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

by Michele Scott

  “No. No. It’s not you. It’s that they are my parents, and aren’t parents supposed to love you no matter what? I mean, I’m their kid, and I’m scared to death to tell them that I’m gay.” He sighs. “You know, you hear people say that it’s a choice, but that’s such bullshit. Sorry.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t be.”

  “Really, when you think about it, does anyone in their right mind think that anyone says, Oh, I’d rather be gay now? No matter what, no one chooses to be gay. Let’s face it, for as ‘far’ as we may have come, there are still plenty of people, my parents included, who think that being gay means I’m some heathen, something evil.”

  In the silence that follows this remark, tears start to stream down his face. I reach out and wipe them with my thumbs. “It is crazy,” I say. “I wish I could say that I know how you feel.” Ironically, I kind of do. I am sure that if people knew about my ability to communicate with horses they’d see me as an outcast of sorts—an oddball at the very least.

  “No, you don’t, Viv. Trust me. You don’t. I just wish that I had a mom like you have. What makes me sadder is that I love my parents. They’re my parents, but because of who I am, I know I’ll have to leave my family behind at some point to make a life that feels true to me. I won’t be one of those people who lies forever just to make others, including my parents, feel better. I just need to wait until I graduate. That’s it. Then, I’ll have the freedom that I need to be truthful. I can’t risk telling them the truth now and losing Santos. I can’t live without my horse.”

  “I know. I do get that. But what do you mean that you just have to wait until graduation?”

  He looks at me. His eyes are red rimmed from his tears. “I’ve got plans. I’ve been saving from the poker games and from summer jobs. And, my parents have given my brothers and sister big chunks of change at graduation, so I’m thinking I’ll get the same. Once I have that in hand, I plan to take Santos and go to Europe. Hopefully, find a barn where I can be a working student.”

  “That would be amazing.” I want to tell him to stay here. I want to tell him that it’s all going to work out, but I can’t because even I am not sure if those words are true. Riley knows his parents better than anyone, and given the turbulent emotions he’s feeling, I trust what he’s saying. All I can do is be supportive. “So, what do you think you want to do about Joel?”

  “I have to get Joel out of here. I can’t have him change my life just because he feels I wronged him in some way. I’m scared. I really am. And, it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that even if Joel is on the up-and-up, and what he told you is true, he still might create a problem for me. Especially if he’s going to be all buddy-buddy with Lydia. It won’t take long before the gossip starts flying. That girl can get people talking. She has a knack for it. Trust me.”

  “You know what, Ri . . . you know the saying, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’?”

  He narrows his eyes and gives me a you have to be kidding me look.

  “I’m not kidding,” I reply. “What better way to keep Joel from spreading harm around here than to get him away from the DZ and bring him into our little fold?”

  I look at Riley, who has gone a bit pale. I don’t think he likes my idea so much. “Riley? Do you have any other ideas? If you do, I am all ears.”

  He finally shakes his head. “Nope, I don’t. Suppose it’s time I make nice with the enemy.”

  “I’d say so.”

  “Tomorrow night, I guess. I heard some people are going down to the beach for a get-together.”

  “Ah.” I nod. “Is this an official Fairmont get-together or a sneaking-off-campus-and-possibly-getting-into-trouble situation?”

  “The latter.”

  “No can do, Ri. I can’t risk the scholarship.”

  “Come on. You have to do this with me. The sooner the better, right?”

  “Don’t make me do this. You know as well as I do that if anyone else gets caught besides me, it will probably be a slap on the wrist and a phone call home. For me, the stakes are higher. It states clearly in my contract that if I don’t mind my p’s and q’s I will be sent packing.”

  “But it’s the perfect opportunity! Tell you what, you just drive my car down and wait for me.”

  “No. Wait for, like, two hours? It’s not like you’re going to show up and then just walk up to Joel and say, ‘Hey, dude, we need to be cool and you can’t go flapping your mouth and crap.’ ”

  Riley rolls his eyes. “First off, I never call anyone ‘dude.’ ”

  “You have to go without me. Sorry.”

