by Belle Ami
The warm-up went well, with both horse and rider finding their distances. The practice ring was crowded, and Prince was a little hyper. He didn’t like being in a ring with other horses—they infringed on his domain. He tossed his head and pulled on the reins. Adelia worried that he might grow careless with all the distractions, so she intentionally rode him deep into a jump, knocking down the rail. She knew that the sting on his hooves and the loud sound would remind Prince to focus and be more careful. He would now do anything to avoid hitting another rail.
She was the fifth rider to enter the ring; none of the four before her had gone clean. She cantered into the ring with such deep concentration that the applause from the stands did not penetrate her awareness. The only sounds she was aware of were her own heartbeat and Prince’s hooves drumming rhythmically on the turf. She was vaguely aware of the horse-show official’s voice, announcing her name: “Adelia Ann Lindstrom, Prince of Flight, entry number seven seventeen.” She halted Prince and backed him up a few steps as she once more surveyed the field and its jumps. The crowd in the stands hushed. She gathered Prince into a steady canter to the driving rock anthem “We Will Rock You,” which matched the thunder of Prince’s hooves as he galloped toward the first jump and easily cleared it.
There were days when, no matter how prepared you were, an extra stride on a course or a back hoof’s kick could mean the difference between a clean ride and knocking down a rail. Winning or losing hung in the balance. For Adelia and Prince, today was the kind of ride that every competitor dreamed of. Rider and horse were in perfect sync, and the most difficult fences were so perfectly executed that Adelia and Prince made them look easy. Two minutes later, it was no surprise when horse and rider brought home a clean ride in record time. Adelia and Prince exited the ring to loud, appreciative applause from the crowd. Adelia’s confidence swelled.
Roxy’s ride was equally breathtaking; however, one time fault put her out of the jump-off. Adelia swallowed her disappointment and focused all of her attention on Prince. With the best time of all the contenders on the preliminary course, she pulled last to go in the jump-off. Sometimes being the last to go was a blessing. The last rider had the advantage of riding with the knowledge of how every rider before her finished, which fences presented the greatest problems, and the time to beat.
The point of the jump-off was for horse and rider to give 100 percent. All-out speed and tossing care to the wind were the only ways to win. The jump-off was usually configured tightly to highlight turn-on-a-dime turns and a few open-field, all-out runs in an abbreviated course. That day, the six-jump course included all of the above. Giving an awe-inspiring performance, Adelia and Prince were not to be denied. They delivered a textbook jump-off that more than once elicited a cry of relief and thunderous applause from the crowd. When Adelia finished as the final rider, she knew instantly from the scoreboard that she had won the day.
Adelia caressed the bright blue ribbon, wishing she could pin it to her mother’s jeans. Faye had always loved to wear Adelia’s winning ribbons on her back pocket, basking in parental pride when Adelia triumphed with a blue-ribbon win. Instead, Adelia pinned the ribbon to an awning and went to see to the horses. Both horses had been bathed, groomed, and fed. She entered Prince’s stall to give him treats and check on him. With her back to the door, she bent to inspect his hocks and hooves, feeling for any irregularities such as swelling, tenderness, or heat. With her concentration focused on Prince, she was completely unaware of the young woman who stood in the shadows, watching her.
“That was quite a ride you had, quite an upset for the rest of the field.”
Adelia was caught off guard and jumped at the unexpected voice. “You should be more careful when you sneak up on someone.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the features behind the voice. “Do I know you?”
The girl stepped from the shadows and offered her hand. “Karolin Bremen from Green Way Farms. I’m sorry if I caught you off guard. We met at the exhibitors’ dinner.”
“Did we? I’m sorry; I don’t remember.” Adelia offered her hand and studied the girl’s features as she spoke.
