She shook her head. “I keep hoping he’ll show up.”
“What happened?”
“I really don’t know. No one seems to. George worked for my parents,” Cat said stiffly, starting to feel like Aidan was backing her into a corner. “I never remember a time when he wasn’t here. He left while I was in Ireland and I’m hoping he’ll come back.”
“If he quit his job, why do you think he might show up again.”
“That’s the thing. He didn’t quit.” Once again, an awful feeling engulfed her. “He simply disappeared. No one knows where he went.”
When Aidan fell silent, Cat bristled.
Was he silently blaming her?
Or silently criticizing her for not replacing George?
And for not adding more workers?
She couldn’t afford to hire anyone else right now, not even a new barn manager. If George came back, she would find a way to pay him again. She hadn’t given up on him yet, even though she couldn’t stop worrying that something had happened to make him leave.
That his disappearance was somehow her fault.
Chapter Four
“I cannot eat another bite. Allow me to help clear,” Aidan said, rising and taking the platter and his plate to the counter.
“Thanks,” Cat muttered, head ducked away from him as she scooped up the flatware and threw it on her plate.
He wondered what he and Cashel had gotten themselves into. Bad enough his partner had attitude and an angry ex-husband, but now to learn Cat didn’t have enough help made him worry that she didn’t have the finances to carry out their contract.
Had he left Ireland simply to waste his time?
The entry fee into a graded stakes race was thousands of American dollars. And what about the six-figure entry fee to the Breeders’ Cup Classic? The hope was that Mac could earn the money through the wins that would qualify him for the world-class meet, or, better yet, that he would win a Breeders’ Cup Challenge race. Aidan was confident that given decent weather conditions and no injuries, Mac could outrun his competition on any dirt track.
But what if the payoff wasn’t enough?
What if he didn’t win a Challenge?
Could Cat really come up with six figures when she apparently couldn’t afford to hire more workers?
Not wanting to get into it now lest he say something that he would regret, Aidan tabled that particular discussion for later. On edge, his gut in a knot, he forced himself to relax. Cat didn’t seem to be having an easy time of it, either.
They remained silent as they finished clearing.
When the last item was in the dishwasher, the leftovers in the refrigerator, she asked, “Ready to take that walk over to the barn?”
“And eager. I want to make sure Mac has settled in.”
Aidan followed Cat out the door and then walked beside her. As if the very action of taking one step after another was medicinal, he felt his inner tension dissolve. A quick glance Cat’s way told him she was more at ease, as well. He had no criticism of the grounds nor the barn, so, enough help or no, she was somehow managing to do things right. He had to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Dean’s truck,” she murmured, and Aidan followed her gaze to the dark blue truck parked to one side of the barn.
Also noting the old silver sedan parked opposite the truck, he asked, “A couple of your clients?”
“My high school workers are here. And one of my two big clients at the moment. A few weeks ago, Dean Hill decided to change barns, and he wanted me to be in charge of breeding his mares. As a matter of fact, I bred one of his mares this morning. No doubt he’s here to check on her, as well.”
“How many mares does he own?”
“He brought eleven here. But they’re not being bred to Dangerous Illusion. That’s my stallion. He’s a little high-strung and low on the champion totem pole. Dean brought his own stallion. You might have heard of him—False Promise.”
“I know the name.”
“You should. Last year he won three consecutive graded stakes races, was third in the Kentucky Derby and won the Preakness.”
“I remember… didn’t he have a twin who raced, as well?”
“Right, but unfortunately, Memory of You broke down as a two-year-old, so his career ended and he never had the chance to make a name for himself. False Promise was headed for the Breeders’ Cup Classic and probably Horse of the Year, but a fracture to his rear right leg just before the Belmont Stakes ended his racing career, too.”
Having experienced one of the horses he’d trained breaking down himself, Aidan could imagine the owner’s despair at such a horrible turn of fate. “Thankfully the horse survived. And the jockey.” At least the accident wasn’t the tragedy that Aidan knew it could have been.
“Yes, both survived and the horse healed well,” Cat said, as they entered the barn. “His racing career might be over, but at least he can stand at stud and possibly sire future champions.”
A consolation, Aidan thought, one that could never make up for the loss of a dream. Most owners didn’t get more than a single chance at a really fine colt or filly that could win the high stakes races. Winning was the dream of every owner and trainer and jockey, of every groom and hotwalker who came into contact with a fine piece of horseflesh. A whole team of support staff considered the horse their own.
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?”