Bittersweet Farm 1:
Mounted
Barbara Morgenroth
Copyright © 2012 Barbara Morgenroth
Chapter One
The air was shimmering with the oppressive heat on the late June morning. The weekend show was over and our horses had a day off, but Greer didn't. I looked at my half-sister in the hay and said, "You might want to stop what you're doing. Dad's on his way."
***
“She was doing...what? In the barn? How uncomfortable is that?”
I took a sip of my iced tea. “Yes. Greer does the unbelievable all the time.”
“What did your father say to Rui?”
“After all the yelling? ‘You’re fired’.”
Rogers dipped a French fry in the catsup on her plate. “Talia, now you don’t have a trainer.”
“That’s the least of my worries,” I replied. “I could barely understand the Portuguese accent anyway.”
“If that’s the least,” Rogers said, “what’s the biggest?”
“I’m going to be dragged to a horse show every weekend until Greer qualifies for the Maclay.”
“She hasn’t yet?”
“Maybe she would have if Nicole Boisvert wasn’t at all the same shows, wasn’t just a little bit better and had a horse who managed to stay sound all spring.”
“Go somewhere else, another state.”
“Rui had a plan for her.”
“I guess,” Rogers said, then laughed. “I can’t believe she was...”
“Don’t go there.”
“It was a bit weird hiring a Brazilian to be your trainer.”
“He came well-recommended. Rui was short-listed for the Olympic team.”
Rogers used a paper napkin to wipe her lips, crumpled it up and dropped it onto her plate. “How many is this?”
I had to think for a moment. “Six.”
“Are you counting that woman from Canada?”
“I forgot her.”
“I’m sure your father thought she’d be a safe bet.”
“That’s why Greer made her life miserable and ran her off. It doesn’t matter who is next, we all know what’s going to happen.”
Greer was like her father. Energetic in all he did. Since that was the truth and he knew it, it was hard to complain about her behavior. He tried once but she just threw the truth back in his face and ever since other methods were employed to keep Greer on a leash. It was all as inevitable as a horse rolling in the dirt after a bath.
“What about you?”
“Horse shows are a major bore.”
“Stop going.”
I stood and put money on the table for my share of the bill. “I tried that once. Just once. I have to get home.”
My father didn’t have so much of a temper as a command. When he said something, he meant it and I never wanted to test him.
“Call me later.”
I nodded, opened the door to the café and walked out onto the uneven sidewalk of Newbury. In front of me was the Green; at the north end there was a fountain and at the south end a War memorial statue surrounded by a bed of red geraniums maintained by the local garden club. In the autumn, sheaves of corn would be brought in. In the winter, there would be fairy lights, large red ribbons on the lamp posts and a tree-lighting ceremony with Christmas carols. In the spring, the grass would be brown and the ground would be muddy.
This typical historic New England village had been my home for the past six years but it still didn’t feel like it. It was more like being on an extended excursion with people you didn’t know very well, didn’t want to know and just wanted to go home.
There was no going home again.
Getting in my pickup truck, I sat there for several minutes before turning the key in the ignition. I lived on an eight hundred acre estate in Litchfield County, Connecticut, if I wanted anything, and I did not, all I had to do was ask and it would be mine and I didn’t want to drive back there.
It was easy to understand why Mellissa left after ten days. I’d leave if it was possible. Greer would drive anyone off. The only reason why she didn’t start on me was that she simply didn’t hate me. In some ways, I improved her life by making her look like an excellent rider instead of just a good one. The added bonus was that I made her the most desirable girl in school. As hot as she was, I was perceived to be cold. The only thing a guy could expect to get from me if he tried anything was a boot to the groin.
I reversed the truck out of the parking space and headed back to Bittersweet Farm.
***
“This was an exciting afternoon, wasn’t it?” Jules said as she sautéed the onions, celery and carrots in a pan.
I sat on one of the tall stools next to the island. “Do you understand it?”
“Excuse me?”
“Greer. Why she does these things? Is it one of those things adults always say you’ll understand once you’re older?”
Jules laughed. “No.” She diced a fresh tomato and added it to the baking dish. “I’m not that much older than you are, Tal, and I don’t understand her.”
Jules was the live-in chef. She had been to France to study cooking and after deciding that working in a restaurant was too hectic, working for this household would be so much more relaxing. I couldn’t imagine how she arrived at that conclusion but she seemed happy here. Maybe happier than the rest of us.
***
“Your new coach is arriving the day after tomorrow,” my father announced at dinner.
“Okay,” I replied.
“This time we’re going to be doing things a little bit differently.”
“He’s a eunuch?” I asked.
“Shut up,” Greer snapped.
“You may have heard of him. Lockie Malone.”
Not as famous as one of the Jonas Brothers but everyone on the show circuit had at least heard of Lockie Malone even if he was from California.
