by JoAnn Ross
“They don’t look real happy to be here,” Zoe murmured as she stood beside Alec, watching the men unload their Thoroughbreds from the trailers.
Overhead, a flock of glossy black choughs with vivid scarlet bills soared off the edge of the towering cliff, riding the thermals, seeming to play in the air with consummate ease, their cheerful cries belying the serious intent of the humans on the sands below.
“Whether they’re happy or not isn’t important. I’m just grateful Kate managed to talk them into showing up.”
“It’s hard to say no to her.”
“Yeah. I’m discovering that for myself.” He put his arm casually around her shoulder and decided they were definitely making progress when she didn’t pull away. She seemed oddly different this morning. More approachable. More at peace.
They stood in comfortable silence, as wading birds scurried busily at the receding wavelets. The tiny stints seemed oblivious to the action around them as they single-mindedly snatched breakfast from the sparkling sea foam.
“I like Kate,” Zoe volunteered. “A lot.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“Duh.” She flashed him a grin.
“Is it that obvious?”
“I watch you watching her. When you think no one’s looking.” Her eyes, lacking much of that heavy makeup this morning, were wise, fond, and gently teasing, reminding him of the best of her mother.
“She’s nice to look at.”
“She’s beautiful.”
A gray heron stalked on spindly stilt legs through the ebbing tide, its gimlet gaze focused intently on the foam as it patiently waited for an unwary mackerel to swim within reach of its stabbing beak.
“So,” Zoe said after another brief silence, “if you married Kate, do you think you’d stay here in Ireland?”
The insecure child was back. Alec could hear the hunger in her voice, and even understanding how desperate she was for what he suspected she considered a real home, with a mom, dad, and two-point-five kids, he loved her too much to lie.
“That’s probably a moot point. Since she’s already married.”
“She’s getting a divorce.”
“These things take longer in Ireland than they do in America.”
She thought about that for a long moment. “Maybe sometimes that’s a good thing.”
Alec suspected she was wondering if her mother hadn’t been able to get that quickie Dominican Republic divorce, if they’d still be together. They wouldn’t have been. But how to explain that to a teenage girl who couldn’t yet even understand her own heart?
“You can’t dwell on the past, sweetheart.” He squeezed her shoulder and dropped a kiss atop her hair, which, while still fluorescent red, was softer this morning, revealing its natural curl rather than the punk spikes he’d reluctantly come to tolerate. “All that gets you is a stomach twisted up in knots. And worse yet, it keeps you from moving forward.”
“I know.” She sighed. “But I still wish …” Her voice drifted off. “I didn’t know Kate was going to ride Legends Lake.”
“She isn’t,” he ground out as he followed her gaze to where Kate had just climbed onto the colt’s back. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Why was it that whenever he seemed to be making headway with one of the troublesome females in his life, another decided to take up the slack? What did they do? he asked himself as he marched across the sand to where Kate was seated high atop Winnie’s glitchy horse. Have secret meetings beneath the full moon and decide whose turn it was to drive him nuts?
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Legends Lake sidestepped nervously at the harshness of his voice as he grasped the bridle.
“I’d say that should be obvious.” She leaned down and patted the distressed Thoroughbred’s neck. “I’d also be asking that you not upset the horse while I’m sitting on him.”
“That’s the point. You don’t belong up there.” Way up there. Christ, he’d known the horse was tall. But looking up at her now, Alec’s blood ran cold at the idea of exactly how far Kate would fall if Legends Lake took it into his head to explode. “You’re not a jockey.”
“Perhaps not. But I began riding before I could walk. I can certainly handle a little morning breezing.”
“Excuse me, but I seem to recall that you were the one to come up with a cockamamie plan to make the horse take off.”
“I did. And you didn’t call it a cockamamie plan last night.”
“Last night I was distracted and forgot about your suicidal tendencies.”
“I’m not suicidal. Don’t you see?” She was still stroking the now quiet horse’s neck who, if he’d been a cat, would have been purring. “If we’re to trigger instinctive fears, it’s only right that I be the one to be riding him. So I can assure him that he’ll be safe.”
