her. Minutes later she heard the childs deep, even breathing. Pressing her lips against the soft nape of her neck, Caitlin closed her burning eyes and slept.
Three weeks later, without the anesthetizing affect of a pint of bourbon straight up, Sam Claiborne had good reason for his anger. His lawyer had called with the news that custody battles took time. Meanwhile, Caitlins final riposte was clear, purposeful, and astonishingly well executed. Not only had she sold exactly one half of the mutual funds shed invested and withdrawn half of their joint savings account, but
Kentucky Gold
, the mare he had given his wife for a wedding gift, the dam of three Triple Crown champions recently covered by the champion,
Narraganset
, was on her way to Ireland.
3
Kilcullen, Ireland, six weeks later
C aitlin woke to a loud banging on the door. Groggily she opened her eyes and focused on the glowing hands of her alarm clock. Dawn was still three hours away. The mare must be in foal. Adrenalin surged through her and she was instantly completely awake. Throwing aside the duvet, she reached for the jeans and sweatshirt she had left hanging over the back of a chair, walked to the long window and threw open the sash. An icy blast of wind cut her face like a knife. She shouted out the window. Im coming, Davy. The knocking subsided.
Within minutes she was ready, her mass of curls twisted and controlled in a claw clip, her jacket zipped, a denim tote bag slung over her shoulder. She paused long enough to walk down the long hall to peek into her mothers room.
Brigid was awake. Im off, Caitlin whispered.
Kentucky
Gold
is foaling.
Brigid sniffed and sat up. Why are you botherin t tell me? With himself poundin and shoutin, the entire town must know. Go along now. Ill see t the children if youre not back by breakfast.
Caitlin nodded, ran down the stairs, out of the house, and into the waiting truck. Without a word she opened the door and climbed in. The man at the wheel was visibly nervous.
I thought wed have another week at least, he said, but shes breathin hard and waxin.
Caitlin shrugged and stared out the window, her mind on what was most likely happening inside the stable. What did the vet say?
Davy Flynn didnt answer immediately. She knew it was her accent that he couldnt get past. Except for a certain husky timbre, Caitlin sounded nothing like herself. Fourteen years in America had nearly erased all the Irish from her voice. Her accent wasnt the only change. It was something much more subtle than that. She recognized it even if Davy didnt. She wasnt the same Caitlin Keneally whod left Ireland fourteen years before. Education, sophistication, and more money than the blue-collar inhabitants of Kilcullen would see in a lifetime had left their mark.
Hes at the Grange, Davy said at last. Mrs. Clarke had an emergency. There was no one else.
Caitlin turned. Are you saying that he doesnt even know
Kentucky Gold
is foaling?
Not yet, replied Davy grimly.
I thought a resident veterinarian was one of the benefits of keeping a mare at the stud farm?
For Christs sake, Caitie, what was the man to do? There was no one else to go.
She stared straight ahead silently acknowledging the reasonableness of his argument. Im sorry, Davy, she said at last. Im just nervous. What about Brian Hennessey? Does he know?
Brians still not back from the auction, Davy said stoically, refusing to criticize his superior.
Caitlin let out a long breath. Well then, I suppose its up to us.
Davys eyes left the road to stare incredulously at the woman across the bench seat from him.
Caitlin knew him well enough to read the thoughts running through his mind. Davy Flynn, a groom at the Curragh Stud Farm, had known her since she was born. He was wondering when that wild streak he remembered from her youth, the one that shed tempered slightly after marriage and motherhood, would resurrect itself. What Davy Flynn didnt realize was that Caitie Keneally was gone forever. She
Three weeks later, without the anesthetizing affect of a pint of bourbon straight up, Sam Claiborne had good reason for his anger. His lawyer had called with the news that custody battles took time. Meanwhile, Caitlins final riposte was clear, purposeful, and astonishingly well executed. Not only had she sold exactly one half of the mutual funds shed invested and withdrawn half of their joint savings account, but
Kentucky Gold
, the mare he had given his wife for a wedding gift, the dam of three Triple Crown champions recently covered by the champion,
Narraganset
, was on her way to Ireland.
3
Kilcullen, Ireland, six weeks later
C aitlin woke to a loud banging on the door. Groggily she opened her eyes and focused on the glowing hands of her alarm clock. Dawn was still three hours away. The mare must be in foal. Adrenalin surged through her and she was instantly completely awake. Throwing aside the duvet, she reached for the jeans and sweatshirt she had left hanging over the back of a chair, walked to the long window and threw open the sash. An icy blast of wind cut her face like a knife. She shouted out the window. Im coming, Davy. The knocking subsided.
Within minutes she was ready, her mass of curls twisted and controlled in a claw clip, her jacket zipped, a denim tote bag slung over her shoulder. She paused long enough to walk down the long hall to peek into her mothers room.
Brigid was awake. Im off, Caitlin whispered.
Kentucky
Gold
is foaling.
Brigid sniffed and sat up. Why are you botherin t tell me? With himself poundin and shoutin, the entire town must know. Go along now. Ill see t the children if youre not back by breakfast.
Caitlin nodded, ran down the stairs, out of the house, and into the waiting truck. Without a word she opened the door and climbed in. The man at the wheel was visibly nervous.
I thought wed have another week at least, he said, but shes breathin hard and waxin.
Caitlin shrugged and stared out the window, her mind on what was most likely happening inside the stable. What did the vet say?
Davy Flynn didnt answer immediately. She knew it was her accent that he couldnt get past. Except for a certain husky timbre, Caitlin sounded nothing like herself. Fourteen years in America had nearly erased all the Irish from her voice. Her accent wasnt the only change. It was something much more subtle than that. She recognized it even if Davy didnt. She wasnt the same Caitlin Keneally whod left Ireland fourteen years before. Education, sophistication, and more money than the blue-collar inhabitants of Kilcullen would see in a lifetime had left their mark.
Hes at the Grange, Davy said at last. Mrs. Clarke had an emergency. There was no one else.
Caitlin turned. Are you saying that he doesnt even know
Kentucky Gold
is foaling?
Not yet, replied Davy grimly.
I thought a resident veterinarian was one of the benefits of keeping a mare at the stud farm?
For Christs sake, Caitie, what was the man to do? There was no one else to go.
She stared straight ahead silently acknowledging the reasonableness of his argument. Im sorry, Davy, she said at last. Im just nervous. What about Brian Hennessey? Does he know?
Brians still not back from the auction, Davy said stoically, refusing to criticize his superior.
Caitlin let out a long breath. Well then, I suppose its up to us.
Davys eyes left the road to stare incredulously at the woman across the bench seat from him.
Caitlin knew him well enough to read the thoughts running through his mind. Davy Flynn, a groom at the Curragh Stud Farm, had known her since she was born. He was wondering when that wild streak he remembered from her youth, the one that shed tempered slightly after marriage and motherhood, would resurrect itself. What Davy Flynn didnt realize was that Caitie Keneally was gone forever. She
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