Jessica’s eyes met Liz’s, and Liz noticed Jessica’s sorrowful expression. “Is everything okay, Jess?” She asked.
“I’m fine, just daydreaming,” Jessica replied. She forced herself to smile reassuringly at Liz, who smiled back with warmth, and, Jessica thought gratefully, encouragement. Liz had been a godsend to Jessica since the accident, and had supported Jessica in many ways. It suddenly became clear to Jessica that it wasn’t just Hailey she was doing this for, but Liz. She owed Liz so much, and now that Jessica was in a position to help her, she had to go on.
Now Jessica, Liz, and Blake’s sister Charlotte were flying to Hamburg, Germany, to test ride the brilliant, but according to rumors, troublesome stallion, Tempest, owned by the German breeder August Mendelssohn. Charlotte McMillan was a beautiful woman in her mid-30’s dressed in the height of fashion, and to Jessica and Liz’s delight, was an amateur dressage rider herself.
Unlike her brother Blake, Charlotte was warm and friendly, and Jessica liked her immediately. Charlotte admitted that she accompanied them not just to act as Blake’s representative to ensure they were in direct contact with Blake for negotiations with the stallion’s owner, but also out of curiosity about the stallion they were traveling to see. Charlotte also related that immediately prior to boarding the jet, Blake called to let her know Mendelssohn had informed him there was another potential buyer in the picture, and that Blake wanted Charlotte to reassure Jessica that all of his resources were available to put toward the effort to get Tempest for Jessica. The identity of the third party was still a mystery, and the potential that their plans could come to naught had them all much more nervous than they would have otherwise been.
The women spent the several hours of the flight getting to know each other better, and Jessica started to relax and enjoy the time away from her many responsibilities at home. Charlotte, she learned, was a dedicated amateur dressage rider who occasionally competed at the Prix St. George level on a beautiful Danish Warmblood gelding with the rather intimidating registered name Matador’s Sword. Charlotte laughed as she explained that “Mattie” was gentle as a kitten, and very spoiled. As Charlotte showed Jessica and Liz some cell phone video of her riding Mattie at a recent horse show, Jessica had to admit the two made a compelling pair. Trainer to the core, Liz had offered Charlotte some advice when she indicated there were some trouble spots in the test, and Charlotte understood and expressed her appreciation for the advice.
The conversation turned to the reason for their trip. “I’m really looking forward to seeing this stallion in person,” Charlotte said. “I’ve heard so much about him, and his video was very impressive.”
“Yes,” Liz said. “I’m looking forward to watching Jessica ride him. From what I’ve seen in the video, and what I know of this horse’s breeding, I think they’ll be a great fit.”
“I understand from the USDF that the German rider, Hermann Wolfe, was getting disappointing results from Tempest, and that Mendelssohn himself took the stallion away from Wolfe.”
Jessica wasn’t certain she should believe the rumors, but the thought that an international class rider had been having trouble riding Tempest did not help calm her nerves. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help being excited about the prospect of having this horse to ride in competition as she looked at the women sitting across from her, “Charlotte, did Blake happen to mention how much Mendelssohn is asking for Tempest?”
“He did say one million dollars, but I don’t know how firm that number is. Blake has given me permission to negotiate on his behalf, and has also instructed me to call him if Mendelssohn tries to raise the price above a million. As I told you before we left, Blake said that Mendelssohn told him there was another party interested in the stallion, and that he would be at the farm at the same time we are. If true, it’s obviously a blatant attempt by Mendelssohn to encourage a bidding war between two prospective buyers. Not an unheard of practice, but not very professional, if you ask me.”
“Did he happen to say who this other prospective buyer is?” Liz asked.
“No. But it’s someone he seems to be taking very seriously according to Blake.” Charlotte turned to Jessica. “Don’t worry Jessica, Blake is committed to buying this stallion. He won’t let anyone outbid him on Tempest.”
