Leap of Faith (28 page)

‘I'm done with horses. I told you that.'

‘So why are you standing here at the window watching her with those cogs so obviously turning in that pretty little head of yours?'

Jessica stayed silent. It was frightening, sometimes, how well he could read her.

‘Since when have you shied away – pardon the pun – from putting a horse through its paces?' he persisted.

‘Since I broke my ankle. Remember that small matter of me being laid up for six weeks?' she snapped, louder than she'd meant to. She'd meant to keep it at a light banter, but she was unsettled by the conflict between her head and her heart.

‘That was a totally different situation. And, anyway, how many years have you ridden – often on cantankerous beasts – without incident? Faith looks like a pussy cat compared to most of the others you've had.'

He was right. And she did want to satisfy her curiosity. But she didn't like him pushing her like this – clearly so desperate to fix her. As if there was something wrong with her, which there certainly wasn't! No, if she was going to ride the horse it would be when she was ready and on her own terms. Not that she knew what they were or if there would ever be any such terms.

‘I think it's time we let her out. Just into one of the smaller horse paddocks. And just during the day. She must be bored cooped up in the yard like that. What do you think?' Steve asked, making an effort to change tack.

‘Okay.'

Jessica seethed. Horses were her domain. She should be the one calling the shots on them. But she had to concede that she had forfeited that position by not embracing Faith the moment she arrived. She'd made it clear she was Steve's horse. The only way she would re-establish the natural order here was to make Faith hers: start riding her; do something useful with her. But she wasn't prepared to do that just to make a point.

God, it was worrying that she was feeling so insecure and competitive with her own husband. They were meant to be a team, for God's sake. The question now was what she was going to do about it. Things had to return as close as they could to the way they'd been, especially if they were going to raise a baby together.

It was all too much. This thinking was doing her head in.

‘I'll go and let her out and then go for a walk,' she said. ‘I'll catch you later.'

‘But it's almost lunchtime.'

‘Eat, then, if you're hungry – don't wait for me.'

Steve's crestfallen expression pierced her heart, but she turned and walked away.

Jessica's brain buzzed with nothing coherent, just a general sense of unease and confusion. She frowned as she laced up her runners, called the dogs and walked across to the stables.

Standing at the fence in front of Faith, she felt a wave of sadness sweep through her. The poor horse. And now she was neglecting her too, by shunning her. As irrational as it sounded in her head, she couldn't shake the feeling that the horse was lonely and it was her fault. While Faith didn't neigh, she did look pleased to have company whenever someone approached her yard – her ears pricked up and she tossed her head as if in greeting. And Jessica didn't think it was all about the prospect of being fed. Even though the horse no longer showed fear, she still didn't dive straight into her feed bin. She really seemed to prefer human company over eating.

Faith was evidently what people referred to as a people horse – horses who loved their human owners and wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. It was usually the result of being kept alone, or having been bottle fed as foals and forming an attachment to humans that way. Jessica wouldn't mind betting that if there were more than one horse, Faith would still look to a human for company. She just had that look about her – as impossible as it was to prove. She'd never had a people horse, and had never been fond of the idea of them; from what she'd heard, they tended to be too disrespectful and pushy on the ground.

Before she knew it, Jessica had in her hand the lead rope she'd left hanging on the gate, the gate open, and the end of the rope clipped onto Faith's halter.

‘Would you like to come for a walk with me and stretch your legs?' Jessica asked, leading her out. ‘A change of scenery would be nice, wouldn't it?'

Jessica half expected the horse to become skittish outside the confined space, but she didn't; she walked alongside Jessica with her ears pricked, taking it all in, but her head was lowered, indicating she was perfectly at ease.

Jessica smiled as she thought about what Steve would be seeing from the window: Jessica, Faith and the two dogs all walking companionably down the road. As silly as she was being, she thought Faith was smiling. She could have sworn the corner of Faith's mouth closest to her was ever so slightly turned upwards. She patted the horse's neck, and she turned towards Jessica and gave a gentle nudge. She gave the horse's ears a ruffle.

