Chapter 7
August Mendelssohn had been in the business of breeding warmblood sport horses for nearly thirty years. He knew that producing a horse with the confirmation, gaits, and temperament for international competition in dressage might happen once in a lifetime. Tempest was just such a horse. That being said, Mendelssohn also knew that the horse was only a part of the total equation. If the perfect horse was paired with an incompetent, insensitive or ignorant rider, that horse’s chance to achieve greatness was almost nil. It was the perfect communication and harmony between horse and rider that created champions. That was the primary reason Mendelssohn had ended his sponsorship of the German rider Hermann Wolfe. The man was completely at odds with Tempest, and hadn’t a clue how to ride the stallion with the sensitivity he required. What disturbed Mendelssohn most in hindsight about the experience with Wolfe was that when Wolfe test rode Tempest for Mendelssohn, he rode the horse very well. There was no hint of the problems the pair later developed. True, Tempest was hotter than the majority of horses in international competition today, but Mendelssohn was certain that he could be ridden in competition, and ridden well, by the right rider.
Having now come to that conclusion, Mendelssohn was frustrated. Today, not just one, but three dressage professionals had ridden Tempest very well, but it was just one ride. Thus, his dilemma. His past experience told him that one ride wasn’t enough to determine which rider would be best for Tempest for the long term. His experience with Wolfe had proved that to him. Mendelssohn had assumed that Michael Stafford, the clear favorite in his mind because of his Olympic success, would be the best match for a horse like Tempest, but Stafford had come straight out and told him he didn’t have the funds, or the backing of a wealthy sponsor recruited by the British Equestrian Team, and therefore couldn’t purchase Tempest for the amount Mendelssohn was asking: $1 million. Instead, he wanted Mendelssohn to sponsor him. Not to mention the added difficulties Michael’s questionable mental and emotional stability added to the equation. He was grateful, but somewhat troubled that Lionel Hayes had detailed Michael’s difficulties to him in confidence over dinner just last night. If Lionel was so worried about Michael that he was willing to share his concerns with a near stranger, his problems must be serious.
On the other hand, he considered Elizabeth Randall and Jessica Warren. Elizabeth, clearly the experienced professional, also rode Tempest well, almost as well as Michael had. Jessica, under Elizabeth’s supervision, also rode Tempest competently, but her approach was more tentative. Tempest took advantage of that lack of confidence by unseating her. Given the circumstances, however, the stallion’s testing of a new rider was understandable, and Jessica’s failure to maintain her seat was also understandable. Mendelssohn didn’t hold that against her. Her mental state, specifically a lack of confidence, however, did concern him.
With both of the competitors for Tempest capable of riding him, Mendelssohn was left with the one significant difference between the two: the American rider was backed by an influential trainer and the U.S. Equestrian Team with a sponsor able to transfer $1 million into Mendelssohn’s bank account in a matter of days. Those funds would provide a very comfortable retirement for himself and his wife for the rest of their lives. If money were his only motivation, Mendelssohn’s decision would be easy, but he felt a tremendous amount of responsibility for his magnificent stallion. Was he willing to trust his once-in-a-lifetime horse to someone who had money, but had proven herself to be comparably inexperienced and lacked confidence on the international stage, especially when compared with Michael Stafford who had that experience, proven success and an uncanny rapport with the horse?
Mendelssohn sighed. He had invited all of his guests for dinner this evening. They would expect him to make a decision between them. As he mulled over the possibilities in his mind, weighing the two alternatives, knowing that the future of his prize stallion would rest on this decision, he remained frustrated. No clear choice presented itself.
An intriguing third possibility came to mind. He examined the idea over from various perspectives and yes, it could work. If both parties agreed. The more he thought about it the more convinced he was that this was the only way he would find the right rider for Tempest. Now, to convince the others that he was right when he addressed them after dinner tonight. He was not looking forward to it.
