8

CONNOR RAN FROM THE BARN, his heart thumping in his chest. He thought he’d heard the high-pitched sound of a child screaming. As he neared the fence, the blood drained from his head so fast he had to blink to make sure he was seeing right.

Good Lord! What was Sean doing in the pen with Excalibur?

Connor’s boots kicked up dirt as he charged toward the enclosure. Before he could reach the fence, Deirdre had tackled Sean to the ground. Then right behind her, Dr. Clayborne threw himself over both of them.

Sweat pooled under Connor’s hat and trickled down his temple. From the wildness in the stallion’s eyes, Connor gauged the animal to be beyond reason. It would take too long to calm the beast down. Still, he had to do something. He’d hurdled the fence, mentally planning his strategy, when a figure shot past him.

The new stable hand slowed his pace as he neared the still-bucking horse. Connor bit back a shout of warning, not wanting to spook the animal further and endanger Joe’s life.

The lad spoke in a low, lilting voice, almost singing to the beast, and to Connor’s utter astonishment, Excalibur’s hooves remained on the ground. He snorted, air coming out in puffs, yet his attention remained riveted on Joe Miller.

Connor approached cautiously, afraid to set the horse off again.

Joe held up a hand to halt Connor. Though it galled him to remain motionless, Connor had little recourse. He tensed, clenching his hands into fists at his sides, unable to do anything but watch.

Slowly, Joe reached up and grabbed the reins. Connor’s muscles seized, ready for the horse to panic. To rear and strike the lad. If the horse injured him, Connor would never forgive himself. He was responsible while Sam was away.

But Joe continued to talk to the animal, which, for some unknown reason, quieted.

From the corner of his eye, Connor saw the doctor move Deirdre and Sean to safety.

Joe rubbed his hand over Excalibur’s neck. The tension seemed to leave the animal, and its muscles relaxed.

“It’s all right. No one’s going to hurt you.” Joe stroked the stallion’s flank.

Connor pulled off his cap and scratched his sweat-soaked head, unable to believe what he was seeing. The boy led the subdued horse across the pasture, now as docile as a lamb.

Connor thrust his cap back on and strode to the opposite side of the fence, where the group of onlookers huddled around his nephew. Deirdre had her hand on the boy’s shoulder. The doctor knelt beside his daughter, whose cheeks dripped with silent tears. Betsy and Rose held hands, their faces as white as Sean’s.

Fear, relief, and a snarl of annoyance balled up in Connor’s chest, releasing in an angry snort. “Sean Whelan!” he bellowed. “Come here right now.”

A flash of fear crossed the boy’s features, but Connor held firm.

Deirdre came toward him, pinning Connor with the same glare she’d used when they were kids. “Can’t this wait?”

“No, it can’t.” Connor gestured to Sean. “In the barn. Now.”

The boy threw his aunt a desperate look.

She shrugged. “I’m sorry, honey. Uncle Connor’s in charge. You’ll have to do as he says.”

Sean hung his head and trudged toward the barn.

Connor regarded his sister’s disapproving face. “It’s for his own good, Dee. He could’ve been killed. I can’t let that slide.”

He stalked over to the barn, dreading having to punish his nephew. But someone needed to teach Sean respect for the rules, and if it had to be him, then so be it. His parents would thank him in the long run.

Connor glanced briefly at the far edge of the pasture where Joe stood with Excalibur, and a begrudging sense of admiration crept over him. A talent for horses like he’d just witnessed was rare indeed, and he fully intended to make the most of Joe’s gift.

Once Jo managed to get the great stallion back into the barn, her heart rate finally slowed to near normal. She offered a quick prayer of gratitude that God had allowed her to soothe the agitated animal. Excalibur wasn’t purposely trying to harm the boy, she was sure. Clearly not used to being around children, the stallion had panicked. Now, back in his stall where he felt safe, the animal remained quiet.

Jo rubbed a hand over his nose. “There’s nothing to fear. No one is going to hurt you, I promise.”

What a magnificent animal. She’d never seen a horse so fine. How she wished she could work with Excalibur. But a mere stable hand would not be allowed to interfere with the training of a champion racehorse.

Though she’d love to find out how receptive Connor O’Leary might be to any advice from her, she didn’t dare try. Best not to draw any undue attention to herself.

Quietly, she exited the stables and made her way into the secondary barn. As she rounded a corner, a childish voice halted her stride.

“Are you gonna whip me, Uncle Connor?”

Jo froze, every vertebrae stiffening at the ring of fear in the boy’s voice. Her muscles tensed as she waited for an answer, prepared to intervene if need be. She would not allow any child to be harmed if she could prevent it.

