Purebred

by Patricia Rosemoor

  He assumed the dream would be the same for the breeder. Isn’t that why Cat made the deal with them? She wanted Mac to cover her broodmares and perhaps give her the next generation of winners. He’d felt that spark burn in her at their first meeting.

  Would she sell the foals? he wondered. Or did she have dreams of racing them herself? Not unheard of if she had the finances to do so.

  Cat stopped in the aisle. “I’m going this way.” She indicated a direction away from Mac’s box stall. “Would you like to meet Dean? You never know when he might be looking for a new trainer or know another owner who’s looking to hire someone.”

  “Aye, thank you.”

  Another way to make some necessary money, Aidan thought. Kind of Cat to help him outside of their contract. He’d come to America not knowing what to expect from her, and while she did seem too much on edge, he suspected she had good reason. He thought she really was a caring sort, as he’d heard when she’d spoken of her missing barn manager. He needed to revise his thinking a bit, not be so uptight around her. Her intentions were good, and she’d gotten Mac and him here. He had to trust she had the financial assets to carry through. Perhaps that was why she hesitated hiring more help. A matter of budget.

  Perhaps if he relaxed, he could more easily control what the dream had foretold.

  He followed Cat down a side aisle and toward the back, where a silver-haired man—Dean Hill, he assumed—was deep in conversation with Raul. Both men appeared intense, as if they were arguing about something.

  Was there a problem with the mare?

  Then the client looked up to see them coming and dismissed Raul, who quickly headed for the back of the barn.

  “Ah, Cat, there you are,” Hill said. “I just came to check on Fairy Tail.”

  “She has seemed fine all day.”

  “She looks good, and Raul said her appetite is normal,” Dean said, his dark gaze zeroing in on Aidan. “New client?”

  “New partner, new venture,” Cat said. “Dean, this is Aidan McKenna, one of Ireland’s best trainers.”

  Aidan started at the unexpected compliment and held out a hand to Hill. The man was younger than his silver hair indicated, perhaps in his early forties. His narrow face was smooth but for a few crinkles at the outside corner of his brown eyes.

  Dean looked him up and down before taking the offered hand. “McKenna…that’s familiar.”

  Aidan noted the other man’s fierce grip as they shook. His was trim but muscular. “My brother Cashel and I are trainers. We own McKenna Racing. A few years back, we had a horse place in the Arlington Million.” And with their share of the winnings, they’d had enough money to buy an exceptional filly they had trained from the owners they worked for. Plus they’d been able to pay an exorbitant stud fee to get Mac.

  “So you’re what?” Hill asked. “Expanding to the U.S.?”

  “Something like that, at least for the racing season.”

  “And at least one breeding season,” Cat added. “That’s where I come into the partnership.” She stepped back. “Excuse me while I look in on Fairy Tail.”

  “Good, good,” Dean said without taking his eyes off Aidan.

  Odd that the man didn’t follow Cat into the stall, Aidan thought. When Mac’s dam, Bold Lass, was being bred, he’d wanted to know every detail of everything that was going on. Then again, the owner did have eleven mares. Perhaps he’d had too much experience to want to know every detail.

  “So what are your immediate plans?” Hill asked.

  “To run my colt in some upcoming graded stakes races.”

  “Your colt. You mean you train him.”

  “And own him, as well. My brother Cashel and I bought his dam and bred her.”

  “So you’re expanding the business,” Hill said.

  “In this one case. I’m a trainer at heart,” Aidan admitted. “I’m more interested in training colts and fillies to win than in producing foals.”

  “Why bring him here to run him on dirt?”

  “That’s the grand challenge. Mac Finnian is faster on dirt than he is on grass.”

  Hill’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, well, he’ll probably be running against one of my colts eventually. I have a training farm just down the road, and I have a couple of colts who are ready for the right race. I’ll have to keep an eye on you.”

  Before Aidan could question him about which colt, which race, Cat left the broodmare’s stall saying, “Fairy Tail looks good.”

