6

AFTER MAKING SURE all the horses had been fed and watered and had clean straw in their stalls, Adam made his way to Sam’s workshop. Knowing he’d never sleep a wink while the party went on without him, Adam planned to soothe his wounded pride by working on a chest he’d started. Sam had been kind enough to supply the materials, giving him a quick refresher course in the finer aspects of furniture-making. It hadn’t taken long for Adam’s fingers to remember the feel of the wood or the ease of the lathe in his hand.

When footsteps sounded in the corridor some time later, Adam lifted his head from his work. Sam must be up late tonight. Or perhaps he couldn’t sleep, either. The door to the workshop creaked open. Adam froze, and the sand block slipped from his fingers.

Miss Montgomery stood in the opening, a vision in green silk, her dark hair arranged in a fancy upsweep with several enticing strands left to curl over her shoulders.

When her eyes met his, her mouth fell open. “You’re the man from the orphanage. What are you doing here?”

Adam brushed the sawdust from his hands as he attempted to recover his equilibrium. “I work here.” He came around the table toward her but halted at the wariness in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I caused you any concern. I heard the children’s laughter and couldn’t help watching them play for a minute.”

She squinted at him. “Perhaps I overreacted. But you did look like a tramp with all that long hair.”

He smothered a laugh. “Good thing I’ve since had a haircut.”

She grinned at him, visibly relaxing. “A big improvement, to be sure.”

He leaned a hip against the bench. “What are you doing here—in the barn, I mean?”

She flushed as she lifted her chin. “I came to see the horses. The guests were praising the quality of Mr. O’Leary’s animals, but to be frank, they seem rather ordinary to me.”

With effort, he kept his lips from twitching. “That’s because these are the work horses. The thoroughbreds are kept in the main stables.”

Her eyes widened. “The building to the left?”

“That’s the one.”

She threw out her hands. “I can’t believe they have a place so luxurious for animals. Back home in Cork, it would be a palace fit for a king.”

Adam couldn’t tear his gaze from this charming creature. Her guileless honesty was a refreshing change from the girls he’d met over the years—all trying to impress him with their looks or their family’s wealth.

“You’re from Ireland, then?”

“Aye. Visiting my brother. My name’s Maggie Montgomery.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Maggie. I’m Adam.” No need to divulge his surname. He could be an anonymous stable hand to her. A man with no shameful past, no criminal record. “And is the party not to your liking?” He moved closer in measured steps, as though approaching a skittish filly, afraid to scare this rare woman away.

She clasped her hands in front of her. “It’s grand, of course, but I’m afraid I’m not used to so many people. I needed a little . . . breathing room.” She glanced around him to the table where he’d been sanding. “Are you a woodworker?”

“I do this as a hobby in my spare time.” He paused, hesitating to answer. “I’m . . . a stable hand.” He waited for her demeanor to change, for her to distance herself from him. But instead she came closer, her face awash with curiosity.

He pointed to the ground. “You might want to mind your dress. It’s dirty in here.”

She glanced down at her feet then, where the hem of her skirt brushed the sawdust on the floor. “Aye. If it were my own dress, I wouldn’t mind, but I borrowed this from my sister-in-law.” A look of regret shadowed her features. “I suppose I should be getting back . . .”

“Would you like to see the horses before you go?” What mad impulse made him offer that? He should stay as far away from Maggie Montgomery as possible. For her own good, if nothing else.

Her eyes, the color of gray heather, brightened, and a smile created enticing dimples in each cheek. “I’d love to.”

Adam untied the work apron from his waist and placed it on the bench. “Allow me to escort you.” He held out his arm for her.

Her light laugh trilled over the room. “You don’t strike me as a stable hand. Have you always worked with horses?”

The irony of that question burned in Adam’s chest. Three years ago, he’d abhorred everything to do with horses. Now he was their caretaker. “I was raised with them.”

“How lucky for you. I’ve always wanted my own horse. The closest I came was a donkey named Tiger. He pulls our cart when we go into town to shop.”

Adam guided her out the side door that led to the main stables. “You said you were visiting a brother. Do you have a lot of family in America?”

“Only Rylan. Another brother, Gabe, came with me. My two oldest brothers, Tommy and Paddy, are married with families back home. They’re taking care of my mum while we’re here.”

Adam found he could listen to this girl’s lilt forever and never tire of it.