~ ~ ~
While Tempest was being put away following Jessica’s ride, Mendelssohn had told Michael and Lionel as well as Jessica, Liz and Charlotte that he would make a decision about Tempest’s future and announce his decision at dinner that evening. Dinner would be served at 7:00. The group signaled their agreement, and while Jessica, Liz and Charlotte went back to the Inn to shower and change, Michael and Lionel went back to their room at Mendelssohn’s guest house. Michael checked his cell phone and noticed that his mother had tried to call him. He immediately returned her call.
“Michael,” his mother said. “I’m so glad you called. I wanted to keep you up to date with what has been happening with Ian. We deposited Ian’s bail money with the police yesterday, and they’ve released him into our custody, but they will not let him leave Surrey. We’ve set him up in your house and we’ve promised to stay with him until you return from your trip. He is wearing an ankle bracelet to monitor his location at all times, and he is not permitted to leave your property without the court’s permission. Even then, he can only go to certain approved locations, such as his attorney’s office.”
“How is he, Mum?” Michael asked. “When I saw him last, he had physical injuries and his mental state wasn’t much better.”
“I’m worried about him, Michael,” his mother responded. “He’s withdrawn and doesn’t say more than two words in response to our questions. He does appear to have gotten medical attention before he left the jail. His ribs are wrapped, and the cuts on his face have been bandaged. A couple of them have stitches. We’ve offered to drive him to the attorney you retained, but he doesn’t want to go without you. Do you have any idea when you will be back?”
“It will be soon, Mum,” Michael replied. “The stallion’s owner is going to announce his decision tonight. I might be back as early as tomorrow night if things don’t go my way.”
“I hope things work out for you, Michael,” his mother said. “It’s time you had something good happen for you. This family certainly needs some good news about now.”
“Agreed,” Michael said. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I have more definite plans.”
~ ~ ~
The hour had arrived for the group to gather in Mendelssohn’s spacious dining room. Jessica, Liz, and Charlotte arrived just as Michael and Lionel were being seated. Jessica noted right away that the room was decorated in a hunting lodge style, with pine paneled walls upon which were hanging various paintings of horses being ridden or running free. The largest painting was on the wall opposite the entry to the room behind the head of the dining table and portrayed horses ridden by red-coated gentlemen and ladies in 19th-century garb surrounded by hounds clearly preparing for a fox hunt. The table was set with decorative china and silverware, and placed along the center of the table were silver candleholders holding lit taper candles. Jessica glanced over at Liz, and noted that she was equally impressed with the formal atmosphere. Jessica was glad that she had dressed for the evening. She wore a comfortable, but stylish wrap dress in emerald green that matched the color of her eyes exactly. The dress hugged her figure and fell loosely about her hips ending just above her knees. Around her neck, she wore a simple gold chain that Hailey had given her as a gift last Christmas. Liz and Charlotte had also dressed for the evening. Liz wore a charcoal gray pant suit, and Charlotte work a black sheath dress with very expensive-looking pearls. Jessica noted that Michael and Lionel had also dressed for the evening, Michael in a black suit with a designer-brand tie, and Lionel in a slightly more casual tweed sport coat, open-necked dress shirt and navy slacks. Jessica couldn’t help but notice that Michael looked even more handsome when dressed in a suit and tie, and his striking blue eyes reflected the candlelight, looking luminous, and she felt captured by his gaze. She realized that he had caught her staring at him. She blushed with embarrassment, and dropped her gaze to the floor. When she looked up a couple of seconds later, she noticed Michael was grinning at her, and winked mischievously.
Michael’s eyes had instantly been drawn to Jessica as she entered the room with her companions. The dress she wore clung to her slim, athletic but feminine figure, and made her eyes look even more green than they had earlier in the light of day. He also noticed that Jessica was staring at him with admiration—a look he had seen from women many times before—but in Jessica’s case, the look wasn’t predatory or avaricious, it was instead simply and honestly admiring. When she blushed and looked away at the realization he had caught her staring at him, he found himself charmed and drawn to her lack of pretension and obvious innocence. He rewarded her interest by grinning at her and winking.