“Well, it’s not important. I just wanted to congratulate you on your ride and invite you to a small dinner party I’m giving tonight in honor of the winners. I heard about your parents; I’m really sorry. It must have been an awful shock losing them in such a terrible way. I’m an orphan myself; that is, Miles and I are orphans. I know it doesn’t make the pain any less, but I can tell you it will get better. Why don’t you come join us for dinner? It will be good for you to get out, away from the sadness. Besides, you’ll know everyone, and I won’t take no for an answer. You’ll meet my twin brother, Miles. He’s the brilliant one.”
Adelia considered refusing, but something in the girl’s open smile was disarming, and she didn’t have anywhere or anyone to hurry home to. If nothing else, it would distract her for a few moments from the pressing sorrow that trailed her like a shadow. “I can’t stay long, but maybe I’ll stop by and say hello.”
“Great! I’ll expect you at seven at the St. Regis.” Smiling, the girl turned and strode away as silently as she had come…like a cat, Adelia thought.
As Karolin walked, she dialed her cell phone and waited for a voice on the other end to answer. “Hi! You were right! She’s the one! In person it’s even stranger, almost like looking in a mirror. It didn’t take much to convince her to come to the suite at seven. I told her she had to meet you.”
Chapter 7
When Adelia arrived, the large suite was filled with horsey people: owners, trainers, course designers, and riders. There was an air of excitement and confidence among the revelers, who were always up for a celebration after a long day of competition. The suite was large and well appointed, with a piano and floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the turquoise waters of the Pacific. Scores of people greeted her and congratulated her on her victory as she wove through the crowd to the penthouse suite’s terrace. A waiter handed Adelia a glass of champagne as she contemplated the surf that rolled into the shore. The din of laughter, snippets of conversation, and tinkling of the ivories seemed incongruous with the motion of the waves and the sadness that pervaded her thoughts. Attending a party already felt like a mistake. I think I’ll just say hello and make an early exit, she thought as she watched another wave crash upon the shore.
“I’m so glad you decided to come!” Karolin’s arms encircled her in a warm reception that was disconcerting coming from a complete stranger. Once more, Karolin’s approach had caught her unaware. “Come,” Karolin said. Taking Adelia’s hand firmly in her own, she guided her through the room of people, toward a tall man whose back was to them. “Miles, darling, I want you to meet Adelia. She’s the girl that won the Grand Prix.”
“Excuse me.” Miles turned in mid-conversation and ceased talking. All of his attention refocused on the person to whom his sister was introducing him.
Adelia was struck by the serious, penetrating gray eyes that, although smiling, betrayed no laughter. Miles was obscenely handsome, and she sensed that he knew it. It was obvious that he could charm a cobra or, for that matter, any woman he chose. She felt herself blush under his scrutiny.
“Well, you gave us quite a thrill today. Congratulations.” He took her hand and bent to kiss it. “I pay homage to a new star on the horizon.” His eyes locked onto hers, daring her to look away.
Her heart beat uncontrollably in her chest as she searched for a response to his prodding.
“Leave it to my brother to play the Lothario to your demure Camilla,” Karolin said with a chuckle, breaking the uncomfortable silence that ensued.
Will, an Olympic medalist who had been speaking with Miles, interrupted the awkward moment. “Hey, you know, you guys look alike.”
Miles’s expression hardened. “I beg your pardon?”
“Karolin and Adelia look alike, except, of course, for their c
oloring. Their hair color is obviously opposite, but their faces are like sisters’. Can’t you see it, Miles?”
Miles surveyed the two women, forcing a laugh. “Does that mean I look like her brother?”
Will wrinkled his brow as he examined the three of them. “It’s weird, but there is a similarity.”
Miles patted Will on the back. “Keep drinking, my friend, and before long everyone in the room will begin to look alike.”
Will laughed as he walked away. “On that note, I think I’ll get a refill.”
Karolin clasped Miles’s arm as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “And I’ll leave you two to get acquainted while I see to the dinner, before our guests are completely inebriated and I’ve failed in my duties as hostess.”