They reached the main stables, and Adam held the door open for her to enter. He flicked the switch and the electric lights came on to illuminate the space.

Beside him, Maggie gasped. “I’ve never seen anything so lovely. You must be excited to work here every day.”

“It’s a living.”

She gaped at him as though he’d sprouted horns, then her look of incredulity softened. “Ah, I see the problem.”

“You do?”

She nodded, studying him. “Your true love is furniture-making, not horses, and you’d rather be doing that.”

Adam stopped dead in the center of the corridor. In the few minutes she’d known him, Maggie Montgomery had pegged the very core of his conflict with his father. James O’Leary could never accept the fact that his son didn’t share his passion for horses. Woodworking was for lower-class, working citizens. Not the heir to Irish Meadows.

“You are a very wise woman, Maggie.”

“So my brothers often tell me.” She smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Adam. If you give it time, I’m sure you’ll eventually get to do what you love best.”

“I hope you’re right.” He forced his feet to move forward. “Allow me to show you the number one horse in the stable. One that recently won the Kentucky Derby.”

“I’d love to.” She took his arm again, but before they reached the mahogany-and-brass enclosures, the main door burst open.

Adam swiveled to see who would be entering at this hour, and his stomach sank to his work boots. His father’s scowling face blotted out everything else.

“What in tarnation is going on here?”

Maggie felt Adam stiffen beside her, and he slowly removed her hand from his arm.

“Just giving Miss Montgomery a tour of the stables, sir. Nothing to make a fuss about.”

Maggie frowned. Why would anyone make a fuss about that? And what was Mr. O’Leary doing out here? Surely, he hadn’t missed her among all his prestigious guests.

A flurry of further footsteps sounded, and Rylan appeared in the open doorway.

“Ah, Maggie, there you are. We’ve been worried about you.”

“Maggie, is this man bothering you?” Mr. O’Leary’s frown was enough to frighten years off the growth of a child.

She pulled herself up to her full height. “Not at all, sir. He’s been most kind, offering to show me the horses.”

Mr. O’Leary shot Adam a withering stare that Maggie did not understand. Even if Adam had violated some rule that stable hands could not interact with guests, Mr. O’Leary’s reaction seemed extreme.

Rylan motioned to her. “Come back to the house, Maggie. Gabe and Colleen are in a fret about you.”

Shame pooled in her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.” She turned back to face Adam. His countenance had changed completely. Gone was the pleasant stable hand who had indulged her whims. In his place, a fierce, scowling man glared at Mr. O’Leary. Maggie started at the open animosity vibrating between the two men.

“Thank you so much, Adam,” she said. “I’ll have to come back another time to see the horses.”

His features softened as he looked at her and nodded. “It was my pleasure, Maggie. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in America.”

“Thank you.” Why did it feel as though she’d never see him again? And why did that bother her? “Good luck with your furniture-making.”

Two red flags stained Adam’s cheeks. Maggie hoped she hadn’t said anything that might get him in further trouble with Mr. O’Leary.

Rylan took her by the elbow and practically dragged her outside. She quickened her pace to keep up with him. Just before they reached the house, Maggie pulled her arm free.

“Do you mind telling me what’s got your knickers in such a twist?”

An unusual scowl creased Rylan’s forehead. “You can’t go wandering off like that, Maggie. You’re not in Ireland anymore. Things are different here.”

“I only wanted some fresh air and to see the magnificent horses everyone was talking about. Is that a crime?” A cool evening breeze teased the curls on her bare shoulders, and she shivered, wishing for her wrap.

“You should have taken an escort. Girls—ladies—don’t go walking places alone. It’s more dangerous here.”

She peered at him. “Are you implying that Adam is dangerous? Because you couldn’t be more wrong.”

Rylan let out a slow breath. “He’s a criminal, Maggie. You’re not to speak to him again.”

Her mouth dropped open, her mind emptying of all logical thought. “Do you make it a habit to learn the history of all Mr. O’Leary’s employees?”

With a hand to her back, Rylan led her up the stairs to the porch that surrounded the house. “Adam is not just a stable hand. He’s Colleen’s older brother.” He leaned in close beside her. “Adam was released from prison a little over a week ago.”

Maggie’s knees wobbled. She sank onto a wicker chair, unable to absorb his statement. “I don’t understand.”

