How to respond? Horse whispering is a method of training that emerged through the study of how wild horses communicate with one another. It’s not the same as the type of communication that I have with horses. But when Riley says the words empathy and communication together, it makes me wonder if Dr. Miller also had the gift. I can’t be the only one, right?
“What else did you know about Dr. Miller?”
“Well, she was recently engaged and planning a wedding.”
“That makes it even sadder. Who was she marrying?”
“A guy named Christian Albright, a friend of Holden and Kayla’s. Dr. Miller was Holden’s cousin. This guy is an event rider back East. He’s a pretty big up-and-comer. I think that Harmony may have been sent out from his barn a year or so ago, when Dr. Miller moved up to prelim. She was a good rider, too. But her practice kept her from competing as much as I think she wanted to.”
“I’ve heard of Christian Albright.” Interesting to know that Harmony may have originally belonged to him.
“The guy was totally broken up at the funeral. I heard he’s still in town helping store her things and getting the horses moved out that need to be sold. Harmony and another horse who had been hers were donated to the academy. But she also had a couple of quarter horses who wouldn’t have fit the program here. Not sure what happened to them.”
“There’s another horse here who’d been Dr. Miller’s?” I asked.
“Yeah. A gelding. He’s actually up in Kayla and Holden’s private barn. Kayla is riding him. Looks like a three-star horse, if you ask me, maybe even a four-star.” He raises his eyebrows. “Like you, our director would love to be on an Olympic team.”
“Really?” I know Kayla is an accomplished rider, and she’s probably only in her mid-thirties, which for an Olympic equestrian is a pretty average age. I secretly want to one day be the youngest rider on the Olympic team. My mom has always told me there is no hurry, but there is something that burns within me and drives me toward my goals.
“I think she’s been waiting for the right horse to come along. Two years ago, Dr. Miller had to put Kayla’s horse down out on course. He got hung up coming out of the water and fractured his stifle. It was terrible.”
“That is horrible on every front.”
Riley nods. “It is. I think almost everyone here is hoping that this new horse works out for Kayla.”
“He’s up in the private barn. Hmmm.”
“What?” Riley asks.
“I’d like to see him.”
“Can’t do it tonight. That barn is closed down, and security is ultra tight with the Fairmonts’ horses. But Kayla rides him at dawn every morning. I’ve seen her out in both the dressage ring and the jump arena. They are great together. You should watch one day.”
I have a thought—if Kayla’s horse lived with Harmony at Dr. Miller’s, then maybe Kayla’s horse will communicate with me about what went on there. Maybe he will be able to tell me what in the hell is wrong with my shut-down mare.
TRISTAN
CHAPTER fifteen
Tristan is tossing and turning in his bed.
How can I have been so stupid as to confide in her? What Lydia knows could ruin his family and his future. And walking on a tightrope around her is getting exhausting.
Then there’s Vivienne Taylor, though he can tell she has no interest in him. God, she is beautiful. But Riley and her seem to have an interest in each other. He wonders if Riley is a part of the scholarship-girl induction. Maybe his “liking” of Vivienne is more about the bet. Tristan hasn’t asked Ri if he is in on it because he thinks it is so stupid. Nate Deacon is such an ass. He can’t imagine Riley would be involved.
He has to give props to his roommate for making a strategic exit from Lydia and her crew. Then again, there’s no a skeleton in Riley’s closet holding him hostage. If he hadn’t had two shots of tequila that night, and felt so scared about what he’d discovered that he felt he had to tell someone, then he, like Riley, could have ditched Lydia.
Most guys at the school would kill to get with Lydia Gallagher. Here’s a girl who is totally into him, wants to sleep with him, but the fact is that she is a total bitch to everyone outside her world. He can’t stop questioning what that says about him.
Shit! I’m never gonna get some sleep.
Tristan decides to get up, grab a bottle of water, maybe look out the window at the waves crashing down onto the sandy beach. He feels like a crashing wave himself. Oh, to have a TV in the room at moments like these.
