Leap of Faith (12 page)

‘Your mind's made up, isn't it?' Steve finally asked after a few moments' silence. The television flashed bright and dull as it went about its business, the sound on mute.

‘Yes. The money will be helpful. We could be looking at around fifty grand.'

‘Gosh, that would be helpful,' Steve said, inadvertently swayed. ‘But, honestly, no money is worth seeing you unhappy. And I think you will be. I'm certain of it. But, ultimately, it's your choice,' he said. ‘Cup of tea? I certainly need one.'

‘Yes, thanks. So who did you see in town? Any goss?'

‘Not really. Saw Tom Rankin, Sebastian Jones and Jack Green outside the newsagent. They're all worried about the long-term weather forecast – saying we're in for another drought.'

‘Are you worried?'

‘No more than usual. Though I am thinking we might hold off from getting a new bull and rams and get in extra feed instead. I put in the order we discussed, but I think I'll do some more calculations and phone back in the next few days.'

‘We'll be able to do it all if I sell the horses.'

He stood. ‘That's your money, not the farm's.'

‘But what's mine is ours. I'd like to help.' Jessica saw his jaw tighten ever so slightly. He was as stubborn and proud as she was – he wanted to do it alone – though he wasn't dogged or stupid enough to knock back her money if it meant insulating the business against hard times. And while they were doing okay now, things could turn around very quickly. She knew taking the help would be a pretty bitter pill for him to have to swallow. Just as much as her using farm money to buy horses would be for her, she realised. She wanted to throw her hands up in the air at the mess she'd made of everything.

‘What does Tiffany think of you totally going out of horses?' Steve asked over the roar of the kettle.

‘I haven't spoken to her about it.' She felt a pang of annoyance and almost snapped at him that she was quite capable of making her own decisions, thank you very much! But he had a point. Since meeting Tiffany, Jessica hadn't bought a pair of horse boots or reins without at least discussing it with her.

She knew Tiffany would side with Steve on this, but she also knew Tiffany would understand better than most. Tiffany had had a serious fall show jumping at pony club as a kid. While it had ended up not being serious, for a while they had suspected she'd injured her spine. It had really put the wind up her, and it was why she stuck to the lower levels of dressage, the safer sport. They'd often discussed how their confidence was diminishing with age, and how much harder the ground looked and felt with each passing year.

‘Oh well, it's not like you can't get more horses later if you change your mind,' Steve said again, as if trying to convince himself. He was looking out the window at the horses as he waited for the tea bags to steep. ‘But I like those guys,' he added wistfully, ‘especially now I'm getting to know them so well.'

You're really not helping
, Jessica thought. She had to keep her mind on the money, and the fact it was selfish to have such good, well-trained horseflesh going to waste in the paddock. Her father would have been totally with her on that front, but furious with her for tossing it all in so easily after all the years they'd put in.
I probably wouldn't have had to resort to this if you were here
. Damn him for dying and leaving her.

It was best she sent her life in a totally different direction – motherhood. Making a family with the man she loved. Part of her hoped she'd fall pregnant quickly to prove this was the right thing to do, another was quite terrified at the prospect of being responsible for something so small and fragile.

Steve went out to do his rounds, as they called them; a quiet drive around checking the stock, troughs and fences. Jessica thought she wouldn't have minded going along with him and sitting in the ute to break the monotony of being inside on the couch. But Steve had marched out, throwing, ‘Just doing the rounds, be back in a bit,' over his shoulder. And he'd called the dogs to accompany him.

He'd been distracted since her bombshell about the horses, and seemed almost angry. He often was when perplexed or worried about something: his forehead would crease into a frown and his eyebrows would lower, making him look decidedly cranky. In the early days, it had taken Jessica ages to learn to correctly read him. Far too many times she'd accused him of being angry at her when he was merely confused or thinking something through.