Rylan took a seat beside her. “No one is willing to hire an ex-convict, so Mr. O’Leary allowed Adam to work in the barn, but it doesn’t mean he trusts him. There’s a lot of bad blood between them.” Rylan blew out a weary breath. “Trust me, Maggie, it would be best if you forget you ever met Adam O’Leary.”

“What do you think you were doing with that girl?”

Adam stared at his father’s reddened face. “I was about to show her the horses, like she asked. Why are you making this into something sinister?”

“Don’t you realize that simply being seen with you could ruin her reputation? Or do social niceties not matter to you anymore?”

Adam clamped his lips shut. Although he hated to admit it, his father had a point. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think . . .”

“That’s half your problem, boy. You never think before you act. You certainly never consider the consequences of your actions on others. Ruin your life if you must, but leave the rest of us out of it.”

From the apoplectic look on his father’s face, Adam feared the man might suffer another angina attack. Perhaps coming to work here had been a huge mistake. No matter what Adam did, it was the wrong thing. His presence had created nothing but tension between his parents, and the last thing Adam wanted was to cause his mother more unhappiness.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I ever thought this could work.” Bitterness dripped from Adam’s words.

His father stilled for a moment. “I think it would be best for everyone involved if you found another position. You can stay on here until then.”

A harsh laugh escaped Adam. “That could take years. Don’t worry. I’ll be gone in the morning.” He strode across the hard-packed floor, boots slapping the ground.

“Don’t leave without saying good-bye to your mother,” his father called after him. “Make her believe you have a better offer somewhere else.”

It galled Adam to have to concede to his father, but for his mother’s sake, he would do it. Anything to make up for the pain he’d caused.

Adam gave a stiff nod and exited the building, but instead of going to his quarters, he walked to the fence surrounding the racetrack. He leaned his elbows on the top rung and hung his head, focusing all his attention on the simple act of breathing in and out.

A few minutes later, he sensed a presence beside him.

“You look like you’ve seen better days.” Sam’s sympathetic voice allowed the tense muscles in Adam’s back to unclench.

“Had a lot worse, as well.” Images of dreary days spent caged in a cell flashed behind his eyes. He let out a loud sigh. “This arrangement isn’t going to work, Sam. No matter what I do, my father is ready to hang me from the nearest tree without a trial.”

Sam laid a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, lad. I’ve enjoyed having you back, sharing my barn with you.”

Adam glanced over at him. “Me too.”

“Where will you go now?”

“I have a friend in the city. Maybe he can give me a new perspective on things.”

Sam’s bushy brows bunched together. “I hope you’re not going back to the thugs who got you into this mess.”

Adam shook his head. “Trust me. I’ve learned my lesson in that regard. This is a friend who visited me in prison. John’s a good man—wise beyond his years. He’s used to dealing with people . . . in my situation.”

Sam pushed away from the fence and tugged his hat on tighter. “I have a brother with a ranch out in Wyoming. I could send you there, no questions asked.”

A lump formed in Adam’s throat at the man’s simple faith in him. He nodded. “Thank you, Sam. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but it’s good to know I have another option.”

Sam squeezed Adam’s shoulder with one beefy hand. “Good luck, son. And let me know if you need anything.”

With that, Sam ambled off across the path to the barn.

Adam remained outside, knowing sleep would elude him for a long while. The vivacious features of Maggie Montgomery danced before his eyes as he stared out into the darkness, taunting him with dreams that could never be.

How had Adam ever thought coming back to Irish Meadows was a good plan? His father was not a man inclined to put the past behind them—not even for Mama’s sake. Time and distance might provide the only solution to Adam’s dilemma.

As his mind continued to run in circles, Adam turned to the one source of peace he’d found in prison.

Lord, I know I’m supposed to love my father, but does it have to be so hard? Help me to find it in my heart to forgive him, and he me. Help me to be humble and accept the consequences of my actions. And if You’re handing out miracles, allow me to make amends to my family . . . if that’s even possible.

Adam forced himself to recall John McNabb’s last visit to the penitentiary and the vow Adam had made in John’s presence—that he would take whatever steps necessary to atone for his mistakes and make peace with his family. That he would commit to doing God’s will and start his life anew with a gracious heart. To do so, John had said, Adam would need to let go of his resentment and set aside his pride.

As the morning’s first rays broke over the horizon, Adam set his jaw with renewed resolve. If it took him the rest of his days—if he had to shovel manure from here to eternity—he would make his mother proud of him again. And in doing so, Adam hoped he might one day earn the respect of his father—at last.