O'Brien's Lady (3 page)

"Why should I? You seem to have figured me out all by yourself."

A suggestion of annoyance edged into Michael's dark eyes and his mouth was set in a firm line of determination. His arms went around her in one swift, smooth movement and she felt his large hands pressing against her back. The muscle in his jaw twitched

involuntarily and the twinkle of his eyes had been replaced with a dark and almost frightening look of determination. Sonny shivered as she looked up into his bronze face, but she would not show him that he, more than any other man, could arouse and crush her feelings in a matter of seconds,

Michael's jaw was clenched and a sudden look of sheer pain passed between the fluttering of his eyelids. "You're going to have to get hold of yourself, Sondra Mead, because the next few months aren't going to be easy for either of us."

"Michael…" she began, but his finger was quickly pressed to her lips and his hands loosened their grip on her back. Her breath was coming in short, uneven gasps and her throat became very dry.

"I'll be here at seven tomorrow morning. We'll start work down at the stables." Michael dropped his arms to his side and promptly left without another words.

Sonny returned to her father's den later that evening, and found herself looking at the photographs that lined the wall. The antique grandfather clock against the far wall chimed softly, then resumed its rhythmic ticking.

A whole lifetime of accomplishment seemed to unfold before her as she looked first at the black and white print of her parents standing beside Irish Crystal, the stallion J.B. had purchased in Ireland many years ago. The years unfolded as the faces grew older and then there was the awkwardly posed pictures of Will O'Brien, the trainer the Meads had brought home with them to reside and work at Pinebrook Farm.

Sonny smiled, as her eyes scanned the pictures of Will's sister, young Kathryn Marie who came with him to help raise young Michael, the boy with the dark pensive eyes and the overly expressive brows.

There were pictures of champions, but not pictures of Sonny. This was, after all, her father's trophy room and reserved only for his Thoroughbreds.

It was a room where he made deals and planned strategy and talked with his employees, but it was not a room for his own daughter.

As Sonny became witness to the years that had passed, she felt alienated from this world that had never been a part of her life.

While Pinebrook was producing champions, Sonny was being sent to private schools to get an education. Her father once said he would not have his young daughter growing up at racetracks. Why had it taken her father all these years to finally demand that she

take an interest in the farm? If only he'd have asked, she would have been his most reliable ally.

Now she wanted no part of it.

Morning light filtered through the drawn window shades, robbing Sonny of the extra sleep she needed. Getting up at the first signs of dawn were definitely not a part of her life.

Spending evenings with Pierre and making the rounds at parties and the "in places" were her forte, and sleeping-in was a built-in privilege of her profession. Her shooting sessions were often in the afternoon, unless they were on locations and then the schedule would only change for a day or two. It was a crazy, exciting life and one that Sonny missed already. Coming home had not been easy.

Pinebrook was a place she wanted to tuck away somewhere, hoping the years of loneliness here could be somehow forgotten. Sometimes she had actually hated the Thoroughbreds that took so much of her father's time. Why should she want to work with them now? If she were free to sell or dispose of the property, she could leave in a few weeks. But, Michael's half ownership in the business would now make that impossible.

As Sonny splashed cool water on her face and brushed her straight white teeth, she wondered what Michael had planned for her today. Undoubtedly, it would be something difficult. What he didn't know was that she was ready for him. She would do everything he asked, and do it well.

She smiled with satisfaction as she tried to visualize Michael's reaction. He would be expecting her to give up and she wouldn't. In fact, he might be in for the surprise of his life.

When Sonny came downstairs, she was wearing jeans, a white pullover and her blond hair was tied back with a rubber band. She had been fortunate to find a pair of old boots still in her closet. A lot of things had changed in the years she'd been away, but shoe size was not one of them.

"Top o' the mornin'," Katy greeted Sonny as she came into the large blue and white country kitchen.

The delicious aroma of fresh bacon and eggs filled her nostrils.

"You're going to spoil me, Katy."

"Good. You look like you could use a little love and care."

Sonny swallowed a biteful of egg and washed it down with a gulp of hot coffee.

"I feel terrible about the inheritance, Sonny."

Katy watched her with eyes that had suddenly dulled against the natural glow of her face. "I know you must be confused about why your father did that."

"I am. I never really wanted to take over here, but knowing that I must now share my decision with someone else if very painful.

Sonny chewed thoughtfully on a strip of crisp bacon that she held between her fingers.

"Whatever is meant to be, I always say. You must take it one day at a time."

"Thanks, Katy for the encouragement, but one day is one too many for me right now. I feel like I'm suspended in time, not belonging in either place." Sonny shuddered at the thought.