He had the reputation of being a wunderkind. Everyone knew the only thing that held him back as a junior rider was money. The last I heard was he had found a rich benefactor in Santa Barbara and was riding for him. I think that man had daughters, too.
“Aren’t you lucky, Greer,” I said to her.
“Shut up.”
***
Jules and I were out on the back patio having raspberry lemonade and almond shortbread when a pickup truck and horse trailer drove down to the barn and stopped.
“That must be him,” she said. “That’s a day early, isn’t it?”
“He drove in too fast to have a horse in the trailer so maybe that has something to do with it,” I replied.
He got out of his truck and walked into the barn.
Everyone was gone for the afternoon. Jules and I were it. Greer was in Millbrook at her friend’s stable, and Pavel had gone to the hardware store in town.
A moment later, he exited from the barn and glanced around the property. There weren’t even horses out in the heat of the day.
“We’re up at the house,” Jules called and gave me a look.
“I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“You’re stuck with him.”
“Until Greer gets too familiar with him and then we’ll have another new trainer.”
Lockie Malone approached.
“Tal, he’s really attractive,” Jules said softly to me.
“Don’t even dream of it.”
“Are you insane? I like it here. The two words I don’t want to hear from your father are ‘you’re fired’.”
“Hi,” he said as he stepped up into the shade of the stone patio and removed his sunglasses. “I’m Lockie Malone.”
As could be predicted, he was tall, lean, and quite tan. The d
ark hair and blue eyes made a winning lotto ticket.
Jules looked at me again. “Sit down and have some lemonade and shortbread cookies.” She reached for a spare glass and the pitcher to pour the icy drink.
He pulled out a chair and sat. “Where is everyone?”
“Are you a day early?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Greer will be disappointed since she was on your welcoming committee.”
“And you are...”
I glanced at Jules. “Talia Margolin.”
“The other sister.”
“Well, we all experience these surprises of fate which impact our lives forever. Make that half-sister.”
He smiled and took a cookie from the platter Jules held out. “Your father said you’d like to be called Talia.”
I believed in strangers treating me as if they didn’t know me because they didn’t. “That’s fine. And you’re the new cruise director.”
“You liked Rui better than me?”
“No.”
“Then there’s hope for me.”
“It’s Greer’s MO to like the trainer in her special way.”
Lockie laughed. “Yes. I heard about it. It’s the talk of the entire East Coast show circuit.”
Beyond being embarrassed by anything Greer did, I pushed back from the table. “Your apartment is over the barn. I’m sure you’ll be able to find it.”
“You’re not going to give me a guided tour?”
“No.”
“Okay. I’m sure I can poke around and find everything I need. Your first riding lesson will be tomorrow at nine.”
“I’ll see you before then.”
“Why?”
“Dinner.”
“The help eats with the family?”
I glared at him. “Julietta is a first class chef.”
Jules held out her hand. “Jules is sufficient and you’re welcome to eat with us for every meal.”
He reached out and shook her hand.
“Enjoy it while you’re here,” I said standing up. “You won’t be staying that long.”
Lockie laughed as I went back into the house.
Chapter Two
Going up the backstairs, I continued down the hallway to my bedroom where I lay on the bed. If I called Greer to say he had arrived, she’d drive home even faster than normal.
She wanted a Porsche so that’s what she got and drove as though every road was the Autobahn. I asked for a used pickup truck but my father got me a new one. “You don’t want to buy other people’s trouble.”
Not in this family where we were perfectly capable of creating our own trouble, thanks.
My cell phone rang and I pulled it out of my pocket. It was Rogers.
“Hi. Do you want to go to the movies tonight?”
“Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”
“I just found out. They’re running Après-Midi Étoiles at the Thaden Theater.”
“Is it another French art film from the 1960’s?”
“Yes! They’re so sensual, so sexy, so adult.”
“So boring.”
“Please, Tal.”
“Not tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Lockie Malone showed up a day early.”
“Are you kidding me?! What’s he like?”
“He won’t last the month.”
Rogers gasped. “He’s that cute?”
“Oh, yeah. Greer will be on him like a foxhound on a scent.”
“Can I come over?”
“Yes. You can pick up me for the movie around dinner and see him probably for the first and last time.”
“Has Greer seen him yet?”
“She’s in Millbrook, so no, she’s not home. I was just wondering if I should call her or let it be a surprise.”
***
Two hours later my door was flung open.
“You bitch!” Greer shouted at me.
“What now?” I didn’t look up from the ebook I was reading.
“Lockie Malone arrived and you didn’t call me?”
I put the reader in my lap. “I called. Did you check your voice mail?”
She paused.
“Right. Well, you look beautiful after your day at the spa. Put on something nice so he can’t resist you and then we can get onto the next trainer. Hopefully that one will be old and wrinkled and last more than a week.”
Greer paused in the doorway. “Is he cute?”
