chapter 2
Sonny sat up in bed with a startled look on her sleep-swollen face. It was already nine o'clock and Ben Mathison was to read her father's will at ten.
The moment she had dreaded was almost here. Somehow, official notification of her inheritance of Pinebrook was going to make her father's death seem so final. Sonny had managed to come to terms with her own feelings of loss, but being back here in J.B's world was unsettling. She only hoped that returning to Paris and her regular routine would help bring her back to normalcy.
Sonny showered and dressed in a white silk tailored blouse and a black skirt that emphasized her small waistline. She fastened the pearl buttons on her cuffs and straightened the wide collar that opened at the neck. Working with Pierre's innovative and outrageous fashions had not altered the quietly sophisticated look she chose for her own wardrobe.
When she had finished tucking her hair neatly at the nape of her neck and applied a blusher to her cheeks and gloss to her lips, Sonny sat on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.
Moments later, Sonny entered her father's den and was immediately overcome by the darkly paneled walls filled with photographs of J.B. and his past champions. The room pervaded with his presence and she turned away from the familiar face in the pictures.
In one corner of the room, next to the floor-to-ceiling red brick fireplace was a large oak desk. Bookshelves lined every other wall and were stacked with volumes of good reading material. Her father's penchant for books was surpassed only by his love for his champions. The well-worn brown leather couch was placed in front of the fireplace and two matching chairs faced the heavy burled wood table. Being a big man himself, J.B. had filled his house with sturdy no-nonsense furniture. He was a functional man who believed in the true essence of simplicity, a trait Sonny, it seemed, had not inherited.
The small gold ashtray on the table caught Sonny's eye and she picked it up, her fingers exploring the familiar object. It had been a birthday present for her father and it had taken two extra turns at the county fair to win it. She carefully placed it back on the table and turned, startled to see Michael coming through the doorway.
"What are you doing here?" Sonny asked, wondering if he had let himself in with Katy's key.
"Coming to see your father's attorney."
Michael handed her an envelope to support his reasons for appearing.
"Ben asked you to be here?"
"It's all in that letter." Michael sauntered over to the couch and sank into the soft cushions. He wore a blue plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Tanned, muscular arms were exposed and Sonny turned her attention to one of the high-backed chairs, as she slid gracefully into the seat.
"Probably wants to discuss stable management." Sonny had begun in mid-sentence without knowing it.
"Who does?" Michael asked.
"Ben, of course. Anyway, you two can discuss whatever it is you need to." It would be best that way, because she certainly didn't want Michael being present while they discussed her father's will.
Sonny unconsciously bit her lower lip as the silence between them became deafening. She shifted her weight nervously from one leg to the other, first crossing, then uncrossing. Michael followed every move with his dark, feline eyes.
Ben Mathison, who looked more like a country singer than an attorney, stroked his bushy red mustache thoughtfully and cleared his throat. "Sonny, I'll repeat myself. Your father bequeathed Pinebrook Farm to be divided equally between you and Michael O'Brien."
Sonny's audible gasp filled the room.
"Michael…" She turned to him and her eyes ignited with unspoken accusations.
"I'm as shocked as you," Michael confessed.
"My father must have told you something about this" Sonny challenged, her blue eyes filled with distrust.
"No, he didn't."
"Hold it a minute, you two," Ben cut in. "This document is legal, and it's history right now. You can't make accusations or denials and expect it to go away. You'll both have to abide by the conditions, or forfeit your half of the inheritance.
"What?" Sonny's voice was high-pitched and her face was beginning to lose its color.
"You heard me right. Lose your inheritance.
Let me explain the conditions that go along with this, then you can throw stones at him," Ben indicated with a nod of his red head in the direction of Michael. "But, wait till I'm out of the room." He chuckled lightly and then realized he was the only one in the room who found the remark amusing.
Sonny had been sitting on the edge of her seat, and now she sank back against the cool leather cushion and waited to hear the terms of the agreement. She felt confused, betrayed and trapped and there was nothing she could do to stop it. J.B. Mead had always been a man of direction, but this made absolutely no sense at all. Why would he leave half of his estate to Michael O'Brien? Even though he had lived and worked on the farm for most of his life, in what way did that entitle him to half ownership?