Adelia watched as Karolin maneuvered through the crowd with catlike undulation, which explained her ability to come and go without announcement or sound; her movements barely affected the air currents. Her focus on the departing Karolin allowed her to avoid Miles’s gaze. She wanted to return to the balcony and the endless panorama of ocean and sky that beckoned through the sliding doors. If she could, she would have run away from him. Instead, she found herself cemented in place.
Miles read her thoughts and took her hand in his. “Come on. Let’s get a breath of fresh air. It’s too hard to talk with so many eavesdroppers. I might want to tell you the story of my life.” His mercurial change in demeanor to gentle persuasion lifted the fog that was clouding her reactions.
Gratefully, Adelia allowed herself to be led out to the terrace. A mild breeze blew, whispering through the potted bougainvillea, their red plumage adding color and contrast to the view. The setting sun sparkled radiantly on the sea like a thousand mirrors. It promised a glorious sunset when it sank into the Pacific. As she and Miles stood watching nature’s regalia, she was well aware that Miles still held her hand firmly in his. His fingers warmed her, and she acknowledged that it was good to feel another’s touch. She breathed the moist salt air deeply, but with the fragrance of salt and sea came the unmistakable scent of the stranger who held her hand tightly.
Without turning his eyes from the beauty in front of them, Miles said, “I knew your father, Adelia.”
The unexpected words sent a shiver down her spine. “You knew my father? How?” She gently withdrew her hand from his as the wings of sorrow once more folded in upon her.
“We served on a couple of corporate boards together. He was a fine man, a legend. Everyone in my business knows of Lars Lindstrom. He’s one of the founding fathers of the movement, the man who awakened us to global warming and inspired us to stand up and do something about it.”
“And what, may I ask, is your business?”
“I run a venture fund that invests exclusively in green companies. Naturally, your father and I shared a common vision. I’m so sorry about your loss, Adelia. I’m sorry for the world’s loss.” Once again he reached for her hand, and this time she did not pull away.
“I still can’t believe it’s real. The senselessness of it all.” She turned toward him. “The accident, I mean…I haven’t really mourned. I had to go back to training immediately or everything that we—my parents and I—had dreamed would have been lost. And now that I’ve done it—won—it doesn’t seem to mean as much to me as it should. I don’t suppose I’m making any sense…”
Miles turned toward her, grasping both of her hands as he pulled her closer. “Since when does life or death ever make sense? You’re suffering through a difficult time in your life. The way I see it, you’re doing the best you can under the circumstances.” He leaned in slightly and kissed her on the forehead.
She closed her eyes for a moment. Perhaps she had expected that he might kiss her, but when she opened her eyes, she saw that he had turned and was once again staring out to sea.
She felt a flush of embarrassment. She had wanted him to kiss her, and he hadn’t. It was clear she was making a fool of herself. “I really have to go. Please tell Karolin thank you for the invitation.” She turned to leave, but was stayed by his hand on her arm.
“I know the timing isn’t the best, but I’d like to call you. Dinner? Just the two of us?”
Now she felt completely taken aback, with no ability to read him. She had to get out of there now. “Sure, why not? I mean—I’d really like that.”
Chapter 8
The weeks that followed Adelia’s victory at Showpark were filled with training and preparation for the next World Cup Trial in Bridgehampton, New York. In a little over a week, the horses would be flown by FedEx and trucked to the exhibitor stables at the showground, where Rodrigo would be waiting to receive them. Adelia would fly out a few days later.
Karolin’s party was but a fading memory, and as for Miles, Adelia hadn’t even given him a thought. Whatever chemistry she had felt for the man had diminished as the days wore on without any word from him. A passing fancy, she told herself. Now she felt only relief that the irresistible stranger had failed to materialize. She had experienced a meaningless attraction to a supremely attractive man. Those kinds of occurrences happened every day between men and women. They usually amounted to nothing.
When the trespassing alert beeped to indicate that a vehicle had entered the property, she thought it was a hay delivery. She was in the stables when the Porsche pulled into the large, circular gravel driveway, and she heard a door slam, followed by the sound of boots crunching across stones. He found her behind her desk in the stable office.
