Perfect Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 3)

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Perfect Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 3) Page 4

by Michele Scott


  I shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know. She was never convicted, so nobody knows what part she actually played. All I know for sure is that Joel hated his stepmom and her daughter, Paisley. That girl definitely seemed like an awful stepsister to get stuck with—mean and vindictive, and not just because she wanted Joel’s horse. She put off a bad vibe in general. And she had the weirdest boyfriend too. He got all aggro on Joel during a dinner we all had together. Granted, Joel was pretty angry after they threatened to take away Melody, but there was something more going on. I think Paisley’s boyfriend was shady. I have to wonder if they’ll show up this summer. Their family has strong ties to Liberty Farms, because Tiffany worked here as a successful trainer for years.”

  “I’ve been here for a week and haven’t seen any of these people you’re talking about, except for that Chris kid.”

  My stomach sinks because, although I should be elated at the possibility of not seeing Paisley, her weird boyfriend, and Joel’s stepmother, I also do want to see them. If anyone will have the answers I’m seeking about Joel’s death, it’s them. “Maybe they’ll show up.”

  “I don’t know. Are you sure you’re not on a wild goose chase?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay, then. Tomorrow, I start making friends with Chris Haverly.”

  “What?” I almost choke on a French fry.

  “Yeah. If you think this guy is up to something and that he might know what happened to Joel, then I need to work on getting him to trust me.”

  My stomach sinks, but what he’s saying makes sense. I once told Riley that keeping your enemies closer than your friends was the best way to get answers; apparently, Austen has the same philosophy.

  And, speaking of Riley, I’m going to have to do with him exactly what Austen plans to do with Chris: I need to go back to making him my BFF. The icky part is, I’ll be trying to build fake trust between us—to get him to confide in me. Does that make me a liar? I’m not sure I want to know.

  CHAPTER six

  On the drive back, Austen is quiet, which is unusual for him, since he usually banters nonstop. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, because I’m not used to this more thoughtful side of my friend. Maybe he’s regretting his offer to help me figure out what happened to Joel.

  He’s had the stereo turned up on a Radiohead song. I turn it down and he glances at me. “Everything okay?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. Is it? You’ve been really quiet since we left the restaurant.”

  He doesn’t answer right away, and it increases my doubts. He pulls the car to the side of the road and parks. “I could lie and tell you that everything is okay, and that I was just deep in thought. I mean . . .” He pauses and glances at me. “I mean, I was deep in thought, but only because I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you something all evening. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise with all our talk about the Joel situation. And here’s the thing—I do want to help you with that. I think you’re right that something bad might have happened. But there’s also something else on my mind.”

  “You’re confusing me, Austen,” I say.

  “I’m sorry, Viv. It’s just that, well, there are a couple things that I have to say out loud, but I’m not sure how to get started.”

  I take his hand and squeeze. “We’re friends. You can say anything to me. You know that, right?”

  He nods. “Friends. Yeah. I know. Okay, here goes. I think that you know how I feel about you. I haven’t exactly made that a secret in the past six months. When you wound up with Tristan, I was pretty crushed, but I kept reminding myself that we were friends and that we’d always be friends.”

  “You’re right. We will.”

  “I don’t know any other way to say this so that you get it, but I love you, Vivienne. When we were eight and you pushed me into the pond on that trail ride that we were all on, and you laughed like a lunatic because I was wet and muddy, I loved you then. Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve felt this way. All the years of me teasing you, joking with you, and acting like a total goofball was just my way of covering up how much I think about you. You’ve been the only girl who has mattered in my world for a really long time.”

  I stare at him for a few seconds as my brain processes what he’s said. Then, instead of saying a word, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him hard. I’ve kissed Austen before, but, right away, this feels different. It has more behind it. I don’t feel embarrassed or like I’m holding back, and I’m not scared. When our lips meet I feel like I’m melting from the inside out, not that it’s possible, but the sensation is like something solid turning to liquid. He starts to explore my mouth with his tongue, and my entire body tingles. As the kiss goes on and time seems to stop, I feel like I’m floating in a place where I can’t think but can only feel. His hand moves to my lower back and I press against him, making the kiss deeper with a kind of intensity that’s totally new to me.

  Slowly, the two of us pull apart. He sits back and so do I, neither of us saying anything for a minute. I’m still trying to catch my breath. Being with Tristan never, ever felt like this, even though I thought it was incredible at the time.

  He breaks the silence with, “What does this mean?”

  I smile at him. “It means that, I guess, I feel about you a lot the way you feel about me.” As the words come out, I know they’re weak, because I love him too. But I just broke up with someone who I thought I loved and I’m not sure how to make this type of transition so quickly.

  He nods and laughs. “You are so you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means just that. Don’t worry about it. I think I know you well enough to know what kind of a kiss that was. But the thing is, if we’re really going to take this next step, and try to step out of the friend zone, we might have some challenges. Big ones, that go beyond the fact that we might not know how to act around each other once we’re more than friends.”

  “Challenges?”

