“Not yet. I knew I was already late to class, and I thought I should speak with Vivienne first about it.”
“Well, that’s thoughtful,” Mr. Bromley replies, “But per the rules you need to report this. I suggest doing so right after class.”
I slink down in my chair and try hard to turn my focus onto Mr. Bromley’s lecture on managing finances when running a barn. But pretty much the next hour is spent inside my head, racking my brain over Harmony and feeling bad that she kicked out at Tristan. I know I should talk to him about her after class but… oh God! I feel sick to my stomach.
As class comes to a close, Mr. Bromley finally catches my attention. “Your quarter assignment will be working with another member in class. One of you will be working from the trainer point of view at a barn. That means you manage the horses, help bring in the clients, keep track of all things associated with your training, employees, that sort of thing. The other one of the team will be the owner/barn manager. Your job will be to manage the finances overall and keep things within a budget, as well as promote the barn and communicate well with the trainer. This incorporates economics, marketing, and business. It’s all in the syllabus I am passing out. If you have questions, we can go over it tomorrow. Grading will be on the quality of the overall project, individual work, and how you work as a team. We all know in the equestrian business, as with most things in life, there is a need for a team mentality. Good!” He claps his hands together. “Okay, we have twelve in this class, so that makes it perfect for the two-person teams. I am going to number one through six. Find your corresponding number and there’s your team partner.”
Mr. Bromley gets to the end of my row and I’m number six. My stomach begins sinking rapidly as I calculate as quickly as I can who will also be number six. My brain reaches the answer as Mr. Bromley says it aloud. “Mr. Goode, you are number six.”
TRISTAN
CHAPTER eighteen
As Vivienne walks quickly down the hall, Tristan tries to catch up with her. When she finally reaches her locker and she’s twisting her combination lock, he says, “Hi.”
“Hi.” she says, not altogether looking at him.
He notices that she’s having difficulty getting the lock undone. “I thought maybe we should talk about Harmony.”
She gets her locker open, puts away a few books, grabs some new ones. “I’m sorry she kicked you.”
“Yeah, no worries. I just…”
Vivienne closes her locker and faces him. “Just what?”
He thinks: Man, she has pretty blue eyes. “I’m not going to report what she did. She was just being a horse, and maybe feeling uh, full of herself. Maybe she’s in season?”
Oh God, how ridiculous does that sound? Tristan wants to bang his head against her locker.
“Yes, because all females in season want to kick the crap out of anything male?” This earns a small smile from Tristan.
“Seriously, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble on either Harmony or my account.”
“Oh, no worries. Hey, we should maybe figure out when we can get together and work on the barn management project. It’s pretty intense.”
She looks away before answering. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
“What day?” he asks.
She leans back against her locker. “I think Wednesdays. I can meet with you on Wednesdays.”
He places a hand on the locker next to her and leans in slightly—close enough that he can smell her perfume. Or is it just her? Mmm. Either way, he finds it… intoxicating. “Good. Library?”
“Yes,” she says in a barely audible voice.
Is she nervous?
“Five thirty? Maybe for an hour, so then we can head out for dinner,” he says.
“What would your girlfriend say about that?”
“I didn’t mean… I meant we could work on our project for an hour, and then you can go have your dinner and I’ll have mine. I assume that you and Riley like to eat together.”
“What do you mean about Riley and me?”
He notices her ears turning red, and he wants to laugh because it’s kind of cute. She’s been playing tough girl, and now he has her. He would love to have dinner with her. He would really love that. “You and Riley? You are going out, right?”
“No. He’s my friend.”
“Oh. I just thought, because you guys spend a lot of time together and he talks about you all the time. You know he’s my roommate, right?”
She shifts uncomfortably. “I have to go.”
“Right. See you in class and next Wednesday at the library.” Tristan watches her walk away. The way he caught her looking at him has not been lost on him at all. And now, to learn that she and Riley are not going out—now that is interesting. Does it change anything for him? Probably not. First off, he knew that his buddy had a thing for her. It was so obvious from the substance talk.
Secondly, there is Lydia.
He’s started to walk toward his locker when Nate stops him. “Hey, man… saw you talking to Vivienne. So, you’re in, huh? Nice you get to be her partner. That should make things a little easier for you. But I am still going to win this thing.”
“I was talking to her about her horse, and I am not in. Just let it go, Nate.”
“Let it go? No way. The pool is at two grand right now and climbing! Plus, I want into those panties.”
“I seriously doubt that is going to happen,” Tristan says.
“Oh, I got ways. Could be a fun little chase. You could get yourself a piece on the side. Not bad. I mean, I’m hanging out with Emily, you know, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking that this Vivienne chick could be a party. And it’s all between us… the boys. Come on, what do you say? Might make some money, and…”
“I said no.”
Nate takes a step back and holds his hands up in the air. “Okay, bro. But if you change your mind, I think you got a lot of the boys swinging for Team Tristan.”
