Pinot Noir by Lorraine Evanoff

Author:Lorraine Evanoff [Evanoff, Lorraine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: spy, Fiction, Thriller
Publisher: Lorraine Evanoff
Published: 2019-10-20T22:00:00+00:00

T W E N T Y

January 5, 2002

Her eyes opened reluctantly to a sliver of sunrise that had trickled through the almost impenetrable shutters. In a state of torpid arousal, her dreams of stallions and cockerels, roused by new surroundings and a strong male presence, faded into her subconscious. She extended her extremities to get the blood circulating and realized the actual sound of horse hooves and a rooster crowing must have prompted the wild dreamscape. She got up and cracked open the door.

“Vous savez monter à cheval, non?” Matthieu sat atop a horse holding the reins of a second horse in his hand.

“Yes, I know how to ride.”

“Allez, work before food.”

“Give me a minute.”

Louise brushed her teeth and got dressed in jeans, a cashmere turtleneck, and boots. In the mirror she spied a soupçon of her natural blonde roots. She put on her cashmere béret pulling it down over her ears, then borrowed the Barbour coat hanging on a hook by the door and went outside.

“What beautiful horses!” She petted the neck of her designated horse. “I don’t recognize the breed.”

“They are Russian Dons,” Matthieu replied.

“Oh, I’ve never heard of them.”

“Allez, montez.”

Louise got on the sturdy horse and trotted alongside Matthieu.

“Very noble,” Louise said.

“Life in Russia demands a universal horse,” Matthieu said. “They are superb under the saddle and make good carriage horses as well.”

“He almost looks like a racehorse.”

“Russia is not known as a country of equestrian sportsmen and gentleman riders, like England. The Russian Don is well rounded, equally equipped for racing as for hard practical work.”

“A Renaissance horse,” Louise said.

“Ah, oui!”

“How did you happen to get Russian horses?”

“Russian wine wholesalers. Our international sales are significant. In-kind trades are taxed at a lower rate, and since 9/11, there are greater restrictions on cash transactions. One of our Russian clients shipped in horses to barter with.”

“Très intéressant.”

“Allez!” Matthieu kicked his horse into gear and they took off at a gallop through the undulating vineyards. Louise’s horse knew where to go, so she leaned forward and enjoyed the scenery. Clouds smudged pink across the blue horizon and the frigid air met the dewy warmth of the earth, creating a steamy haze.

They veered left and cut across the estate. Louise saw a fast-approaching stone barrier, but the horses weren’t slowing, so she braced her knees, feet firmly in the stirrups, prepared to use her legs as shock absorbers. Then the horses floated over the obstacle and landed gracefully with minimum impact. They rode a little further then stopped near a stone shed and tethered the horses. Matthieu gathered tools from the shed and explained his work. The “insider information” that “Karen” wanted for her “novel” had begun.

“It is important to prune even through the winter.” Matthieu tossed three logs into an old steel barrel placed sideways on a cart. He wheeled it to a row of vines, placed some dead sticks under the logs and kindled a flame. Using special clippers, he began pruning.

“How do you know what to cut?” Louise asked.

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