She knew Steve was worried about her and her decision. Hell,
she
was worried about her and her decision! But she didn't see any other logical course of action. Steve would see that in time. Hopefully the jittery feeling would leave her soon too. Meanwhile she had to swallow down all the sadness and put on a happy face. It was the right thing to do.

Keeping all her gear was a good idea. She could almost picture herself with small children, teaching them to ride, taking them to pony club, plaiting up small ponies for shows. She loved teaching the handful of students who had come to her over the years and could see how much more it would mean to be introducing her own children to the world of horses. Jessica felt the tiniest glimmer of excitement. Yes, perhaps this really was a sign of the new phase in her life – motherhood. Was she becoming clucky? The emotion wasn't that strong, but she was feeling a little buoyed.

Jessica got up and went over to the window and watched the horses grazing. Her stomach seemed to grow full of lead once again and a sadness she hadn't felt since losing her mother overcame her. God, could she do this? Really? Tears welled and then started to spill. She would have put her hands to her face, but she had to keep hold of the crutches supporting her. She dipped her head and sobbed. She knew she should look away; distract herself, but another part of her mind said if she cried enough tears now, let them all out, when the time came to say goodbye she would be able to stay strong.

Twenty minutes later, a few tears were still trickling down her cheeks. She hadn't even cried this much over losing her father. And this thought brought another flood and a sharp stab of guilt. Jessica felt her knees go weak and was grateful for the crutches that stopped her crumpling to the floor. It's what Steve and Tiffany had said numerous times while expressing their worry over what she was putting herself through: she
had
been trying to outrun her grief over her father's death by keeping herself busy and focussed.

Slowly she made her way back to the couch. Maybe she shouldn't give up horses; if she did, she'd have all that time to think, to regret her lost goals, to miss her parents – to feel sorry for herself.

Exactly. She was just feeling sorry for herself. She needed to buck up. Someone would give the horses the home they needed. She had to forget them – she had new goals now. The money would help the farm significantly if drought set in, as forecast. And the sooner she sold, the better the price; in twelve months, or even six, there could be a glut of good horses for sale as people tightened their belts. She was doing the right thing; she just had to hold her nerve.

Some time later Jessica heard the ute come back. But when Steve hadn't come in after a few minutes, she looked over the back of the couch and out the window.

He was on the phone, clearly agitated; pacing back and forth and running a hand through his hair.
Gosh, what's happened?
she wondered, starting to worry. Then he was nodding, calmer. He stopped pacing, stopped fussing with his hair, and slid his phone back in his pocket. He rubbed the ears of the dogs in the back of the ute and swept an arm in command, encouraging them out of the tray.

She lowered herself back onto the leather and turned up the sound on the TV.

‘How's the patient?' Steve said as he came in. Jessica noted the weariness in his tone.

‘I'm fine,' she said. ‘How's everything?'

‘All good. I sure hope they've got it wrong about the long-term forecast of drought. But we'll be right,' he added as if reminding himself. It was his mantra, and everything usually did turn out okay in the end, not that they hadn't had their ups and downs and share of hairy moments.

This time they definitely would be fine, Jessica knew. No matter how hard it would be to say goodbye to the horses, deep down she did feel good about being able to make a considerable financial contribution to their enterprise. Steve's male pride wouldn't totally love it, but he was a smart enough businessman to take help where it was offered.

She watched Steve making tea for them, itching to ask who he'd been talking to on the phone.

She was still teetering between asking him and admonishing herself that he'd tell her when and if he wanted to when she heard a car arrive outside. She didn't get up to look, only clutched her mug of tea, silently willing Steve to get up from the other couch and go. He did. He put his mug down on the coffee table and eased himself to his feet. He was still weighed down by something, Jessica noted, and she felt a stab of remorse that she might be the cause. ‘No pain, no gain' swept into her mind, but left just as swiftly, leaving her nodding in agreement and staring down into her milky tea.

‘What's this I hear about you selling up and getting out of horses?' Tiffany's voice was loud as she stepped into the lounge area.