Riley walks in a few minutes later. “Sorry, bro, didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. I was awake anyway. I was thinking about stuff.”
“You? What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Right. Let me guess… Lydia?”
Tristan sighs. “Yeah.”
“What’s the problem?”
“This is Lydia we are talking about. She wants me to be this guy that I’m not.”
Riley sticks out his chest and bats his eyelashes. “Oh, Tristan, why can’t you fly me on your private jet to Hawaii where we can be all alone?”
“Pretty much.”
“I guess it’s all in deciding what you want.” Riley grabs a bottle of water and sits at the table across from Tristan.
“What do you mean?”
Riley twists the cap off the water bottle and takes a long sip. “I like people with substance, man. Shannon Burton is hot and super sexy and all that shit, but that’s about it.”
“And Vivienne Taylor?”
“Vivienne is cool. She’s what my uncle John would refer to as a classic beauty, but she’s more than that. She’s smart, she knows what she wants, she…”
“Has substance.” Tristan finishes his sentence.
“Yeah.”
“You know you’re number one, and I’m three.”
“Nate is two. I know. That’s ridiculous. Vivvie isn’t the kind of girl to fall for that anyway,” Riley replies.
“So, you’re not in?” Tristan asks, relieved.
“Hell no! Tell me you aren’t either.”
“No way, man. I can see you have a thing for her. That’s cool.”
Riley doesn’t reply.
“Substance, huh? Vivienne Taylor. Yeah. I can see that.” Tristan picks the conversation back up.
“Let’s face it, none of the chicks you hang out with have much of that. You’ve got Lydia, who what, her parents laid out how much for that new horse out there? Over a hundred grand? I don’t know about you, but the girl didn’t seem to be all that upset when Haute was put down,” Riley says. “Kind of cold. Not much substance there.”
Riley was referring to last year when Lydia’s fancy jumper, Haute Couture, got sick and died from kidney failure. Dr. Miller euthanized her, and Newman Becker personally helped Lydia and her family find a new horse over the summer. Tristan knew that if Newman helped get Lydia a new horse, her folks had dropped some serious cash on it.
“No. I think she was honestly upset about that,” Tristan says, remembering how he had hooked up with Lydia at about the time her mare had to be put down. In fact, she had cried on his shoulder and he’d comforted her.
“Yeah, well, all I can say is if you had to put my horse down like that, I wouldn’t be bouncing back here all gloating over my shiny new one.”
“You’re sounding as judgmental as she does.” Tristan squirts water from his bottle at Riley. They both start laughing. “Seriously though,” Tristan says. “What should I do? Should I be the ass who hooks up all the way with Lydia because I can?”
“You are asking a guy who, believe it or not, still believes in true love and all that shit. And in substance. Wrong guy to ask, bro. You gotta make up your mind as to what your priorities are.”
“C’mon, we are only seventeen,” Tristan remarks.
“Right. But does that mean we have to be shallow? To party and take the easy road just because it’s easy?”
“Shit, Ri, when di
d you get so philosophical? Were you ever a kid?”
“Yeah, I’m way deep. So what are you going to do?”
Tristan shrugs, then squirts Riley again.
“Tell you what, when you decide you want some substance, you know where we sit,” Riley says. “Going to bed. I have buckets in barn three in the morning. Don’t you have buckets, too?”
“Yeah, in my barn actually, tomorrow. Of course it seems to be the high-maintenance barn.”
“Your horse is in it. What’d you expect?” Riley laughed. “Like rider, like horse.”
“Yes. My horse has some issues.”
“Don’t we all,” Riley replies. “Night, T. Don’t think too hard on this stuff. You’re a good guy. You’ll figure it out.”
Tristan sits back in the chair, finishing his water. One thing now seems clear—Riley and his girl of substance are forming something together. So pursuing her is out of the question. Isn’t it?
