Purebred (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

First thing the next morning, with Raul’s help, Aidan loaded Mac into the trailer to take him to the track. If he’d dreamed the night before—whether of Cat or of murder—he wasn’t aware of it. He hadn’t heard stirrings above him, so he assumed Cat was still asleep. Good. She needed it after everything that had happened yesterday.

He couldn’t help but think about their tryst in the forest preserve before finding her barn manager’s body. What they’d done had been spontaneous and raw and exciting. And he couldn’t help but want more.

But now, was that even possible? He’d sensed Cat’s guilt after the discovery. And her longing last night. Which would win? Taking advantage of a woman in pain wasn’t something he could do.

When they were on their way, Aidan turned his thoughts to the murdered barn manager. “My condolences, Raul.”

“What for?”

“George Odell’s untimely death. You worked with him every day. You must have been close.”

“Yeah. Damn shame about him.”

Raul sounded sincere, and Aidan noted his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Cat thinks he had no enemies.”

“George was a good guy. Fair boss. Kept to himself mostly.”

“So why would someone have reason to kill him?”

If Raul had a theory on that, he didn’t say. He sank into silence. Aidan wished he knew the right questions to ask. Probably Raul knew him better than most people. Certainly in a different way than Cat.

Before he could figure out how to open the man up, get him to talk, Raul said, “Placido told me you don’t want him to ride your horse.”

“I never said that. First, it was a bad day to make important decisions. And then your brother jumped the gun, so to speak.” He wasn’t going to disparage the man to his brother for being so aggressive. Placido might indeed be the best jockey for the job, and he didn’t want to cut out any possibilities yet. “I want to get Mac settled in his stall and out on the track first before I put him together with a jockey. The colt has a lot to say about who will ride him.”

“You let the horse decide?”

“So to speak.” He wasn’t about to explain that he could sense whether or not there was a connection between a colt or filly and jockey.

“That’s crazy, man, but whatever. You don’t have no long time to think about it.”

“I’m aware of that. I’ll interview Placido in the next day or two.”

“Yeah, if he’s still available.”

It occurred to Aidan that if Placido was the most winning jockey at the track, he should already have a ride. So what did the fact that he didn’t have one mean? That he’d had an offer and lost the ride for some reason? Or that other owners and trainers were as put off by the man as he and Cat had been?

They pulled into the parking area behind the shedrow where Mac would be stabled, and as Aidan backed Mac out of the trailer, he ran his hands over the colt to soothe the tension out of his muscles. The colt relaxed only a little. He bobbed his head and sniffed the air of yet another new place. Though Mac was a good traveler, he’d done more of that than running since Aidan had decided to bring him to America. It was time he really got to stretch his legs.

“The tack room is at the end of the shedrow,” he told Raul. “Just bring enough equipment to take Mac out on the track this morning. As soon as you’re done, you can go back to the farm.”

Raul simply grunted at him in response. Undoubtedly he was still out of sorts about his brother. Aidan led Mac to the shedrow. By the time they got to the stall, Nadim was coming toward them from the other direction.

“I just brought a horse back from a workout,” the exercise rider said, giving Mac the once-over. “Hey, he’s a real beauty. I have one more and then I have an hour before my next ride. I can work your colt if you want.”

Grinning, Nadim reached up and gently ran a hand over Mac’s nose. The colt blew into his palm and Aidan felt his tension ease up. Within seconds, Mac was snuffling Nadim’s hair and then the front of his shirt. Laughing, Nadim pulled a piece of carrot from his pocket. The colt wasted no time in taking the offering.

“Grand. It seems Mac likes you, so you’re in,” Aidan said.

“Okay. See you right after I’m done.”

Aidan was settling Mac into his new quarters when Raul delivered the tack and then quickly left for the farm. Aidan wondered how Cat was doing this morning?

He wished she could be here, not just to be part of Mac’s first day, but because he missed her, as impossible as that seemed. They might have had sex, but they barely knew each other. And yet…in some way he felt as if they belonged together. Foolish thought. Perhaps it was a fine thing that she had a mare in season, reason enough to keep them separated. He wondered that she could keep her mind on her job so soon after finding George.

And then there was Detective Pierce’s promise to return. Had he already spoken to owners Dean Hill and Martin Bradley? Had he asked around town about George? If he’d learned something significant, would he share it with Cat?

Remembering his promise to check out Fernando’s Hideaway with Cat this evening, he wondered what she hoped to learn. She wasn’t some trained detective, but she was determined to help get justice for a man who was like family to her. He couldn’t help but admire her for it.

Admiration was only one of the feelings he had for Catrina Clarke, Aidan thought. His blood stirred every time he was around her. He’d already felt her fire for the Thoroughbred business more than once. That alone made it hard to resist her, and when he simply thought of how much responsibility she shouldered alone without complaint, his heart stirred.

Something he didn’t want to think too closely on. Something he didn’t want to make real.

How could it be real in so short a time?

He simply needed someone in his life. He was tired of being lonely. And Cat just happened to be there, filling his head with what-ifs.

By the time he groomed the colt, picked and booted his hooves and tacked him up, Nadim had finished with his other ride.

It was early enough that there was still time to run him on the racetrack rather than the practice track, so after making certain Nadim could handle Mac, Aidan picked up a ride from another trainer driving in that direction. He was going to have to find time to rent some kind of vehicle long-term.

Aidan got to the track in time to see Nadim walk Mac halfway around to familiarize the colt with the sounds and smells and the feel of the dirt below his hooves. At the halfway mark, Mac was literally chomping at the bit to run, but Nadim kept in control, letting Mac trot, then extending the trot to stretch out Mac’s muscles and get his blood circulating. Once he was properly warmed up, Nadim brought him to the fence to check with Aidan.