“What about your safety?”
Her eyes softened. Her lips, which he’d continued to taste long after they’d each gone to their separate beds, curved. “Would you be worried about me, MacKenna?”
“Of course I am.” As he’d be worried about anyone under similar circumstances, Alec lied to himself, reluctantly acknowledging that he hadn’t been this concerned when he thought a seasoned jockey would be putting Legends Lake through the upcoming test.
“Don’t worry.” She sat up straight in the saddle. Clicked the colt forward. “I know what I’m doing.”
How could any woman who looked like a faerie and smelled like heaven be so damn intransigent? As he walked back to where Zoe and Kate’s children were watching and waiting, Alec remembered what Brian the bulldozer operator had said about her husband and understood, for just one fleeting second, how Kate O’Sullivan could prove frustrating. But brute force was never the answer. Not with horses, troubled teenage girls, or stubborn Irish witches.
“You’re going to let her ride?” Zoe asked.
“I’m beginning to realize that no one lets Kate O’Sullivan do anything.”
Kate and the others were lining the horses up at a place designated on the hard packed sand near the water’s edge. Alec hadn’t realized how narrow this strand of beach was. If Legends Lake decided to take off in the direction of the towering rocky cliff …
Hell. As nerves tangled in his gut, he considered his chances of tying Kate to the four posters of her antique bed to prevent her from getting into yet more dangerous trouble.
20
KATE WATCHED THE EXCHANGE between father and daughter—she would not consider Alec Zoe’s stepfather, wasn’t paternity more a matter of love than blood?—and smiled. She, more than most, knew the magic that was Ireland, and hadn’t it woven its charmed spell on those two?
Alec at times seemed like an entirely different person from the cynical, taciturn man she’d met on the cliff. Oh, he was still ambitious—and surely there’d be no sin in that—but she’d also discovered he could be warm and caring. He still drove her to distraction, but in a way that wasn’t altogether unwelcome.
Legends Lake snorted, reminding her that they hadn’t come here this morning so she could moon over the Yank like some foolish young girl.
“All right, darling.” After lining up with the others, she bent low over his head and stroked his neck in the way he liked to be touched. “Shall we be showing them what a champion is made of?”
Alec lifted his arm and shot the starter pistol into the air. When the crack sounded over the soft sighs of the surf, she pressed her heels into Legends Lake’s sides. The colt took off like a bullet, streaking down the beach, long legs stretching, hooves drumming. Wading birds, usually oblivious to anything but their constant search for food, scattered. Laughing, Kate bent lower over the racehorse’s neck.
“That’s a grand lad,” she urged him on. “You’re the king of all Ireland today, darling.”
Even if he hadn’t been concerned about Kate’s safety, Alec wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off her. Since she’d grown up with horses, he wasn’t surprised she rode so well. Bu
t he hadn’t expected such a forceful ride. Or such a joyous one. She was laughing as she and Legends Lake, two free spirits, sped across the line that had literally been drawn in the sand.
He took hold of the bridle. “You continue to surprise me, Mrs. O’Sullivan.”
Her laughter was warm and low and breathless. “As you do me, Mr. MacKenna. We’ll have to race, you and I. Just the two of us, here on the beach.”
“Sounds like a plan. Got anything in mind for the stakes?”
“Oh, won’t we be thinking of those later.” She glanced around as one of the men called out to her, asking if she intended to try the next stage of the experiment. “I’d best be getting back before the lads escape.” She made a clicking sound and was turning the Thoroughbred back into the direction they’d raced down the sand, when Alec touched a hand to her leg.
“I may not be able to read the future, but I know which of us is going to win.”
“Oh?” She arched a challenging dark brow. The wind was tangling her hair into an ebony riot. “And who would you be thinking that might be?”
He squeezed her calf, resisting the urge to pull her off that horse and roll around in the surf with her until she was limp and soaked and throughly satisfied. “Both of us.”
