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

by Michele Scott

  Boarding the rest of the horses happens efficiently and with no real upheaval. The racehorses Joe told us about are loaded after our animals, and all of us are asked to take our jump seats. Between the Fairmont grooms, and the ones traveling with the racehorses, there are eight grooms total. Then there’s me, Joe, and two other professional handlers. I’m the only girl.

  True to what I was told by Holden and Christian, the plane is really, really cold. In fact, as we take off, I am thinking that the plane takes the term frozen tundra to an entirely new level. There aren’t any windows—so forget about a view. After takeoff, I get out of my jump seat and set a folding chair in front of Harmony. Joe Pierce is seated in a folding chair next to me, in front of Geisha’s stall. The grooms spread out and the handlers also have folding chairs they set out.

  “You one of the grooms?” he asks.

  “No. I’m one of the riders for Fairmont.”

  He gives me a curious look. “Why aren’t you with the other kids? Aren’t they leaving out of LAX?”

  “Yeah, but my groom broke his ankle yesterday, and I don’t know . . . I was given the option to go with my horse or not.”

  “She’s special, huh?”

  I smile and nod. “She is the most important thing in the world to me, other than my family.”

  “I get that. I hear it a lot in this business. They are family, aren’t they?”

  “Very true.”

  We talk about how long I’ve been riding and the reasons I got into it. He tells me that he’s been doing this job for ten years and that he loves it. I’m relieved I have someone to talk to, because it makes the flight easier. When I’m talking, I can ignore that I’m freezing cold and nervous about flying in a massive plane with eighteen horses on board.

  About two hours into the flight, just as Joe is in the middle of telling me a story about flying with the royal horses of England a few years ago, we hit a pocket of turbulence. It’s not horrible but it’s rougher than any of us would like. A few of the horses start to whinny and I can hear a couple of them scramble. Harmony looks at me with a wild eye, and I stand up and place a hand on her face. “It’s all right.” We hit another big pocket of turbulence and I lose my balance. Harmony scrambles for a minute. Joe looks at me, “Why don’t you take your jump seat.”

  “I think I’ll stay with her.”

  One of the other handlers comes over. “One of the two-year-olds up front needs some sedation.”

  The plane tilts slightly to the right. “Vivienne, you need to take a jump seat.” I can tell by the tone of his voice that he isn’t messing around, so I give Harmony a last pat and tell her again that it will be okay. But I don’t want to leave her. All the horses including Harmony are becoming more agitated.

  I realize that I probably look totally beside myself when one of the grooms looks at me kindly and says, “Don’t worry. This happens. These guys have it under control.”

  I take one of the jump seats and strap myself in. I can’t see Harmony from where I am at, since she is up front. I can hear the men talking. A horse whinnies loudly, and I recognize the sound as one of fear. The scraping of hooves echoes through the airplane.

  The plane hits another patch of turbulence and my stomach lurches. I want to get up and go be with Harmony. I start to unfasten my belt. One of the other grooms looks at me and says, “Stay put.” The way he says it tells me that he’s also scared.

  A few more whinnies ring out and echo off the metal of the plane. One of them is Harmony’s. I know how she sounds. I close my eyes and picture her in my head. I don’t have any idea if this will work or not, but I flash image after image of the two of us together. I breathe in and out in as calm of a state as I can. I can feel her energy as I do this. It’s innocent, kind—almost like a small child’s energy. I feel her calming down and as I do there is a shift throughout the plane. All of the horses seem to settle just in time for the plane to level out, as if it has emerged from the storm. I take a deep breath and realize with surprise that I’ve just discovered something new. Of course, it’s impossible to know if it was really me who had the calming effect on the horses. But I know for sure that I can’t communicate with airplanes, so I’m wondering if reassuring Harmony somehow translated to the rest of horses.

  We get the go-ahead to take our seats back near our horses, and everyone leaves the jump seats to return to the folding chairs. Joe comes back and takes the seat next to me. “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yes. One of the racehorses got pretty nervous there. We gave her a sedative, so she should be good the rest of the flight. I spoke with the pilot and he said that looks like the only rough patch. You okay?”

