1863 Saratoga Summer Page 33

  The internal thoughts cut off abruptly. The crowd’s cheers swelled to a roar of loud approval. The pageantry before them began, and the silky sleek running horses approached. Twenty-seven of them, from fourteen different stables, paraded down Broadway, past the piazzas and porches of the crowded hotels. Everyone shrieked with delight. The noise hurt Sinead’s ears but she watched closely.

  A male, dressed in bright racing costumes, rode each horse. Black and white jockeys struggled to keep their mounts in control. Many of the horses and jockeys had been in the national spotlight throughout the country. The crowd hooted and hollered as the horses passed by them.

  Dressed in a bright shirt, Jonah, Connor’s recently appointed exercise lad, sat atop one of the lesser mounts. Although he would not be racing on Monday, his excited grin broadly flashed the pride he felt at riding one of the horses in the parade.

  The loudest yells of encouragement from the crowd were for the favorites, the most well-known horses of the lot. Captain Moore, a reddish bay colt from New Jersey, considered by many to be the best colt of the year, skittered over the roadway and set most of the other horses to dancing and bucking.

  Lizzie W, a dark bay mare, caused the crowd to swell forward, trying to touch her, for luck. Men swarmed toward her, calling her name over and over. Men stationed on the road itself vigorously shoved them back to the tree line.

  Momona, a bay mare of five, from Kentucky, and a record holder at an American mile, seemed to have her own section of fans. She drew gleeful shouts from knowledgeable race devotees. She twirled in place as if she understood the crowd was jubilant about her. Thunder, a four year old gray from Canada, who received his share of greetings, looked around as if bewildered by all the activity.

  Morrissey’s horse in the parade was a four-year-old bay. Having recently bought the animal from John Clay, the Irish fighter renamed it John B. Davidson, either to honor a benefactor or to disguise the horse’s true identity. Only the wisest horsemen, like Connor, Bowes and Harry, knew the difference.

  The spectacle was as the crowd expected. They hooted and screamed out the names of their beloved horses or cherished jockeys. They turned and talked to anyone who would listen. The entire concept was an extravaganza of great magnitude to those fortunate enough to witness it, a ribald event to add to Saratoga’s already glorious history.

  The closer the horses came to the carriage, the tighter Sinead clung to Connor. When the last horse went by, she sighed with relief, hoping her fears were not obvious to everyone. Glad the excitement was over, she was happy to get away. She wanted to be with Connor. Home… Alone… With Connor.

  Slowly, he turned toward her as if drawn by an inexplicable pull. His hands moved to her waist. He threw two quick kisses, one at the inside of each breast, before she could move away. She was stunned at the fluttering sensation. Her nipples instantaneously hardened and rubbed against her dress. Her breath stuck in her throat.

  With a look of longing on his face, Connor drew her head closer and placed a long, lingering kiss on her mouth. Sinead sucked in a breath and his lower lip with it. She was shocked at his behavior in front of such crowds and even more shocked at her own reaction, her sudden disregard for others. It was as if the people around them vanished, and Connor and she were alone.

  Bowes interrupted the moment. Trying desperately not to chortle at their dilemma or his daughter’s flushed face, he coughed loudly several times. He cleared his throat. “Er…”

  In an attempt to get their attention, Pegeen stood beside Bowes, pretending to cough as well. “We have something we’d like to tell you…”

  “Aye,” murmured Sinead, finally catching her breath enough to make a sound.

  Bowes poked Pegeen in the side. He nodded to the young couple who could barely look at anything but each other. “I see,” she said. “Trust me. ’Tis for the good.”

  Bowes leaped off the seat, helped Pegeen down and moved to the carriage steps, nearly knocking Connor aside in the doing of it. “’Tis not of any importance at the moment. We’ll stop out tomorrow to visit.”

  “Aye,” Sinead answered, barely hearing a word anyone said.

  “Pegeen and I are going out on the town. Ye’re welcome to join us.” While he spoke, Bowes helped Pegeen down the steps to the road. The two stood by the side of the carriage, waiting for an answer.

