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

Page 19

by Michele Scott


  She looks down and nods. When she glances back up at me, there are tears in her eyes. “I’m going to go make the call.”

  “Okay.” I’m at a loss for words, because I know what the possibilities are and I can see how they’re affecting her. On top of it, she’s just lost her boyfriend to another girl, and I kind of know how that feels, considering I lost the same guy to Lydia not so long ago. “Think positive.” I sound so lame saying that.

  She walks into the tack room and I walk back over to Geisha and try and to listen to her again. I can distinctly hear the murmur without using the stethoscope now. And I’m getting a surge of feelings from Geisha that range from tired to stressed. I know that the murmur she has is no joke, and if I had to guess, I’d say that her career is probably over.

  CHAPTER forty-three

  It’s been a weird week here at Liberty. Ever since I found out about Geisha’s heart murmur, it feels like things have been in a holding pattern. Chris Haverly and his crew seem to be lying low, which makes me nervous. Janna hasn’t mentioned them, and she’s been keeping her distance from me too. As for Austen, we have been working hard to pretend like we’re just friends. It’s not always easy when we eat every meal together. When he sits next to me, feeling his leg brush against mine makes me want to jump into his arms. As for getting proof that Chris Haverly and his crew murdered Joel, we’ve got nothing. Our only hope is that Austen and Riley, who coaxed Wills into going on a trail ride with them next week, will find out something new during their time together.

  “We have to be careful,” Austen told me yesterday as we talked about the plan. “The last thing Riley or I want is for Wills to go tell Chris Haverly that we’re asking questions about him. So we can’t just interrogate him.”

  “What are you going to ask him?”

  “We’ll start by asking him about juvie,” he said. “What it was like, and how come he was there. Maybe that will get him to start talking.”

  All I can hope is that they get something good. We need more information to help us expose Chris, Paisley, and James, because there’s no evidence of their crime—not yet.

  I’m a witness of sorts, I guess—but I’m pretty sure that if I went and told the police that I saw a murder through the eyes of a horse, then I’d be the one going to jail, or at least the psych ward.

  I suppose that having a little peace and quiet hasn’t been all bad. It has allowed me to spend some time concentrating on my riding. Finally! Harmony and I are feeling really in sync, and I know it’s partly a benefit from the lessons we’ve been having here at Liberty.

  Of course, just when I think nothing is going on, Emily finds me in the cabin when I’ve come back to change my clothes after a lesson.

  “Hey, Vivienne,” she says. “I was hoping to catch you alone.”

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s just . . . well, I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

  I almost feel like laughing. “If it’s that you and Tristan are happy, no worries,” I say. “No explanation needed. It’s great.”

  “I wanted to thank you. Tristan told me that you saw us together at the barns before he even broke up with Lydia,” she says. “I’m so glad you didn’t tell her about it. That would have given her the wrong idea. That was before we’d even kissed. Considering she’s my roommate, I’m just glad she doesn’t think I was fooling around with her boyfriend before they broke up. We all know how mean she can be.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” I say. In my heart, though, I’m glad to hear that Tristan broke up with Lydia before he kissed Emily. It shows he still has honesty, which, for a while there, I thought he’d lost completely.

  “Well, anyway. The night you saw us at the barns was when things were just getting started between us. That was when we realized how much the two of us have in common.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Like loving horses?”

  She shakes her head. “No, like having truly horrible parents. Tristan said you know a little bit about how awful his dad has been to him.”

  I nod. “Yeah,” I say, feeling suddenly kind of speechless. It’s really not possible for me to forget that Tristan was abused by his own dad. It’s such a cruel truth and one I wish I could erase for him.

  “My mom hasn’t ever hit me, thank God,” she says. “But she’s bad in other ways. She has never cared about who I am. My whole life she has been telling me that competitions are the only thing that matter. All I want is to eventually be a vet and have the chance to heal horses. I don’t care about competing. But she never cared what I want. She just wants a kid who’ll make her look good, who she can brag about in social circles. She’s one of the reasons I got so depressed. She made me center my life on the kind of competitions I hate so much. That’s why I learned to drink my way through things.”

  “That’s awful, Em,” I say.

  “Well, once Tristan and I figured out we were both miserable, we started talking. And, somehow, we started planning.”

  I smile at her. “I can guess what came next.”

  She blushes. “Well, anyway, I wanted to be the first to tell you,” she says. “Neither of us is returning to Fairmont next year. We’re going to Ireland together. We found a great hookup to work at a horse farm. They’ll pay us and our board will be taken care of. Just yesterday we both told our parents.”

  “Wow,” I say. I definitely believe that Tristan getting out from under his father’s thumb—or fist—is the best thing possible. “But what about graduating? And how did your mom take the news?”

  “I hung up on her when she tried to argue. Tristan did the same with his dad. But they both called back. We told them if they wanted to ever hear from us again, they’d have to accept our decision. As far as graduating, we’ll take our GED.”

  I smile and give her a hug. “That’s amazing, Em. It seems really brave. Wasn’t Tristan scared that his dad would just cut him off? And what about you?”