Tristan feels an intense need to protect Vivienne. He respects her. Kids don’t come to Fairmont on scholarship without working their asses off, and he doesn’t want to see her chased away by jealous girls and idiotic guys. He begins walking to his next class. How can he protect this girl from all the BS at Fairmont? Does she even want me to? He’s pretty sure that she doesn’t. He can’t do anything to save her without ruining his own future.
CHAPTER nineteen
My interesting day continues. Being paired with Tristan, then having that awkward conversation by my locker, still has me thrown. How in the world am I supposed to meet with this guy to work on our project on a regular basis? Come on! Oh God, did he notice my ears? I could feel them burning when he said that thing about Riley and me.
On the positive side, my dressage lesson is going well. Better than well, in fact. I really thought it was going to suck because today is a group lesson, and in my group are my BFFs—Lydia and Emily.
I tack up Harmony, not expecting any direct communication from her, but I still feel bad that I can’t help her. At least we are becoming a fairly decent team in the riding arenas. Yes, she is a handful. I can always feel that nervous energy bubbling up from inside her, especially during our jump lessons. However, I am able to maintain that energy and keep her mind focused. So although she isn’t talking to me, maybe she is listening to me?
We warm up our horses before Holden begins teaching. As much as I can’t stand Lydia, she does have a presence on her mare, Geisha, who is a spectacular black Selle Français. I can see out of the corner of my eye, though, that Geisha is being difficult for Lydia. Kind of out of character for the horse.
Then there’s Emily, who from my perspective never seems to really want to be on the back of a horse. She almost appears to despise it. She is a good rider, though.
As the lesson starts, Holden has to really work with Lydia and Geisha. “No, Lydia. Get your leg underneath you a little farther. Look at Vivienne.”
Does he have to say that?
“Better.
Now quit hanging on her. The more you pull on her mouth, the more she pulls back. Right? Who is going to win that battle?”
One of Holden’s rules is that when he asks a question, he expects it to be answered. Even if the answer is, “I don’t know.”
“Miss Gallagher? Do you hear me?”
“Of course,” she replies snottily.
“Okay, then, who is going to win the war if you constantly hang on her mouth?”
“Her!” she shoots back.
“Correct. What is the answer then? What should you do?”
She sighs and shrugs.
“Emily?” he asks.
She shrugs, too.
Oh boy, these two and their peas-in-a-pod mode. They know the answer. It’s basic.
“Vivienne? What would you do?”
I feel framed. “I’d put my leg on, soften my elbows, and use my hips to rotate with her movements. As you said, the tenser you become, the tenser the horse becomes, and it is a battle the rider won’t ever win.”
“Correct! Girls, you are on thousand-pound animals. They will win the tug-of-war. Okay, back to work.”
It is five minutes later and I see Lydia seesawing on her horse’s mouth again.
Holden sees it, too. “Lydia! Get off her!”
“What? Why?”
“You know why. If you can’t follow instructions, and then you get angry about it and take it out on her, then you don’t ride for the rest of the day.”
“I wasn’t…,” she starts to protest.
“Off!” he says. “Emily can put your horse away. I don’t need anyone who is in a belligerent and foul mood to be dealing with an animal. She doesn’t deserve it. I also want you in my office at seven thirty tomorrow morning.”
She swings her leg over and jumps off, handing him the reins. “Yes, sir,” she replies.
The rest of the lesson is peaceful and nearly perfect.
When the lesson is over and we head back to the barns, I notice a woman approaching Emily. She is tall and dressed in riding attire herself. “Emily!” she calls out.
Holden has Lydia’s horse. “Mrs. Davenport, it’s nice to see you,” he says.
“Hello, Mo-ther.”
“Looks like my daughter has some work to do.”
“Mom.”
“She’s doing rather well,” Holden replied.
“I took some video today. I think we need to sit down and go over it,” Mrs. Davenport says. “From where I was, it looks as if your new student has quite an edge over Emily.”
“Mrs. Davenport, Emily is a fine rider, and she is improving every day.”
“I have an opinion on that. Emily, you will be coming to dinner with me tonight, and we will review your performance.”
I keep walking, not wanting to get caught up in any of that. I glance back, and Emily looks shattered. I feel kind of sorry for her.
What looks so pretty on the outside around Fairmont—the beautiful kids who seem to have perfect lives—now looks less so. In fact, I wonder if, like Emily, the kids she hangs out with are all living some big charade?
CHAPTER twenty
While I put Harmony away, I tell her, “I am going to your old home tonight, to get your winter blanket and turnout sheet.” I wish I knew what her old home looked like, or even the color of her blanket, so that I could picture those for her.
“You were a really good girl today. Thank you. That Lydia was not so good, huh? Her poor horse.”
And then… I get something! She shows me a kick to Lydia’s butt. I start laughing and practically crying at the same time! “Yes, you’re right! She does deserve a kick in the ass. Speaking of, why did you kick Tristan this morning?” I picture Tristan in my head.
She shows me a baseball cap. “A cap? What?”
Again, she shows me the cap. He had worn a cap in class. “I don’t understand.”
“Vivienne?”
I turn around to see Kayla. “Oh, hi.”
“You about ready? I want to get on the road, so we aren’t back too late.”