  Hill gave her a once-over, as if meeting her for the first time. “As do you, dear Cat. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in such elegant splendor.”

  Cat laughed. “What? Muck-covered jeans and sweatshirts aren’t elegant?”

  “You’re a natural beauty, no matter what you wear.”

  Aidan listened to the interchange in silence. Considering how charming Hill was being, he must be taken with Cat. Aidan didn’t blame him. The fine-looking lass had invaded his dreams, after all. “Glad to meet you, Hill. I need to see to my colt now.”

  “And I need to get going. I have some business to take care of myself.” The man focused back on Cat. “I’m confident that together, we’re going to produce a spectacular crop of foals next spring.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Two down and nine to go.” Hill indicated Fairy Tail. “Or perhaps it’s three and eight.”

  Aidan started to move off.

  “Hopefully. And hopefully the first foal born will be a champion,” Cat said, then called, “Aidan, wait up.” She rushed to catch up to him. “I would like to check on Mac myself.”

  There was a touch of possessiveness in her tone that made Aidan clench his jaw. He told himself that she simply wanted to see to the colt’s welfare now that he was in her barn, and he couldn’t fault her for that.

  Horses along the aisle hung out their heads as they passed. Aidan patted every one on his side and noted that Cat did the same on the other. Her love for horses was evident in her gentle touch and in the soft murmurings with which she greeted each mare. All twelve box stalls in the aisle were in use.

  “So all of these are Hill’s mares, and two of them already pregnant.”

  “That kind of surprised me, too, that both got pregnant in their first season. We’ll see about Fairy Tail. Another of Dean’s mares is about to ovulate, as well. The vet’ll palpate her tomorrow to see if she’s ready to meet False Promise.”

  “This lad?” he asked, when they reached the end of the aisle where a blood bay stallion with a white star on his forehead dozed in his stall.

  Aidan stopped at the door to take a better look. Cat stopped next to him, too close for his comfort. Her arm brushing his left a swath of heat shooting through him.

  “That’s Dean’s champion,” she confirmed.

  “Aye, he’s a handsome lad. He should sire some grand foals.”

  “Fingers crossed. I have other clients, too. They share the aisle on the other side of the barn. Right now, only eight of the stalls are in use. Martin Bradley brought in four of his broodmares and his own stallion from his farm,” she said, mindful of Jack’s threat to bring in the horses she used to own, as well. “My own horses—six mares, a stallion, a teaser and two geldings—are in the middle aisle. Plus Mac,” she added.

  Again she spoke in a possessive tone, as if the colt belonged to her. Aidan fought a twitch of discomfort.

  “Mac won’t be there for long,” he assured her. “The first stakes race is barely two weeks away. We need to get him in a stall at the track so he can start working out there every morning and so I can find a jockey. Unless you’ve already made all the arrangements.”

  “No, of course not. I got the paperwork going, and I planned to take you over there tomorrow, so you can see the facility and the stalls available. How would I know your preference?”

  Aidan told himself to relax already. He didn’t need to go looking for trouble. No matter that he’d feared he’d gone from the frying pan into the fire, Cat wasn�
��t his older brother. She wasn’t making decisions for him as Cashel would.

  “In the meantime, I have a short track opposite the pastures.” She moved away from the stallion. “You can start stretching Mac’s legs tomorrow before we go to the track if you want.”

  “That sounds like a fine idea, though he won’t be breaking any speed records with me on his back.”

  “Just think of how much faster he’ll be when he gets a lightweight jockey.”

  A few seconds later, Aidan heard a man’s deep voice call out, “Cat, you in here?”

  “Over here, Martin,” she called, then lowered her voice. “My other best client.”

  A burly man with unnaturally dark hair, as if it had been dyed, popped out of the far aisle. “We brought Sweetpea Sue a little early.”

  “We?”

  He stepped his aviator glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Simone is putting her in the stall next to Quick Pick.”

  Cat forced a smile. “No problem.”

  “The problem is Quick Pick isn’t pregnant yet.”

  “Quick Pick was a maiden. You need to be patient, Martin. We’ll try again as soon as she goes back in season.”

