Irish Meadows Read online

  Colleen groaned inwardly but schooled her features into the perfect smile as she turned to greet Jared. “Mr. Nolan. How good to see you.”

  As Jared bent over her offered hand, Colleen couldn’t help but compare him with Gil. Though attractive in an ordinary sort of way, Jared’s brown hair and pale complexion faded beside Gil’s black hair and brilliant blue gaze.

  Jared smiled. “I understand we’ve been invited to your house this coming Saturday.”

  “Why, yes,” she said brightly. “A welcome home for Gil.”

  Jared winked at her. “Any excuse to see you is fine by me.” He lowered his voice. “Maybe we can steal away for a private moment or two.”

  Colleen’s pulse skittered at the lurid look in his eyes. Perhaps Jared wasn’t as boring as she’d assumed. She placed a hand on his arm and tinkled out her favorite laugh, guaranteed to attract male attention. “I think that can be arranged.” Juggling Jared and Gil at one party—what a delicious evening to anticipate!

  “Can’t keep you away from my daughter, I see, Mr. Nolan.” Daddy’s voice boomed behind her.

  Jared jerked upright. “Mr. O’Leary.”

  Daddy’s laugh rang out, and he clapped a hand on Jared’s shoulder. “No need to be nervous, boy. I’m delighted to see you two together. Perhaps it’s time we had a private chat.” He winked at Jared, whose cheeks reddened.

  “Fine by me, sir.”

  “Good. We’ll see you on Saturday, then. Come along, Colleen.”

  “Coming, Daddy.” Colleen tried not to frown as she bid Jared farewell, wondering what her father meant by that cryptic comment. If it had anything to do with announcing a betrothal, she’d have to do her best to thwart that particular conversation.

  She was by no means ready to settle for one man just yet.

  4

  BRIANNA HAD NEVER been more eager to get home from school than on Monday afternoon—eager to see Gil and convince him to join her for a ride. It had been ages since she’d taken Sophie for a long trek over the back meadows, and with Gil for company, she couldn’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon.

  When she’d changed into a split skirt, she made her way to her father’s office on the main floor where she assumed Gil would be working. She wanted to speak to him today about championing her cause with Daddy. In light of Gil’s college experience, she hoped he could convince her father that many intelligent young women were choosing to pursue higher learning these days.

  When Brianna found the office empty, she continued outside to the paddocks. A childish squeal of delight drew her attention to the far corral, where Gil led Deirdre on Twizzle, one of the Shetland ponies her father had purchased for the younger children. Brianna walked up to the fence for a closer view, noting the protective way Gil kept his hand on Dee-Dee’s back. He would make such a good father one day. The thought brought a pang of longing with it. What would it be like to have Gil as the father of her children?

  She pushed the fantasy to the far corners of her mind. Marriage and children were many years off for her. Who knew where Gil would be by then?

  Off to the side, Joe, one of the trainers, worked with Connor astride Sadie, their gentlest mare. Her little brother grinned, bouncing with excitement. “Bree! Look, I’m riding Sadie.”

  She laughed. “Good for you, honey.”

  Deirdre twisted in her saddle to wave at Bree and almost slid off Twizzle’s back. Gil immediately steadied her.

  “Number one rule, young lady,” he said with mock sternness. “Never take your attention off your pony.”

  “Sorry, Gil.”

  Gil turned to smile at Brianna. “Can you give us a hand? I think this cowgirl is ready to trot.”

  “Of course.” Brianna quickly slipped through the fence rungs to join them, not at all sorry to postpone her outing with Sophie. Spending time with Gil was more important.

  Gil handed her the rope. “You take Twizzle, I’ll take Dee-Dee.”

  She grinned. “Hope you can keep up.”

  Brianna set off at a fast pace, and the pony picked up speed, its chubby legs pumping. By the time they’d gone around the enclosure twice, Brianna and the pony were trotting. Gil barely seemed to notice the quick pace, keeping a firm arm around her fearless sister, who whooped with delight.