  “Fine. Fine. I see how it is. I’ll take your boy with me.”

  “I don’t like that idea, either,” I reply.

  “Vivienne, you are being selfish.”

  “And you are trying to guilt me.”

  “No, I am not. I am stating facts here, and this is my life. It’s you, your boy, or both of you. I need backup.”

  I sigh. “Fine. If Tristan is willing to do it, then I guess so.”

  “You’re willing to get your boys busted, but you won’t take the heat yourself.” He laughs.

  “Riley, you are not going to guilt me into this. I cannot do it. Being at Fairmont is my shot and I won’t risk it. You know that.”

  “I’m sorry. I just like it when you hold my hand.”

  “I know you do.” I take his hand and squeeze it. “But this time, you have to go and be a big boy on your own. You can do this, and it will all be okay.”

  “Right. You know, if this whole riding thing doesn’t work out for you, you could always become a cheerleader. You’re awfully good at it. And you’re awfully good at being a smart-ass.”

  “True story,” I say. “True story. But this is one smart-ass you are stuck with, Riley Reed.”

  He gives me a noogie on top of my head and says, “Come on, smart-ass, let’s figure out how to make nicey-nice with the enemy.”

  CHAPTER nine

  Riley and I part ways deciding that we will deal further with the Joel issue tomorrow. Anyway, for now it kind of is in Riley’s court because he insists he will handle it at tomorrow night’s bonfire. I find myself feeling pretty tired. It has been a long day. This morning, I was out of bed before the sun came up to get on my 9:00 a.m. flight back to school. The drive to the Portland Airport from my mom’s house is a couple of hours, so my mom had us packed and in the truck by five in the morning. No wonder I want to take a nap.

  When I get to our suite, I’m surprised to see that Martina isn’t back yet, but decide maybe it’s a good thing. As much as I want to visit with her, I can say that lying down and closing my eyes sounds even better. So that’s what I do.

  The text alert on my phone wakes me up. I roll over and reach out to get my phone off the nightstand next to my bed. I see the text is from Tristan, and rub my eyes. I also notice the time. It’s after five! I must have been exhausted.

  I read his text. Hi, beautiful girl. Meet me in an hour down at the barn?

  I stretch and feel happy. How can I not? Would love to.

  Wear something casual. I have a fun night planned for us.

  I text him a smiley emoticon and set down the phone. I roll out of bed and, as I do, my cell goes off again. I pick it up ready to see what else Tristan might have to say.

  I swallow and my eyes open wider. It’s not from Tristan. But it is from Austen.

  Hey, Vivienne Taylor, what the hell is up? Thinking of you. Get to school okay?

  I sit back on the edge of the bed and close my eyes for a minute. Austen, Austen, Austen . . .

  Another text rolls in. You there, Viv? Think of me talking to you right now in my charming British accent.

  I can’t help but smile at this. I have to answer him. Hi! Yes, I’m at school. All good. Busy. I’m late for a meeting. I pres
s send and regret it.

  Oh. My. God. I am such a liar. Such. A. Liar. A meeting? As if I work on freaking Wall Street or something. Why am I not honest? Although honesty would mean typing in that I have to take a shower so I can go on a date with my extremely hot boyfriend. I’m clearly caught. Right? Two guys. Both hot. One has been my friend since the beginning of time. Why did he ever kiss me? Because now I have to admit that I have some kind of feelings other than friendship for him. I don’t know exactly what they are, but this just sucks. I want to throw the phone at the wall.

  I take a deep breath. My text goes off again. It’s Austen. Meeting? Like sorority or club, or what?

  Oh geez. Um, okay, first off, not his business. However, if we are just talking friends here then it should be no big deal that he is asking me what kind of meeting. So I have to text back. And when I do, I feel compelled to say it’s a horse management meeting. Yes. That is exactly what I am doing.