“Well, if I wasn’t nervous before, I certainly am now. This is serious business. I have never in my life been near a horse, much less been on a horse, worth a million dollars.”
“I don’t know, Jess,” Liz responded. “Callie is an international class mare, and although I didn’t pay that much for her, at one time she could have commanded that kind of price.”
“You’re right, Liz. I sometimes forget how lucky I am to have a chance to ride such a talented and special horse as Callie. Thank you so much for trusting me with her.”
Liz smiled. “I wouldn’t have allowed you anywhere near Callie if I thought you couldn’t handle her or treat her kindly, Jess. You must know that.”
Jessica blushed at the praise implied in Liz’s statement. “I suppose that’s true Liz, but the amount of trust you’ve shown me these past few years humbles me. Callie is really a special horse.”
Liz nodded in agreement. “She definitely is, but without you, she would never have been able to fulfill her potential. I can’t help but think your appearance at my farm was divine intervention. Callie was not happy when I decided to retire her from competition before she was really ready. I’m so glad the two of you found such success before she was injured.”
“Well,” Charlotte interrupted, “I hate to stop this love fest, but I’d like to get some sleep before we land. I recommend you do the same. You want to be sharp and not jet-lagged when we go to meet your next horse.” The women laughed together and settled in to sleep for a few hours before they arrived in Germany.
It wasn’t long before the pilot woke them with the announcement that the jet was preparing for landing. Blake had arranged for a car and driver to pick up the trio at the airport, and after they made their way through Customs, they were on their way to the Mendelssohn farm in a stylish black Range Rover. After having talked for most of the plane ride over, and even after a few hours of sleep probably suffering from more than a bit of jet-lag as well after a six-hour flight, the women stayed mostly silent as they drove through the German countryside to the farm just a twenty-minute drive from Hamburg.
Jessica’s first thoughts were of Hailey, and she checked her cell phone to make sure Hailey hadn’t tried to call her while they were in the air. She had not, but that didn’t prevent Jessica from wondering how Hailey was doing on her own. This was the first time since the accident 5 years ago that Jessica had left Hailey alone for more than a day or two. Jessica couldn’t help but be worried about her, even if her mind told her there was really nothing to be concerned about.
Jessica’s thoughts were interrupted as Charlotte said from the front seat, “Jess, Liz, look. There’s the Mendelssohn Farm.”
Jessica looked back out the window and saw the large, painted wood sign with the Mendelssohn name and horse head symbol carved boldly in relief, and as their driver took them down the driveway, a group of stables and other outbuildings all formed of a beautifully aged red brick with taupe painted wood shutters appeared. The entrances to each building were arched and nearly two stories tall, offering a look inside that revealed wide brick aisles with polished wood stall doors and decorative iron hardware. All of the buildings were constructed in matching architectural style, and the stables appeared spotless, not a speck of dust or dirt was visible inside. The exterior was also immaculate and the landscaping was artfully and professionally done.
In the distance, Jessica noticed an outdoor riding arena, and in it someone was riding the most spectacular horse she had ever seen. Without a doubt, this horse had to be Tempest. He was at least seventeen hands tall, solid black, with no white markings on
his body at all. His body was perfectly proportioned, with a nicely crested neck and powerfully built hindquarters. He moved smoothly, powerfully and effortlessly for the man riding him, and the pair performed as though they had been training together for months, if not years. This must be Mendelssohn’s trainer, she thought. She noticed there were two men watching the pair perform. One of the men was clearly Mendelssohn, an older man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in a tweed wool jacket and corduroy slacks, and wearing a brown plaid driving cap. He was a bit short and stocky but held himself proudly as the owner of the magnificent beast performing for them. The other man was younger, taller, and wore riding boots and breeches. This must be the other potential buyer. Jessica thought. As their car approached the outdoor arena parking area, the men looking on turned to see who had just arrived. Mendelssohn smiled in welcome. The other man kept his face impassive and looked at the women without a hint of a smile. Clearly they were not welcome as far as that gentleman was concerned.
