by Marsha Doss
One hour later, Sonny was bent over a pitch fork, tossing hay into one of the empty stalls. Beads of sweat lay on her forehead and she kept pushing loose strands of hair away from her face. She felt the ache in her lower back and stopped for a moment to straighten up.
"Ready to quit?" Michael's deep voice came from behind her and when she turned around, she saw him leaning against the stall door, one leg crossed over the other and a smirk on his face.
"Never," she answered as she continued to work.
Sonny quickly touched her forehead with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, hoping he had not seen. He could stand there all day if he wanted, but she would not quit.
After the last stall had been cleaned, she carried the rake and pitch fork back to the empty end stall where barn tools and extra bedding were stored.
Michael had followed and was standing right behind her. If she turned around, she would be practically in his arms, and if she kept her back to him, he would eventually force her to leave anyway. Sonny pulled her shoulders back and then whipped around abruptly, almost smashing into Michael's broad chest.
"Do you enjoy watching other people work?" she asked.
"I enjoy watching you."
"Then do you mind moving, so I can finish?"
Michael leaned one hand against the wall over her head, entrapping her within his reach. He touched the side of her cheek with his fingertip, tracing the line of her jaw up into her eyebrows and then back down again to her mouth.
"Do you really want me to move, Sonny?" he asked softly.
She tried to look straight ahead, afraid to let her eyes meet his, but it was impossible. Michael tilted her chin up with his thumb, holding her gently as his eyes took quick inventory of every line of her
face.
"Michael, I don't have time for games. There's work to be done."
"So there is." Michael dropped his arm back to his side, and allowed Sonny to pass.
He moved forward, just as she passed and Sonny's leg brushed against his hard thigh. That moment of contact sent currents of electric shock through her and she tried to quicken her steps. But, Michael's arm was around her shoulders, filling her with an immediate need to escape to safer ground. Anywhere would do as long as Michael O'Brien could not work his charismatic influence over her usual sound reason ing.
"Wait, partner," he said softly. "I'll show you how we groom the horses.
"Billy can teach me."
"Not as well as I can." The twinkle was back in his dark eyes.
Grooming the horses was more difficult than Sonny had bargained for, but she was determined to hide the fatigue she felt. If Michael thought he was winning the first round, he would soon learn differently.
Billy joined them, handing Sonny the proper
brushes, showing her how to move with circular motions over the animal's coat. She watched as he worked expertly and quickly. When she began, her arms grew tired. By the time she had finished the black horse, she was ready to rest.
Michael had other plans.
"You've got the hang of it now," he said. "I want you to see Graceful Lady."
"Who is Graceful Lady?"
"She's our broodmare. Your father invested a lot into her foal."
"Another Pinebrook winner?" Sonny asked.
"Should be. The sire was Thunderbolt, winner of the Triple Crown."
"And that's going to make this foal a champion, Michael?"
Michael placed his arm around Sonny's shoulder. "Let me tell you how it works. By the charts, it appears that this could be the one your father waited for most of his life. He wanted that Triple Crown in the worst way."
"So, he picked the father and that makes us the proud owners of a good runner. Right?"
Michael smiled at Sonny's lack of knowledge.
He had been raised around the Thoroughbreds, so all of
this was just matter-of-fact to him. He could see from the expression in Sonny's blue eyes that he had caught her interest.
"Wrong. The charts can only tell what might happen. There are no guarantees. We just make the calculations and wait."
"You make it sound so scientific…charts, calculations and all that." When Sonny saw Michael's eyes watching her approvingly she was suddenly aware that her hair must be a mess and her make-up ruined. If Pierre could see her now, he wouldn't believe it.
"Not scientific, Sonny. Just risky and exciting. It's that one great champion we're all looking for."
Gently Michael ushered Sonny out to the exercise ring, where she saw the most beautiful, magnificent horse standing near the white fence that enclosed the area.
Graceful Lady was everything that her name denoted. She was a dark chestnut color and her coat had the luster of fine satin. There was a calm about her, as if she were waiting patiently for the foal, knowing too that she would be the mother of a new champion.
"She's beautiful," Sonny exclaimed as she
called to the animal. The small ears seemed to respond and Graceful Lady ambled over to the fence, nudging Sonny's shoulder with her nose. Sonny stroked her head and the large brown eyes that looked back at her seemed to recognize her touch.
Michael watched as Sonny gently caressed the animal, and he saw in her the kindness and instant rapport that had been so much a part of her father.
The horse immediately responded to her touch as though she were finding a long lost friend.
The sun was shining on the back of Sonny's golden hair and she turned to Michael, momentarily forgetting her battle with him. Her face was aglow with a broad smile that exposed prominent dimples. It was the look of a child who had found their heart's desire under the Christmas tree. Although he wanted to fight the impulse, Michael was greatly moved by her.
By noon, the morning's work had been completed and Michael asked Sonny to joint him for lunch, which she readily agreed to. They walked back to the O'Brien cottage. Sonny's steps were slow and Michael smiled inwardly as he watched her trying to hide her soreness. She was stubborn. But, he would be certain that she followed through with J.B.'s conditions.