  “I think so.” I’m relieved to know we don’t have much longer to Lexington, and we land without any more events occurring. I am pretty happy when it’s time to get off the plane. I think Harmony is, too, as she’s the second to the last horse off. I get her into the trailer and step out to see a van waiting for me.

  I know it’s going to take me to some fancy-sounding place called the Cardinal Manor and Estate. The horses, meanwhile, are being taken to the horse park along with the grooms.

  As I get in and fasten my seatbelt, I almost want to pinch myself. I made it. I’m here. Harmony is with me. I can’t tell whether I want to laugh, burst into joyful tears, or have a nervous breakdown.

  CHAPTER thirty-eight

  My first views of Kentucky—a place I’ve dreamed about—come as we leave the airport in the overcast afternoon. As we drive, the famous racing grounds of Keeneland stretch out across from us as we make a right onto Man o’ War Boulevard. Once we drive beyond the city limits, I begin to see nothing but long stretches of green pastures, hemmed in by wooden fences. The grass is a color that instantly makes me think of the term bluegrass, since it shimmers with just a hint of a subtle, amazing blue that I’ve never seen in nature before.

  Along with the abundant grass, horses are everywhere. Since it’s spring, there are brood mares with their foals in all the pastures, and I catch glimpses of them eating, playing, and taking naps. It is incredible.

  The silver gray sky allows only slivers of the sun to reflect through the clouds. As we drive farther, raindrops begin to sprinkle the windshield. I badly want to open my window and breathe it all in. In a way, Lexington conjures up memories of home with all of its expansive green pastures and rural feel. The difference is that there are certainly no mountain ranges like the Cascades in Kentucky, and back home the houses aren’t massive, sprawling estates. The barns that we keep passing are all at least three times larger than the home I grew up in. And they’re beautiful.

  My heart beats rapidly inside my chest as I take it in. I’m here. I am really here. I’m in Lexington headed to compete at the championships. I am here with a couple of my best friends, and with Tristan. This moment can’t be beat.

  The driver turns onto a cobblestoned road set between ancient-looking stone walls. As we wind up the road, trees with light pink flowers arch over the drive, and I almost feel like I am back in some other time or even in some other country. It feels very Old World to me, and I’m enchanted.

  The driver pulls into a circular brick-paved drive, and yep—the enchantment continues.

  I see barns in the distance, and more of those lush green pastures, but directly in front of me is a huge mansion. Or maybe the word is manor, or estate, or villa . . . I’m not sure what to call it other than huge—and impressive.

  I get out of the van, and as I am taking it all in, two airport shuttles pull in behind us. My heart jumps to know that Tristan is here. And, Riley, Joel, Emily . . . and What’s-her-name. . . .

  I race over to their shuttle. Joel climbs out first, then Riley, then Emily, and then I am confused as my mind tries to make sense of Tristan stepping out with Lydia right behind him, a huge smile on her face as she says to him, “Thank you for being so sweet to me
on the plane, Tristan.”

  I notice his face turn red and I glare at her.

  “Oh, hi, Vivienne. How was your flight?” she asks.

  “Great.” I flash my fakest smile back at the snooty b, and stare at my boyfriend, who won’t even look at me. He finally gives me an awkward kiss on the cheek, and says, “Hi, babe.”

  “Hi.”

  The second van opens up and out climb the Fairmonts and Christian.

  “Okay, you guys. Let’s head in.” Holden checks his watch. “We’ll get your rooms and then we have an hour to meet out in the stallion shed for the welcoming reception. We got really lucky with the housing draw, I think.” He smiles.

  I totally agree. I can hardly believe how beautiful the place is as, next to Tristan, I head up the stone path surrounded by immaculately kept rosebushes. As Holden opens the front door, we walk into a marble-floored entry. There is one of those huge staircases in front of us. To the right is a large room, and I take a peek. It looks like a library. To the left is another large room with a massive fireplace and it’s paneled in a dark wood and furnished with cushioned leather sofas that look incredibly comfortable to me.