  “Yeah. Challenges. The first one is that you just got out of a relationship. You’re my friend first, so I respect that, and I don’t want you to feel a ton of pressure to make some big decision about us.”

  I nod. “I appreciate that. I really do. But, honestly, the further away I get from Tristan emotionally, the more I realize that we weren’t really meant to be together. We’re too different. He’s far better suited for Lydia, which maybe he knew all along. Because, according to a revealing photo I received via text, they were back together before Tristan and I ever officially broke up.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yep.”

  “But that’s what I mean,” he says. “I don’t want be your rebound after a bad thing like that. I don’t want you to be with me just because you know me well and it’s easy.”

  I frown. “Austen, you just said it . . . we were friends first. We’ve known each other for over ten years. We’ve grown up together. Being with you could never be about a rebound. It would be about us exploring new feelings together and seeing where they lead us.”

  He reaches over and pulls me in close to his chest, where I can hear his heart beating loud and fast. “I like that.”

  I notice something that I’m not sure I ever noticed before about him—he smells really, really good, like spice and soap, and something almost citrus-like, I think. I don’t know why, but the way he smells and feels sends my own heartbeat into overdrive. I wonder if he can tell. I’m pretty sure I could stay like this for a very long time—in this kind of surreal state where I’m just beginning to realize that the boy I’ve known my whole life has just declared his love for me. And that, for the first time, I might be sure that I love him too.

  Then I remember the word he just used after his declaration—challenges. I speak up. “We dealt with challenge number one. You’re worried about me using you as a rebound, and now that you know that can’t be the case, what else is on
your list?”

  “This one might be a bit tough.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re here on scholarship and you’re seventeen.”

  “A month and a half to go until I’m eighteen,” I chime in.

  “Yes, but those six weeks matter. I’m here as a working student and will be nineteen in a week. One of the first rules we were given when we arrived is that as working students we aren’t allowed to ‘fraternize’ with the students who are here to train. Most of us are older than all of you and I think that’s the main reason. There are some legalities there.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh. I don’t want to lose my job and I don’t want you to lose your scholarship. But I also don’t want to lose you. This is our chance to see if the ‘new us’ works. We’re both going back to separate schools in the fall, so now is the time. We might not have another chance to find out where this thing might be headed.”

  I sigh, feeling truly sorry for the first time that Austen ended up at UC Davis in Northern California instead of, say, UCLA, where he’d be closer to me and the Fairmont campus. Then again, Davis is a great school for equestrians, and I wouldn’t want anything to stand in the way of Austen getting to spend time with horses at college.

  “Then there is only one thing to do.”

  “What’s that?” he asks.

  “We’ll have to sneak around.”

  His eyes widen and one of his silly grins spreads across his face. “We could get into a lot of trouble if we get caught.”

  “Well, really, what could we get caught at?”

  He laughs. “Technically, I’m not even supposed to take you off the farm without one other person with us, so I’ve already broken the rules tonight.”

  “We’ve broken a lot of rules in our day. Remember when we were little kids and Gail told us we weren’t supposed to ride without an adult?” I smile as I think of our former coach. “Broke that one a few times.”

  “And we got busted when we jumped without her there and I wound up falling off and breaking my arm.”

  “I still can’t believe that happened,” I say. “It was a little cross rail.”

  “My horse wasn’t exactly coordinated.”

  “You’re right. You had that funky chestnut pony, Harry, who just wanted to be a trail horse.” As the words come out, I realize that they shouldn’t have.

  “He did only want to be a trail horse, you’re right,” says Austen. “The only time he was ever sure-footed was on the trails.”

  I swallow hard. Being able to read horses’ feelings and thoughts means you have to be a little bit paranoid about what you say; you never want to give away a detail that could only have come directly from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. I remember the day quite well when Austen’s pony tripped on the cross rail and Austen flew off, landing on his right arm and screeching in pain as it broke. Gail had arrived about ten minutes after his accident, and I knew on top of everything else that we were going to get a real earful, because we had broken the rules. Our other friend, Mia, had called Austen’s mom. I’d brought Austen some ice, and then put Harry back in Gail’s barn. I’d whispered to Harry as I stroked his face, “Why did you get caught up in the cross rail?”

  In his way, through images, Harry had shown me that he didn’t feel safe picking up his legs and knees. He’d also showed me an image of a shady path through the woods, and I’d realized that he felt safer and happier on a trail ride. Had I just given myself away by making it clear I knew the horse’s feelings? I watch Austen’s face, then feel relieved as his normal expression proves without a doubt that he still has no inkling about my weird gift. It was a stroke of luck that my little mistake could be so easily passed off.

  “We’ve definitely broken a few rules in our day. That’s true.” Austen laughs and I feel my paranoia completely subside. “But this time, the consequences could be a bit more severe if we’re found out. It’s kind of like we’re at camp—you’re the kid and I’m the counselor.”

  I sock him gently on the shoulder. He feigns as if he’s been hurt.

  “I am not a kid,” I say. “And you are not my counselor.”

  “Ah, you’re good with being a rule breaker, then?”