  “We called Kayla beforehand, and she agreed to give us a loan if it came to that,” says Emily. “Once she found out what Tristan, especially, dealt with at home, she wanted to support us.”

  “This puts Kayla on a whole new level of sainthood,” I say. “I’m kind of surprised helping you guys wouldn’t get her in trouble.”

  “Well, we have some leverage too,” she says. “Tristan’s dad would definitely want to avoid the scandal of his child being taken away by protective services. And my mom wouldn’t want her friends finding out that she broke laws by paying a psychiatrist to start me on all kinds of meds. Plus, we’ll both be eighteen within a couple of months, so there isn’t much any of them can do, really.”

  “True,” I say. “Well, Ireland sounds like an amazing plan. Now you probably can’t wait to leave Liberty Farms.”

  “I just wanted you to be the first to know,” she says. Then she smiles and heads back out of the cabin.

  While I change my clothes, I realize that I couldn’t do what Emily and Tristan are doing. I’m glad the choice is out there for them, though. I guess I get it. I’ve never been abused.

  I’ve just been lied to. Something that I still haven’t resolved. My mom is still on her trip, so there isn’t much I can do until she returns in a week.

  I have to question myself. Will I be as brave as Emily and Tristan when it’s time to confront her? Will I really have the confidence to tell my mom how angry I am, and demand the truth about my paternity? I feel like it’s my only choice if I want to get answers.

  CHAPTER forty-four

  Another week passes in the same quiet way. Of course, there’s a little teasing from Riley and Austen about my “power”—but only when we’re alone, since they realize it would be no joking matter if anyone else found out, especially someone like Chris Haverly. But they definitely see the lighter side of it. Austen keeps asking if I can eavesdrop on his thoughts about me through his horse, A
xel. I wish!

  After a long day of lessons toward the end of the week, I put Harmony away after flatting her for a while on my own. As much as I enjoy lessons, sometimes the best thing a rider can do is focus on what she’s been taught, rather than being taught in the moment.

  As I walk out of the tack room, I nearly bump into Lydia. She looks like she’s been crying.

  “Hey,” I say. “Are you okay?”

  She shakes her head. “No.” Now she starts to cry.

  This is a real first for me.

  “I owe you a thank-you,” she says.

  “What? For what?”

  “You probably saved Geisha’s life.”

  Then she does something so completely out of left field and hugs me. “I don’t understand,” I say.

  “If you hadn’t listened to her heart and detected the murmur, she could have dropped dead at any point out on the cross-country course. The murmur is significant and she has heart disease.”

  “Oh no. I am so sorry. I really am.” I hug her back. I mean, I know we’ve never been the best of friends, and have even been sworn enemies, but learning this has to be one of the hardest things she’s ever been through.

  “No. I don’t want you to be sorry! You should be glad, because you pretty much saved her life. I’m going to talk to Kayla and see if Geisha can stay at Fairmont on the grass. Yeah, it sucks that I’m going to have to retire her, but at least I found out in time. If you hadn’t realized the problem, she could have died. We just came back from the vet hospital where they did her echocardiogram and it revealed that she has a closed valve, which means she’s not getting the blood and oxygen she needs during exercise.”

  “I really don’t know what to say. I can’t even imagine. I just . . . All I can tell you is how sorry I am.”

  She shrugs. “You know what, there’s that thing about karma. I guess maybe it’s come back to bite me. First Tristan breaks up with me, and now this. I know I haven’t been the greatest person in the world. I know that I’ve gone out of my way to make your life a living hell, and I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It’s all behind us,” I say.

  “But it isn’t okay. I need to make some changes and I want to start with you. Can we maybe call a truce?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Then I have to admit something. You know the picture that was texted to your phone that showed Tristan in my bed? Well, this might not surprise you, but it was from me. I set my phone so it would show up as a blocked number.”

  She’s right. I’m not surprised. “I don’t think I need to ask why,” I say. “I know you always had feelings for him. And he clearly had feelings for you.”

  “Oh, please, Vivvie, he was so into you. He never would have cheated on you. That photo was from the year before you showed up at Fairmont. It was the first—and really, the only—time that Tristan and I got really drunk together. We started fooling around and then I went to the bathroom. When I came back, he was out of his clothes and passed out cold. He looked kind of irresistible, so I snapped the pic.”

  She’s being so honest that I can’t get mad. Especially because, in some ways, that photo helped me find my way into Austen’s arms.

  I reach out and touch her arm. “Honestly, Lydia, don’t worry about it.”

  She wipes her tears away and we start to walk back to our cabin together. Pretty soon she’s recovered and starts getting chatty again.

  “You know, I still just can’t believe Tristan and Emily. Honestly, I would rather it be you. I still think Emily is a little bit off.”

  I kind of laugh.

  “But maybe they’re good for each other,” she says. “It’s not like either one of them have super fun family lives. Tristan’s dad is horrific. I mean, he beats him and is totally emotionally abusive. Plus, he’s bad news in other ways. He’s into some illegal stuff, and I’ve always wondered if he’d try to get Tristan involved.”

