that damn vet in Galway would have advised Caitlin to put him down. But I didnt want anyone else hurt. Id die for Annie and Ben. Caitlin knows that.

  Brians head reeled. He needed a moment to sort it out all out. How did you know the colt had RLN?

  His sire had it.

  Brian swore softly. You bastard. How could you do such a thing to your own wife?

  I told you, he said as if it justified everything, I needed the money.

  Shaking his head, Brian stood. I wouldnt help you even if I could. My guess is that youre sincere when it comes to wantin your children, but you cant be much of a human bein. Grow up a bit first. Clean up your drinkin and maybe Caitlin will change her mind.

  Sam Claiborne was defeated. Brian watched as he dragged himself through the door out to the gravel road where his car waited, dismissing the ugly thought that it might be best for everyone concerned if he perished somewhere along the Kilcullen Road.

  Six weeks had passed since hed seen her. Something was different. He couldnt put his finger on it but the change, subtle though it was, was definitely there. Brian stood outside the paddock and watched her work a black yearling from his jitters. Expertly, she played with the colts ears until he no longer shied away. Then she picked up his feet, over and over again. At fi
rst the colt kicked at her but after ten minutes or so he stopped fidgeting. Sliding her arms around his neck, she patted him, allowing him to carry her full weight. When he was comfortable with it, she pulled herself up over the saddle and laid down on his back. He took a few steps and she slid off. On, off, on, off, over and over, until the colt accepted her with no more distress than he would a fly.

  Brian drew a deep breath. Caitlin Claiborne was pretty. Hed forgotten how pretty. Her dark curls were pulled back in a clip. She wore a red highnecked jumper, tight-fitting beige trousers and expensive, broken-in riding boots. Anyone looking at her would guess her age to be ten years younger than it was.

  She glanced up, saw him, and for the briefest instant the smile on her face tore his heart out.

  Hello, he said softly.

  She hesitated. The joy was gone now. Her eyes had turned wary. Hello, she said cautiously.

  Do you have a minute?

  Give me ten. Ill finish with the colt and meet you in the house. Make a pot of tea or a drink for yourself, if you like.

  The tea was steeping by the time she came in from the barn. Brian poured two cups while she washed her hands and sat down across from him at the table. He came right to it. So, when is it?

  It?

  His lips twitched. The date.

  What date?

  Our weddin date.

  Oh, that. Her cheeks burned.

  Your ex-husband offered me his congratulations.

  I dont believe you.

  All right, Brian conceded. Congratulations might be stretchin it a bit.

  I didnt think hed bother to check up on me, she confessed.

  It wasnt the reason he came. He thought I might be an ally. He wants to see Annie and Ben more than you want him to.

  Brian watched the anger rise in her eyes. He isnt fit to see them, not after what he did.

  I wont argue with you on that one, but

  What?

  If you feel that way, why havent you turned him in?

  Caitlin sighed, picked up a spoon, and stirred her tea. I dont know, really. Because hes the father of my children, because of Lucy. Just because I havent pressed charges doesnt mean I want him around Annie and Ben.