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."
"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 bit 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.