  A maiden not conceiving in her first season wasn’t unexpected, but Aidan picked up on the strain in Cat’s voice. Was there some reason for her to be nervous?

  Dressed as if she were about to go riding, a lovely blonde stepped next to her father. “What about Abigail Runs? Why isn’t she pregnant?”

  Cat sounded like she was about to choke when she turned to her client. “Martin, are you unhappy about something? You’ve been with me for three years. You know I always do the very best for you.”

  “Hill already has two pregnant mares and this is his first breeding season with you.”

  “Sheer luck. You’re not in a competition. Not here, away from the track. Just give it some time.”

  The man grunted and gave Aidan a once-over. “You the Irishman Jack told me about?”

  “That I would be,” Aidan agreed, holding out his hand. “Aidan McKenna.”

  “Martin Bradley,” the other man said, taking Aidan’s hand and shaking. “My daughter, Simone.”

  Aidan noted how Cat’s jaw clenched.

  He nodded at the blonde. “Miss Bradley.”

  Simone held out her hand, and when Aidan took it, she gave Cat a smug smile. “A pleasure.”

  Aidan sensed Cat’s immediate displeasure.

  She asked, “Martin, are you thinking of bringing in more than the mares we originally discussed?”

  “Where would you get that idea?”

  “Just checking so I can hold open more spots if needed.”

  Aidan thought she sounded relieved.

  “Gotta get going,” Martin said, whirling back the way he came. “C’mon, Simone.”

  The daughter gave Aidan one last look before following.

  Cat called after him. “I’ll let you know when one of your mares comes into season.”

  Aidan felt the tension drain out of her.

  “Do you and Martin not get along?”

  “We get along just fine,” she said in a clipped tone that didn’t convince him. Could be the problem wasn’t the man but his daughter.

  Suddenly a screech filled the air. Aidan started but Cat seemed to loosen up immediately.

  “No need to worry,” she assured him. “Teenagers are rarely quiet.”

  As they rounded the empty box stall at the aisle’s end, he could hear a girl’s indignant voice. “You think you’re so funny, I wonder how you’d look with a shovelful of horse manure on your head!”

  “Let’s not try it to find out!” Cat said, her order followed by silence.

  They turned into the center aisle where Mac Finnian was stabled. Two teenagers—a thin blonde and a husky, dark-haired boy—were squared off. Aidan realized they must be Laura and Vincent, Cat’s part-time workers. Her face flushed, Laura was brushing off her derriere while Vincent tried to hide a grin.

  “Are you working or playing?” Cat asked.

  “Working,” they said in unison.

  “Get to it, then.”

  Laura gave Vincent a shove before grabbing a mucking rake and disappearing into a box stall. Vincent snorted and did the same on the other side of the aisle.

  Cat moved in close and whispered, “Vincent has a crush on Laura. What he doesn’t realize yet is that she has a crush on him, too.”

  When her breast brushed against his arm, Aidan sucked in a quick breath. “’Tis a wonder they get any work done.”

  Cat’s good will disappeared in a snap and she stepped back. Aidan couldn’t read humans in the same way he could horses, but he wasn’t dense. She’d clearly taken that as a criticism. She certainly was on edge with him. He was glad when they got to Mac’s stall, but for once, the colt didn’t stick out his head to greet him. Instead, he paced the small space in a tight circle.

  Immediately concerned, Aidan murmured, “Mac, what’s up with you, lad?”

  The colt stopped short of the door, so Aidan opened it and stepped in, too aware of Cat right behind him. He reached out for the colt, ran a hand up Mac’s cheek to his forehead and then scratched his poll.

  “Is he all right?”

  “He’s nervous, but after what he’s been through the last couple of weeks, that should come as no surprise.”

  Except that it did. Mac was normally settled, unaffected by change or surprises. But there was something about this place that got to him. That made his flesh quiver when touched. Aidan had noticed it earlier when he’d brought the colt inside the barn. Then, too, he’d put the colt’s unease to the strain of the long move.

