Dark Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 2)

by Michele Scott

  I stroke her neck and encourage her to tell me more. The next image I get is a horse I recognize—it’s Joel’s horse, whose name I’ve learned is Melody. The first time I heard it, this seemed kind of funny, considering my horse’s name. Now that Harmony is trying to talk to me about Melody, I’m wondering if they have more in common than their musically themed names.

  “Okay. So, you and Melody have become BFFs? And she is giving you a lot to talk about? Maybe I need to go and talk with her,” I whisper. “I know I need to go have a few more words with Sebastian.”

  “Are you talking to your horse?” The sound of Riley’s voice catches me by surprise.

  I laugh. I was in the zone and he caught me off guard. “Sometimes. We talk a lot.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Okay. I get it. I talk to Santos, too. He’s a good listener.” He laughs.

  If he only knew. I put on Harmony’s saddle and bridle and we walk out to the mounting block. I don’t know what Riley heard or whether he thinks I’m crazy. There are moments when I really want to share this Doctor Dolittle thing I have going on, but at the same time, I really don’t know how my friends would react. I have become very comfortable and happy with the friends I’ve made here. I’m not prepared to lose any of them because they view my ability as completely weird and freakish. No. I don’t think that I am quite ready for that.

  Holden is seated in the gazebo just outside the dressage court.

  “Hi,” I say as we enter the arena. “I’m not late, am I?” It wouldn’t be the first time a conversation with Harmony made me late, but I hate to miss even a second of Holden’s great dressage lessons.

  “No, not at all. I was thinking. Good to see you. Say we get started?”

  “Yes. We’re ready.” I do a warm-up with Harmony, and then we go to real work. It’s a pretty technical lesson and goes well until I notice a change in Harmony about thirty minutes in. We’ve gotten through some of the exercises. Holden has had us working on side passing, which isn’t anything too difficult, turn on the haunches and turn on the forehand—all of it to help strengthen both of us from a physical and even mental standpoint. Each movement requires both of us to use our bodies differently. My body cues my mare, and even the slightest bit of incorrect adjusting can confuse her. She may still try and do what she thinks I am asking for, but it won’t be correct. I wish for the millionth time that I could communicate as well with horses when I’m riding as when I’m just hanging around. All I can guess is that when we are having a conversation and showing each other images, the focus is completely on that communication. When I am riding her, the focus and the relationship changes some. I am asking her to work, to perform. The focus is on the movement, and it is really concentrated. The way horses are expected to perform is as precise and difficult as any gymnastics or ballet routine out there. I know some might find that hard to believe. But I took gymnastics for a couple of years as a kid, and there was always a ballet lesson or two to go along with it. I can attest to the fact that riding dressage, or any type of competitive riding, requires just as much focus and athleticism.

  I am surprised by the shift in Harmony, as she’s been working diligently and being so good—on the bit, nice and round, stepping into her tracks, and using her body correctly. Then, when Holden asks us to run through one of our tests, Harmony spooks about five feet to the left and as we make the turn at C past the center line. She just loses it, nearly jumping out of the arena. I half expect her to bolt as I feel all of her muscles go completely taut.

  I sit back in the saddle, leg on, but giving her a hard half halt. “Whoa.” She comes back to me and calms down quickly.

  Holden is laughing. “What was that all about?” he asks.

  “I have no idea,” I reply. “Maybe she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. I didn’t notice anything, so I don’t know.”

  “Okay, well, let’s put her back up to work and try it again. The sun is starting to set; maybe it was a shadow.”

  I nod, but have to wonder. Harmony isn’t one to spook easily.

  “Start the test over,” he says.

  I do, and we make the left turn at C, the ten-meter circle at E at a working trot—and then I do feel her start to bulge on the right shoulder and tense up. I put my right calf on her and give a little with my inside rein, even scratching the top of her neck for a second. I do this without changing my position, and I couldn’t do it at an event, but in this case, it seems like a good idea to give her that extra encouragement.

  We continue to work the test, and as we come back around to the letter M, I feed her the rein to put her on a free walk. Just as we get to the middle of the arena, a group of ducks flies past low overhead. Harmony completely loses it again, and nearly runs out on me for the second time. I have to bring her back and settle her, which at least she does quickly. Oh boy, we are going to be having a conversation! What in the world is going on with my horse? First, she’s showing me a dead pony that Melody seemed to have been telling her about, and now she’s acting like she’s a nervous wreck.

  I reach down and with my right hand stroke the top of her neck a little firmer than I had while going through the test. “Hey, what is it?” I try to convey the words and hope that even though I am riding her, I can get through to her. In a flash I see an eye—a horse’s eye. Is it her eye? Hard to tell, since the flashing image was so quick, but I think it is. I climb off her and come around to her face.

  “What’s going on, Vivienne?” Holden asks.

  I hold my hand up, cupping my palm over her left eye because the angle of the setting sun is making it hard to see. Holden approaches us. “Do you think she has something in her eye?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. I just thought maybe it was worth it to take a look, since she isn’t exactly a spooky horse.”