Her eyes darkened from a sparkling lake blue to the color of midnight. He’d been expecting her to blush, but instead she surprised him with a slow, potent siren’s smile that caused the breath to back up in his lungs.
The next race went as well; Legends Lake streaked down the sparkling gold sand, lengths ahead of the others, seemingly unaware that behind him, the young female jockey astride Kevin Murphy’s Claddagh’s Prize had applied a light touch of the whip to her mount’s backside.
“We’ll try it again,” Kate announced. “This time, Eithne,” she said to the jockey, “I’ll hold him back, so you can be nearer when you use the crop.”
“Hold him back?” Murphy challenged. “Would you be suggesting that Claddagh’s Prize isn’t a proper match for your horse, Kate?”
“Not at all, Kevin,” she soothed quickly. Expertly. “It’s just that since this is an experiment, it’s best to control as many factors as we can.”
He grumbled, but didn’t argue.
They were off again. Midway down the beach, Claddagh’s Prize caught up with Legends Lake, who was obviously straining for more speed even as Kate tightened the reins. Thundering hooves threw up sand as they streaked neck and neck toward the finish line. And then, as he’d done before, Legends Lake suddenly cut to the left and went plowing into the surf, Kate leaning so low it took no imagination at all to envision her flying over the colt’s head.
Later, Alec would realize that the entire event only lasted seconds, yet his feet seemed to have been mired in quicksand as he ran after them. He was up to his thighs in the icy water when he managed to grab hold of the reins.
“I knew this was a goddamn stupid idea!” He pulled her from the horse, hauling her against his chest. “That’s enough. There’s no race under the sun worth this.”
Kate’s head was spinning. Even having expected Legends Lake to bolt when Eithne had pulled out the crop, she’d been more than a little afraid when he’d gone crashing into the sea. But he’d listened to her. Even through his obvious terror, he’d listened to her. With not only his ears and mind, but with his heart.
“Would you be putting me down, Alec MacKenna.” She pushed against his shoulder. “You’d be crushing my bones.”
“You’re lucky they’re not all broken.” Instead of releasing her, he held her tighter still, so she wasn’t sure which wild heartbeat she was feeling. Her own or his. “That’s it, Kate. I’m taking the horse back to Winnie and telling her that she wasted her money.”
“Now wouldn’t that be a shame,” Kate insisted, finally managing to free herself from his tight embrace. She placed her hands on her hips, tilted her head back and met his frustrated glare straight on without so much as a flinch. “Since he has such grand potential.”
“He’s flat-out nuts.”
“No. He’s still a wild animal who spooks a bit too easily. But take a good look at your horse, Alec.”
Her calm words managed to make themselves heard over the static buzz of lingering panic in his head. Following her gaze, he saw the Thoroughbred watching them as if they were putting on a show for his entertainment. “He’s not trembling.”
“No. He’s not.” She held out a hand. The colt hesitated, then walked forward, lowered his head, and nuzzled her palm. “See what a darling boy he is?”
She’d charmed him. That was the only answer Alec could come up with. Despite her continued claims that she did not do spells, it was obvious that she’d pulled off some druid hocus-pocus.
“We can work with him, Alec.” She put her free hand on his arm. “It’s not his fault that he’s the way he is. Nature has made him a flight animal; the single element in his life is to survive by escaping everything that frightens him. Until a horse is taught otherwise, everything frightens him.
“Legends Lake isn’t bad, only confused. Because of unfortunate timing, the poor horse believes that whenever he smells or sees, or even hears the crop anywhere near him, he’s caught in a life and death situation again, as he was that day at the track. What else should he do, but run? He’s tangled up the sound and smell and sight of the crop with the fire in his cellular memory. All we have to do is prove to him that he has nothing to fear from it.”
“Pete was training a yearling in Louisiana when I was still a hot walker,” Alec mused out loud. “Great configuration, dynamite bloodlines, and the horse could run like the wind. But for some reason we never did figure out, he was scared to death of just about everything.”