  Unfortunately, Mac still hadn’t settled down.

  Aidan could sense the colt’s stress as he moved closer and continued to stroke him. No matter that he ran his hands over Mac’s neck and back and chest, Aidan couldn’t read him, couldn’t say why Mac had gotten so rattled. Frowning, he took a peppermint from his pocket, and offered it to the colt. For a moment, he didn’t think Mac would take the candy. His gut tightened. Was Mac sick? Then the colt moved closer and brushed Aidan’s palm with his muzzle and lipped the peppermint before gently taking it with his teeth.

  A sense of relief washed through Aidan until Cat said, “I think I should call Helen. That’s the vet—Helen Fox.”

  “He doesn’t need a vet. He’s not ill.”

  “I can see how concerned you are, Aidan. We can’t let anything happen to him—”

  “I shall decide if and when he needs a veterinarian.”

  They stared at each other for a moment. The silence was deafening.

  “I know he’s your colt, Aidan, but I have a big investment in his well-being. And this is my barn. I’m responsible—”

  “I know that. And I know you want what’s best for any horse in your care, Cat, but I know Mac. He simply is stressed by the move, is all. I feel him relaxing already.”

  Which was true. Horseflesh softened under his touch as he continued to stroke the colt. Mac undoubtedly needed a bit of reassurance, was all. Considering his deep connection to Mac, Aidan would surely know if there was something more about which to be alarmed.

  Cat nodded. “Fine. I didn’t mean to question your judgment. I was simply concerned.”

  “We’ll both keep an eye on him tonight, then,” Aidan said, trying to defuse the tension now between them. “Just to be certain.”

  “All right. When I check on Fairy Tail, I’ll check on Mac, as well.”

  “I would appreciate that. As well as you telling me if you find anything off about the lad.”

  All this walking on eggshells was starting to get to Aidan, but he felt like he couldn’t be himself, couldn’t feel free to say what he wanted.

  Cat obviously loved horses as much as he—they had that in common. He quickly quashed the rush of longing that shot through him. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have any kind of relationship with an attractive lass in the very industry that took
up every moment of his life. There was something exciting about sharing work as well as play with the same woman. Not that he and Cat had a personal relationship or ever would.

  Pegeen’s tragic death nine months before broke his heart, and he wasn’t going to replace her.

  No one ever could.

  * * *

  SHE TOOK HIS SWOLLEN tip in her mouth, drew him deeper and then into her throat, inch by inch. Her nails scraped the insides of his thighs and he thought he would pop like a champagne cork, but she stopped just in time. She knew exactly what to do with him, how to make him insane with desire. Each time they were together, he learned she had new tricks.

  He closed his eyes and let her work him and just as he was about to find release…

  An inhuman scream woke him.

  Chapter Five

  A sound…a scream more than a whinny…woke Cat.

  She bolted upright in bed and listened for a repeat. The night was silent but for the wind whistling around the house. A storm was imminent but the skies hadn’t yet opened.

  The dogs were relaxed, curled up on their beds, their heads raised so they could watch her.

  Taking a deep breath, Cat willed her rapidly pounding heart to still. She must have been dreaming. She checked her bedside clock. Three in the morning.

  Awake now, she decided to get up and check on Fairy Tail. And Mac. She might as well do it now, before the rain started and made things uncomfortable. Wearing only a thin nightgown, she pulled on the jeans she’d thrown over a chair.

  Sleep had eluded her for hours. She’d been restless and out of sorts all evening. Aware of Aidan in the in-law apartment below her, she kept imagining him arguing with her, giving her looks that sent shivers down her spine.

  Not shivers of fear.

  Just the opposite.

  What the heck was wrong with her? she wondered.

  Something about him tugged at her. It wasn’t just his looks or his obvious sexuality. Something that came from inside. The deep love he had for the horses he trained had been so obvious when he’d checked on Mac earlier. It was an emotion she understood. One Jack had never had. Too bad she hadn’t realized that when she’d met him.

  She pulled on her boots.