  He nods affirmatively. “You are a vet’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  I shrug. “Have to look at all of the possibilities.” I am pretty positive that Harmony wants me to know something about her eye, but I can’t exactly say this to Holden. “I don’t see anything.” He takes a look and agrees. We walk to the other side of her, and it takes me a minute, but I do see something very small. It is on the inside of the eye, almost directly over the pupil. It’s a little to the left, and it isn’t any larger than the point of a pen.

  Holden says, “I don’t see anything. Do you?”

  I swallow hard and think that I do see something, but I’m not sure I want to say anything just yet. My mom has a special focus on ophthalmology and optometry in her large animal practice, and before I jump the gun and sound any alarms, I want to call her. “Looks good to me,” I reply.

  “Get back up on her and let’s have you both finish on a good note.” Holden turns to walk back to his spot under the gazebo.

  I scratch Harmony between the eyes. “I’ll figure out what is going on with your eye, okay? You have to trust me. I won’t allow anything to hurt you. There is nothing to be afraid of here. If there was or is, I would let you know,” I say quietly to her. I infuse my body and emotions with an energy that will convey trust and love—my body feels light and warm. I feel like I could walk on air when I express this combination of emotions together. On the other hand, when I’m expressing dark and negative emotions, my body feels heavy and unstable, as if I could easily fall down.

  “Okay. Take her over to the mounting block. Let’s finish up with a good test, Vivienne.”

  As I climb back on her, I do think it’s possible that the way the sun is positioned made shadows that caused her to spook. I don’t know this for sure, but it’s one option. The sun continues to shift quickly, and I’m curious if the light might affect her again.

  We do as we’ve done twice already in this lesson and travel down the centerline. We make the left turn at C, start our ten-meter circle at M, and it goes from there. I do feel her tense up at one point when more duc
ks fly overhead. I speak in soft tones and support her through the physical contact of my leg and my hand, not taking up too much rein but just reminding her that I am very much on top of her. “It’s okay. It’s nothing scary. I promise.” She relaxes into the movement and we finish with a halt back at X.

  “That’s how you get it done,” Holden says and stands up, walking toward us. He shrugs as he reaches out and pats her on the neck. “Spooky today, huh, big girl?”

  “Yeah. I really don’t know what that was all about,” I reply.

  “Well, you handled it just fine. Walk her out, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening, Vivienne. I’ve gotta run. We have an admin meeting in fifteen.”

  “Okay. Thank you. You have a good night, too.”

  Once we get back to the barn and I’ve taken off Harmony’s tack and rinsed her off in the wash rack, I look at her eye again. I can’t see anything in this light, which isn’t nearly as bright as it is outside. I decide to call my mom, though, and get her take, so I pull out my cell.

  “Hey, Schnoopy!” she says, calling me by the familiar pet name she coined for me when I was a baby.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “It’s good to hear your voice. You getting settled back there again? I miss you already.”

  “I am. I miss you, too. Things are good, but I am so getting an earful from the horses.”

  “Really?” Her tone changes and sounds a little bit anxious.

  I can’t blame her, considering that it was my dialogue with Harmony last semester that nearly got me killed. “It’s nothing major.” I decide not to tell her about the dead pony, or that I think Tristan’s dad could be abusing him. I’ll stay in a safe zone. “Well, Harmony is trying to tell me something, anyway.”

  “What’s going on?” she asks.

  “She was really spooky today.”

  “From what you’ve told me that doesn’t sound like her.”

  “No. It isn’t like her. I asked her about it and she says it’s her eye. I got off and looked in both of her eyes and I did see something, but barely. Holden didn’t see it, so I didn’t say anything because I could be wrong.”

  “I doubt your horse would give you wrong information, Vivvie. What did you see?”

  “It was about the size of a pen point. I know Holden wears glasses sometimes, and the light was bright, so maybe he didn’t see anything because of that.”

  “You need to let him know.”

  “What do you think it is?” I ask.

  “Without seeing her I can’t be sure, but if I had to guess, I’d tell you it’s likely a corpora nigra or uveal cyst. I hesitate to say cyst, though, because technically that isn’t what it is. It likely does not hurt her, but if it grows, it might block her vision.”

  “Which could be a problem with jumping.”

  “Right. But it can be treated with laser surgery. I’ve done some at the clinic.”

  “So, she’d have to be completely out?” I ask.

  “Yes. Usually. But, it’s her eye, Viv, so we don’t take chances. There are some vets who will perform this with local anesthetic, but I prefer to have them out cold with a general. The thing is, though, without me seeing her, I can’t for sure tell you what you’re looking at. The eye is nothing to mess with. I think you need to call in a vet.”

  “But, Mom, Holden didn’t see anything.”

  “Vivienne, it doesn’t matter. You need to tell him what you think you saw, and explain that you think it merits a ranch call by the vet.”

  “Okay,” I reply, knowing that she is right.

  “Good girl. Oh, I’m being paged. I have a horse that just came out of colic surgery. I have to go, Schnoopy. Get her checked.”

  “Okay, Mom. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I hang up the phone and call Holden immediately. He doesn’t answer, so I leave him a message to please call me.

