She indicated the very large building set back a hundred yards from the house. “Raul will get him set up in a stall.”
“I’ll be doing that myself, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, of course. I just thought you might be tired from the flight. Or hungry.”
The flight from Shannon to New York had exhausted him, but he’d had three days to recuperate while the colt had been quarantined. The two-hour flight from New York to Chicago had raced by in comparison. But they didn’t feed him in economy, and then, after the plane had landed, he’d been too concerned with checking to make sure Mac had made a safe crossing to worry about finding food for himself.
“I could use a bit of food,” he admitted. “After I make sure the colt is settled.”
Cat nodded. “I don’t cook fancy, but I have a pot roast in the Crock-Pot. It’ll be ready anytime you are.” She moved to the front of the trailer and opened the truck’s passenger door. “Raul, please take them to the barn, and show Mr. McKenna around. Get him anything he needs.” She indicated Aidan should get back in the passenger seat. “Then bring him around to the house and take his bags down the rear stairs.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Aidan nodded as he climbed back into the truck. Cat had thought of everything, including a temporary living arrangement in an in-law apartment on the lower level of her home. He would make certain that it would be very temporary. Once he settled Mac in a stable at the track, he would then look for a flat for himself nearby. Confident he could control what did or did not happen between them if he put his mind to it, Aidan knew he couldn’t chance living this close to Cat for any length of time.
As Raul drove to the far end of the barn, Aidan noticed an outdoor arena and four paddocks. “So how big is the farm?”
“Seventeen acres.”
“What about the barn?”
“Forty-two twelve-by-twelve-foot box stalls, nearly a dozen empty right now,” Raul said. “But it’s still early in the breeding season. In the next week or two, owners will be lined up to get their broodmares in and out of here, and then there won’t be enough room.”
“So she has a good stallion.”
“Good enough, I guess. He’s loco sometimes. Dangerous, like his name.”
Raul’s lack of enthusiasm confirmed Cat’s reason for wanting to get Mac Finnian at stud. His sire lines were impeccable—Mr. Prospector and Bold Ruler before that—as were the dam’s sire lines—Sadler’s Wells and before him Alleged.
“What else is in the main barn?” Aidan asked.
“There’s two foaling stalls with video feeds to the house, an indoor arena, two tack rooms, office, laundry and medicine room.”
“Impressive place.”
“Miss Clarke does okay for herself.”
Though it should have sounded like a compliment, Aidan sensed something else there. Resentment? Maybe Raul didn’t like working for a woman but didn’t have a choice. Aidan took a better look at the worker. The man was small but muscular and had bronzed features that were smooth but for the wrinkles around his dark eyes. Aidan guessed him to be nearing forty or so. Wondering how long Raul had worked here, but wanting to know more about the farm and Cat, he decided to keep his own counsel until he got to know the man better. Raul hadn’t said much since they’d loaded Mac into the trailer, had only spoken when necessary.
As Raul slowed near a back door, Aidan could see another building farther back on the property, no doubt to hold equipment and supplies. And opposite the buildings, three large four-board fenced pastures and a small dirt track. The farm wasn’t as green as the countryside in Ireland, but it was far more so than he’d been expecting. Far more extensive, too.
Cat Clarke was indeed doing okay for herself, which made Aidan feel better about his situation. He got out of the truck and went around to unload Mac from the trailer. She was a seasoned professional and would undoubtedly do everything in her power to help him make the colt into a champion.
So why did he have the niggling feeling that everything wasn’t as it seemed?
***
While Aidan was getting the colt settled, Cat took the opportunity to shower. She’d bred Fairy Tail, one of Dean Hill’s broodmares, that morning and hadn’t had a chance to clean up and do something with her hair. Her sprucing up had nothing to do with wanting to impress Aidan McKenna, at least not in a personal way. She hoped to appear the successful businesswoman she wished she really was so that he would have confidence in their new partnership.
Imagining what he might have thought coming in on her fight with her ex-husband, she quickly blow-dried her hair, then entered the bedroom where her two dogs, Smokey and Topaz, were waiting for her with hopeful gazes.
“All right. Give me a second.” As she fetched treats from a container on her dresser, they pushed into her legs. “Go get it.” She tossed the treats across the room and smiled when the dogs bounded after them.
She loved this room that had been hers since childhood. It was all grown up now, with pale gold walls and cranberry and gold bedding. Her favorite thing, though, was the wall holding a smattering of framed photos that traced her history—her on her first pony, her with the horse she’d ridden at her first competition with the ribbon she’d won attached to the frame, her with the first mare she’d bred. And of course the family photos—Mom, Dad, her brother Jens. And George. While not blood kin, she’d always thought of him as an honorary uncle.
Thinking about his disappearance threatened to bring her down again, so she shifted direction. She hadn’t made a great first impression on Aidan. Time to correct that. Looking successful and acting confident went a long way toward becoming successful. Or so her mother had always taught her. To that end, she donned a new pair of brown slacks and a pale gold shirt and secured a thick gold link bracelet around her right wrist.
Then she rounded up the dogs, using more treats to lure them out into their run alongside the house.
Cat finally headed for the kitchen, reminiscent of the fifties when it had been last renovated, other than the appliances that had been replaced several years ago. Even if she had a barrel-load of extra cash, she wouldn’t update the kitchen more than necessary. She’d been serious when she’d warned Aidan about her cooking skills—they were at a bare minimum. She spent as much time outside with the horses as she could manage.
She’d barely set the table when she heard the back door open.
“Aidan?”
“Aye.”
The in-law apartment had its own separate entry out back. She turned to see him come into the kitchen, his shoulders nearly filling the doorway. As had happened the first time she’d met him, he took away her breath for a moment. It wasn’t simply that he was attractive—which he was—but that he had a way about him that narrowed her focus so she couldn’t see anything beyond him. He’d changed into a fresh shirt, and his thick hair looked damp, as if he’d slicked it back with wet hands. Feeling herself flush, Cat blinked and turned toward the counter with the Crock-Pot.
“I just have to put the food on the table.” She removed the cover.
“’Tis making my mouth water already,” he said, moving close enough behind her that she nearly dropped the meat fork. “What can I do to help?”