CHAPTER sixteen
I wake up an hour earlier the next morning hoping to catch Kayla on her new horse. I had that stupid ladder dream again. It makes me feel as if I haven’t had any real sleep. I shower and quickly pack up my books and riding attire for the day. Wednesdays are my busiest day, and I won’t have time to come back and change before my afternoon dressage lesson with Holden. Our first few lessons haven’t gone all that well. It wasn’t Harmony, who did everything I’d asked. It was me. The other day, Holden took me aside afterward and said how it would take time for us to get into sync, being that we were new to each other. I’m doubtful that’s all that there is to it, but I’m determined to figure her out.
Martina wakes up as I am halfway out the door.
“Where you going so early?” she asks.
“I thought I’d catch Kayla on her new horse. Riley told me she rides at dawn.”
“Cool. Lunch?”
“I’ll be there.” I shut the door behind me and walk to the dressage arena, where I’m happy to spot Kayla on top of a near seventeen-hand mahogany bay, truly beautiful. As I approach he looks to me to possibly be a Westphalian. Definitely a warmblood.
There’s Holden sitting inside the gazebo designated for the instructors. “Nice, nice,” he says. “Move him up a little. There you go. Good. Good. Reach down and scratch his neck. Beautiful. Just beautiful work.”
I stand off to the side, watching magic take place in front of me. Dressage is an art form. It perfectly defines the harmonic relationship between horse and rider. It’s poetry in motion. Each movement needs to be executed just so, memorized by the rider and communicated to the animal. To witness grand prix dressage ridden with such grace and precision literally takes my breath away.
Kayla and this horse have the movements and rhythm down in a way that I can only dream of one day accomplishing.
“Vivienne!”
Holden is calling me over. “Come here. This is the best seat in the house.”
I walk over. “Really? I can watch from here?”
“I invited you.”
There is an unspoken rule that students are not allowed in instructors’ boxes. “Thank you.”
“You can learn a lot by watching from the ground.”
I take a seat next to him. Like everyone else in this particular paradise, Holden Fairmont has movie-star good looks—like a younger, taller George Clooney. If my mom saw him, she’d probably turn bright red and fumble her words. I’ve noticed Lydia and the DZ minions drooling over Holden. Understandably.
“They are amazing together,” I say.
“They are,” he replies. I can hear the slight Canadian clip to his speech. “We finally have a horse who really connects with my wife. It is not a happy story how he came here, but it is what it is at this point.”
“I heard,” I admit. “I’m sorry for your loss. Dr. Miller was your cousin?”
“Yes. And she was a good woman. Moved to the States with us when I was ten. She actually lived with my family because her mom had some troubles.” He doesn’t elaborate.
“So Kayla’s horse…”
“Timbre. We call him Timmy.”
“Timmy. He’s what? A Westphalian?”
Holden turns and looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Good girl. You know your breeds.”
“My mom is a vet. I had access to every breed book, history, vet med, you name it. My house back home is filled with books.”
He smiles. “You’re going to do well here, Vivienne.”
“I hope so.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Well, it’s hard socially. I’ve made a couple of good friends, but these kids are a tough crowd.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he replies. “But your talent is why you’re here. You’ll be fine socially. I’m sure of that.”
“I’m not so sure about my ‘talent’ at this point, either.”
He smiles sympathetically. “You grew up with horses. You should know it isn’t always an easy thing. The mare has had some trauma, and the atmosphere is much more intense here than at my cousin’s place.”
Timmy and Kayla come over to the side of the arena. “Hey,” Kayla says breathlessly.
“Hi. I came to watch you ride.”
“What did you think?”
“I think you two are phenomenal. I wish I could ride like you.”
“You will.” She smiles widely.
“Can I pet him?”
“Sure.”
I step over the rail. In the cool morning, I can see the horse’s breath as he blows it out rapidly, coming down from the workout. I place a hand on his sweaty neck, where his veins are popping against his coat. He’s absolutely gorgeous. I look up into his large eyes and envision Harmony in my mind.
