Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
It was the sprite of a girl with flaming red hair and summer green eyes that had it.
Fiona Conlan.
She’d tamed that wild mane into a long braid and had a riding helmet tucked under one arm. Gone were her wellies and instead she wore riding boots.
I knew the woman could ride, but the fact she was heading toward us, toward the steeplechase with such determination, made me look at her in a different light.
I could see the proud lift of her chin, the confidence in how she moved, and my stomach tightened in a way I didn’t particularly appreciate.
Pretty girls were a strong interest of mine but only to have fun with.
Fiona Conlan was stirring up feelings unknown to me, most importantly that of genuine interest in what was going on inside that beautiful head of hers.
Rory chuckled under his breath. “Speaking of fearless riders…”
I pulled my regard from her, clearing my throat. “She’s ridin’ the course?”
“Aye,” Rory replied, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “Her da’s away this afternoon, so we’re sneakin’ her on.”
I arched a brow at the subterfuge because Seamus Conlan didn’t seem like a man you’d want to fuck around with. “Her father doesn’t approve, I take it.”
Rory grimaced. “Not in the slightest. Thinks this is not fittin’ for a lady.”
Rory was Seamus’s brother, so I was confused. “But you help her anyway.”
Rory shrugged, unrepentant. “I do. Someone has to help the girl pursue her dreams, yeah?”
I turned back to Fiona and watched as she glanced up at the horse, whispering something to him. His ears flicked back and forth and he shied sideways in what looked to be pent-up energy and excitement. I was having a hard time fathoming her on that animal, jumping over objects at a flat-out gallop.
“Gonna take her to Kildare tomorrow, let her race against real competition,” Rory said, and my attention went back to him.
“Kildare?”
“They have a steeplechase course and offer free runs with other riders on Sundays. I’ll have ye come along to help out.”
My lips quirked. “Yeah? You looking for an extra set of hands or just someone to make sure she doesn’t kill herself?”
Rory chuckled. “A bit of both, maybe.”
Not sure why this caused me a pang of angst, but I found myself pushing back. “And it’s safe for her to do that?”
“Oh, there’s nothing safe about this sport, lad.”
Jaw sagging a bit, I asked, “Shouldn’t you be protecting her? You’re letting her do something that could lend her a broken neck or her father strangling her.”
Rory glanced at me, amused. “So, what’s this now? Ye askin’ about Fiona’s ridin’ skills or somethin’ else?”
Not sure what in the hell I was asking. “Her father just seems a bit… domineering.”
“Aye… that he is.”
“He’s arranging a marriage for her,” I pointed out.
Rory grimaced and I was relieved to see in that one expression he didn’t agree with his brother on that. “Seamus wants to merge farms, and Brian Kavanagh is the price.”
“And you’re going to stand by while that happens?” I asked incredulously.
He shot me a sharp look. “Ye got an interest in the matter, Blackburn?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Just curious.”
Rory smirked, seeing right through me. “Aye, well, do me a favor and keep yer hands to yerself, yeah?”
I couldn’t tell if he was jesting or if he’d be the type of uncle who would tear me to pieces for looking a little too long at his niece.
Probably the latter, but Fiona might’ve been worth the risk.
I wouldn’t admit that to him though, so I held up my hands in mock innocence. “These hands are here just to work.”
Rory shook his head, muttering something under his breath before turning back to Fiona who had reached us.
Her expressive green eyes passed over me to take in the jump we just shored up.
“Good day, lads,” she said easily, glancing between us. “How’s the work goin’?”
“Your uncle is a hard taskmaster,” I replied, and Rory snorted. “Been learning a lot though.”
She arched a brow. “Aye? And what’ve ye learned?”
“That steeplechase riders are insane.”
Her head tipped back and there was no tinkling laugh coming from the Irish lass. It was a full-on bark of gusto. “Took ye long enough to figure that out.”
Rory chuckled and gestured toward her horse. “Brannagh ready?”
She nodded, her expression morphing into one of serious determination as she put on her helmet. “We did a good warm-up in the back field. He’s ready to fly.”
Rory took the reins while Fiona buckled her head protection and I stepped forward, offering my hands. “Need a leg up?”
She eyed me for a moment, then nodded.
I crouched slightly, interlacing my fingers. Fiona planted her boot in my grip and one hand went to my shoulder. Her touch was firm and assured, and I liked that confidence about her. It was an easy lift of her slight frame and she swung into the saddle with natural grace.