  At last, Brianna slowed the pony to a walk, out of breath and laughing. “Good work, Dee-Dee. You’re a real cowgirl.” Some of Brianna’s hair had come loose from her pins and now blew freely around her face. She swiped at it with the back of her hand.

  “More, please.” Deirdre squirmed in the saddle.

  “I think we’ve had enough for today.” Gil smiled as he lifted her down. “Time to wash up for dinner.”

  “I’m going to wait for Connor by the fence.”

  “All right. I’ll take care of Twizzle.”

  Gil reached to take the rope from Brianna. His fingers skimmed hers, and her pulse skipped. “It was nice of you to do that for her,” she said. “You make Dee-Dee and Connor feel special when you spend time with them.”

  He smiled. “It’s no hardship. I enjoy their company.”

  Brianna wished her father felt the same. Connor, especially, hung on every word Daddy said, on every scrap of attention. Brianna knew exactly how he felt.

  Gil tipped up her chin. “Hey, why the sadness?”

  She shook her head. “I’m just glad the kids have you.”

  He gave her a long look. “You’ll always have me, too, Bree.”

  The huskiness of his voice sent goosebumps down her spine. He brushed some strands of hair from her cheek, his fingers lingering on her skin. Brianna’s heart froze in her chest at the intensity in his eyes. She dared not take a breath for fear of breaking the spell.

  “Are you going to kiss?” Deirdre’s giggle floated across the pasture.

  Brianna jerked away from his touch as though scalded, a tempest of emotion swirling through her. Gil ducked his head and bent to untangle the reins. Though the brim of his cap hid his expression, Brianna sensed he was as unsettled as she.

  In an effort to diffuse the situation, she walked briskly toward her siblings on the fence. “If I catch one of you monkeys, I’m going to tickle you until you can’t breathe.”

  Like a shot, the pair screeched and scrambled down from their perch.

  As Brianna let herself out of the gate, she peered over her shoulder and found Gil staring at her with a force that made her breath catch.

  If the kids hadn’t interrupted them, would Gil have let down his guard and actually kissed her? Brianna shivered, both relieved and disappointed she wouldn’t get to find out.

  Colleen sipped a second cup of coffee in the quiet of the dining room on Wednesday morning. This was her favorite time of day, when her siblings had left for school, her father had gone either to the city or out to the stables, and she and her mother planned their day. She tapped a fingernail on the delicate china as she contemplated what her mother might have scheduled for this morning, hoping it was anything other than sewing or knitting.

  Perhaps she could convince Mama to go into the city for some well-deserved shopping. After all, they both could use a new dress for Gil’s party on Saturday. A tiny thrill bloomed at the idea of an entire day with her mother all to herself—a rarity indeed. They could try on dresses, or look at new fabrics, maybe even have lunch at one of the restaurants on Fifth Avenue.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, Mama entered the room, clutching a piece of paper in her hand. “Good morning, Colleen. I’m glad I caught you. I need your help with something.”

  Colleen tried not to groan as her hopes for the day vanished. “Help with what?”

  Mama pulled out a chair at the table and smoothed her skirts under her. “I received a telegram from Beatrice’s son, Rylan. He’s arriving on the noon train, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to meet him. I’m committed to chairing the Ladies’ Auxiliary Meeting.”

  Colleen set down her cup with a clatter. “I’m sure Daddy or
Adam could go.”

  “Your father is meeting with a client in the city today, and Adam has gone with him to see about a job.”

  “What about Sam or one of the stable hands?” Colleen’s voice rose an octave, despite her attempt to keep her desperation from showing. What would she do with a priest all the way home from the train station?

  Mama reached for the coffee pot. “I’ve already asked, and the men are too busy. Besides, I want a family member there to give Cousin Rylan a proper O’Leary welcome.” She poured coffee into the cup before her.

  “Oh, Mama. You know I hate taking the carriage out. The horses don’t like me.” Her pout, which always worked with Daddy, got her nowhere with Mama.

  “I have absolute confidence in you, my darling. Sam is hitching up the horses for you, so they’ll be ready whenever you are.”