“Greetings, ladies, and welcome to Mendelssohn Farm.” Herr Mendelssohn smiled broadly and shook each of their hands. “May I introduce Mr. Lionel Hayes?” Lionel smiled and shook each ladies’ hand as well, but the smile was blatantly insincere, a fact they all instantly noticed. “And you may recognize the gentleman riding Tempest. He is, of course, Mr. Michael Stafford.”
Jessica couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips as her attention immediately fixed on the man astride the magnificent black stallion. Of course, they all knew who Michael Stafford was. He had won team and individual gold medals at last summer’s Olympic Games riding the incredible Danish Warmblood stallion, Romeo. The pair was famous, and had scored the highest marks in international dressage competition anyone had ever seen, setting a new World Record in their Grand Prix Special test which served to elevate the British team to the gold medal. Everyone expected the pair to dominate international competition for the foreseeable future, until suddenly and unexpectedly, Romeo’s owners reclaimed the stallion and took him out of competition so that they could capitalize on his fame by offering him up for stud.
The dressage community was shocked by the owners’ blatant abandonment of Michael, but ultimately had to acknowledge that the stallion’s owners, having invested as much money as they had in the horse, had every right to do with him as they pleased.
Michael, from all accounts, was devastated by the loss of his mount, and had yet to find a new horse to compete internationally. Rumor also had it that Michael’s sudden exit from the international spotlight triggered the loss of his fiancée as well, which in turn had triggered a great deal of bad behavior fueled by excessive drinking.
As she watched from just outside the fence, Jessica couldn’t help but admire the way Michael masterfully controlled the obviously powerful and, if rumors were correct, willful stallion with apparent ease. As Michael rode Tempest through a relaxed passage into a perfectly executed piaffe, then back to passage with clear transitions between the movements, Jessica’s attention moved from the pair as a unit to Michael himself. He had long, muscular legs that hugged Tempest’s body perfectly, and his position on the horse was classically perfect.
Even though he was wearing a jacket, Jessica could see he had broad shoulders, and muscular arms. She could also see that his long, gloved fingers were lightly playing with Tempest’s mouth through the reins and double bridle, and the sensitivity he displayed in that moment took Jessica’s breath away. His face was partially hidden by his safety helmet, but she could see that he was completely focused on the horse he was riding, his square jaw looking set, and she could see his lips moving slightly, as if he were talking quietly to Tempest as he rode him. She could also see the stallion responding to his voice and touch, as his ears flicked back and forth several times as they moved around the arena. The softness she could see in Michael’s expression and the slight smile on his face instantly communicated to Jessica that Michael was clearly enjoying himself as he put Tempest through his paces.
Jessica had never seen such an instant rapport between a human being and horse, and she was awed by the experience.
Michael’s attention was focused entirely on the horse he was riding, and only marginally noticed the three women that had just arrived and who were watching him with open admiration. He could also tell that Tempest realized he had a new audience. His energy level increased just a bit, and his neck arched in a blatant display of masculine pride. He puffed himself up and snorted briefly and loudly to ensure he had everyone’s attention. “So, old man, you see you have a new audience to perform for,” Michael said softly, “I don’t blame you for wanting to show off a bit for the ladies, but do me a favor, and behave yourself. Take my word for it, ladies don’t appreciate rudeness in their males, no matter the persuasion.”
The stallion seemed to understand Michael’s words, because he instantly settled into a relaxed and powerful canter, as Michael guided him to execute a perfect canter pirouette before moving easily into a canter half pass followed by an effortless flying lead change at the rail. “Well done, boy. Splendid!” Michael smiled and praised Tempest, gave him a brief pat on the neck just above the withers, and reluctantly transitioned back to walk, allowing Tempest to have a long rein and stretch. He noticed there was a groom waiting to finish cooling the stallion out, so he halted and proceeded to dismount. As he ran up the stirrup leathers, he steeled himself to meet the three women who had just arrived. He reminded himself that these women were the competition, and he selfishly hoped they had observed how well he and Tempest had fit. He knew after having ridden this horse that he had to have Tempest for his own.