As the three women took their seats, Herr Mendelssohn positioned himself at the head of the table, his wife Gerta’s place was to his right. Michael sat to Mendelssohn’s left and Lionel sat to Michael’s left. Liz sat next to Gerta, with Jessica, then Charlotte positioned along that side of the table. Gerta was making several trips to the couple’s large kitchen bringing in large steaming platters of chicken, venison, and pork, potatoes, and vegetables. The food smelled delicious, and everyone at the table relaxed a bit and passed the platters around the table, taking what they wanted, and settling in to eat the hearty German meal. In an attempt to further defuse any remaining tension in the room, Mendelssohn addressed a question to Michael.
“Mr. Stafford,” Mendelssohn began, “you and Mr. Hayes appear to be very good friends. How long have you known each other?”
Michael looked over at Lionel, who smiled back at him and nodded his assent for Michael to answer the question.
“Well, Herr Mendelssohn,” Michael began, “Lionel and I have known each other since we were boys together in Bristol. We came from very different backgrounds, truth be told, but we both shared a love of horses. We met because my Uncle Thomas was a horse trainer at the Bristol race track, and I loved spending time with him after school and on weekends, watching him train the young thoroughbreds. I usually rode my bike to the track right from school on weekdays, because my parents own a restaurant in Bristol, and were both working most days there. I sometimes brought my brother Ian with me, because he was younger, and for a time couldn’t be home alone if I wasn’t there. Lionel was at the track to avoid an abusive father and a neglectful mother, and through sheer stubbornness and determination became a groom, then an exercise rider there. He worked for my uncle on many occasions, but he also worked for other trainers at the track.
“One day Michael noticed one of the other trainers at the track cursing and berating me for some minor offense, and interceded on my behalf,” Lionel said. “He reported the verbal abuse to his uncle, who made it a point to warn the trainer off, and I received much better treatment after that.” At least to all appearances, Lionel thought to himself. Not all the abuse had stopped, however. Michael hadn’t known and Lionel was ashamed to share with him he had also been subjected to sexual abuse by one of the more powerful trainers on the track who threatened him with dismissal if he didn’t comply. The scars from that experience were invisible and even more devastating to a thirteen-year-old boy confused about his sexuality.
“I made it a point to look for Lionel every time I visited the track to make sure he was OK, and we spent a lot of time together—when he wasn’t busy working—watching my uncle train the race horses. We became close,” Michael said. “We’ve been friends ever since.”
Lionel mentally winced at that last remark. They had not been friends the entire time. In fact, Lionel hadn’t considered himself Michael’s friend for over a year, although he was doing his best to convince Michael he was still his friend. Lionel carefully fixed a pleasant expression on his face.
“Michael’s right,” Lionel said. “Even after we left our respective homes and pursued differing careers with horses, we kept in touch, and met occasionally at competitions, clinics and the like. My path led to working with off-the-track thoroughbreds to prepare them for a second life as pleasure horses. Michael, on the other hand, found a trainer that recognized his talent for dressage and supported his development, even helping him find his Olympic mount, Romeo.”
“Lionel is being too modest,” Michael interjected. “His work with thoroughbreds led him to find a world class gelding named Accolade that he campaigned successfully on the international stage. He could have qualified for the Olympics.”
“That’s enough, Michael,” Lionel quickly interrupted Michael before he could complete his thought. “These people aren’t interested in the details of my Olympic aspirations.”
Michael understood immediately why Lionel had interrupted him. He couldn’t blame him for not wanting to discuss the details of the British Olympic trials last year. He quickly changed the subject. “Miss Warren, how did you and Elizabeth meet?”
Jess swallowed past the lump that had instantly appeared in her throat as everyone at the table was now looking at her expectantly. She looked over at Liz, who smiled in encouragement. “Liz and I met when I was in junior high. I was the typical horse crazy teenager and wouldn’t quit bugging my parents to get me riding lessons. They finally took me to Liz’s farm and introduced themselves and me to her and explained that they couldn’t afford to buy me a horse, but were interested in my learning to ride from someone who had the patience and experience to teach me. Liz was definitely that person.
