Irish Meadows

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Irish Meadows Page 9

by Susan Anne Mason


  He stared at her as if she had grown two heads. “What on God’s green earth do you mean by that?”

  “Never mind.” Brianna let her eyes drift closed, hoping he’d leave her alone with her bruises, both internal and external. She would not cry in front of him.

  “I’ll never understand females if I live to be a hundred.” Heavy footsteps crossed the room, and the loud bang of the door told her he’d left.

  The breath she’d been holding whooshed out of her lungs, followed by a gush of tears that burned beneath her closed lids.

  Her father would never change. Why did she always hope he might? That one day he’d smile at her, call her his darlin’, say he was proud of her . . . A harsh sob escaped as she buried her face in the pillow.

  Please, God, take away this constant hurt and disappointment. Let me be content with Your love and need nothing else. Grant me Your peace and remove this pain.

  Before I do something else I’ll regret.

  10

  GIL LEANED AGAINST THE WALL in the upstairs hallway, his stomach aching with dismay. James had rushed out of Brianna’s room so fast, he hadn’t even noticed Gil standing beside the door.

  As much as he respected James, Gil didn’t understand his attitude toward his second daughter. Over the years, Gil had seen the toll James’s constant criticism and dismissive manner had taken on Bree’s confidence. Gil had hoped as she got older, things would change. But it looked like their relationship had only gotten worse.

  Gut-wrenching sobs drifted out into the hallway despite the closed door. Gil splayed his fingers over the wooden surface and let his forehead drop against it. If he went in there now, he’d be hard-pressed to control his emotions. He never could stand to see Brianna in pain, be it emotional or physical.

  With a loud exhale of air, he straightened. No, he’d best keep his distance. Let her calm down before he attempted to talk to her. In the meantime, he’d try to smooth things over another way.

  He found James in the barn, hovering over Major’s stall door while Sam did a thorough examination of the injured hoof. Though not a veterinarian, Sam’s knowledge and skill with the animals rivaled that of Dr. Phelps. Many a time, they’d relied on Sam when Dr. Phelps was unavailable.

  Gil stood beside James and peered into the stall. “How is he?”

  A muscle in James’s jaw ticked. “Sam says the ride gave his injury a bit of a setback but no permanent damage. Thank heaven.”

  Gil waited in silence until Mr. O’Leary seemed ready to leave. “Could we talk outside for a minute?”

  James pushed away from the stall. “What about?”

  “I’d rather not get into it here.”

  Together they exited the rear door and, as if by mutual consent, headed toward the white fence surrounding the track. Gil leaned a booted foot on the bottom rung and hung his clasped hands over the top.

  James took his pipe from a pocket inside his tweed jacket and held it to his lips. “What’s on your mind, boy?”

  “It’s Brianna, sir.”

  An immediate scowl appeared on James’s leathery face. “I don’t understand that girl. Should’ve tanned her hide more when she was young. Kathleen never did let me discipline the children the way I wanted.”

  Gil took a slow breath before speaking. “I think Brianna feels you ignore her, that you favor Colleen over her.” He glanced sideways to gauge Mr. O’s reaction.

  James’s eyebrows shot together. “Where would she get such a notion?”

  Irritation throbbed in Gil’s veins. How could the man be so blind? “Maybe from the way you dismiss her opinions and interrupt her when she’s trying to tell you something. Or the way you praise everything Colleen does, but you barely notice Bree.” Gil forced a halt to his tirade and worked to contain his emotions.

  James slowly removed the pipe from between his teeth. “Is that how she sees it?”

  “I only know how it appears from my observations.”

  James slumped against the fence, as though the air had left his lungs. “Colleen has never given me a moment’s worry, but Brianna . . .” He shook his head. “I never knew what to make of her tomboy ways. She spent all her time with her nose in a book. Or with you and those horses. Didn’t seem natural for a girl.”

  Gil fought to hide his irritation. “Well, as you can see, she’s grown up just fine.”