Before returning Tempest to the groom, Michael took a few moments to stroke Tempest’s powerful neck, rub his withers, and murmur his thanks to the stallion for being on his best behavior. He handed Tempest’s reins to the groom and turned to approach the group at the fence. “Herr Mendelssohn, you have my compliments. Tempest is a magnificent animal.”
“Many thanks, Mr. Stafford,” Mendelssohn replied, “It’s clear you have a rapport with the horse that I have seldom seen in my experience.”
“I have to agree,” Liz said, “Mr. Stafford, you rode the horse masterfully.”
Michael turned his attention to the woman. “Thank you, Miss . . .?”
Mendelssohn noticed the hesitation and realized that Michael had not yet been introduced to his audience. He quickly moved to introduce the women. “Michael Stafford, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Elizabeth Randall, Miss Charlotte McMillan, and Miss Jessica Warren.” It was Elizabeth Randall who had spoken to him, but as he was introduced to each of the women, his attention was drawn not to the fashionably dressed woman standing immediately to Mrs. Randall’s left, but to the tall young woman standing next to her.
Miss Jessica Warren was an attractive mahogany brunette in her mid-to-late 20’s he guessed, with skin tanned a golden brown by many hours outdoors, and a slim, but not too slim figure. She had a long, straight nose, and square, but delicate chin. It was her eyes, though, that caught and held his attention. They were bright green with gold and brown flecks under perfectly arched brows, but what struck him most about them was not only the intelligence, but the maturity they reflected. Miss Warren’s eyes reflected a wisdom not often seen in women her age and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a hint of sadness as well. He also noticed small worry lines gracing her brow not normally present on the faces of women her age. He found himself wondering what the source of her worries might be, and whether he might be able to relieve her of whatever burden she was carrying. Surprised at the direction his thoughts had taken, Michael quickly shifted his gaze from Jessica to address Liz directly.
“Thank you, Mrs. Randall. Coming from you that is high praise, indeed.” He had heard of Elizabeth Randall, and knew that she was a well-respected American dressage rider and trainer with a great deal of experience competing on the international stage, and knew at that moment that t
his competition was going to be serious. “As you probably know, I’m no longer riding Romeo, and am looking for a new mount. Tempest is a magnificent animal, and Herr Mendelssohn was kind enough to allow me an opportunity to try him out.”
“We’re also here at Herr Mendelssohn’s invitation to try Tempest out,” Liz replied. “Jessica needs a mount capable of competing at the World Cup next year, and possibly the Olympics three years from now. Tempest is one of the few horses in the world available now for sale that has the training and international experience Jessica needs. We’re serious about purchasing him. Herr Mendelssohn has agreed to allow Jessica to ride Tempest tomorrow before any decisions are made about his future.”
“If Herr Mendelssohn has agreed,” Michael said. “I have no problem with that.”
Jessica felt the tension between Liz and Michael Stafford, and looked at Charlotte for guidance. Her eyebrows lifted in question. What’s going on here? Should I be worried? Charlotte almost imperceptibly shook her head to indicate no. Nothing to worry about.
“Of course, of course,” Mendelssohn interjected in an attempt to defuse tension. “I had always intended for both of you to ride Tempest before any decisions are made about his future. Miss Warren will ride him tomorrow.”
During the somewhat tense interaction between Michael and Liz, Jessica made some judgments of her own about Michael Stafford. Jessica could clearly see that the photos she had seen of him in the magazines didn’t do him justice. If anything, he was even more handsome in person than he was in the magazines. His clear, cobalt blue eyes seemed to look right through her, and contrasted strikingly with his thick, wavy jet-black hair. He was tall, probably about six feet, two inches, and athletically built.
Dressage Dreaming (Horses Heal Hearts Book 1) Page 4