  An elderly lady greets us. “Good day, Fairmont Academy,” she says with a slightly Southern accent. “I’m Hannah Hill. I am one of the caretakers of Cardinal Estate. We are pleased to have you with us for the week. Feel free to treat this as your home. Breakfast will be served at seven per your instructors’ request in order for you to get over to the horse park in a timely fashion. However, if you need to eat earlier, there will be pastries and coffee prepared by six a.m. The kitchen is behind me down this hall, and the dining area will be off to the left. Feel free to explore at your leisure. I know that right now you all are on a schedule, and I’m sure you are weary from traveling.”

  I have to say, my first experience with Southern charm bowls me over. Hannah Hill is like the grandma I’ve always wanted.

  “Each of you will receive a key to your own room located on the second story,” she continues. “I will give Mr. Fairmont the keys and a roster.”

  She hands Holden a sheet and sets of keys, and he turns to us with a stern look in his deep-set hazel eyes. “Okay, gang, you know the rules. What goes at Fairmont, goes here.” He calls out our names and hands us each a key to our room.

  Once everyone has gotten their room assignments, Kayla reminds us of how little time we have before the gathering at the stallion shed.

  “I can’t be ready for a party in an hour,” Lydia whines. “I mean, we just got off a plane.”

  “You’ll look great, I’m sure,” Kayla replies.

  I shake my head in disgust that all Lydia is thinking about is her looks. I just want to soak this all in. My room turns out to be as spectacular as the rest of the place. It’s painted a light yellow and has a dark wood four-poster bed. The comforter is simple and white, but the framed photos on the walls get me—all horses. I look at them each in turn, wishing that I could have gotten Harmony settled myself. After the flight, I wonder how she’s doing.

  I take a quick shower in the bathroom connected to my room, and then I pull out one of the two dresses that I packed. I choose the one that Martina told me I had to wear. I even seem to hear her voice as I pull it on. It’s a little bit tighter than what I might usually choose and I’ll admit there is a plunging neckline—not that I have much to plunge into. I am no Lydia Gallagher. Shaking my head, I grab the padded bra that Martina insisted I buy to wear with the dress. It’s as if she’s in the room with me. A padded bra can be a flat girl’s best friend. I laugh out loud when I picture her saying this to me. I slip the black dress on and at least feel happy that I have a flat stomach—and that thanks to the bra, my cleavage is at least not as flat as my stomach.

  I put on a little blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss, and brush my hair. It’s gotten really long, so it hangs half way down my back. I figure since all I ever do is wear it pulled back that maybe I will wear it down for once. I blow it out and put on silver hoop earrings—another loan from Martina.

  I walk out of my room and descend the stairs. Tristan is already waiting for me. No one else is in the entry yet. As I make my way down to him, he gives me that ever-so-sweet dimpled smile and my heart actually flutters. I swear it does. “You look beautiful. Wow, Vivienne.”

  I do a twirl for him and am almost disgusted at myself for the girlish giggle I let out—almost.

  “Not too bad yourself.” I like what he’s wearing; a blazer strikes the right balance between upscale and casual.

  He grabs me and pulls me in tight against him and I catch my breath. He kisses me and that heart-flutter thing does a repeat.

  “Oh God,” says a girl’s voice. At the words, Tristan releases me. “Get a room,” the voice adds.

  I turn and look up at the stairs to see Lydia coming down. My stomach sinks. I guess I was hoping that for once she would look hideous since she didn’t have an entire day to get ready. But who am I kidding? This is Lydia, after all, and she looks as insanely hot as usual. I hate her. She has no deficiencies where a plunging neckline is concerned, and I have to wonder if her super short red dress with the neckline down to, well, pretty far down, should be illegal. Her outrageously high do-me heels match her plump red lips. I look at Tristan. Is he salivating? He puts an arm around me and I breathe a little easier—a little.

  “You look really cute, Scholarship.”