  “Except for this fool notion of going to college. What does she need with an education? It won’t help her land a husband.”

  So Bree had told her father about wanting to go to school. Sounded like his reaction wasn’t what she’d hoped. Could that be the reason behind her wild ride yesterday? “Maybe Brianna wants more out of life than to just be someone’s wife.”

  “Not you, too.” James threw him an annoyed glance. “You’ve always been her defender, haven’t you? Lord knows you’re a better brother to her than Adam ever was.”

  Gil jerked as though the word had hit him square between the eyes. “Brother” did not describe what Gil felt for Brianna. If he’d had any doubts about the matter, seeing Bree’s body crumpled on the ground, not knowing if she were dead or alive, had chased away any notion of sibling affection. As complicated and unwelcome as they were, Gil’s feelings for Brianna were what a man felt for the woman he wanted to someday marry. He stiffened his spine. “What harm would there be in letting Bree go to college for a year or two?”

  “Wasted money and, more importantly, wasted opportunity. Henry Sullivan has asked for her hand. I don’t think he’ll wait around while Brianna dabbles in academics.”

  So it was official. Henry and Brianna would be betrothed in the near future. Gil gripped the fencepost until his knuckles ached. “Bree’s not even eighteen yet. Colleen’s a year older, and you’re not pushing her to marry.” The defiance in Gil’s tone hung between them.

  James bristled like an angry rooster. “Colleen is a highly sought after young woman. I’m biding my time, waiting for the right man for her.”

  “You mean the right offer.”

  James puffed out his chest. “What’s wrong with that? A beautiful daughter is one of a man’s greatest assets.”

  Bile churned in Gil’s stomach at the way James used his children as pawns instead of cherishing each one as a blessing. And wasn’t that what he was doing with Gil, as well? Using him to better his finances by courting the banker’s daughter? Disillusionment settled over Gil’s shoulders like a yoke. If James pushed Bree too hard, he’d lose her altogether.

  Gil’s shoulders sagged farther as another reality hit home.

  James wasn’t the only one losing her. Once Brianna became Henry’s wife, Gil’s relationship with her would never be the same.

  Two days after her accident, armed with her Bible and a book from her father’s library, Brianna reveled in the sunshine pouring in through the parlor windows at her back, bathing her aching body with welcome heat. Escaping into her story world, she hoped to avoid thinking or talking about the problems that plagued her—her father’s refusal to let her attend college, Henry’s unwanted courtship, her confused feelings for Gil . . .

  Voices in the hallway startled her from her reading. Her shoulder muscles tensed as she waited to see who would enter. She half-hoped, half-dreaded to see Gil again, knowing he would try to discern the reason behind her reckless ride. She could admit to the fight with her father, but she could never tell him the other reason she was so upset that morning.

  The parlor door opened. Mrs. Johnston entered and gave a slight bow. “Mr. Sullivan to see you, Miss Brianna. Are you accepting visitors?”

  Brianna nodded. “It’s all right. You can let him in.”

  Henry handed his hat to the housekeeper and rushed into the room. His blond hair swept neatly off his forehead as he bowed over her hand. “Brianna, my dear. I was distressed to hear of your accident. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better, thank you. Though still a little sore.” She gestured to a chair. “Please sit down. Can we get you any ref
reshments?”

  “No, thank you.” He took a seat beside her on the settee instead. “What exactly happened? All I heard is that a horse threw you.”

  She kept her demeanor calm. “I was riding in the pasture, and a hare spooked my mount. It all happened so fast.”

  “That’s terrible. How did you get back?”

  She dropped her gaze to the book on her lap. “Gil found me and brought me back.” She didn’t need to see Henry’s face to picture his displeasure.

  “Of course. Good ol’ Gil to the rescue.”

  Brianna bristled at his sarcasm. She’d never understood Henry’s dislike of Gil, except that perhaps he was jealous of their friendship. “Henry, you must try to put aside your animosity toward Gil. He’s part of my family, and I . . . we . . . are all very fond of him.”