  I get in the shower before any more texts can distract me, and when I come out there is one more from Austen that just tells me to have fun with the meeting. I don’t respond, but instead get dressed.

  I hate getting dressed for dates when I don’t know the destination, but I figure jeans and a sweater is casual but still cute—and I got both items from my mom for Christmas so they look new. Not that my outfit matters all that much. I’m just excited that Tristan wanted to plan something special. I wish Martina were here to weigh in on my hair. I’m curious as to where she’s been all afternoon. And I’m even more curious about the condom I saw by accident in her purse. But I don’t want to push her. If Martina has something she wants to share with me, then she’ll share. At least that’s what I’m hoping.

  I can’t decide if I want to pull my hair back or leave it down. I am so much more comfortable with it pulled back, but my friends from home, Kait and Mia, who have both been totally guy crazy since we were all, like, nine, insist that boys love long hair left down. I mess around with it until I finally decide to pull it off my face with a hair tie.

  Hair done, some makeup on, and I leave my room to meet Tristan over by the pond in between the dorms and the barns. Walking along the paved path I feel good and happy to be back here and around my horse, my friends, and Tristan.

  I look to the right of me out at the green pasture and see that Harmony is on the grass. I hadn’t noticed her on the turnout schedule, but she must have been on it. One of the grooms must have taken her out. I call out to her and she lifts her head.

  I stop along the rail and watch in admiration as she trots over to me—with her graceful neck and just slightly dished nose, indicative of the Trakehner breed, she’s such a beautiful horse. Tristan’s horse, Sebastian, is also in the turnout with her. He lifts up his head for a few seconds as if to study me and then goes back to eating.

  “Hey, pretty girl,” I say, scratching up behind her ears in the way she loves and twirling my fingers through her mane. I lean my head against hers and we stay like that for several long seconds. It’s a good moment. The best. I feel any remaining negativity still lingering from the images she shared with me of Joel clear away in this moment. “What’s the story with you and that handsome boy in there?” I laugh. I glance up and out at Sebastian, who looks up at me again, and I watch as he slowly starts to walk my way. Harmony, though, looks almost past me and snorts. She turns around and heads back out onto the grass. “Hey, big girl, we weren’t done talking,” I say.

  “You are so interesting.”

  I turn quickly and see why my horse took an abrupt leave—it’s Lydia Gallagher.

  “I didn’t get the memo that we were wearing cheap jeans instead of True Religion. But, nice sweater. I see you’ve been taking note of what and what not to wear. Or, you’ve been spying on me. Quite an improvement from last semester, Scholarship.” Her hands go to her hips, and I can’t help notice that she is wearing a serious diamond tennis bracelet—it must have cost a small fortune. I want to roll my eyes at her but instead keep calm, even though I am somewhat stunned to see that yes, indeed, Lydia is wearing the same sweater as I am. I want to make a response to her snooty-ass remark but I swallow it—doesn’t matter what she thinks, because the truth is, my jeans were not cheap.

  “Always nice to see you, Lydia,” I say. “But have you ever thought that maybe it’s you who has learned to dress more appropriately? I mean, you look great in that. Far better than how you look in your usual attire of short shorts with butt cleavage and T-shirts that leave nothing to anyone’s imagination.”

  “Are you saying that I’m tacky?” she practically screeches.

  I wrinkle up my nose. “No. No. But less is more, you know. You shouldn’t feel so insecure. You’re a very pretty girl.”

  “And you’re a freak.”

  “Right,” I reply.

  “You know, I was actually going to try and see if we could be friends. I thought that maybe we could forget about last semester and move on. But I see that your maturity level isn’t much more than a five-year-old’s.”

  “You’ve been wanting to be my friend? You have a funny way of showing it. But I guess criticizing clothing options is all there really is to your friendships.”

  “I was complimenting you.”