‘You're a good girl.'

What a lovely creature. And definitely a people horse. Jessica was surprised to find this thought didn't bother her in the slightest.

As they turned out of the driveway onto the public road and the wind blew their scents to the animals across in neighbouring paddocks, horses, sheep, goats and alpacas lifted their heads from their grazing and came over to the fence to inspect the interlopers. Jessica chuckled to herself. It was like the opposite of the parting of the sea. She felt like Doctor Dolittle, strolling along with her menagerie, though it wasn't as if she was being followed by a line of chooks or ducks. She was simply a woman leading a horse and being kept company by two brown kelpies. Nothing to write home about. Still, she couldn't shake the great feeling of contentment that had settled upon her. The sun was shining, there was a gentle breeze, it wasn't too hot, and she was leading a sweet, kind horse, who was ambling beside her with a smile on her face.

She led Faith over to a patch of lush, green grass and stopped. A horse, a few goats, a couple of sheep and three alpacas were nearby, and had resumed their grazing. Faith didn't seem at all interested in making friends with anyone other than Jessica and Laurel and Hardy.

‘Go on, enjoy the grass,' she urged. But Faith just stood there beside her obediently and patiently, waiting for them to continue. Jessica bent down and pulled out a clump and offered it to the horse, who took it and then the hint.

After grazing the edge of the road for a few minutes, Faith was happy to be turned around and for them to make their way home with the sun on their backs.

Jessica stretched out like a starfish across the bed, enjoying the feel of space and the warm patches on Steve's side – he'd left earlier for a CFS working bee. She luxuriated in the thought of a lie-in. Then she'd go for a walk and take Faith with her for another graze of the roadside grass; she'd seemed to enjoy that once she'd figured out what was expected.

And then what? Perhaps she might put the horse on the lunge and see what happened. Maybe she'd even be brave enough to hop on. Just a sit to make sure Faith was okay about it. With that thought she drifted back into sleep.

Jessica woke sometime later with a start. She was sticky with sweat. God, she'd had a bad dream. What was it about? Not the water jump one again, was it? No, thankfully she hadn't had that one for a while now. Not since … when? Jessica lay with her eyes closed frowning, trying to remember. It didn't matter. What was the cause of her being so dishevelled?

Snippets started coming slowly back to her: An old lady was standing at a fence, crying. Off in the distance was a chestnut horse. The horse was saddled but riderless, its reins hanging. Oh God, she'd dreamt of Talia, of her grandmother, of Faith.

Great, just when she'd managed to banish her own nightmare, she'd conjured up someone else's! She opened her eyes and was surprised at just how much light was in the room. It must be after nine o'clock. Since when did she ever stay in bed that late unless she was unwell? She took an inventory of how she was feeling and was almost disappointed to find no nausea threatening. When was she going to be blessed with a baby?

She threw the covers back and got out of bed. She was still sticky underneath her pyjamas and longed for a shower, but that would be wasteful. She'd wait until after she'd worked up a good sweat on her walk and from cleaning out the yards. She dragged clothes on, downed a cup of tea and two pieces of toast, laced up her runners, and headed out. Faith looked up as she approached, and nickered. Jessica smiled. She loved the unconditional love animals offered. The dogs, who had been snoozing in the sun, got up and frolicked around her, bantering between themselves and clamouring for her attention.

‘Good morning, everyone,' she called. She felt brighter and cheerier than she had in months. She must have needed the extra sleep, though why, she wasn't sure.
Stop analysing it and ruining the moment. You're feeling good, end of story.

Looking at Faith standing beside her empty feed bin, Jessica was overwhelmed by the feeling she just had to know more about the horse. And now. Today she would not take her out, but would saddle her up and lunge her on the arena. See just what training she'd had.