After all, if she wanted Pinebrook she would have to fight for it. He had worked here for most of his life and he would not sit back and watch her give up everything her father and his father had worked for. No, Michael would see to it that Sonny learned what it meant to raise Thoroughbreds.
The inside of the cottage felt cool and comfortable and Sonny felt at home the moment she entered the small living room. The worn furniture looked lived-in and yet the place was immaculate. Katy's hand of course would answer for that. And Sonny knew that keeping house for two men must not be easy.
Michael motioned for her to sit on the couch and she gladly accepted, as her sore body eased itself into a comfortable position.
"I'll fix you one of my special sandwiches.
Just wait here." Michael disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her alone.
She lay her head back and closed her eyes.
Billy had told her that he worked here all day and still took a college course at night. How did he find the time, she wondered, and how did he move with such inexhaustible energy.
Sonny had watched the men working many times
from her bedroom window, and it always looked so much easier. Now that she had experienced the actual work, she wondered where her strength would come from.
Michael returned to the living room with a tray, which he sat on the table in front of him.
"You like roast beef?" he asked.
Sonny opened one eye, then raised her head slowly. "Anything sounds good right now."
"Oh, this isn't just anything. Wait till you taste." Michael handed her a thick sandwich on a hard roll, and watched her take her first bite.
Sonny didn't realize that she was eating so fast until she noticed Michael watching her with a curious look of mirth in his dark eyes.
"Hungry?" he asked, resting his arm on the back of the couch.
"A little," she answered sheepishly returning the last b
it of her sandwich to the plate and wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
Michael began twisting a strand of her hair around his finger as he leaned closer to her. His hands moved slowly, sensually and then his fingers slid to her neck, which he touched ever so gently, massaging in slow circular movements. Sonny opened her mouth to protest, but his rough, calloused hand was on the side of her face. Every pore became sensitized to his touch, and she was instantly aware that these were not the smooth graceful fingers of Pierre Dubois.
She moved her arm and grasped his wrist with fingers that felt weak and trembling, hoping he would stop, half-hoping he would not.
"Michael…no." Her voice was thick and her eyes betrayed the protest. They were ignited with the fire of passion that only Michael could see and feel. Blue flames shown beneath thick dark lashes and he knew that he wanted her more now than he had ever wanted another woman in his life.
Michael drew her close to him, crushing her against his tight chest, his lips bearing down on hers with a crushing forcefulness that he could not control. His need was over powering and he must have her. As Sonny's lips responded to the fire that Michael had ignited within her, they slowly parted and her arms were around him, pressing against the rippling muscles of his back.
A slow agonizing moan came from Michael's throat as his tongue tasted the sweetness of her responsiveness and her breathing came in deep heaves. Michael had dreamed of her softness and the moment when she would be his, but he did not want her this way. He wanted Sondra Mead in his own world, and not just for a moment's passion. He wanted her for always, to be there when he awoke in the morning, to cradle in his arms at night. But, until she could accept herself and Pinebrook, she would not be able to accept her life with him.
Michael gently released her, feeling her body shiver as he did so. "I think you've had enough for today, Sonny. Go on home."
Michael's words were harsh as he pulled himself away. His face was flushed and his eyes burned with the hunger that filled his soul. Sonny's mouth was still parted and glistening with the touch of his kiss. Confused and angered by his sudden withdrawal, she raised her hand to slap him hard across the face.
Something she had never done before to any man.
"I am home, Michael. You forget my father owned this cottage."
"Which is now half mine."
"Not for long. I'll see to it that you get nothing."
"Or everything." Michael's voice was firm but calm, and Sonny jumped to her feet.
"I'll fight you all the way on this. And I'll win." She turned to leave and he did nothing to stop her.
Michael knew that Sonny was tired from the morning's work, and as his eyes followed her, he wondered how long she could endure this life that she knew nothing of and cared little for. Would she take the lead at the starting gate, or would she go slowly round the curves, never making it to the end? He was a betting man and he was placing his life on this one, hoping she would pick up speed down the stretch and finish like the champion he knew her to be.
CHAPTER 4
Sonny trudged up the hill to the sanctuary of her own house. Her mouth still burned with the memory of Michael's kiss. She dug into the dirt path with the toe of her boot, kicking rocks and pebbles that lay in her path. You've really made a mess of things today, she told herself. She had planned to be tough and show him what she was made of, and all she had managed to do was give in to exhaustion and end up in Michael's arms. Not a very good beginning.
Michael was on familiar ground and she wasn't.Her father had dealt the hand and Michael held all of the cards. All she could do was to hang on and stand her ground. After all, Pinebrook was rightfully hers and Michael O'Brien had no right to any part of it.
Her father had been misled, or charmed…or he would never have written in this ridiculous agreement.
As the house came into view, Sonny felt a wave of warmth come over her. Just a few more steps and she could enjoy a hot bath, which was something that she needed desperately. Every muscle in her back ached and her arms were tired and limp at her sides. She had never experienced this kind of exhaustion in her life and hopefully, she never would again.
