IRISH FIRE by Jeanette Baker Page A

welcome as well, Brian.
    I will, Caitlin promised and fell into step beside the lean, black-haired young man who made her uncomfortable in a way she couldnt quite explain. The silence deepened, became awkward, then embarrassing. Frantically, she searched for something to say. Where are you from, Mr. Hennessey? she said at last.
    Inishmore.
    She looked puzzled. Where on the Aran Islands did you learn about thoroughbreds?
    His hands were deep in his pockets. I thought we were on a first name basis.
    Youre the one who called me Mrs. Claiborne. The wind whipped a strand of hair across her cheek. She pulled it away.
    Im thirty-four years old, Caitlin, plenty of time to leave Inishmore and learn about thoroughbreds.
    My father was from the islands.
    Brians head was down, against the wind. She saw the quick lifting of the corner of his mouth. Was he now?
    Caitlin nodded. So they say. He died before I was born.
    Im sorry, lass, he said gently.
    It was a long time ago.
    His lips twitched. An eternity.
    Startled, she looked up at him. Youre making fun of me.
    His eyes twinkled. You asked for it.
    How?
    They stopped in the street to face each other.
    Your melodrama for one thing.
    Her cheeks burned. You arent very polite, Brian Hennessey.
    His eyes narrowed to thin blue lines. If its polite you want, Caitlin Claiborne, youre on your way to see the right man.
    She turned away and continued walking. What have you got against Martin?
    Brian looked genuinely astonished. Nothin at all. Did I give you the impression I had?
    He had or she wouldnt have noticed. Not really.
    Brian caught her arm. Caitlin. Just so theres no misunderstandin. Martin OShea is the best friend I have in the world.
    Caitlin stared at him. There was no mistaking his sincerity. Was he warning her? Im not surprised, she said softly. He was mine, too.

7

    H e was out of his league. Brian knew it as surely as he knew the daily schedule of races on opening day at the Curragh. Caitlin Claiborne not only had the look of a woman used to very dark coffee served in tiny cups on the private terrace of an expensive villa, she obviously had depths he couldnt begin to probe. She was also very skilled at hiding what was on her mind, a lethal combination where women were concerned. He wondered if she saw herself the same way Martin saw her, or if the two of them viewed their mutual past with their own unique set of blinders.
    They walked in silence past the ornamental gardens, crossed behind the paddock, and continued down the long road to the Tully Walk where the foaling stable stood apart, protected on all sides by green meadowlands. The door was open. Inside, peering into
Kentucky Gold
s stall with Martin OShea between them, were Caitlins children.
    In unison, the three of them turned toward the entrance as Caitlin walked in. Brian stepped back into the shadows without speaking, preferring not to participate in the reunion of two old friends.
    Mama. Bens voice was reverent. Hes so pretty. Annie said we could name him.
    You said so, Mama, Annie piped up. You said Daddy wouldnt mind.
    Caitlin was silent. Brian watched as her gaze met Martins. He didnt know what he was looking for, a connection perhaps, disappointment that the real person didnt live up to Martins memory. He held his breath. Seconds passed. Nothing happened. Slowly, he exhaled.
    Welcome home, Caitie, Martin said softly.
    Thank you, Martin. Its good to be home.
    Martin laughed nervously and spread his hands. Well, what do you think?
    She said nothing for a long moment. Finally, You look wonderful in black.
    This time they laughed together and the tension lifted.
    Can we get past the clothes? Martin pleaded.
    Caitlin reached out and hugged him briefly. Ill manage. Lord, Martin. You really did it.
    Annies words cut through the tension between them. Mama, look at the colt.
    In a minute, Annie.
    Brian stepped into the brightness thrown by the skylight. He extended his hand first to Annie and then to Ben. Im Brian Hennessey,