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  “And ready to work hard,” Vincent added.

  “Well, good. But before you start, I wonder if you’ve seen something around here somewhere.”

  “What?” they asked in unison.

  “A suitcase. You know one of those small cases with wheels…silvery-gray…the kind you take on a plane with you.”

  “You brought it in the barn?”

  “Not me. George did,” Cat said, noting the immediate shift in tension. Laura’s expression fell, and Vincent stepped closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he’d done before. “Well he may have brought it in here,” Cat explained. “Whatever, it’s missing and if we found it, maybe there could be some kind of clue that would help the authorities figure out what happened…” She let her words trail off. “So, you haven’t seen it?”

  “Not me,” Vincent said.

  Avoiding Cat’s eyes, Laura simply shook her head.

  It had been a long shot, but one worth taking. “Well, thanks. Just keep an eye open for it.”

  “Sure.” Vincent looked at Laura, his features pulled in concern. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” Laura pulled away from him as if to prove it. “Let’s get started.”

  Maybe the girl wasn’t so fine, after all, Cat thought, but she was putting up a good front. Both kids were so responsible. Just like she had been at that age.

  Cat realized she hadn’t had anything but coffee and a piece of toast that morning. She headed for the house. The dogs shot out of nowhere to join her.

  Now if only Aidan were here, she thought wistfully.

  How had he become so important to her in so short a time?

  * * *

  AIDAN WAS RIDING ON AIR. Mac had shaved a half second off his ten-furlong time this morning. The vet he’d chosen to take care of the colt at the track had looked Mac over and declared him to be in top shape. His team on the backstretch was set but for the jockey. Placido had come by again, but Aidan was wary of hiring him.

  Personally, his relationship with Cat made him feel emotional stirrings that he’d thought had been buried. Perhaps he could have another chance at happiness, after all.

  And then, before Aidan could say goodbye to Mac and leave for the farm, Cashel called.

  “I did some digging on Browne.”

  A shudder of anticipation shot down Aidan’s spine. “And what might you have learned?”

  “Your hotwalker is not a hotwalker.”

  Mac poked his nose at his owner for attention. Aidan patted him absently and left the stall, saying, “I don’t understand.”

  “Tim Browne is a jockey.”

  Aidan started. The man was the right size. He was still working around horses and obviously very good with them. So why wasn’t he riding them? “He must be a poor jockey if we weren’t able to place the name.”

  “Just the opposite, though he wasn’t riding in Ireland.”

  Aidan moved down the shedrow. “He said he’d been out of country. Where, then? Not in America, was he? He’s only been here a few weeks. No, wait. He said he’s only been at McHenry a few weeks.”

  “Not America,” Cashel said. “Australia. He was part of the Irish team asked over there for the Ireland vs. Australia Jockey competition.”

  Aidan knew the six-event challenge concluded with Irish Day, the second largest race meeting in South Australia every year. Being part of the team was prestigious.

  “Then why didn’t we know his name?” Aidan stopped at the end of the shedrow before going on to his loaner truck.

  “Because that was seven years ago. He liked the change of scenery and decided to settle there for a while.”

  “Seven years. He must have loved it. Or someone,” Aidan added, thinking how he’d miss Cat if he had to return to Ireland.

  “I don’t know about his love life,” Cashel said. “What I do know is that more than a year ago, a horse broke down under him in a big race. Browne had several broken bones himself. He spent months going through surgery and rehabilitation. He returned to Ireland a few months ago and never even raced while he was here.”

  “And then decided to change countries again?” Aidan shook his head. That didn’t make sense. Not unless Browne had made the move for some other purpose. Making certain no one was around to hear, he said, “I still think it an odd coincidence that we both landed here in Woodstock, Illinois, in the middle of the United States at nearly the same time.”

  “Aye,” Cashel agreed. “’Tis an odd thing.”

  A thing that sent suspicion skittering through Aidan.

  Tim Browne had arrived at McHenry Racecourse not long before him but after Cat had made her partnership offer. It was almost as if the man had been tracking his movements and arranged the coincidence of meeting him here. So he could hotwalk Mac? Or so that he could race him? If so, why hadn’t Browne approached him the way Placido had? Why would a jockey pretend he was something other than a jockey?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Their sharing a bed seemed inevitable. At the end of another difficult day, the only thought that made Cat feel better was not being alone. When Aidan took her in his arms, she sensed his need, as well. He held her close. Protectively. And something inside her blossomed.

  Things were getting scary between them.

  It wasn’t just the sex anymore.

  While she enjoyed every minute together, every kiss, every touch, Cat looked forward to what came afterward, to being held in strong arms that made her feel like she wasn’t alone.

  Like she was safe.

  With her head tucked against his chest, the drum of Aidan’s heartbeat lulled her to sleep.

  Waking sometime later, she regretted having to leave his side. He didn’t so much as stir as she pulled away from him, slipped out of bed and pulled on some clothes.

  She needed to check on the two mares she’d bred that day.

  Topaz and Smokey dogged her through the kitchen. She ruffled their ears and left them behind.