  Colleen sighed. “How will I know this Rylan?”

  “He’ll be the one in a clerical collar, of course.”

  An hour later, dressed in her serviceable blue cotton dress and straw hat, Colleen maneuvered the carriage down the main road into town. She turned her nose up at the rows and rows of trees that stretched for miles. Why Daddy had chosen this rural outpost for their home she’d never understand. At least the Hastings family kept only their summer home on the island, with their main estate situated in downtown Manhattan. Now there was a place Colleen would love to live. The excitement and energy of the city called to her like mermaids called men to the sea.

  Her future husband, she’d determined long ago, would be rich and powerful and love the city as much as she did. She smiled to herself as she thought of all the wonderful servants they would employ, especially a chauffeur so Colleen would never have to drive any kind of conveyance again. Although trying Daddy’s motorcar might be exhilarating . . .

  As though offended by her thoughts, the carriage lurched to one side and stopped fast. Her lack of attention had caused her to veer off the road and onto the soft shoulder. She whipped the reins harder, clucking to the horses. The animals strained in their harnesses, but the carriage only leaned farther to one side in a precarious angle that had Colleen sliding along the bench. She peeked over the side to find one of the back wheels bogged down in the soft dirt, made soggy from the overnight rain.

  “Oh, for the love of St. Patrick. Now I’ll be late to meet the train.”

  With an annoyed huff, she lifted her skirts and hopped down from the seat. As she performed an inspection, Colleen’s spirits sank. She doubted she’d be able to free the wheel from the deep suction of mud, even if she could manage to get the horses’ cooperation. She’d have to wait for someone to come by.

  Picking up her already dirt-encrusted hem, she made her way out onto the road. Surely some nice gentleman would come by and offer to assist a pretty damsel in distress. Maybe her future husband would come to her aid and fall madly in love with her. She giggled at the notion, content to lose herself in imaginary romantic encounters.

  But time dragged on without a single person passing by. Colleen’s feet now ached from standing for so long, and the idea of having to walk miles into town made her whimper. Would God listen if she prayed to Him for help after she’d ignored Him most of her life? At this point, she’d try anything.

  Lord, if it’s not too much trouble, please send someone to help me out of this predicament. As soon as possible.

  The thought of her mother’s extreme disappointment brought her close to tears. She’d counted on Colleen to do this one thing for her, and Colleen had let her down. Again.

  When her feet couldn’t take another minute of standing, she pulled a woolen blanket from the back of the tilted carriage and laid it on the ground. She removed her hat before she eased down to rest for a few moments. Maybe if a passerby saw her on the ground, he’d rush to her aid. She took off her shoes, closed her eyes, and sighed with pleasure at the relief to her poor feet. The midday sun warmed the top of her head, while a soft breeze floated over her, keeping her cool. She could almost imagine she was on a romantic tryst.

  “Excuse me, miss. Are you hurt at all?” A masculine voice with a decidedly Irish lilt awakened Colleen from an apparent doze.

  She shot to a sitting position, amazed and embarrassed to find a very handsome man staring at her, concern evident in the frown lines on his face. Eyes the color of rich chocolate gazed intently at her.

  She smoothed her fingers over the bun at the nape of her neck, making sure her stylish appearance was still intact. “No, I’m not hurt. My carriage is stuck, though.”

  The stranger held out a hand to help her to her feet. “Would you like me to take a look?”

  She flashed her most charming smile. “I’d be obliged. Thank you.”

  While he strode over to assess the problem, Colleen peered down the road to see what mode of transportation had brought him here. But she could see nothing, not even a horse. Then she noticed a suitcase and a discarded jacket by the side of the road.

  “It’s not good news, I’m afraid.” He came around the side of the carriage, wiping dirt from his hands. He wore a white linen shirt under a tweed vest and dark wool pants. He began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, a grin lifting the corner of his lips. “But if you’re game, we can give it a try.”

  She blinked. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  He moved a few steps closer. “Well, we wouldn’t want a lovely lady like yourself getting dirty, so I’ll do the hard part. If you’ll direct the horses, I’ll push from behind.”