  I go back to talk with Harmony some more. She’s a little distracted as it’s feeding time and she can hear the guys rolling around on the golf carts giving buckets and tossing hay. I pat her neck. “Yeah. Dinnertime. So, how is the eye?” I make sure she understands what I am asking by covering her eye with my hand and presenting the mental image. She moves her head away. She bats her eyes at me. She tosses her head around, and the sense that I get from her is that she’s genuinely content. I take another close look at the eye, and this time I really can’t find anything. Maybe it was as simple as her having debris in her eye and it flushing out by itself. I hate to jump to conclusions and have Holden call the vet out for nothing. I know ranch calls aren’t cheap. My mom’s words echo in my mind, though.

  Luckily, there’s not much I can do at the moment. Now that I left Holden a message, all I can do is wait for him to call me back.

  I try and continue our earlier conversation about the dead pony and Melody, but about that time the hay cart rolls up, and it’s clear Harmony is done talking. I am also aware that at this moment, I won’t get much out of Sebastian or Melody, either. But I still have plans to talk with them, because I’ve got lots of questions I want answered. On top of being worried about Harmony’s eye, I want to know what might be happening with Tristan and his father, not to mention the dead pony. I think I owe it to Tristan and the horses to investigate all of these issues further and hear the horses out.

  CHAPTER twelve

  You know those times when you feel like you might come undone? I am, at this very moment, having one of those nights.

  Right now, Tristan and Riley are on their way to the bonfire at the beach and into Lydia’s lair. I know I shouldn’t think like that. I am the one wearing the Tiffany bracelet with a heart on it. But I am still unraveling despite Martina coming back to our room and trying to take my mind off it. At least she is feeling better about things. Going to see her parents was a good thing. I know that Martina has lived a very different life from me growing up, but one of the things I believe we have in common is that we do have normal relationships with our parents. I mean, I have it with one parent, anyway.

  “I have to tell you something else,” Martina says. We’re eating Cheez-Its, beef jerky, and drinking soda—yep, the dinner of champions.

  With my mouth full of the cheesy, salty goodness, I mutter, “Sounds serious.”

  She shrugs. “I, um, well, I met someone.”

  I nearly spit out the Cheez-Its because she is finally going to divulge. “Oh yeah? Who? Where? How? Tell me!”

  “You can’t laugh.”

  “Please. I would never laugh.”

  “Okay, and you can’t question me or judge this.”

  If she only knew what I know about Riley, she would realize her statement is an unnecessary one. “I wouldn’t do that, either.” I have to say this is kind of strange, and now I am even more curious about the mystery guy.

  She sighs and then smiles. “His name is Raul, and he’s here.”

  “Here? What do you mean he’s here? Like he’s going to school here, as in a new kid?”

  She shakes her head. “No. He, he’s one of the new grooms.”

  My mouth forms the word oh, and then I say, “Oh. Oh, so when did you meet him? What’s he all about? What does he look like? Wait . . . is he the guy you flashed the bright-lights-big-city smile at when we went to the cafeteria?”

  “Slow down, Viv, you might choke on the Cheez-Its. Pass me the box.”

  I toss it to her. “Come on. Spill.”

  “Okay, yes, you’re right. So, you know how I was coming here almost every day during the break to get your horse and mine out? Well . . . he was here, too.”

  “Uh-huh.” I rub my palms together. “Thought so. I remember him. . . . Keep going.”

  “I met him while taking Harmony out to lunge the first day after pretty much everyone was out of here. He was walking into the main barn when I walk
ed her out. He stopped and looked at her and told me how beautiful she is. Then, he said that I was beautiful.”

  I can’t help myself from rolling my eyes.

  “Vivvie!”

  “I agree you are beautiful, but what a player.”

  “No. He’s not like that!”

  She looks wounded, and I feel like an ass. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m kind of a cynic.”

  “You said you wouldn’t judge.”

  “I’m not. Tell me more. I really am sorry.”

  She hesitates.

  “Please.”

  “It just sort of went from there. We started eating lunches together and he even made me a Christmas present.”

  “He did? What did he make you?”

  She gets off her bed and goes to the dresser where she takes out a long, thin box and hands it to me.

  “Open it.”

  I do and I see a gorgeous brow band for her horse, Jetson. It’s black leather with a row of emerald-green stones across it. “Wow. This is incredible. It’s beautiful.”

  “I know and he made it. He makes all sorts of things out of leather.”

  “Really?” I haven’t met this Raul guy yet, but I can’t help wondering if he is the real deal. Did he really make the brow band? Because it is quite exquisite, and I know I am sounding judgmental here, but I’m having a hard time with the groom being the awesome-brow-band-jeweler guy. Yes, I am being a bit bitchy, but Martina is my friend, and I just want to make sure this guy is being honest with her.

  “Yes, really.”

  “It’s beautiful. It really is, Martina. I want to meet him. I mean, you seem kind of serious about him. It’s pretty sudden, don’t you think?”

  “I guess. But, don’t forget how you were last semester . . . so into Tristan all of a sudden even though you wouldn’t admit it. I could see it every time you two looked at each other. We’re young, and love is supposed to be sudden, isn’t it? Raul is sweet, he’s funny, and he’s gorgeous. You saw him. And, he likes me a lot.”