  I’ve just accepted her stupid name for me and have recognized that she calls me it because she’s acutely jealous. Tristan’s arm tightens around me as he says, “Vivienne is more than cute. She’s hot. Gorgeously hot.”

  “You guys are so sweet,” she replies in a syrupy, super sarcastic way.

  Before I say something that gets me in trouble, I am saved by the charming Riley Reed bounding down the stairs. His smile is wide as he takes the last three stairs with a flying leap and yells, “Booyah.”

  Tristan high-fives him. “Ooh, Miss Taylor cleans up pretty nicely,” he says. Then he turns to Lydia. “Wow. You’re so very Ke$ha tonight. Minus the glitter.”

  “Thank you,” she replies. “I’m planning on finding the other hot guy in the room,” she says and looks at Tristan. “I’m sure one of the college guys will fit the bill.”

  “What about you and Harrison?” Riley asks.

  “Oh, I’m bored with him,” she replies. “Ke$ha, huh?”

  “Totally,” Riley says.

  I can tell by her tone that for once she’s uncertain and doesn’t know if she should take it as a compliment or not. I am certain Riley didn’t mean it as in, ‘you look Ke$ha glamorous.’ Pretty sure he was going right for, ‘you look Ke$ha slutty.’ I love that he might have just insulted her. But this is tempered by my disappointment that she’s broken up with Harrison. Bummer.

  Before long the Fairmonts show, and so do the rest of the team, and we make our way through the unbelievably perfect gardens down to the stallion shed. It’s a huge covered arena, all done in cherrywood paneling. Along the outside of the arena are countless windows, so it isn’t entirely enclosed. The whole place is meant for buyers so that they can see how a particular stallion moves if they’re interested in him. It gives buyers or owners of mares who are looking to breed with a stallion a better idea as to how the horse moves.

  As we enter the arena, the air smells like I am walking through the woods after a fresh rain, and I am once again blown away. The place is lit up by miniature Chinese lanterns strung across the high wood beams. The tables are covered with white tablecloths and floral arrangements that would make my mother go completely gaga. They’re made of gorgeous yellow roses and lavender hyacinths, which are starlike clusters of flowers that I only know about because they happen to be my mom’s favorite.

  There is a stage up front with a guy playing bluegrass on an acoustic guitar, which sets a fun, soulful kind of mood. A buffet table lines
one wall, and servers are filling flutes with what I figure must be sparkling cider, as I doubt many of us here are of legal drinking age. More riders keep filing in and the place quickly fills up. Excitement and anxiety race through me with the anticipation of the week to come and the realization as to how huge this is, and how lucky I am to be a part of it. I can’t help but feel like I almost want to cry some seriously happy tears.

  Tristan says, “We should grab a table.”

  I nod. We find one closer to the stage. Riley and Joel sit down with us, too, but on separate sides of the table, and I can’t help but notice they aren’t really saying anything to each other. Wonder what this drama could be about? There are some empty seats left, but I am sure that Lydia won’t be joining us. Like she said, her plan is to hunt down the hottest guy in the room besides my boyfriend.

  We take our seats. Tristan leans into me and whispers, “Can you believe this? I’m so happy I’m here with you.”

  His words are sweet and his breath in my ear sends tingles down my spine. I smile at him and say, “I couldn’t think of anyone else that I’d rather be with.”

  As he kisses my cheek, I hear a voice say, “Vivvie?”

  I look up. Oh. My. God. “Austen.”

  “Hey.” He walks around the table. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  I nod, and the nod turns into a shake of my head as I muster a smile. “And crazy, but I didn’t know you’d be here, either.”

  Austen flashes his smile, dimples on both sides of his cheeks, his blue eyes dancing in the candlelight as if he has a secret and one he is happy about. He runs a hand through his wavy dark hair and looks pointedly at Tristan.

  He opens his arms, and I awkwardly break away from Tristan to stand up and hug him. Even though there is plenty of noise and a lot of people, I suddenly feel like I am on some deserted island with no escape. I can feel Riley’s, Joel’s, and Tristan’s eyes on us as we hug.