  The hardness left Henry’s features. “You’re right. I suppose I owe him a debt of gratitude for taking such good care of you. Now that we’re practically engaged, though, that job should be mine.” He reached out to take her hand in his.

  Brianna stiffened in her seat, not ready for such an open declaration of his intentions. Would he feel free to take liberties with her now? Steal kisses when they were alone? The thought sent a flood of panic through her body. The only kisses she wanted were Gil’s.

  With the pretense of moving her book, she slipped her hand free. “Thank you for dropping by, but I fear I tire easily.”

  “Of course. I’ll come back when you’re feeling stronger.” He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, then rose, gazing at her with a curious expression before letting himself out of the parlor.

  The air whooshed from her lungs the moment the door clicked shut. “Thank goodness.” She leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes.

  “Is that any way to treat your intended?”

  “Gil.” Brianna jerked upright, and a moan escaped her lips at the pain that shot through every muscle with that sudden movement.

  A soft breeze blew in from the open French doors. Gil stood inside looking down at her. Irritation settled over her at his smug expression.

  “What are you doing? Spying on me now?” She snapped her book closed and shoved it aside.

  “I had the same intention as Henry. To see how you’re feeling.”

  “As you can see, I’m fine.” She brushed the material of her gown with unsteady fingers.

  Gil crossed to the settee and knelt in front of her. His amused expression changed to one of concern as he took her hand in his. “You don’t know how many years you took off my life with that stunt.”

  She made the mistake of staring into the blue intensity of his eyes. A pulse beat wildly in her neck. “I . . . I never got to thank you for bringing me home.”

  “You can thank me by telling me what really happened. What made you take Major out on that crazy ride?”

  Heat infused her cheeks, making her wish for a fan. She lifted her chin. “Like I told Daddy, I wanted some excitement.”

  Gil tightened his grip on her hand. “Nice try. But I saw you before you left. You weren’t looking for a thrill. You were angry, and I want to know what upset you so much that you would risk your safety, as well as the welfare of that animal.”

  Her bottom lip quivered as the guilt she’d pushed back for two days rose to the surface. Not only had she risked her own life, she’d endangered poor Major, who was already dealing with an injury. If he’d hurt his leg any worse . . . well, she couldn’t begin to think of what might have happened.

  “Bree?”

  She dragged her attention away from his hypnotic gaze and gulped in a breath. “I had a fight with Daddy after the party on Saturday. He said he’d given Henry his blessing on our courtship. I told him I didn’t want to get married, that I wanted to go to college.”

  Gil moved up beside her on the sofa. “I imagine he didn’t take that news too well.”

  “No.”

  Gil sat with his hands clasped over his knees. When he glanced over at her, a confused frown creased his brow. “But why were you still so angry the next morning? Did something else happen?”

  Her heart banged against her ribcage, and she turned her face away. He knew her too well.

  “Brianna, look at me. What else happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You always were a terrible liar. Was it Colleen?”

  “No.”

  He reached out to grasp her chin between his fingers. “I want to know what upset you.”

  She wrenched away and pushed up from the settee. The pain shooting through her stiffened muscles nudged a moan from her and she stumbled, catching herself before she fell.

  Instantly Gil was at her side. When he wrapped strong arms around her, she wanted nothing more than to lean into his warmth for even a moment.

  “Tell me.” His breath stirred the tendrils of hair around her face.

  She pushed away from him and limped to the fireplace, knowing he’d never stop badgering her until she gave in. “Fine. I’ll tell you the ugly truth. I overheard my father informing Sam we had nothing to worry about now that you were going to marry Aurora Hastings. We’d be guaranteed unlimited bank loans since we’d be part of the Hastings family soon.” Helpless anger washed over her. She leaned against the mantel, willing him to leave before she further humiliated herself.

  She sensed Gil approaching behind her. “I’m not going to marry Aurora.” His quiet voice sent shivers along her spine. “I only said I’d consider courting her until your father acquires his loan.”