“He’s good to go,” said Nadim.

Indeed Mac was, and on Aidan’s signal, go he did, finishing a mile and a quarter in two minutes two and a half seconds, about three seconds more than the Breeders’ Cup Classic record. And this was just his first run on a real American track.

Aidan was pleased. And from the grin on Nadim’s face, the exercise rider knew exactly what he had under him. In his element, Mac pranced and tried to get Nadim to let him run again, but the lad was strong enough to keep him in line.

“I have to get to the backstretch,” Nadim said. “My next ride is in fifteen minutes.”

“You can find a hotwalker?” Aidan asked. He would do it himself, but it looked like he was going to have walk back.

“No problem. There are plenty of guys hanging around, looking for more work.”

Mac couldn’t contain himself. The colt was making the exercise rider work to keep him in check. Following as best he could on foot, Aidan thought Nadim had possibilities as a jockey in the near future.

The distance between Aidan and his colt increased, and before he knew it, Mac disappeared behind the shedrow. It took Aidan another several minutes to catch up to them.

To his surprise, not only had Nadim removed the colt’s tack, but he was handing Mac’s lead to the stranger Aidan had seen watching him so intently the day before. On edge now, he told himself the lad had simply been looking for work. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the young man looked familiar despite the billed cap and sunglasses that half-hid his face.

Realizing he’d caught up, Nadim said, “I need to get going to my next ride, Mr. McKenna. Tim here will cool Mac down.”

“Thank you, Nadim. I shall see you tomorrow morning, then.”

“Bright and early.” Waving goodbye, Nadim jogged off down the shedrow.

Aidan turned to the hotwalker. “Tim, is it?”

“Tim Browne.”

Aidan didn’t miss the light lilt that reminded him of his homeland. So he’d been correct about recognizing him from somewhere. He watched Mac intently, put out his radar to make certain the colt was comfortable with the hotwalker. Everything seemed fine. More than fine.

Mac was pushing on the hotwalker like he knew him. Browne laughed and stroked the length of his nose.

Even so, when Browne moved off with Mac, Aidan kept pace with them.

“I’ll walk with you a while, if you don’t mind.”

“’Tis your horse.”

“Nothing personal. I simply like to make sure my horses are comfortable with the people who handle them.”

Oddly enough, Mac was more than comfortable with someone who was a complete stranger. Browne kept his shoulder even with Mac’s as they circled the shedrow. Just once, Mac tried to get ahead of him, but a sharp tug was enough to get the colt back where he belonged. Though the lad was nearly as small as Nadim, he was in control. It took great strength to handle a twelve-hundred pound horse. Aidan didn’t sense any resistance on Mac’s part—the colt acted like the hotwalker was an old friend.

For some reason, that made Aidan even more uncomfortable.

“How long have you been working with the McHenry racehorses?” Aidan asked.

“I would be new here. Just as you are.”

“And you are from Ireland. Just as I am.”

“Aye.”

“Some coincidence.”

“Not at all. I sought you out. ’Tis grand to hear someone I can thoroughly understand.”

Aidan could empathize with that. Though Americans spoke English, they all had different accents, and it took quite a bit of concentration to keep up with a conversation.

Browne let Mac take a short drink from a bucket attached to the end of the shedrow, checked his body temperature by placing his hand on Mac’s chest, just below his neck. Mac snuffled his arm and looked at him expectantly.

“I think he wants you to give him a peppermint,” Aidan said, pulling one from his pocket and handing it to the man.

“Here you go, then.”

Mac lipped the peppermint from Tim’s hand, then swung his big head into the small man’s shoulder.

Laughing, Browne reached up to scratch the sweet spot between the colt’s ears and then continued walking him.

Amazed by the instant connection between horse and hotwalker, Aidan asked, “So what track did you work at in Ireland, Tim?” thinking that perhaps he and the colt had met previously.

“Ach, here and there. All over, really. I’ve actually been out of country the last few years.”

Very nonspecific. “And here I was thinking we must have been at the same track at the same time before.”

“Why is that?”

“I thought you looked familiar when I saw you yesterday.”

Browne merely grunted and kept walking and watering the colt and checking his chest. Realizing he wasn’t going to get more from the lad, Aidan simply went along for the walk, relying on his instincts. He simply didn’t sense any reason to be suspicious of the hotwalker, no matter how much of a coincidence it was that they’d ended up at the same American track at the same time.

Browne repeated the process over and over until Mac was sufficiently cool. After rinsing the shedrow dirt from the colt’s knees down in front, hocks down in back, Browne took Mac to his stall where he turned him loose.

“Do I qualify to work with your horse?” he asked Aidan.

“You’ll do.”

Standing at the stall opening, Aidan slipped another peppermint from his pocket and offered it to Mac. The colt lipped it into his mouth, bobbed his head and butted Aidan for attention. Aidan laughed and slipped his arms around the colt’s neck. He ruffled his mane and in return, Mac snorted, chewed on his hair, then backed off and bobbed his head, as if saying
got you last.

“You two seem to have a deeper connection than most.”

“McKennas have a way with horses.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Browne saluted him and sauntered off, leaving Aidan to wonder what else the hotwalker had heard. He could understand him being drawn to work for another countryman, but how had he ended up at the same track? And why had Mac acted as if he already knew the man?

There was more to Tim Browne than met the eye.

Thinking he should find out what he could about the hotwalker, Aidan decided to call Cashel. After exchanging pleasantries and not such pleasant information about Cat’s barn manager, Aidan got down to business.