It works! He shows me an image of the mare, a woman, and a heart. It means there was a deep love between Harmony and Dr. Miller. Next, he shows me darkness—a darkness that means something. I show him Harmony again.
And then he shows me a ladder. The same ladder I have been dreaming about for the past week.
“Hey, Vivienne, I need to go this afternoon after lessons and pick up Harmony and Timmy’s winter blankets from their old home. Would you want to go with me?” Kayla asks. “I know you haven’t seen much of California, and it’s a nice drive to Serena’s, plus we can touch base on how things are going for you so far. We could even have dinner on the way back.”
I am too stunned to respond. That ladder, it means something.
“Vivienne? Would you like to go with me?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
“All right, me and this guy better get back to work, and you have just enough time to get some breakfast and get to class.”
“See you later!”
I walk numbly to the cafeteria for a bagel and a coffee, still totally distracted.
Darkness. Harmony. The ladder?
I drink my coffee and walk to class completely consumed by this mystery.
CHAPTER seventeen
Big sigh walking into barn management class—a heaviness weighing on my shoulders. I cannot chase out of my head the image of the ladder and what it might possibly mean.
It’s my first period, and although I love it because I have an interest in one day running my own private facility, there is always that distraction.
Two rows behind me to the left.
Tristan Goode.
He comes in five minutes late to class. My stomach completely zigzags when he walks on by, and this pisses me off. I tilt my head to the side, steal a glance. Why does he have to look so good? With his short sandy hair that has the slightest of waves to it. Then there are his green eyes. Oh my God. They are like this kind of olive green with gold flecks, and thick dark lashes framing them. Usually things like long eyelashes don’t matter much to me. But I want to touch Tristan’s lashes. I hate myself for this.
And his lips. Do not get me started. Thick and full, and perfectly shaped. His body is genius. I am sorry, but Tristan Goode has a body I can only compare to Michelangelo’s Statue o
f David—sans the… that one part. I’ve only seen the guy clothed, and that is the only way I will ever see him.
I really want to hate him as much as I hate myself for obsessing over him. Tristan Goode takes up way too much space in my head.
I turn back to face Mr. Bromley, who wears an unamused look as he watches the latecomer set his books down. “Mr. Goode, do you have a problem getting to class on time? And you need to take off the baseball cap. You know the rules about hats in class.”
I so want to turn around to see his face, but I don’t. A few kids do, but not me.
“No, sir. I’m sorry. I had buckets to do in Barn Seven this morning, and I had a slight incident with one of the horses.”
“Slight incident? Expand, please?”
I hear him sigh. “Vivienne’s horse…”
I turn around.
Nate Deacon sits directly behind me and flashes me his smarmy smile. I roll my eyes at him and stare at Tristan.
“Vivienne’s horse, Harmony, she pretty much kicked at me and knocked the bucket out of my hand, spilling it all over.” He’s putting his baseball cap into his backpack and then looks up, catching my eye.
A few kids giggle.
“She didn’t kick you, did she?” Mr. Bromley asks.
I can’t say a word. If it had been Dean, I would have immediately come to his defense, suggesting Tristan might have done something stupid. But with Harmony, I have a feeling it was she who had done something stupid, and I feel miserable. Kicking is simply one of those things that can’t be tolerated from a horse. If it turns into a habit, Harmony will be removed from the program. Maybe that would be the best thing for all. I can’t believe I’m thinking this way.
I was not raised to be a quitter, and here I am considering quitting on an animal who’s had a tough few weeks. No. I have to get through to her.
Tristan looks at me again. “You may want to watch her, Vivienne. I think she has a nasty streak.”
All I can do is nod.
“Personally, I like a little bit of nasty.” This is from Nate. Such a tool. Can someone please get me out of here?
“Did you report the incident to either one of the Fairmonts?”
Silent Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 1) Page 8