“Very handsome; I’m sure you’ll find him extremely agreeable.”
After a day at the spa, she had new blond highlights in her shoulder length hair that gold earrings would complement perfectly. Greer sparkled in the sun, not like me. I had dark brown hair and brown eyes and if miles away from my half-sister, I could be considered pretty enough. But Greer was born to be the center of attention and she sought it out.
My father encouraged her. He encouraged me, too, but it didn’t do much good. I was immune to anonymous praise.
Greer had always adored going to horse shows. The idea of all eyes being on her was like an aphrodisiac and she blossomed with the attention.
I liked to ride but didn’t want to compete, especially not against Greer because the outcome was predictable. Yet every year, I found myself at the same shows in the same classes with Greer pinning above me. Part of the reason was that she held no allegiance or affection for any horse and could switch them every season for a newer, shinier model. I was still riding the same horse given me the year my mother died. If I had to attend the shows against my will, at least I wanted to do it with my best friend.
Greer’s shower ran and ran while I picked out an oxford shirt and trousers to wear to dinner. We didn’t change for lunch unless there were guests, but dinner had other rules, clean and neat being at the top of the list. I gave my hair a quick brush, pulled it back into a clip and went downstairs to the dining room.
Jules entered with the salad. “It’s just the three of us.”
“Why?”
“Lockie called and said he apologized but after the long drive from Kentucky, he wanted to end the day early. He’ll see you in the morning.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” I replied, sitting down. “There’s nothing to eat over there.”
“I sent a basket over with Pavel.”
Greer came into the room and looked around in confusion. “Where is he?”
“You’ll have to wait till tomorrow,” I replied.
“I got all dressed up for nothing?”
Jules patted Greer’s arm. “You look lovely.”
***
From my bedroom window, I could see the barn as well as the lower pastures and often sat there watching the horses graze in the cool night air. When I turned off the lamp on my nightstand, the lights in the apartment over the barn were dark.
***
Greer made a huge production of getting ready for the riding lesson. I put on chaps over my jeans while she slithered into last year’s show breeches and her brown field boots polished to a high shine. She looked like a model for the Dover Saddlery catalog.
When I went into the barn, Tracy, the local girl who was part of our crew, had Sans Egal on crossties tacked and ready to go. I got Butch ready myself as always; he nickered to me as I approached and offered him a carrot. He took it from my hand and I ran my hand down his sleek neck, hoping for if not the best at least not the worst.
Ten minutes later, I was mounted and walking him around the outdoor ring.
Greer trotted up to me. “He’s late.”
I glanced at my watch. “Not by my watch.”
She glanced at her blue-faced Rolex. “Wear a real watch that keeps time for change.”
I wore a cheap watch in the barn, anything priced around $10 because I broke several each season.
“I’m telling Dad.”
“You’re going to tattle on him?” I asked.
“Report back on his newest employee,” Greer corrected, giving me a look and trotted of
f to warm up.
That he was already on her bad side, might not be the most unfortunate thing that ever happened to him.
“Good morning, ladies,” Lockie said as he walked into the ring, after closing the gate behind him.
He was wearing close-fitting black jeans, paddock boots, a blue polo shirt and sunglasses.
“You’re late, don’t let it happen again,” Greer said. “I have things to do today.”
Lockie glanced at his watch. “Right on time according to the Atomic Clock.”
“It doesn’t matter what the time is on the Atomic Clock, your watch is off,” Greer retorted.
“By how much?” He asked.
“Three minutes,” she snapped back.
“Then you can leave three minutes early.”
Greer shook her head.
I thought this was starting out very well. She was already annoyed with him.
Or it was foreshadowing. I wasn’t sure yet which.
“Take the rail and trot, please.”
“Are we going to have a real lesson?”
“It’s up to you, Miss Swope. It all depends on how much effort you want to put in on this.”
“I don’t have time to kill. I haven’t qualified for the National yet.”
The National Horse Show was the center of her life. It always had been. What happened next year when we weren’t juniors any longer was not worth considering.
“I have a show in two weeks,” Greer said as she trotted around the ring.
“I understand.”
“I keep losing to Nicole. What makes her so great?”
“She has a very good horse and a very strong work ethic,” Lockie replied. “I saw her ride last month at Devon.”
The Devon Horse Show and County Fair in Pennsylvania was one of the most prestigious in the country. It was also one of the oldest horse shows in the East having begun in the late 1800’s. We had attended a few times but in the past couple years Greer decided it was too far to go when she could just as easily be closer to home.
“Do I need a new horse? Because if I do, that shouldn’t get in my way.”
“Why don’t you just concentrate on your riding for the next fifty-two minutes?” Lockie suggested.
“All I want are results,” Greer replied. “Your life will be so much better if I get them.”
Bittersweet Farm 1: Mounted Page 1