  “Oh. I missed that. Silly me. Sure. Let’s be friends,” I reply sarcastically. “Maybe you could start by using my real name instead of calling me Scholarship.”

  “Never mind. I have all the friends that I need.”

  “I have to go,” I say. “I have to meet Tristan.”

  She frowns and turns, heading in the opposite direction from me—thankfully. After a minute my horse makes her way back over and I give her a kiss. This time, Sebastian comes along closely following her. I look at my watch. I still have a few minutes to spend with the horses before I’m supposed to meet Tristan. “She is such a jerk,” I say to Harmony.

  I run my hand down her nose and an image arrives in my mind directly from her: oddly, it’s Lydia’s bracelet. I think she must simply be agreeing with me that the girl is completely obnoxious, but then another image comes into my mind that I can tell is directly from my mare. She shows me an image of myself from the morning that she colicked last semester during our first event together. We couldn’t compete because of it.

  “What are you trying to tell me?” I ask.

  Again, in my mind, I see the diamond bracelet. Then the image of me wearing pajamas on the morning she colicked.

  “Is this about Lydia?”

  Sebastian nudges me with his nose. “Hey you,” I say, my hand going up alongside of his neck. I lose the thread of my discussion with Harmony now that Sebastian is involved. At least so far in my life, I have never been able to communicate with two horses at the same time. I always just focus on one. I might pause to ask another horse something on the same topic, but generally I keep the communication channels all very separate, so that I don’t get confused. One thing I know is that it’s obvious to me that Sebastian knows I can understand his kind. Either he has picked up on this fact himself, or in some way my lovely mare has clued him in. It’s amazing to me that even though I can communicate with horses, there is so much I don’t understand about how the animals talk to each other. I am positive they do. If they talk to me, I sure in the heck believe that they talk to each other.

  “What is it, Sebastian?” I go through the same motions as I did with Harmony and lean my head against his face. He is as much of a gentle giant as any horse can be. Then I get a flurry of images. They move quickly, but I am sure of what I’m seeing. First, there’s Tristan. Then I see his father. I also see Lydia standing in a dark corner. The giveaway is the sparkling tennis bracelet glittering in the shadows. The image is blurry, but I’m sure that it’s her. But I get the feeling that Tristan has no idea about Lydia’s presence. And that’s when I am shocked as the images coming from Sebastian turn violent. I gasp out loud as I see Tristan’s
father wrapping his wide hands around his son’s neck and choking him, and then letting go just long enough to shove him to the ground.

  I am jolted out of the horrifying imagery by the sound of my name being called.

  “Vivvie. Hey, beautiful!” I turn to see Tristan walking down the pathway. I try and smile, and for the first time in my life pray that a horse has just told me a big, fat lie.

  CHAPTER ten

  Tristan reaches me, grabs me around the waist, and twirls me around. For a second my mind jumps back to Christmas break when Austen made the same move. What is there—a school on how to win girls’ hearts? If so, did they both attend? He sets me down and then kisses me on the forehead, which strikes me as the sweetest gesture ever. “You look beautiful, as always. You okay, though? You were looking a little lost when I was walking up.”

  “I’m fine. I was talking to those two and kind of daydreaming.” That is pretty darn close to the truth. Except the communication with Sebastian was more like a nightmare than a daydream.

  “And, did they tell you anything?” he asks, laughing.

  I grin. If he only knew!

  “They told me they love to eat.” I nudge him in the ribs.

  “Well, then, should we let them go back to their grass? We have plans. You ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  “The surprise.”

  “I like surprises.”

  “Let’s go then.” He takes my hand and we walk the rest of the way down the path to the parking lot.

  “So where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  He opens the door for me. “You are such the gentleman.” I laugh.

  “I try.” He walks around and gets into the driver’s seat of the Jeep. As we exit the gates of Fairmont, the sun is just beginning to set.

  “So,” he says as he presses the accelerator and moves smoothly into traffic. “What do you think about this whole thing with Joel and Riley?”