  She whirled around so fast, he stepped backward in surprise. “You think it’s acceptable to trifle with a girl’s affection in order to gain financial favor with her father? How would you feel if someone treated me like that?”

  A flush crept up his neck, giving her a brief jolt of satisfaction.

  “I thought you were an honorable man, Gil. But it appears even you are willing to forgo your principles to win my father’s approval.”

  “That’s not fair.” An angry scowl slashed his forehead. “After everything your father has done for me, how can I deny him the one thing he asks of me?”

  She crossed her arms. “Easy. Just say no.”

  He stepped closer, his outrage swirling in the air between them. “If it’s so easy, why don’t you tell your father no? Refuse Henry’s suit.”

  Her self-righteous anger faded, leaving her limp. The idea of defying her father in such a manner made her break out in a cold sweat.

  “Not so easy after all, is it, Brianna?”

  Before she could think of a suitable reply, Gil strode out through the open French doors, leaving her more unsettled than ever.

  11

  SLEEP ELUDED GIL once again. It seemed insomnia had become a way of life since he’d moved back to Irish Meadows. In the stuffy heat of his third-floor bedroom, Gil felt the walls closing in on him, suffocating the air in his lungs. He flung off the bedclothes, pulled on his trousers, shirt, and boots, and let himself into the hall. He’d go for a walk in the cool evening air and check on Georgina. Today the mare had seemed restless in her stall, often a sign of impending labor. Something told Gil tonight might be her time.

  He crept down the back staircase and out the side door. The immediate blast of cool air relaxed the tense muscles in his shoulders. He breathed deeply, enjoying the scent of newly blossoming lilacs. In the light of the almost-full moon, Gil ambled along the path beside the racetrack, relishing the stillness of the night as he made his way to the stables.

  Inside, the corridor was dark until he turned the first corner and noticed a dim light in the distance. Right about the location of Georgina’s stall.

  He quickened his steps. A lantern swung from a hook above the mare’s enclosure. Gil’s heart rate jumped at the sound of Brianna’s soft voice crooning to the animal. Steeling himself to see her again for the first time since their fight, Gil peered over the stall door.

  Seated in the straw, the mare’s head in her lap, Brianna looked up when his shadow c
rossed her. “Georgina’s in labor.” Her anxious eyes shone with concern.

  Gil opened the door and entered the stall. He moved past Brianna’s skirts, which spread out over the straw, and knelt beside Georgina. Swiftly, he ran his hands over her distended abdomen and nodded as a contraction rippled under his palm.

  “How often are the pains coming?”

  “About every five minutes.” Brianna continued to stroke the horse’s head. Wisps of hair escaped her braid and curved onto her cheek. “Should we call Dr. Phelps?”

  “There’s no need to disturb him at this hour unless it’s an emergency.” He sat back on his haunches as the mare relaxed. “Are things progressing normally?”

  “I think so.”

  Gil rose and plucked a piece of straw from his pants. “What are you doing out here at this hour, anyway?”

  She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. And since Daddy’s banished me from the stables, this is the only time I can come without getting caught.”

  Gil chuckled. “I should have known you couldn’t stay away.” He leaned a shoulder against the wooden wall. “Could be a long night. You sure you’re up for it?”

  She flashed him an indignant glare. “Aren’t I always?”

  “Yes, you are.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  Her expression softened. “Do you remember the night Georgina was born? How we stayed up all night to help Sam deliver her?”

  “Of course I remember. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.” The memories of that night came flooding back, making him suddenly aware of the intimate space and the lantern shedding a romantic glow over them. He pushed away from the wall and cleared his throat. “I’d better go wake Sam. We might need him if things don’t go as planned.”

  She lowered her eyes, but not before he caught a flash of disappointment. It would have been nice to share the experience alone, but Gil didn’t trust himself. After Georgina’s birth, Brianna had thrown herself into his arms in an exuberant hug of celebration. It was the first time his feelings had shifted to something other than friendship, the first time he’d had to fight not to kiss her. A situation he did not intend to repeat.

 

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