But she did. For the next few days, Michael repeated his routine of coming up to the house for her by seven and escorting her down to the stables where she worked with them to care for the animals.
The routine had expanded by a few hours, when she learned that the horses had to be groomed again after they were exercised. The black two-year old would be racing soon and he seemed to respond well to Billy. Michael explained that he would never be a Kentucky Derby winner, but with the training he had received, he would bring in a good share of wins to Pinebrook.
"She's just like her name, Fit n' Fancy," Billy explained as he mounted the black Thoroughbred.
"When will you ride her?" Sonny knew that Billy had been training for his first race.
"Soon as Will gets back with Tally Ho and Bright Fancy, we'll be heading with him over to Golden Gate Fields." Billy rubbed the dark horse's side affectionately.
"Is it tough, in the race Billy?" Sonny had always wondered what kind of pressure the jockey's must be under and how they handled their mounts so expertly.
"It won't be tough as long as I keep my head straight," he said confidently. "Main thing is to know what the horse can do, and this gal can out run em' all."
"I hope you're right." Although Sonny had never been to a race with her father, she could feel the excitement in Billy's voice.
Sonny had watched Fit n' Fancy working out and was in awe of her agility, but the horse that quickly became her favorite was Graceful Lady. She loved grooming her and watching the luster come into her deep chestnut coat. With all the routine care, Sonny
had lost most of her long fingernails. Finally she resolved to keep them short until she returned to Paris.
After lunch everyday, Sonny perched on the wood rail fence by the lush green grazing pasture and watched the animals that fed on the grass. They seemed so free her, she thought, and it occurred to her that they would make wonderful studies for pictures.
When Will O'Brien returned from his racing tour, he came back with several victories for Pinebrook. He was delighted to see Sonny and he looked just as she had remembered. His salt and pepper hair was as thick and wavy as Michael's and the heavy brows framed dark eyes and a weather-beaten face. He stood erect and spoke with the hint of the Irish accent that had never quite left both he and Katy.
"You've become a beauty," Will said as he bent down to kiss Sonny on the forehead. "Oust like Michael said."
Sonny's cheeks warmed at his remark. She wrapped her arms around Will and held him tightly, afraid for a moment to let go. She wanted to talk with him about her father's death and the circumstances that led to his strange will, but she knew that would be intruding on Michael's close relationship with his own father.
"You look good," Sonny said as she held him at arm's length. "Michael tells me you're traveling a lot these days and letting him manage things back here."
"That's right," Will answered. "I've done all I could do with the training and now it's Michael's turn. He has such a way with the horses you know, that your father and I just let him take over."
Indeed they did Sonny thought.
So that explained how Michael had worked his way into his father's will. He had made himself indispensable and when his own father stepped aside, that left him in charge. Sonny should have guessed that it was all that simple, right from the start.
"Did you know about Michael's being named as half owner of Pinebrook?" Sonny asked the question in a cautious way, not wanting to show her feelings of resentment to Michael's father.
Will's eyebrows formed into a frown and he shook his head. "No, and it came as a big surprise, you can be sure."
"I'm surprised my father hadn't mentioned it to you beforehand."
"Oh, I don't know about that, Sonny. Your father was a dear friend, but he kept some of his business to himself.
"Will, you know how I've always felt about this place." Sonny watched Michael's father as he carefully pulled the worn pipe from the pocket of his shirt. He lit the end, stuck between his teeth, and filled the air with the aromatic blend of the tobacco blend that was so much a part of him.
"I know. But, you're a strong girl and you'll see things differently in a few months. That I promise you."
Sonny turned her head away from the kind eyes that looked back at her. She knew that Will had spent a lifetime here, training, managing and overseeing every detail at Pinebrook. And she also knew that his heart was here too. He would have to understand that her heart wasn't. It never had been.
"I haven't decided what I'll do with it all yet," Sonny explained. "Dad's attorney says Michael and I have to review the farm's business at the end of the six month period."
Will arched one eyebrow and then smiled. "Our new champion will be weaned by then."
He was ignoring her last comment.
"Graceful Lady's foal?" If Will did not want to discuss the future of Pinebrook, then Sonny would not press him.
"I feel it in my bones, Sonny. This is the one we've been waitin' for." The laugh lines around Will's eyes were pronounced as he cocked his head to one side. He seemed always to be hearing something the breeze whispered in his ear. Something private that only he could know or understand.
"You're that sure?" Sonny asked.
"It's that I am. Graceful Lady has a contentment to her this time that's not like all the other times."
"But, Michael said you check those things on charts and…"
"Blarney to the charts. He'll be a champion, you'll see. A real horseman can feel it in his bones."
Will was emphatic that Sonny believed him too. When her father had found the beautiful stallion,
Irish Crystal, in Ireland, he had brought him back to the stables with his trainer, Will O'Brien. The family story was that Will had known the horse would be a champion. J.B. had kept Will with him,