Bubbling with energy and excitement, she went into her tack room, selected a saddle that looked like it would be the best fit and a bridle that might shorten up enough for the face that was considerably smaller than any of those of the horses Jessica had had for many years. She looked down at her attire – track pants and sneakers – and deliberated going back to the house and changing. And risk losing the momentum? No way. Compromising, she slipped on her short stable boots and wrapped leather chaps around her calves and did them up. She stuck a helmet on and did it up before carrying everything out. She'd worn a helmet to lunge ever since a young horse had kicked up its heels on the lunge and nearly connected with her head years ago. It was hot, uncomfortable, and it made her head sweat, but it was worth it to be safe – especially when no one was around to call if anything went wrong. And, anyway, after a few minutes concentrating on other things, the discomfort of wearing a helmet always melted away.

‘What do you think about being saddled up?' Jessica asked Faith, as she draped everything over the rail of the yard. She wondered how long it had been since the horse had been saddled. Perhaps she hadn't even been ridden since the day Talia had died. Would it bring back fearful memories for her?

Even with those concerns, Jessica found herself genuinely excited about embarking on a small quest to figure something out about this unknown quantity standing in front of her. Staring at Faith staring back at her with curious patience, she thought this might even be more rewarding than any run in a high-level eventing competition or being selected for the state or national team. God, she'd missed this.

Calm down
, she heard her inner voice say,
you're only saddling her up and testing her on the lunge
. For all she knew the horse might have a flashback and freak out like she had when Jessica had bent down that first day.

She led Faith out onto the arena, which she preferred to use for lunging rather than her dedicated round yard; it kept the horses more interested and stopped them getting so bored. The horse was in a nice low frame and calm but alert, and seemed no different from before she'd been saddled. She'd accepted the bit just fine and hadn't used any dirty tricks, like moving so Jessica couldn't get the girth done up or puffing her stomach out to prevent it being done up tight enough to fully secure the saddle. Jessica felt cautiously optimistic.

‘Who's a good girl?' Jessica cooed, rubbing Faith's face. The dogs had retreated to their old spot beside the arena, taking up their usual positions of heads on paws, bored expressions on their faces. Jessica smiled. It was almost like old times.

Except it wasn't, was it? Her father wasn't there in his deck chair beside them, ready to shout orders and criticism and offer the occasional gruff word of praise.

A wave of sadness surged through her and she swallowed tightly as Faith nudged her gently as if to say, ‘It's okay', or perhaps, ‘Well, come on, let's get this show on the road.' The horse's touch almost sent the gathering tears tumbling down Jessica's face. After all Faith had been through, here she was, still kind and calm and urging her on. Jessica Collins-now-Harrington, who had dealt with big, difficult horses and huge jumps for many years and who had a history of disliking mares and horses without impeccable breeding, was being urged on by this little misfit.
Get a grip, Jessica, you're being melodramatic and overly emotional.

‘Okay, come on, Faith, let's see what we've got. And walk on,' she commanded, very gently slapping the loops of the lunge rein against her leg. She fed out the excess through her gloved hands as Faith started walking away from her. ‘Good girl. Walk on. That's it.' A slight sense of relief tinged with excitement rippled through her. The horse knew what to do. And she wasn't frightened.

‘And trot,' she called. ‘Trot on.' Again the horse responded beautifully. She actually had reasonable movement. Once the ribs stopped showing, Faith would probably look a half-decent piece of horseflesh.

As the horse completed her fourth circle, Jessica wondered if she dared ask for a canter. But really, what was there to lose?

‘And canter,' she called crisply. Again the horse responded instantly. Jessica's heart filled, but with what, she couldn't quite determine. She scrutinised the stride. Not bad. Actually, really quite good. She was smooth and balanced, and quite long and loping for her small size. Jessica found herself making a bet with the ether that Faith would be very comfortable to ride.

But this might be her better side. As she well knew, horses, like humans, had a favoured side. To their better side they were always smoother, more balanced, found it easier to bend and flex. She'd have to see. She brought the horse slowly back down through the paces to halt and was especially impressed to see her stop on the outer track and not turn and walk in towards her – a mark of a horse who was well trained and obedient, and who had obviously done plenty of work on the lunge.