“Hi. I hope you don’t mind, but I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d drop in and see how you are.”
“That’s ridiculous, Miles. You couldn’t possibly have been in the neighborhood—there is no neighborhood. Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here and why you didn’t call before coming uninvited?”
Miles’s surprise arrival was disconcerting. Adelia stood and walked nervously around her desk, keeping a safe distance between them. She wondered what she must look like, dirty and sweaty. She tried to smooth the hair that had escaped her long black braid.
His whole being seemed to be smiling at her. “You’ll have to get used to the fact that sometimes I’m the impulsive sort. It’s a trait that has served me well in business. In fact, I just got back from business in London. I know I should have called—forgive me. You’ve been on my mind for weeks. I thought if you weren’t too busy, we might grab a little dinner in Santa Barbara. I have two of the most exquisite bottles of wine packed on ice in the car.”
“Miles, look at me. I smell like a horse. And, anyway, why are you so sure that I want to have dinner with you?”
He moved a few steps closer to her, but she stood her ground. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. “You look great to me. Why don’t you shower and gussy yourself up. I’m quite content to sit and wait for the finished product.”
Adelia emerged from her bedroom fresh and scented, her long hair twisted into a chignon much like her mother had worn. She wore a simple slip dress of turquoise silk that accentuated the bronze of her arms and shoulders. At the last minute, she decided to wear the fat white Tahitian pearls that had been Faye’s favorite.
Miles, who had sat patiently, nursing his vodka on the rocks, stood and whistled. “Wow, you clean up good. You are beautiful, Ms. Lindstrom.”
Adelia’s cheeks bloomed like roses as she half curtsied. “Worth the wait?”
“If I’d had to wait forever, it would’ve been worth it.”
The restaurant he had chosen was an intimate Italian-style trattoria. She didn’t mention that it had been one of her parents’ favorites, but it was obvious to Miles that she was a favored patron when Alfredo, the maître d’, recognized her and expressed his condolences at her loss. While other parties stood waiting, they were shown to the most romantic table in the restaurant. A waiter appeared instantly to open the two bottles of wine: the red Barolo to breat
he and drink with dinner and the crisp white sauvignon blanc to begin at once.
It had been a long time since anyone had wined and dined her. Adelia’s dating history was sporadic at best. So it was not surprising that she was momentarily at a loss when the waiter, having fulfilled his duties, left them alone.
Miles reached across the small table, took her hand in his, and raised it to his lips. “You look beautiful in candlelight.”
“You seem to take a great deal of pleasure in keeping me off-balance,” she countered.
He smiled. “There is an element of pleasure in seeing you blush. I particularly like to see you flustered; I find it arousing—I mean enchanting.”
There was no question that she was enjoying this game of cat and mouse. If this was seduction, then she saw no reason not to embrace it. The slight tension was delicious. She pulled her hand away. Two can play this game, she thought. “At the party, you promised to tell me the story of your life. Now would seem to be a perfect opportunity. You can talk, and I can sip. Hopefully your life story will be as good as your wine choice.” She raised her glass to her lips.
“That seems like a fair exchange. I hope you’re prepared. This could take all night.”
“Then you’d better start,” she prompted.
“It’s always good to start at the beginning,” Miles began. “Karolin and I were born in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, in a rural, working-class neighborhood. My father, Kurt Bremen, was a German immigrant, a master auto mechanic who worked and saved for years to buy his own shop. My mom, Ellen, was a fifth-grade teacher. People say we were a happy family, although my recollection has been shaped by the events that came later. Karolin remembers the times before better than I do, and she says we were very happy.
“My father’s German background informed his parenting style. He was very strict and demanding of me, but his daughter—she was the apple of his eye. He spoiled Karolin in every way. He bought her a pony, and we all know how little girls love their horses. I remember her riding that fat pony, her pigtails flapping and that big grin plastered to her face. I also remember her devastation when she had to give him up. I saw that happy little girl disappear overnight. I don’t think I saw my sister smile again until years later.