  Connor stared at Sinead, letting her make the decision but fearful of the answer. Held spellbound by her gaze, he was unable to remove his hands from her waist. In turn, she fell into the liquid pool his eyes created and answered with a force of sheer energy.

  “I think we’ll be going home. There are still some horses on the property, and probably some of the others will be coming back in tonight. It would be better if I were there.” Connor seemed to ramble on. “And I’m sure Sinead will want to check on young Rob.” Some heavy-lidded, sensual expression made his words sound contrary.

  Alarmed by the strength of her feelings, Sinead’s tense muscles suddenly unknotted, and tears made her eyes shiny. Expectant, she willed anxiety away.

  “Harry, do you mind taking us back to the farm so early? You can come back into town after, if you like.” Connor barely raised his voice, still staring at Sinead.

  “No, Con, I’m not minding, for sure. In fact, with all the noise here, ‘tis about ready I am to be turning in meself.” He turned slightly in his seat. “We’ll just be takin’ a leisurely drive past the lake on our way. Give us a fair chance to rest the grays from the excitement of the evening.”

  “Thanks, Harry…” Connor settled Sinead in the back seat and sat next to her, his arm draped over her shoulder. “Are you comfortable, lass?”

  “Aye…”

  Harry clucked to the horses and moved them from the line-up of other carriages. At the corner, he crossed Broadway and headed toward the lake road.

  Sinead shivered, thinking, hoping, and rethinking what might happen tonight. Is it worth it, she wondered. He’d be going back to Ireland and going without her. If he stayed, it would be torture for him, but she wanted him so badly now, she’d risk most anything…anything, but Robbie. Just thinking of letting the child go sent a wave of nausea coursing through her. The whole arrangement of circumstances was a sin against hope.

  “Are you cold?”

  “Not really.”

  Nevertheless, Connor removed his broadcloth jacket. “Here. Put this over your shoulders. It’ll give a wee bit of warmth once we get lakeside,” he said in a hushed voice.

  “Thank you, Con.”

  He chuckled, squeezed her shoulder then lightly rubbed it. “I believe, madam, ‘tis the first time you called me Con.”

  “I hear men say it all the time.” Sinead couldn’t think of another thing to say. She leaned back and tried to make her breathing sound even, as if sleeping. She quickly realized it wouldn’t work.

  The carriage barely made the turn onto Union Avenue when Connor’s lips met hers. Her heart rate increased, It pounded in her chest, in the groove of her neckline. A roar started in her head and grew louder with each clop of the horses’ hooves on the road. The excitement she felt knew few bounds. This was so unlike her.

  “Hey Harry,” young Jonah called from the side of the road.

  Connor and Sinead pulled away from each other like two children caught in a foolish battle. Neither had heard a horse approaching. “Jonah…”

  “Hello Ma’am. Con. The owner of this horse wants to put the beastie in our stable until the race on Monday.”

  “What did you tell him?” Con asked.

  “I didn’t think you’d mind, since we have open stalls in the second barn and can keep him separated from the other horses.”

  “Good enough. We’ve got the room,” Connor said in a businesslike tone. “We’ll be leaving the gate to the lower road open and set out lanterns. Be careful, going into a strange area. You have a young horse under you.”

  Harry spoke up. “Con, I’ll do the gate and all. I’ll be waiting for the laddie
down by the gate, in case the horse acts up. And I’ll be checking the other horses as well. If anything’s wrong, I’ll be calling ye quick as a hare.”

  “Aye, Harry. ‘Tis good of you, for sure. About time I trusted me own men to do their jobs. Just be careful with the colt there, Jonah. Don’t let playing tricks get the best of you.”

  “I’ll be careful. I promise. He’s a nice mount. Kinda’ quiet.”

  “Be careful he doesn’t surprise.” Harry picked up the reins and sent the grays forward.

  No sooner than the horses moved, Connor curled Sinead in waiting arms and bent to her mouth again. This time he delved deeper, tickling her tongue with the tip of his own. The response thrilled him. If he continued this on the way home, taking whatever liberties he could, he wondered if she be ready and willing for the final act?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Parts of Saratoga Lake encircled by trees lay covered by a soft mist. It crept over the rippling water, creating gentle pictures weaving in and out of the shore like threads of gossamer. Velvet blackness, lit only by a hovering full moon sliding behind an occasional thin cloud, drew a deep breath from Connor. He was further soothed by the steady hoof beats of the two carriage horses.

