O'Brien's Lady - By Marsha Doss Page 0,21

them, so what could it be? Her eyes scanned the figures on the printed form, and then her mouth flew open.

Holding the paper in front of her, Sonny quickly dialed the number in Kentucky. Her heart raced as she heard the staccato rhythm of the ringing at the other end of the line. Her breath quickened when a high-pitched voice answered.

"Is this George Crescent?" she asked politely.

"Yes ma'am, what can I do for you?"

"This is Sondra Mead of Pinebrook Farm in California."

"Nice to meet you Miss Mead."

Sonny tried to disguise her impatience. "Thank you. I'm calling about your invoice number 20893. It shows that you sold a horse to us for a sizable amount of money."

The voice at the other end sparked with sudden

recognition. "Yes. Bright Promise."

"Bright Promise?" Sonny questioned.

"A real buy. That filly can run."

"I'm sure he can Mr. Crescent. But tell me, did a young man talk with you about this transaction?"

"Nice young man. Met him two weeks ago at the auction. He made the deal."

Sonny's heart had started to trace patterns in her breast as it flipped from side to side.

"Thank you. I was just checking with you on this." Sonny hoped her explanation would suffice.

"All right. Good day, ma'am."

Sonny slammed the receiver down and then picked it up again. Her fingers began dialing and then she changed her mind.

"I'll see to this one in person," she said out loud.

With the invoice clutched in her hand, she hurried down to the stables. The rocks and uneven terrain of the path made it difficult to walk, and her ankle turned under her. She swore under her breath, and kept going. It was time she put Michael O'Brien in his proper place.

Michael glanced up and saw Sonny coming down the hill, and he couldn't stop staring. As out of place as she looked in her tailored suit and black patent heels, Sonny was an extraordinarily beautiful woman.

"What's this?" she shouted as she waved the paper that was clutched in her hand.

"Don't know. Can't see it from here."

Sonny thrust the invoice at him, and watched his reaction.

"So? What's the problem?" Michael asked after looking at the paper.

"Don't be coy. Why did you buy this horse without my permission?" She was distressed by his aloof manner.

"Since when do I need your permission, Sonny?"

"We're partners. Or have you forgotten that Michael?"

"How can I, when you won't let me? I bought that horse because she can run and she'll be used for breeding later on."

Sonny could not believe Michael's arrogance and assumption that he could spend the farm's money on any horse he thought might win a few races. She had thought him to be a little more professional than this, and his blatant flagrancy surprised her.

"We have enough horses in case you haven't noticed. "

"That shows how little you know about the business. Why don't you leave these decisions to me from now on?" Michael's smile was meant to be reassuring, but it only insited more anger in Sonny.

She had known from the start that Michael wanted Pinebrook and this action was just proving her correct. For all she knew he could be purchasing Thoroughbreds that he would insist on keeping for himself at the end of the six months.

"I know all about this place I care to know, and this ridiculous price proves you can't make level-headed decisions, Michael."

As Sonny's nose tipped upward, Michael's mouth became firm with the anger he felt. "Your father always found good runners at auctions. That's what keeps this place alive. Bright Promise is a strong filly and she'll be ready in three or four weeks."

"So, you have single-handedly appointed yourself as the head of Pinebrook." Her blue eyes were ablaze with color and her cheeks were beginning to feel warm. There was something in Michael that aroused her temper.

"Someone has to do the job and you're not qualified."

How dare he call her unqualified, when this property was rightfully hers. Even though she had spent very little time on the farm Sonny felt as able as Michael to make decisions. Especially those concerning their bank account.

"I am the farm's only hope for the future, " Michael cut in tersely. "If I left the decisions up to you, we'd be out of business before the six months was over."

"How do you know what I would have done?" Sonny's blue eyes challenged him.

"It's not hard to figure it out. You can't stand working with your hands. You'd rather be mingling with high society." Michael said the word with