“Don’t you think you deserve a whipping for what you’ve done? Disobeying your granddad’s rules. Almost getting yourself killed, not to mention endangering your aunt, Dr. Clayborne, and a valuable racehorse.”

Jo inched closer to the edge of the wall, stopping when a tiny voice answered, “I guess so.”

Jo peered around the edge of the last stall. Connor sat on a wooden stool, his back to the wall. The boy stood directly in front of him, toeing the dirt.

Connor picked up a long, thin piece of wood lying across his lap and tapped it lightly against his palm.

Jo tensed. Surely he wouldn’t use that stick on the child. She shuddered, recalling the many objects her father had used on her, some of which had left a lasting reminder.

“Lucky for you, young man, I don’t believe in whippings. However . . .” He paused, seemingly for effect.

Jo wished she could see Connor’s face.

“However, your actions must have a consequence. I think one fitting the crime is in order.”

The boy’s head flew up, his expression half relieved, half tentative.

“You will muck out all the stalls in both barns for one week.”

The boy’s freckles stood out on the bridge of his nose. “But that’s—”

“What? Not fair?” Connor leaned forward, his face inches from the boy’s. “Would you prefer a whipping, then?”

“No, sir.” The youngster’s chin touched his plaid shirt.

Connor leaned the stick against the wall and rose. “Good. You can start tomorrow morning.”

The boy remained unmoving.

“Go on home now and tell your parents what happened.”

“Yes, sir.” The boy took two steps and then turned back, his lip quivering. “I’m sorry, Uncle Connor.” A tear escaped from the corner of his eye.

Connor gave a gusty sigh, then caught the boy up in his arms. “You have to be more careful, Sean. We all love you very much. If anything ever happened to you . . .” He cleared his throat and set Sean back on the ground.

“Will you still teach me how to rope?”

He rested a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “Once your punishment is over, we’ll discuss it again.”

The boy nodded. “Papa’s going to be mad.”

Jo stiffened. Would Mr. Whelan beat his son for his crime?

But Connor chuckled. “Yes, he will. You may have more chores to do at home as well.”

As the boy scampered out of the barn, Jo let out her breath. Sean would be fine, in the stable and at home. And with any luck, Connor O’Leary would treat his employees as fairly as he did his nephew.

Thinking to make a quiet retreat, she took a step back. Her foot landed in a metal pail. She squeaked as cold water flooded her boot and sloshed onto the dirt floor. With a groan, she pulled out her foot and gave it a shake.

“That’s one way to clean your boots.”

She looked up, horrified to find Connor grinning at her.

“Sorry.” She bent to right the bucket and set it on a nearby bench.

“Relax. It’s only water.”

She started walking, and he followed her through the barn. “I wanted to thank you for what you did out there with Excalibur. How did you get that horse to settle?”

Jo kept going, trying to ignore the wetness squishing between her toes. “I just talked to him. He was more afraid than the boy.” She glanced up. “What happened to him, anyway?”

Connor’s brows rose. “To the horse?”

She nodded.

“There was an accident during a race. Excalibur was injured and—” Connor swallowed—“his rider was killed. No one’s been able to ride him since.”

Jo fought the sting of tears. “That poor thing. No wonder he’s so spooked.”

“Yeah, well, you sure saved the day, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jo’s heart thumped hard at his scrutiny. A rush of heat invaded her cheeks. This was exactly what she didn’t want—fuss and attention.

Especially from this man who did funny things to her insides.

“One more thing.” Connor’s command halted her departure.

She kept her eyes trained on her saturated boot.

“My nephew will be working in the barn for the next week as punishment. I’d like you to supervise him while he works. He won’t be as intimidated by you as the others.”

Jo swallowed. “Yes, sir.” She dared to look up, only to find Connor’s steady gaze on her. Intriguing flecks of gold in his eyes mesmerized her.

“Make sure you don’t go too easy on him. He needs to feel the punishment.”

“Got it.”

“Joe?”

She stopped again and waited.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “There’s no need to be nervous around me—or anyone else here. But if someone gives you trouble, you come to me. Understand?”

Warmth from his hand spread down her arm. The fact that he was willing to protect her, even though he thought her to be an adolescent boy, made her throat tighten. “Thank you, sir.”

“Call me Connor. See you tomorrow, Joe.”

She nodded and set off before he could say anything else, painfully aware of him watching her walk away.

She would have to do her best to avoid him for the next few days until the curiosity she sensed in him faded. She only hoped that working with his nephew wouldn’t mean he’d need to talk to her on a regular basis.

The less time she spent around Connor—and those amazing hazel eyes—the better.