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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?”
    “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