  Moonlight reflected off Sinead’s lips after his mouth left hers. The romantic scene suited and filled his mind with images of what was hopefully to come. The suspense of the conquest of this woman was to be savored and enjoyed. Sinead’s graceful, delicate neck, stretched and opened to his lips, was tempting. He was about to kiss its creamy expanse but stopped his mouth’s progress.

  Harry swung the carriage off the lake road onto the main road to the property. The road looped and curved like a silvery skeleton in the dim light. The broken rhythm of the grays jarred. They pranced a bit, sensing the closeness to home, where food, shelter and rest were in the offing. Harry controlled them, brought them back to a slow trot and drove on with an expertise surpassing Bowes’.

  “Harry,” Connor mumbled, his voice hoarse and gravelly with lingering passion, “take the horses down onto the lower road. Leave the gate open for Jonah. Bed these two down well. They’ve worked hard since they’ve been here and, from what Bowes told me, this was their holiday for the year.”

  “I’ll be doing it, Connor lad, but don’t…”

  Connor cleared his throat. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial level. “Sinead and I will walk up to the house. A bit of fresh air will do us both good,” Connor said softly, wondering if he could stand upright with the tight erection pushing away at his trousers.

  He winced with pain, struggling to control urges. In the well-enlightened landscape of his mind, everything centered on his groin and its gratifying fullness. Never had a woman excited him more.

  Sinead was warm, loving and strong of spirit. Her interest in culmination of this night was immense, yet innocently adventurous. She tantalized and maddened him until he felt quivery with the force of lust. Not wanting to ruin the eagerness she displayed, Connor determined not to hurry her. A walk by the creek might give him time to cool.

  Harry stopped the carriage at the darkened lower barn. He leaped from the driver’s bench to loosen some of the attached harnesses from the vehicle. Connor stood, adjusted himself the best he could and stepped from the carriage in a bound.

  He turned in time to help Sinead, who tripped on her skirt and fell into his arms. “Well, Missus O’Malley, don’t you think you’re being a bit forward here? For sure, you’re trying to entice me from my innocence.”

  Harry chortled but kept about his business.

  Embarrassed, Sinead pushed away from Connor and tried to be humorous. “Get on with ye, O’Malley. Leave me be.”

  The tone was far more serious than he expected. “Well now, missus, will you be walking with me, down to the creek? There’s a fine rock just waiting for us to sit for a spell.”

  Connor reached over, took her hand and gave it a slight tug. “Come, lass. ‘Tis but a short step from here. The breeze will cool our tempers some.”

  “Tempers?” Harry muttered to himself before snickering.

  “What, Harry?” Connor asked, knowing full well the man made a mocking comment. He shook his head, figuring it was a remark meant for the male of the species. Such remarks were expected from friends.

  “Nothing, boss. Just a whisper to one of the animals here…”

  “Aye, ‘tis sure I am, friend.”

  Connor laughed and pulled Sinead along a walkway the workers had fashioned out of small stones. The path wound around a copse of birch trees, hiding the creek from view while it bubbled and danced with abandon on its voyage toward the lake.

  Coming out from behind the shadow of the trees, the rock, partially covered by ferns and moss, loomed into view. Its large, flat surface hung over the cool, sparkling liquid of the creek, laughing aloud as it tumbled over the boulders in its path.

  Sinead moved straight to the rock, which clutched the ground with an arm flung above the water. This time, she pulled Connor after her. “Och, Connor, the moon is so bright. Each time it passes a cloud in its way, it acts like some sassy wench winking at her fellow.”

  He breathed in sharply, took the remark as a boon and turned her toward him. “Are you intending to be my sassy wench?”

  A blush moved from bare throat to face. She laughed and gave him a big wink, her mouth wide in a grin. “Was it sassy enough, husband?” she asked, winking again and again, first with one eye then the other.