"The main stipulation here, that you, Sonny, stay on the premises for the next six months."
"That's too long, Ben. My boss won't wait forever for me to return to work, you know."
"I'm sure that he would understand if you explained things to him. Now, remember that if any of these conditions aren't met, you will forfeit..,."
"Yes, I see your point. But that doesn't make it any easier," Sonny observed, as her face clouded with uncertainty.
"What happens after six months?" Michael asked.
Ben loosened the dark tie around his heavy neck and looked at Michael with mud-colored eyes. "That's simple enough. Both of you will sign papers to the effect that these conditions were mt, and then you can either continue the partnership or one of you sell out to the other."
"Of course I'll sell," Sonny stated with contempt in her voice.
"Maybe you'll change your mind and decide to stay." The twinkle in Michael's dark eyes only angered her more.
He had walked into this room with nothing more than a stable training job, and now he was going to leave as half-owner of everything. The more Sonny thought about it the more she bristled. She was the one who had lost here today, not Michael O'Brien.
And, judging by the look on his face, he knew it too.
Sonny shook her head insistently. "No, I won't want to stay. If we're being forced into this partnership, then I have no other alternative. When the time period is complete, the order of things will change drastically.
Ben continued to make reference to the paper in front of him as he spoke. "Now, this next condition is addressed to you, Sonny. J.B. realized you had very little knowledge of the business and practical workings of Pinebrook. Therefore, he has stipulated that Michael and Will O'Brien fully indoctrinate you on every aspect of the farm."
Sonny's lips paled with anger. "Ben, my father knew that I had very little interest in the farm. Why would he insist on throwing me into something I hate?"
"I can't answer a question like that," Ben said flatly. "J.B. hired me for legal advise, not personal counseling.
Michael's broad shoulders inched up as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. Sonny tried to avoid the dark eyes that watched her every move and she shuddered when she thought of this man as her business partner.
"Working with Sonny will be my pleasure, Ben." Michael's mouth turned up at the ends and the laugh lines around his eyes became more prominent as he watched her.
Sonny felt an uneasiness come over her as she tried to keep her eyes averted and her mind on the business at hand. If only Michael would leave the room, she could think this thing through and make some sense of it all. Right now, her mind was tormented with the unpredictable future that lay ahead.
Until the news of her father's death had reached her, life had been comfortable and predictable. No changes, no surprises and best of all, no Michael O'Brien. In just a few days, everything was being turned around and she was trapped at the bottom with no visible means of escape.
Ben Mathison made quick order of discussing the terms of the will and left papers for each of them to sign and send back to his office in San Francisco. Sonny wanted time to digest the contract and Ben had agreed to leave her alone.
Michael watched her, as she held the paper
between her fingers, looking more like a frightened young child than a sophisticated photographer. He wanted, more than anything, to hold her in his arms and kiss away the pain of her father's last wish. But that was impossible, because Sonny wanted to leave Pinebrook, She would tire of this kind of life and crave more excitement. Michael did not want to lose her again, for he knew that she would eventually leave for Paris, just as she had four years ago.
"Why did you do this, Michael?"
"Do what?"
"Convince my father that you should have a portion of the inheritance that was rightfully mine."
"J.B. made his own decisions. This one just happened to involve me." Michael's attempts to excuse himself were not working.
"Dad and I weren't very close, Michael, but one thing held never do is leave Pinebrook to anyone but me." Sonny's face shown with bold defiance as she tilted her head to the side.
Michael's eyes still burned with inner lights of mockery and he seized the opportunity to spar with her, something he had missed for a long time. "You might say this is no longer just Mead property. I think my signature on this paper will make it Mead-O'Brien."
Sonny dropped her arms to her sides and clutched the paper tightly between her fingers.
"You only control half, Michael, and only for six months," she said emphatically.
"Oh?" he said, his thick brows arching in question.
"I intend to buy out your half eventually."
"Funny, I was thinking of doing the same thing." Michael smiled and folded his arms.
"You wouldn't dare," she uttered in disbelief. "If anyone should have control of the land it's me."
"And why not me, Sonny? I've worked it while you've been running all over Paris without a thought in your head about life back here."
"That's your opinion," Sonny replied with heavy sarcasm.
"Prove me wrong," Michael challenged.
"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.