When Michael's knock sounded at the back door, it was exactly seven o'clock, the tight fit of his jeans against his muscular thighs irritated Sonny and the red and black checked shirt opened low enough to expose bits of dark hair on his brown chest. How dare he flaunt himself like this!

"Ready to go?" Michael's eyes danced with merriment and he reached for a strip of bacon that was draining on a piece of paper toweling.

"I've been ready for a long time," Sonny answered as she carried her plate to the sink.

"Michael, don't you over work her today," Katy advised.

He winked at Katy and then bowed graciously. "After you, Sonny."

The air felt cool and fresh as was so typical of July in the Bay Area. Even though nearby San Francisco was often blanketed with morning fog, this area remained a lush, green wooded town filled with clear skies and clean air. It had been a long time since Sonny had walked down the path leading to the O'Brien cottage and the stable areas. She felt like she was intruding on someone else's property, certainly not her own.

"What will I be doing today?" Sonny broke the silence with her question.

"Working in the stables, cleaning…grooming. You shouldn't have bothered to fix yourself up so nice."

"Why?"

"Because after a couple of hours down here, you'll be tired and sweating."

"I never sweat, Michael."

"You will today." Michael tugged at her pony tail and his eyes filled with the twinkle of a thousand stars on a summer's night.

CHAPTER 3

Michael's black eyes shown brightly beneath the heavy fringe of dark lashes. The more Sonny objected to this partnership, the more he enjoyed it. He had managed, four years ago, to capture her for a long awaited kiss that he could still remember. But, her love for adventure had taken her to France and away from the life at Pinebrook that she found so bland.

Like an elf fleeing before the light of morning breaks the magic, Sonny had walked out of his life.

Now she was back, weaving her spell on him once again. Enchanting him with that special blend of innocence and sophistication. As he walked by her side, long blond hair moved with the rhythmic flow of her curvaceous body. Her head was held high and her pale skin gleamed in the morning sun. He would have to handle her with care, being ever so careful not to break her spirit. Just like a young filly that must be broken-in, she would have to be coaxed with a gentle but firm hand. With a lot of understanding, maybe Sondra Mead just might decide to stay.

Sonny walked at a brisk pace, taking two short steps to Michael's every one. The toes of his boots were worn but the heels looked new. She wondered if he ever bought new clothes before the old ones wore out. She decided he must be the steadfast type who resisted any sign of change. Definitely not her type. What was there was about him that attracted her?

Maybe it was that faraway look just beyond his eyes that beckoned to her with the promise of something yet undiscovered.

At the end of the long pathway, just beyond the O'Brien cottage, were the barns that housed the Mead

Thoroughbreds. The wood buildings were always kept in top condition and created quite an impressive picture against the natural green backdrop of grassy pastures and tall pines.

From inside the main barn, Sonny could hear the nicker of a horse awaiting his morning feeding. As Michael led her through the front entrance, she was immediately surrounded with the smell of fresh hay and worn leather

There were five stalls on either side, each with its own hinged dutch door.

"We've got a new groom," Michael said as he walked with Sonny down to the far end of the barn where a young boy was scooping out grain from the large wooden feed bin.

Hearing them approach, he turned around and faced Michael with a warm smile that spanned the width of his face. Judging from his height of about 5'3, Sonny was sure he must be an aspiring jockey.

"Billy Watters, meet J.B.'s daughter, Sonny." Michael made the introductions.

Billy wiped his hands on his jeans and reached for a firm hand shake. Curly brown hair and hazel eyes accentuated his face, which was quite good looking.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, shaking her hand vigorously.

"Billy's just finished high school, and is here learning the business. He'll be wearing our silks very soon."

"That's great," Sonny acknowledged.

"It'll be my honor," he said.

"Sonny is here to learn how we keep up the stables and she wants to have an active part in the grooming." Michael placed an arm around Sonny's shoulder and smiled down at her.

"That's right, Billy, now that I'm owner of Pinebrook, I need to see how it's all done." Sonny cocked her head to one side and grinned smugly.

"Half owner," Michael corrected.

Sonny ignored his remark. "I'm ready to work," she said rubbing her hands together briskly.

She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Hopefully, she could go shopping in the afternoon and write letters to Pierre and her roommate, Jan. Sonny knew that Michael was going to be watching every move, but there didn't seem to be anything that looked hard. What could be difficult about throwing hay in stalls and cleaning horses?

She had watched National Velvet many times and it all looked like a breeze.

"We'll have to clean out the stalls first, and I've fed most of them," Billy said as he led Michael and Sonny down to the front end of the barn. Michael walked a few paces behind. He walked with his hands thrust in his jeans pockets as he whistled, "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling". Sonny held her head high and tried to ignore him. If she kept this up, he might get bored and leave.

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."