I started with a school horse named Jazz that Liz kept specifically for beginners, and I eventually progressed to the point where I needed my own horse. Liz found a great but affordable intermediate horse for me named Sandy, and I started working for her part time after school and on weekends to earn the money to pay for her board and lessons. I competed with Sandy until I was a sophomore in high school. After I graduated from high school, I became a working student for Liz and it was then that Liz allowed me to ride her former international competition partner, Calliope. Callie and I clicked immediately, and we competed first locally, then nationally. She made me look good, no doubt about it, and she taught me so much. It was riding Callie that kept me sane after the accident that killed my parents. I owe her so much. I was devastated when Callie was injured just a couple of months ago and could no longer compete.”
“Jessica is being entirely too modest,” Liz said. “She was the answer to my prayers when she offered to ride Callie for me. The mare had been restless, and did not appreciate the fact that I had retired her before she was ready. Callie loved competition, and loved the work involved in FEI level dressage. Jessica is a fantastic rider, and has an equally strong work ethic. The two of them made an unbeatable pair, and after a great deal of success at the shows, the US Equestrian Team took notice.”
Jessica flushed at Liz’s praise. In her mind, it was truly Callie’s talent and experience that had led to their success in competition. She was just the lucky person who was in the right place at the right time to take advantage.
Michael had been listening with undivided attention to Jessica’s recounting of her history with horses. He admired her determination, and knew that Elizabeth Randall would not have taken Jessica on as a working student if she didn’t think she had the talent and work ethic to succeed at dressage at the international level. Although he had Googled Jessica’s name yesterday when he discovered she would be his competition for Tempest, what didn’t come through in the articles he had read about her was her passion for dressage and her appreciation for the success she had experienced. She clearly didn’t have the ego he had experienced from some riders competing at the international level and he was drawn to her humility and relative innocence.
The evening progressed more quickly now that Herr Mendelssohn’s guests were becoming more comfortable with each other, and it wasn’t long before dessert had been served, and the last dishes cleared away. Mendelssohn stood up and cleared his throat to get his guests’ attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mendelssohn began, “I asked all of you here this evening not only for the purpose of breaking bread with you and getting to know you better, but also to announce my decision with regard to Tempest’s future.”
“Yes, Herr Mendelssohn, we know why we’re here,” Lionel said. “So please don’t keep us in suspense. What is your decision?”
Mendelssohn again cleared his throat, and looked over at Gerta, who nodded and smiled with encouragement. He had discussed his decision in depth with Gerta. Her future as well as his rested on Tempest’s success, and she had agreed wholeheartedly with his decision.
“I learned through recent experience with Herr Wolfe that one ride is not sufficient for me to determine the best rider for Tempest. I have, therefore, decided that I have not seen enough of either Miss Warren or Mr. Stafford with Tempest to make a final decision about his future. I need at least sixty days to observe Tempest being ridden by both of you to make my decision. I believe in that way, Tempest will make the decision for me. Whichever of the two of you makes the best showing at a competition here in Germany with Tempest after sixty days will be his rider for the foreseeable future.”
“What?” Lionel shouted.
“You can’t be serious!” Charlotte exclaimed simultaneously.
Liz exchanged a glance with Michael, who appeared just as stunned as the others. Jessica was conspicuously silent, so Liz addressed Mendelssohn directly.
“Herr Mendelssohn, how to you intend to observe both Jess and Michael riding and working with Tempest for sixty days?”
“I had hoped you both could stay here on my property and I could arrange a mutually agreeable schedule for equal time with Tempest,” Mendelssohn replied.
