The Heavenly Fugitive Read Free

when she was a little mite.” Tony grinned. He stood up and hugged his wife. “She’ll be all right, dear. I won’t let her ride the mare until O’Connor says she’s ready. You should have seen her just now. She’s so happy.”
    Maria reached up and touched his cheek, and when he kissed her, she said reluctantly, “You’re so sweet, Tony, but I worry about Rosa. She’s quite spoiled, you know. A spoiled brat, really.”
    “Why, you shouldn’t say that, honey.”
    “She is, Tony! She’s had everything she ever wanted. You can never refuse her anything.”
    “Well, what’s money for if not to make you and the kids happy? I only wish you wanted something for yourself. You never ask me for anything.”
    “I don’t need anything, and Rosa has too much. Someday,” Maria said quietly, “she’s going to want something you can’t buy for her.”
    Tony snorted. “Why, money buys everything!”
    Maria shook her head but did not answer. “I hope you’ll talk to O’Connor,” she said as she turned to leave. “Tell him to be extra careful.”
    “Okay. I’ll give him the straight talk.” Morino smiled and sat back down at his desk. He couldn’t concentrate on his work, however. His mind was filled with the pleasure of giving his daughter the purebred Arabian. Staring out the window, he daydreamed of seeing his lovely little Rosa bringing home trophies in all the riding shows.
    ****
    As soon as Rosa darted out the door and caught sight of the truck pulling the horse trailer, she ran toward it full speed, her hair flying out behind her. She scarcely glanced at the young man who had gotten out of the truck and now stood beside the trailer. Her eyes were all for the horse, and she peered in through the windows, admiring the mare’s sleek coat. She smiled at the large eyes that watched her in return—rather wickedly, Rosa thought.
    She cried out, “Oh, you beauty, and you’re all mine!” She turned to the man and said impatiently, “Well, don’t just stand there! Get my horse out!”
    “I’m supposed to see somebody named O’Connor first,” Phil said.
    “He’s not here. I’ll sign for it.”
    She moved to the back of the trailer and snapped her fingers impatiently, but when the driver only looked at her andmade no move to open it, she said, “Didn’t you hear me? I said open the door and bring my horse out!”
    “I’m sorry, miss. I can’t do that. I have to have an adult here. Is O’Connor around?”
    Rosa’s dark eyes flashed. She had little time for hired help, and now she marched over and snatched the clipboard out of the young man’s hand. “Look,” she said, pointing to the paper with a superior air. “Anthony Morino—that’s my father. He ordered this horse for me. Now just unload her and be on your way. Give me a pencil. I’ll sign for it.”
    Phil made no attempt to remove the pencil that was behind his ear. He looked down at the attractive young woman whose beauty, he thought, was considerably marred by her spoiled attitude. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do it, miss.”
    “I’m Rosa Morino, and this is my horse!”
    “I’m sure that’s true, Miss Morino, but—”
    “Look, you see the name of this horse? I gave it to her myself. It’s Boa-ad-ecah.”
    Rosa was surprised when the deliveryman laughed. “What are you laughing at?” she snapped.
    “Well, I don’t think you pronounced it quite right.”
    “What are you talking about? There it is right there! Boadicea. She’s named after a queen from Egypt, and I guess I know how to say my own horse’s name!”
    Phil found himself enjoying the confrontation with the young woman. She was as pretty as a girl could be and had more spirit than the mare, if that were possible, but he could not help wanting to put her in her place. “Just two things wrong with that, Miss Morino. The name is pronounced Boo-dee-kuh, and she wasn’t an Egyptian queen. She was from a tribe in Britain, the Iceni. When the Romans attacked her