  “I’m good with it,” I reply. “Besides, if we’re going to find out what really happened to Joel, I think we’ll be doing plenty of sneaking around in that area too.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  I wait for him to turn the engine back on, but I can tell he has something else he wants to say. “What is it?” I ask. “Maybe another challenge for us will be that we know each other well enough to know when there’s something more to say, or something wrong, or . . .”

  “It’s your dad, Vivvie.”

  “What?” I shake my head. “What’re you talking about? My dad?”

  He faces me and takes both of my hands. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I just found out myself before I picked you up. I wanted to tell you first thing.”

  “Tell me what?” I can hear and feel the emotion catching in the back of my throat.

  “Your dad trains just down the road. He lives only a mile away. And he teaches at Liberty Farms.”

  CHAPTER seven

  I feel completely shell-shocked as Austen starts the car and drives us back to Liberty Farms. Instead of parking in an obvious place, he kills the headlights and we pull into a dark spot by the barns so I can get out of the car unnoticed.

  He reaches over and puts a hand on my leg. “I would’ve told you at dinner, but I didn’t know how to,” he says. “It’s kind of a big thing . . . it’s a huge thing, actually. And we were already talking about a big thing with Joel. And then I had to explain how I felt about you, and I don’t know—maybe there was some part of me that wanted to completely ignore it, and hope it would go away. To be honest, all of me wanted that, because I know how badly your father hurt you and what you went through after he left. Let’s face it . . . you kind of have trust issues, and who wouldn’t after all that you’ve been through? I blame him for hurting you.”

  I look at him with tears in my eyes and lay my hand over his. “You’re right. You are. I don’t know how you could’ve told me in any other way than you did. I know this had to be hard for you.”

  “You’re not mad at me?”

  “No.” I shake my head and Austen wipes away my tears with his free hand, then pulls me in close.

  “What are you going to do?” he asks.

  I slump back in the leather seat of the car. “I don’t know. I kind of want to run home.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I know. I didn’t say that I was going to. Just that I kind of want to. Maybe it’s time that I deal with it. Maybe it’s time that I confront my dad and hash this out. I mean, it can’t all be coincidence that I’m here for the summer and my father lives up the road.”

  “Life works like that sometimes, I think. It’s all kind of mysterious.”

  I nod and turn to get out of the car, then think better of it and turn back to Austen for a quick kiss. But what I expect to be a peck turns into something more when I can’t pull my lips away from his and he cups the back of my head. As we fit ourselves together perfectly, my insides feel like they’re turning to liquid again. Knowing I should go, and worried we’ll be seen, I pull away and stare at him.

  “Where did you learn to kiss like that? Or maybe I don’t want to know,” I say. “I just can’t believe I never guessed things could be like this.”

  He smiles. “Believe me, Vivvie. I never learned anything. Let’s just say you inspire me. And don’t worry. Nothing I’ve ever been through can compare to these kisses. They’re different. We’re different.”

  I nod. “Okay, well that’s good news. I’m glad to hear you’re not some secret celebrity kisser or something.”

  He laughs. “You shou
ld go. I’ll stay here in the car. We really don’t want to be seen.”

  “I’d kiss you again, but then I’ll never go,” I say. With that, I hop out of the car and head back to the cabin.

  Luckily, nobody else is around when I arrive, which is a relief. I’m glad neither Lydia nor Janna are back yet. I can’t help but wonder who our new roommate is. There’s a backpack and suitcase on the floor near Lydia’s bunk that I don’t recognize. Obviously Lydia’s dream of being moved to another cabin isn’t becoming a reality since her crap is still here.

  I brush my teeth and climb into my bunk, but once there, I realize there’s no way I’m going right to sleep. Inevitably I find myself thinking about my father, and remembering the day I woke up and found out he was gone. I also can’t stop thinking about Austen. Diverse feelings all around, from anger and sadness over my dad to pure elation over what’s happening between Austen and me.

  Finally, I hear Janna’s footsteps, but I pretend to be asleep.

  More thoughts race through my mind as Janna starts to snore, then I hear the giggling that I know belongs to Lydia and Tristan’s deep voice outside. I pull a pillow over my head and keep it there for a long time, so I won’t have to see that wicked little bitch come inside. It’s around then that I fall asleep.

  When I wake up, it’s still dark outside, so I know it’s early. I stretch and yawn. Then I blink several times as I notice who is in the top bunk across from mine. “Emily?” I’m too surprised to remember to whisper.

  Her eyes open and she sits up. “Hey, Vivienne.”

  “Why are you two talking?” Lydia yells. “It’s the middle of the night. Shut up.”

  “What’s going on?” Janna asks sleepily.

  “Nothing,” Emily Davenport and I answer simultaneously. We decide to ignore Lydia, who buries her head under her pillow.

  “So you’re our fourth roommate?” I ask.

  She nods. “Here I am.”

  I know Emily pretty well, because she also attends Fairmont. She barely qualified to come and train for the summer at Liberty Farms. And I hadn’t expected to see her, since a week before we were all supposed to arrive, I received an e-mail from her saying that she wasn’t coming. She’d just left it at that—no explanation.

 

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