Michael’s shock at Mendelssohn’s declaration turned to anger. “Herr Mendelssohn, I must strenuously object to your terms,” Michael said. “Your plan is completely unrealistic for a horse with the talent and experience that Tempest has. Even if you do insist on this course, my personal situation will not allow me to participate. My brother Ian is in trouble, and I must return to England right away. He needs me. There is no way on earth I can stay here in Germany for 60 days. If these are your terms, I must respectfully decline. Thank you for the opportunity.” He turned to Lionel. “Let’s go, Lionel, we’re finished here.”
As Michael and Lionel got up and began to leave, Mendelssohn panicked. He had not anticipated this kind of complication to his plan, and quite frankly needed to keep Michael as a possible rider option for Tempest. He sought frantically for a solution that would preserve his ability to allow Tempest to choose the rider most compatible for him. A thought came to him and he smiled and reached out to Michael and Lionel. “Please, Mr. Stafford, maybe there is another way. I understand you have a first class riding and training facility in the UK. Because I have created a much more rigorous process to determine who will ultimately have Tempest, I am willing to be flexible. Would you be willing to keep Tempest at your property and allow Miss Warren, Mrs. Randall and I to stay there for sixty days so that both of you will have equal time?”
Michael hesitated as he pondered Mendelssohn’s question. His manor house in Surrey had five bedrooms in addition to his master bedroom, but most of those bedrooms had seldom, if ever, been used. There was furniture there, since he had planned to have weekend long clinics which would require participants to stay at least one or two nights, and had set the house up for that purpose. It had been months, though, since any of those rooms had seen any use. It was possible, though, if he wanted Tempest enough, to take on the extra burden. He sighed. He needed what Tempest could provide for him: a return to prominence in the dressage world he had lost through his own recklessness, and the means to earn enough money to fund Ian’s defense. He had to continue.
“Yes, Herr Mendelssohn, I do have sufficient space for the three of you. If Miss Warren and Mrs. Randall agree.”
While Michael and Mendelsohn were talking, at the other end of the table, Liz and Jessica had quietly been discussing their options. Both of them had obligations at home that made an extended stay in Europe difficult. Liz was in the middle of a nasty divorce and had a daughter with cerebral palsy who needed daily care and supervision. Not to mention her boarding stable and therapeutic riding school to run. Jessica had Hailey to care for, and didn’t feel at all comfortable leaving her alone in Ohio for 60 days. Charlotte joined the conversation, and, after Jessica and Liz had explained their reasons for hesitating over the decision to continue, Charlotte offered to work with the USET and Blake to obtain additional funds to either travel Hailey and Liz’s daughter Amy to the UK, or to provide the funds for the women to travel home on weekends or at least as necessary to take care of any personal matters required during their absence.
With Charlotte’s assurances, Jessica responded to Michael. “Yes, Mr. Stafford, Herr Mendelssohn, we accept your kind offer.”
Michael looked over at Charlotte. “Miss McMillan, will you be staying as well?”
“Since I’m here mainly to handle a purchase,” Charlotte said, “and it appears a purchase will not happen for another sixty days, if ever, I will be returning to the States. Rest assured, sir, that both the USET and my brother will hear about this, and I predict that neither will be happy with this development.”
“Noted, Miss McMillan,” Mendelssohn said. “But I am standing by my plan.” He looked over at Michael. “Mr. Stafford, how soon should I plan to ship Tempest to your facility?”
“Let me call my barn manager and have her start making arrangements. We have mares at our facility, and we will have to segregate Tempest from the mares so they’re safe and he isn’t tempted to misbehave.”
“I understand,” Mendelssohn replied. “Although Tempest is very well behaved, it is always better to remove temptation whenever possible.”
“I will let you know at breakfast tomorrow,” Michael said. “Will that suffice?”
“Certainly. Miss Warren, you, Mrs. Randall, and Ms. McMillan are welcome to breakfast here tomorrow morning as well.”
“Thank you, Herr Mendelssohn.” She looked at Liz and Charlotte, who nodded in acceptance. “We accept. If you will please excuse us, we have arrangements of our own to make to accommodate this major change in plans. If you’ll excuse us?”
Mendelssohn nodded. “Of course. I will see you all tomorrow morning.”