  The night was dark, the wind blowing in gusts as it had two nights ago. No sign of rain, though, something for which she was grateful. She didn’t need to be spooked again—over the past few days, she’d experienced enough fear for a lifetime.

  As was her habit, when she entered the barn, she felt for the flashlight on its wall hook. A soft nicker from one direction and a hoof meeting a barn board from another froze her in place.

  The wind soughed between the timbers.

  Her heart kicked up a beat and she held her breath to listen. When she didn’t hear anything more, she grabbed the flashlight, and, clicking it on, gave a cursory sweep of the barn. The only thing she accomplished was to disturb several horses who grumbled at her.

  Thinking that since she’d bred Sweetpea Sue first she should check on her first, Cat turned toward the aisle where Martin’s horses were stabled. Something didn’t feel right, but she put it to nerves. And yet…a few steps more and she swore she heard a noise behind her.

  “Who’s there?” she cried, turning smack into a wall of pain.

  The inside of her head lit up like a fireworks display.

  And then flickered out.

  * * *

  AIDAN LUNGED OUT OF A dreamless sleep to find Cat’s side of the bed empty and both dogs barking like they were desperate to get out of the house.

  Heart thundering, he called, “Cat?” and when she didn’t answer, tore out of bed and into his jeans.

  The dogs came to his call. They barked at him now, their voices tinged with anger and fear. Focusing on the sound, connecting with the dogs the same way he had when they’d gone down into the ravine, he fine-tuned what they were trying to tell him.

  Cat was in trouble.

  No…not the nightmare come true!

  He hadn’t warned her…

  Shoving his feet into his boots, he grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it over his head as he rushed out of the bedroom. The dogs were ahead of him, waiting with growls at the back door even as he took his first step into the kitche
n.

  The horses…she must have gone out to the barn to check on them.

  When Aidan opened the back door, the dogs exploded outward with him. There was no keeping them back. They raced to the barn. Just inside, they stopped and began whining.

  Dear Lord, he hoped Cat was all right.

  Running, he got to the entry in seconds and felt for the light switches. The barn lit up. The horses squealed and snorted. And the dogs stood guard on either side of Cat, who was sprawled facedown on the barn floor.

  It hit Aidan like a hammer—the knowledge that he’d done this, that Cat being hurt, or worse, was his fault.

  He’d dreamt it and he hadn’t warned her, hadn’t forbidden her from coming into the barn alone at night.

  Not that she would have believed him any more than Pegeen had.

  Sheelin O’Keefe had struck again, straight from her grave, and he’d let it happen. He only hoped he wasn’t too late to save another woman who’d captured his heart.

  “Oohh.”

  To his relief, Cat stirred, and the dogs whined and stuck their noses in her hair and Aidan dropped to his knees beside her.

  “What happened?” she croaked, rolling over.

  He helped her sit and cupped her chin. Gently, he turned her head so he could take a better look. Blood oozed from a cut on her forehead that slashed into her hairline. His chest tightened, for he was reminded of finding George with his head bashed in. But this veered off from what he’d seen in his sleep the night before.

  “It looks as if someone wanted you unconscious.”

  She tried to put a hand to the cut, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

  “Do not touch the wound, or you will surely put yourself in a world of pain. Do you remember anything?”

  She frowned and thought a moment. “I came to check on Sweetpea Sue and Diamond Dame. I had just gotten the flashlight when I thought I heard something. I turned and…I guess someone clobbered me.”

  Aidan immediately wanted to find whoever had done this to her and give him some of his own medicine. But whoever was probably long gone. And Cat was his first concern.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Had someone shot her up with something?

  “No. Would you move so I can get up?”

  “And your head is clear?”

  “As much as it can be, considering I got hit pretty hard.”

  So she wasn’t drugged. Where had that part of the dream come from?

  He said, “I just wanted to make certain it was all right to let you up.”

  She frowned at him then. “I can get up myself.”

  Before she could try, he hooked hands under her arms and practically lifted her to her feet. The dogs crowded them, expressing their concern in low, pitiful voices.

  “She is all right now,” Aidan told them. Intent on easing their distress, he patted each dog reassuringly and silently communicated—Calm down…your mistress will be fine—even if he didn’t quite believe it himself.

  A noise issued from the rear of the barn, and both dogs went back on alert.

  Aidan turned to see Bernie coming toward them.

  “What the heck happened?” he demanded.

  “Bernie, what are you doing here at this time of night?” Cat asked.

  “I heard the commotion the dogs were making all the way back in my trailer. I came to see what was wrong. Are you okay?”

  She groaned. “I’ll live.”

  She would for the moment…but for how long? Aidan wondered, realizing how deep his feelings for Cat went. Surely he couldn’t lose a second woman to Sheelin’s curse.

  Hoping that Bernie hadn’t had anything to do with the attack, he said, “I need to get Cat to the nearest emergency room.” Fearing she wouldn’t be able to give him directions to the hospital in her condition, he asked Bernie for that information. Then he said, “Would you look around, make certain there is no one here on the property who doesn’t belong?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “And check on the mares,” Cat added. “I never got a chance.” As Aidan headed her straight for the SUV, she stopped. “I don’t really need to see a doctor. A couple of aspirins and an ice bag will do.”