Jessica looked up, stunned, and took in her friend's navy blue shirt with orange Millers' Fodder logo. So that's who Steve had been on the phone to. Tiffany had that just-dropped-everything look about her. Jessica stared at her friend, unsure what to say.

‘Well, is it true?'

Jessica nodded as she prepared herself to speak.

‘I'll just leave you two to talk,' Steve said quietly. Jessica watched as he went into the bedroom and came out with their clothes hamper. She felt a new rush of affection for him and then, as he closed the laundry door behind him, a new ache of guilt at causing him to worry and for upsetting their generally harmonious life. The accident and last few days really had shaken things up.

‘Why? What's going on in that brain of yours?' Tiffany asked, more kindly now as she settled herself onto the couch. Laurel left Jessica's side and hopped up beside Tiffany.
Thanks very much, traitor
.

Jessica told Tiffany all she'd told Steve earlier. It really did make sense – even more so on the second telling. But that didn't ease the pain inside her when picturing how sad and lonely she would feel, saying goodbye and then looking out at empty paddocks and day yards.

She knew Tiffany had every right to turn around and tell her that it wasn't what her father would want, that she was being a victim. But Tiffany didn't say any of that. She sat through Jessica's explanation of what she was thinking and feeling, occasionally nodding, but more often shaking her head slowly and pursing her lips. Then, just as Steve had before her, Tiffany tried to offer alternatives, halfway measures. When Jessica told her of the nightmares and being fully convinced she couldn't ride cross-country again, she made the suggestion of concentrating on dressage, despite knowing Jessica's disinterest in it, that it just didn't give her the buzz cross-country did. Tiffany then pushed the angle of getting counselling.

It wasn't that Jessica didn't believe in counselling; she'd heard it had done wonders with many sports people. She just didn't see the point in paying a fortune to be told she was giving up too easily and letting her fear win. She didn't want someone to tell her there were other good coaches. There were, plenty, but none with the skills of Jeff Collins. Her dreams were over, she just had to face up to that. And she had. She was.

‘You've really thought this through, haven't you? There's nothing I can say to change your mind?' Tiffany said finally.

Jessica shook her head. ‘My mind's made up. It's hard – and it's probably going to get a lot harder – but it's what I have to do. It's what I
feel
I have to do.'

‘Okay. Fair enough, I suppose,' Tiffany said with a deep sigh. ‘I don't agree, and for the record I think you are going to regret it. But it's your decision and, as your friend who loves you very much, you have my full support.'

Jessica felt a huge weight she didn't even realise she was carrying leave her.

‘And if you do regret it,' Tiffany continued, ‘you can always get back into it later. You're keeping all your gear, right? At least for now?'

‘Yes.'

‘Good. Well, all I can say is I hope you'll make me an honorary aunt very soon.' She offered her friend a warm smile tinged with sadness.

‘I'm sorry Steve dragged you out here.'

‘He's worried about you, Jess. So am I.'

‘I know.'
I'm worried about myself
, Jessica wanted to say. She did feel a certain relief at having made a difficult decision, and had the sense of being in control again. But she couldn't ignore the suspicion that she was standing on a slippery slope with no way back. Hopefully it was just the pain and the medication messing with her. She was sure she'd start to feel better when the horses were gone and she could put the decision behind her.

Jessica heard the washing machine fill with water before the laundry door opened. She hoped Steve had thought to scrub the breeches she'd worn for the dressage portion of the competition clean by hand before putting them in – the ones from the cross-country had been cut from her and had ended up in the hospital bin, she supposed – before realising it didn't matter; she'd never be wearing those breeches again. With that thought a fresh lump lodged in her throat. She forced it aside.
Just the fear of change
.

‘Can I get you a cuppa, Tiff?' Steve asked, entering the lounge area.

‘That would be great, thanks. Can I have a hot chocolate, please? I'm all caffeined up for today.'