  I nod. “I sort of figured. Tristan and I touched on it, but he never went into detail.”

  “Yeah. You don’t want to know. It’s an ugly situation, so I was happy when he told me that they’re going to Ireland next year. You probably heard that too, right? Since they’ll both be eighteen by the fall, he told me that they’re leaving Fairmont to go work at a big jumper barn out there.”

  “Yeah, Emily told me,” I say.

  She shrugs. “That’s what he said and I think it’s kind of cool and probably good for both of them.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. Emily’s mom is also pretty obnoxious. I think it’s why Emily sometimes checks out with drinking. She’s got good reasons to leave too.”

  Lydia sighs. “It’s shaped up to be quite a summer.”

  “Yes, it has.” I can’t tell her the obstacles that I’ve been dealing with over trying to find Joel’s killer, of course, and I’d never trust her enough to explain my gift with horses. “But I guess not a terrible one.”

  “I suppose if anything good comes of it all, it’s that you and I have made amends. Maybe we’ll even become friends,” Lydia suggests.

  “You know, stranger things have happened.”

  Later that evening, I head down to the barns for a long-awaited meet-up with Austen. He whispered to me the day before that he had “something to say.”

  “So?” I kiss him. “What do you want to tell me?”

  He kisses me back, then pulls away and looks at me with soulful eyes. “I know this might seem crazy . . . but, Vivienne Taylor, I want to imagine a future with you. I’m crazy about you and have been ever since I can remember. I know in my heart that what we feel for one another is not some kind of teenage game, or silly little romance. What we have is real. We’re supposed to live the rest of our lives together.”

  I’m staring at him.

  “There,” he continues, “I said it.”

  I give him a long kiss filled with passion. When I pull away, I say, “You’re my soul mate and I can’t imagine my life without you. So, what are we going to do about it?”

  “I was thinking maybe you’d want to come to UC Davis,” he says.

  I feel a stab of guilt as I recall the excitement I felt when Faith had mentioned the offer at UNH. I don’t know what to say. Then I realize that I owe Austen nothing short of honesty.

  “Would you ever consider becoming a junior transfer?” I say.

  “Vivienne,” he says, pulling me close. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”

  “It’s just an opportunity,” I say. “But it might be a good one. A chance to get room and board paid at UNH and work for an Olympic gold medalist. For Lena Millman.”

  “Well, that does sound amazing,” he says.

  “Look, I still have a lot of things to figure out,” I say. “But the one thing I already know is that you are the one piece of my life that makes sense. If I end up going, maybe you could come join me?”

  He pulls me close. “We’ll find a way to be together. I know we will.”

  CHAPTER forty-five

  It seems to be turning into my routine to go to bed early and wake up before the sun is really up. Maybe it’s my way of avoiding my roommates in the morning. After all, Lydia is still bummed out about Geisha, and probably Tristan, not that she’d admit it—although of course she still looks like a perfect Barbie every morning. Emily is glowing with happiness. They pretty much ignore each other. Janna seems withdrawn, and there’s a big part of me that wonders why. After the surprise birthday party stunt for Austen, I’m just waiting to see what she’ll do next to try to get us in trouble.

  I toss on some clothes and head down to the Commons House for my usual early bird breakfast. I’m always the first one in there, but it’s kind of peaceful. I’m surprised as I’m making a cup of coffee from the Keurig to hear someone come in—lately I’ve been the only person up around here
at this time.

  Thing is, when I turn around to see who it is, I’m shocked to see it’s my mother.

  “Mom?”

  “Hi, Schnoopy. I just got in late last night and didn’t want to wake you. I was told you’d be down here first thing in the morning.”

  I stare at her and feel my face turning red with anger. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  She comes closer to me and I can see tears in her eyes. “Yes.”

  I feel like I’ve been sucker punched and the wind knocked out of me. I turn and start to stir my coffee. My body is shaking. Why didn’t anyone warn me she was coming?

  “I don’t want to talk to you right now,” I say.

  “Schnoopy, please. We need to talk. I have to explain.”

  I turn to face her. I speak as calmly as I possibly can, but I can hear the shaking in my voice. “What do you need to explain? You’ve lied to me my entire life. I don’t see how that needs an explanation. And do not call me Schnoopy ever again.”

  “Vivienne,” she says. “We have to talk. You can’t walk away. You don’t have the whole story. I’m not even exactly sure what you were told by your dad.”

  I let out a sarcastic laugh. “My dad. My dad? My dad! Come on! You mean Frank, don’t you?”

  “Will you please give me a chance?”

  “Sure. Go for it! Tell me why you’ve been keeping the deepest, darkest secret that you could from me. Tell me why I’ve thought forever that Frank is my dad! Then tell me why, if you were keeping this secret all this time, you couldn’t have at least told me when he left us that he wasn’t my dad? Maybe then . . .” I can hear my voice rising but I don’t care. “Maybe then I would have sort of understood. Maybe then I wouldn’t have wondered for the last almost eight years why my dad left and why I was not worthy of his love any longer!” Hot tears sting my eyes and face.

  She doesn’t say anything for a moment.

 

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