  Not willing to let her beg off, Aidan lifted her into his arms and kept going toward the vehicle. She didn’t fight him, merely lay flaccid against his chest, her head tucked under his chin. His pulse was racing and his gut was in knots, and a dread he’d only once before experienced filled him. He steeled himself against showing what he was feeling.

  “I beg to differ about the doctor, Cat. You could have a concussion. I will not be taking that chance.” He stopped at the SUV and set her on her feet. When he opened the passenger door for her and helped her into the seat, he realized the dogs were there, waiting for an invitation to get in. “Sorry, you cannot come,” he said, and closed the door.

  The dogs sat and watched with sorrowful eyes as he rounded the vehicle, got behind the wheel and fetched Cat’s keys from where she kept them in a compartment above his head. Starting the car, he glanced at her and realized how shaken she appeared to be.

  “How bad is the pain?”

  “Bearable. I just want to close my eyes and go back to sleep.”

  “No sleeping until you have been checked over.”

  Once on the road, he pulled out his cell phone and called the authorities, who promised to send someone to the E.R. to take a report, as well as to the farm to investigate the scene of the crime.

  “Talk to me and keep talking,” he urged Cat.

  “About what?”

  “Anything. I just need to know that you are all right. Tell me about your horses.”

  Cat did as he asked. “Dangerous Illusion—that’s my stallion—” she reminded him “—was born on the farm. Dad bred his sire and dam and foaled him for Martin Bradley, who raced him as a two-year-old and as a three-year-old. Dangerous Illusion was fast, but despite his lineage he wasn’t a champion. He won a few Grade 2 and Grade 3 races, but he never made the big time. He was difficult, too. Temperamental. He can be impossible at times. But when he cooperates, he makes beautiful foals.”

  “So your father bought him from Bradley?”

  “Actually, I did when I took over the business.”

  Aidan only listened with half an ear. His attention wandered to Pegeen and how she’d died because he’d thrown caution to the wind and had defied the curse and he hadn’t done what was necessary to stop her. As a result, he’d put her in mortal danger and had lost her. He’d thought the curse was over, had even thought he might be able to find happiness again. At the moment, his emotions were in overdrive, proof that he’d been unable to keep himself from becoming overly attached to Cat.

  Apparently, he was falling in love with her.

  Apparently, the curse wasn’t over.

  The moment he’d allowed himself to hope there was some happiness in his future, it was taken from him.

  But did it have to be this time?

  He had to tell Cat about the curse and about the warning in his dreams, but would she believe him any more than Pegeen had? Remembering how close-minded she’d been about his psychic connection with Mac, Aidan wasn’t certain that she would. She’d compared him to her ex-husband, who’d lied to her and had betrayed her. Would she think the same of him, that he was lying to get close to her?

  Still, he had to find some way to tell her. To warn her. To make her believe him when he told her that her life could be in danger.

  And if he couldn’t convince her, what then?

  Chapter Fifteen

  By the time Cat was released from the hospital, it was midmorning the next day. The doctor had insisted on keeping her overnight for observation. After making out a report with the uniformed officer who had come to the hospital, she’d slept only to be awakened once an hour to make sure she didn’t have a concussion. And Aidan had spent the night in a semicomfortable-looking chair.

  He looked absolutely haggard.

  “I’m sorr
y you missed Mac’s morning workout.”

  “It couldn’t be helped. Nadim took Mac out on the track. His time was a bit off yesterday, but only by less than two seconds.”

  Not good, Cat thought, but she didn’t care to point that out to a man who was probably worried already. She didn’t need to add to his burden. He should have gone to the racetrack for the morning workout and come back for her.

  “You can still go out there after you let me off—”

  “Nah, nah, I will not be doing that until I am sure you are safe.” He hesitated a moment and added, “Your life may be in danger.”

  How he could be confident of any such thing, she wasn’t certain. Still, she had to remain positive. She wouldn’t live in fear.

  “It was a random event, Aidan, probably a thief just looking for something he could take and hock and I interrupted him.” She had to believe that. The alternative—that it was someone she knew—was unthinkable. “I won’t go out to the barn alone at night anymore.”

  “The authorities did not find any indication of mischief or theft.”

  “Maybe my walking in on him was enough to scare the intruder away.”

  “I would like to think that.”

  “What do you think?”

  “That I’m to blame.”

  Cat started. “You? Why would you say that?”

  “’Tis the McKennas’ lot to lose the people they care about.”

  He cared about her? Her pulse quickened. “I don’t understand.”

  “’Tis a curse.”

  She listened to his story about Sheelin O’Keefe and Donal McKenna, and how when Donal left the supposed witch for another woman, Sheelin cursed his progeny to put their loved ones in mortal danger.

  “You certainly have an open mind,” Cat said. “You believe in a psychic connection with your horses. And now a witch’s curse.”

  “You think I am making all this up?” He sounded upset.

  “I think you have an Irish sense of whimsy.”

  “Is that what it is?”

  “It makes a good story.”

  “’Tis all true!” Aidan argued. “My family has lost too many loved ones to think otherwise.”

  “Everyone loses someone they care about.”