  She stopped in mid-wink. “Or is this better?” Her arms slid around his neck, and she stepped into his embrace. Standing on tiptoes, she initiated a kiss, lips open a smidgen, inviting.

  Desire coursed through Connor, sharp as the cutting edge of a scythe. He lifted her to press hard against his body. Within seconds, the kiss deepened. They couldn’t get enough. Mouth groped with mouth, angling for position. Tongue fought with tongue, tasting, dueling for supremacy, neither or both being the winner.

  Connor’s initial erection magnified to a throbbing degree. His breathing grew erratic. Sinead gasped for air. A moan escaped the warmed and open lips.

  Connor went to his knees on hard stone and drew her with him, closer to where the rock protruded over the water. He lowered her gently onto a patch of moss. Still kneeling on the rough surface, his lips traveled all over her face up to her ears.

  Heat rippled through him. “You are the most beautiful woman I know…” His arm cradled her shoulders.

  A childish pout curled a corner of her lip. She muttered, “Have you known that many, Connor?” The question came from some deep-seated worry, although she lay back on the carpet of moss and his arm. She stared at the stars blinking from their lofty perch.

  Connor settled himself on one hip and an elbow. He stared down at the beautiful face beneath him. “How many women I might or might not have known matters not. You are lovely, a true beauty, inside and out.” He lightly kissed her mouth.

  “Sinead, I want you to know I understand your devoted protection of young Rob. I’ve come to love the sweetness, the innocence. I also see what the Dewitts are about, their veiled threats. I want to protect you and the lad.” He paused for a moment, considering. “I sense there’s something the Dewitts desire even more than their grandson at their side.”

  “Connor, I’m frightened.” She looked small and sad. “I’ve come to rely on you so much of late. My heart will break if you return to Ireland or seek some other woman. I know I haven’t pleased you the way a man likes to be pleased, but I’m afraid…”

  His naked gaze afforded ample fire with which to destroy or claim her. “What are you afraid of? The act of mating?”

  Sinead sat straight up, nearly knocking him over. “Nae, I truly believe the act is a simple thing. Or so I’ve been told. ‘Tis the other possibilities in life.”

  “What? I don’t understand you.” Connor sat up and examined her dour expression in the dim light.

  “Connor, what if we mated and I carried your child? It would leave
two children without a father.” A shuddering breath made her lower lip tremble. “Have you given any thought to the possible occurrence?”

  The anger beginning to rise in Sinead’s voice took him aback. Nothing was on his mind this night but the planned seduction. He tried to ignore what the words and tone of voice did to him. He concentrated on the lusty intentions but felt them slipping out of his grasp. A child of his without a father?

  Sinead stood up. “I’ve loved kissing you, loving you, however little was accomplished to your satisfaction.”

  She brushed the skirt of her dress, surprised to find clingy moss refusing to let go. “I think I’ll retire for the night. I’m so sorry to disappoint you yet again, Connor, but I can’t take the chance of you leaving me with another child to care for and no man.” She stepped off the rock and walked through the copse of birches, holding on to each tree as she passed it.

  Forlornly, Connor followed behind her. “Let me see you to the house. I’ll stay in the tents. I have some serious thinking to do.”

  “Aye, Connor, I believe ye do have serious thinking to do.”

  Out in the open field, Sinead spun around to face him. “I cannot go to Ireland. I cannot take Robbie away from his natural grandparents, however bad they seem to you or me. They sustained the two of us since Robert Cavanaugh’s death, and they do deserve some remembrance of the daughter they loved so dearly.”

  With dogged persistence, Connor grasped her arms and drew her closer to him, wondering how he possibly could explain his feelings without hurting. “But they don’t want you, Sinead.” Her eyes closed with uncertainty, her expressive face distraught.

  She stared at him for a long moment, shook herself loose from his grasp but stood directly in front of him. The silence between them lengthened. In that silence, worlds of communication sped through them, touching each with dramatic fingers.

  “Neither do you, Connor O’Malley. Neither do you…” Her eyes filled with tears. “You don’t want me either…”