“What happened to him?”
“He ended up winning about four million dollars over his career, but it wasn’t easy. Pete started out getting him used to the blanket by hanging it on the stall door until he became accustomed to the sight and smell of it and figured out it wouldn’t hurt him. He went through the same procedure with every bit of tack. Then there was the starting gate. And the track loudspeaker. It took two years before he started earning any money. But it sure turned out to be worth it.”
“For the horse as well as his owner,” Kate pointed out. “We can do the same thing with Legends Lake.”
“We don’t have that much time.” He said the words that had been echoing over and over again in his mind like a mantra.
“Then isn’t it fortunate that the only thing he fears is one small leather whip?”
“I think you ought to do it,” a new voice entered into the argument. Alec turned around and noticed that Zoe had waded out into the water, as well. “Everyone needs a chance to straighten out their lives.” She reached up and combed her fingers—which today were tipped with glossy turquoise polish—through the silky mane. “Even a horse.”
Alec wondered if she was comparing Legends Lake’s problems to her own. Then decided it didn’t really matter because the Thoroughbred was the first thing she’d shown any real interest in since coming to live with him.
“That still isn’t much time to prepare a horse for a race like the Derby.”
“It’s not a great deal of time, to be sure. But how prepared do you think the horse will be for your Kentucky Derby if you don’t at least try to rid him of his fear?”
“Good point.”
It was the lilt in her voice that did it. More than the reason, with which he couldn’t argue. Alec still had no idea whether Legends Lake could be cured. But watching Kate’s lips curve into that soft, pleased smile, he decided that before he returned to Kentucky, he and the witch of Castlelough would be lovers.
It hadn’t been easy, convincing Alec that since she was the one the Thoroughbred trusted most, it was only logical that she be the one on Legends Lake’s back. Kate had known, without looking into the MacKenna’s mind, that the best way to win with the man was by appealing to logic. American he might be by circumstance of birth, b
ut his blood was of the Highlands, and the Scots were, after all, in their own often inexplicable way, a canny and practical race.
During the last years, she’d become so wrapped up in the logistics of the day-to-day running of the farm and keeping up her proper mating notes, always looking for the perfect match that would result in that champion every breeder dreamed of, she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed the glorious freedom found in racing the wind.
She’d have to keep it up after Alec took Legends Lake back to America, she thought as she lay in bed five nights after running those races on the beach, listening to the tap tap tap of the rain on the roof. Riding cleared her mind of the little cobwebs of concern that would begin to gather whenever she thought about Cadel, which was much more often since Alec had come to Castlelough. Try as she might, it was impossible not to compare the two men.
“There’s no comparison,” she murmured as she rolled over and tried to pound her pillow into a more acceptable shape. Her nerves were on edge tonight. There was something in the air. The premonition was not of anything bad or harmful. Not at all like all those nights spent awaiting Cadel’s drunken return from the pub. No, this was more … expectation, she decided.
Still, she went to check on her children, beginning in the attic, in the room that Jamie had been so excited to claim when he’d heard the Americans were coming to stay at the house. It was a small room, but she’d made it cozy, with fresh paint and new curtains on the dormer windows that brought in light and offered a lovely view of the lake and castle.
He was sleeping peacefully, the X-Men action figures Quinn and Nora had brought back from a recent trip to California scattered over the quilt. She gathered them up and put them in the sally—willow—basket on top of the chest to keep them from accidentally getting caught up in the sheets and possibly damaging the washing machine. His notebook, which he was never without, was on the bedside table, pencil and flashlight lying beside it in the unlikely event he’d need to take notes during the night.
He was such a precious child. Such a special gift. He may have complicated her life a bit, but no more than she had made his more difficult by turning her back on the easier solution of adopting her infant son out to some loving family in America—and keeping him for herself. It had been, admittedly, a selfish decision on her part, compounded by a foolish, hasty marriage to a man she knew didn’t love her. A man she knew she could never love.