  The wind blew some locks of dark hair from under his cap as he waited for her answer.

  Colleen’s heart began a rapid patter. “But you might get dirty.”

  He gave a full-bodied laugh, revealing even, white teeth. “A bit of mud never hurt anyone.”

  “Very well. I suppose it’s worth a try.”

  He followed her to the front of the carriage and held out a hand to assist her. She remembered then she was in her stockings. “Just a moment while I put on my shoes.” She ducked her face to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.

  What was wrong with her? She never blushed.

  Stumbling in her haste, she sat down heavily on the blanket and snatched up her shoes. She stuffed one foot in and then the other, not bothering with the laces.

  “Allow me.” Kneeling on the blanket, the man reached over to tie one of her shoes.

  Colleen swallowed her surprise and quickly tied the other herself. For a second time, he helped her up, this time holding her hand a moment longer than necessary.

  “And where are you off to this fine day?”

  Gazing into the brown depths of his eyes, Colleen couldn’t remember for the life of her where she was headed. “Into town,” she finally managed.

  “Let’s see if we can get you on your way, then.” He picked up the blanket, tossed it into the carriage, and helped her onto the tilted seat. “When I say ready, give the reins a good, hard slap and tell the horses to giddy-up.”

  Seconds later, he yelled, “Ready.”

  She whipped the reins and called out to the horses. They lurched forward, and the carriage rocked, but sank back into the same position.

  The man appeared at her side. “Let me talk to the horses before we give it another try.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Talk to the horses?”

  “Aye. If I ask them nicely, I’m sure we’ll do better next time.” He winked at her before jogging over to the beasts.

  Colleen watched in fascination as he spoke some foreign language to them while stroking each on the nose. Then he turned back, touched the brim of his cap in a mock salute, and returned to the back of the carriage.

  “Ready.”

  She repeated her actions, slapping the reins and calling out loudly to the horses. The wagon rocked and groaned, then suddenly jerked forward, up and onto the road. Relief spilled through her tense shoulders. She tugged the reins to stop the horses and turned to thank the stranger for his help.

  When she didn’t see h
im, she hopped down from the bench and rounded the back of the carriage. Dismay rushed through her at the sight of the poor man on his hands and knees, dripping in mud. The wheels had spewed filth all over him.

  “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry.” Without thinking, she rushed to help him, tugging on his arm. Too late she realized her shoes had become bogged in the mire. They squished in the brown sludge as she fought for footing. Before she could react, the man lost his balance and slid backward down the slight incline, pulling her with him into the soft mud.

  Colleen shrieked as wetness soaked her backside.

  So much for chivalry.

  Rylan fought the rise of laughter at the spectacle before him. The striking red-haired young woman sat sprawled in the mud, streaks of dirt dripping from her furious cheeks. He swiped ruefully at his own soaked attire. This was not the type of impression he’d hoped to make when he met the distant relatives who’d been kind enough to take him in. In fact, this whole day had not gone at all as planned.

  No one had arrived to greet him at the train station as promised, and he’d had to set out on foot—a fair distance indeed. Then he’d happened upon this young lady sleeping at the side of the road beside a drunken-tipped carriage, and he couldn’t very well leave her there without offering his assistance.

  He pulled himself to his feet, grimacing at his besmirched clothing. God must have an odd sense of humor. Once he regained his balance, he held out a hand to the lady.

  “No, thank you. I’ll manage on my own.” She glared at him as she tried to pull herself up, only succeeding in sliding farther into the mire.

  “Please, I feel terrible.” He bit his lip to keep from smiling at her comical attempts to rise.

  “You should feel terrible. This is all your fault.” She flailed her arms, flinging muck in all directions.

  He couldn’t keep the laughter in as he trudged closer.

  Her eyes blazed blue thunder. “You, sir, had better not be laughing at me.”

  “I’m laughing at this whole daft situation.” Despite her protests, he put a hand under her elbow and lifted her out of the dirt. “I never expected to spend the afternoon wallowing in a mud pit with a beautiful woman.”