“Let me just put her back in the stall.” As I do this, I whisper, “I don’t know what the cap means, but thank you for telling me about it.”
I leave Harmony, elated that she has given me some tidbit. I want more.
Driving inland, Kayla tells me we are headed to an area called Tarzana. The traffic is light on the back roads. Along the way, we make small talk about school. I am still curious about why she invited me.
We pull into Dr. Miller’s place about twenty minutes later. It’s impressive. Not on the scale that Fairmont is, but still nice. We drive up a long driveway with rosebushes on either side. There is a shed row to the right of us, and on the left-hand side a riding arena, as well as a pretty ranch-style house at the end of the driveway. Kayla pulls around back. I see a few empty corrals and a round pen, and then a main barn in the far left corner. Lights are on inside the barn. A couple of cars are also parked nearby.
“Huh,” Kayla says. “I figured Christian would be packing the rest of Serena’s things up, but I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.”
“Christian is—was—Serena’s fiancé. I suppose the other car might belong to a former boarder. Serena ran a rehab facility for injured horses,” she explains. “And she also on occasion would bring some of her sick patients here for observation and help.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. I want to ask her about Harmony and Christian Albright’s place back East, but at this moment, I’m focused on taking the place in. I want to remember as many details as I can, so that I can show Harmony that I have been here.
As we walk down into the main barn, I hear tense male voices from inside.
“Those horses belong to me, Christian!”
“Christian?” Kayla yells out.
“Kayla?”
In the barn aisle are two men—one young and good-looking, wearing a polo shirt, breeches, and cap. He’s tall with blond wavy hair and warm brown eyes, but his arms are crossed and he looks like he’s about ready to punch the other guy, whose big belly reminds me of my junior-high math teacher. Everyone said Mr. Rhoades enjoyed his beers and burgers. I think this guy might, too.
The man who has to be Christian says, “No, Jim, they are definitely not your horses.”
I take note of a cute palomino quarter horse sticking his nose out one of the stalls.
“The hell they aren’t! I was my sister’s only sibling, and those animals belong to me. I want all of them back. Or I’ll take the money they’re sold for. That’s rightfully mine.”
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Kayla asks.
“I am sorry you have to see this spectacle, Kayla.” He comes toward me with his hand outstretched. “I am Christian Albright.”
I smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Vivienne Taylor.”
The other man continues to fume. “This is lovely, folks. It really is. But I want my goddamn horses!”
Christian turns on his heels and is suddenly right in this Jim guy’s face. Kayla and I both step back. “Those horses belonged to your sister. You never did a damn thing for Serena. She told me that you never even called her in the last five years. The horses belong to me.”
“Was there a will? I was told there was no will!”
“Who told you that?” Christian asks.
“Well…”
Christian holds up a hand. “That’s what I thought. You’re just running your mouth and making assumptions. Your sister did have a will. When we got engaged, she had a will drawn up and made me the beneficiary. She gave me the authority to keep, sell, or donate horses as I saw fit.”
“This is wrong! I’m family. You’re… you’re just—” Jim is turning bright red, and the bulge in his stomach is jiggling.
I glance at Kayla, who looks as stricken as I feel.
“I’m going to fight this. You’ll be hearing from my attorney.”
“Fine by me,” Christian shoots back. “Go right ahead and waste your time and money. Wo
n’t change a thing.”
Jim storms off, and a moment later we hear the turn of an engine.
“I am sorry, ladies. This has been an ugly mess. On top of losing Serena, I’ve had to deal with relatives like him coming out of the woodwork.”
“I’m sorry,” Kayla says. She rubs his shoulder.
“Luckily Serena was smart enough to draw that will up. She actually did that only a few months ago, at my urging. I had my will updated when we got engaged. I was surprised when she told me that she didn’t have one. She thought that because she didn’t have a family yet, she didn’t really need one. But I told her that she had a family. The horses. And me.” He is tearing up. “I miss her so much. Our entire future together was gone in that moment. I am so angry that I missed my flight that day. I told her to leave what needed fixing around here until I could get here. But she was so damn independent.”
“Yes, she was,” Kayla replies.
I have no idea what they’re talking about, but I’m really curious now about how Dr. Miller died. When Kayla had mentioned accident, I assumed car accident.
Kayla lays a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be happy to know that Vivienne is riding Harmony. Vivienne is our scholarship recipient this year, and an absolutely fabulous rider.”
“That’s good to hear. Congratulations.” He wipes the tears from his face. “Harmony is a fine horse. A bit high-strung, but if Kayla handed the reins to you, she has faith you can handle her.”
“She’s a wonderful horse. Very athletic.” God, I want so badly to ask him what her full history is, but I feel too awkward to ask right now.
“I suppose you ladies are here to collect the blankets,” he says. “It’ll start cooling down in the next few weeks. Hopefully I will be back East by then to close escrow on our… my place.”
“Serena told me all about the property you guys were buying and what you wanted to do with it.” Kayla smiles in what looks to be an attempt to comfort him.
“Yeah. Well.” He rubs his hands together. “Let me get your things. And Timmy? How is our big guy doing?”
Silent Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 1) Page 9
