The Thirteenth Horse

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The Thirteenth Horse Page 3

by Amanda Wills


  ‘Gentle giants,’ said Kristy, remembering how he had taken the grass so delicately from her outstretched palm.

  ‘They are,’ Emma agreed. ‘And I will try re-advertising him in the New Year. But who’s going to buy a one-eyed horse when there are so many two-eyed ones for sale?’

  Kristy pictured the big black gelding standing like a statue in the bottom paddock. I would, she thought wistfully.

  KRISTY WAS PUSHING a wheelbarrow laden with hay across the yard when a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air. She jumped and the wheelbarrow wobbled and tipped over, scattering hay all over the newly-swept yard.

  ‘William!’ shrieked a voice. It appeared to be coming from Silver’s stable.

  Someone behind Kristy hooted with laughter. She turned to see a tall, skinny boy with a bridle over one shoulder and his long, thin arms looped under a saddle.

  ‘I swapped Silver’s girth for a shorter one so she’d think he’d got even fatter,’ he stage-whispered to Kristy, his eyes glinting with mischief.

  ‘I heard that!’ screeched the voice. A small, sturdy girl with a curly blonde bob stomped out of the stable straight past Kristy. She drew herself up to her full height, which was still only just about level with the boy’s shoulders, and poked him in the chest. ‘I have had enough of your stupid pranks, William Bergman!’

  William grinned at Kristy. ‘I thought it was inspired but sadly my sister was born without a sense of humour. You must be Kristy. Sofia said you were the new stablehand.’

  ‘Where’ve you hidden my girth?’ yelled Norah, completely ignoring Kristy.

  William pointed a thumb in the direction of the tack room. ‘It’s in the box with the travel boots.’

  Norah spun on her heels and stomped off. A few seconds later she re-appeared with a navy girth clutched in her hands. She glared at her brother. ‘Wait ’til I tell Mum.’

  ‘I’m trembling in my boots,’ said William. ‘Now, are you going to get over your strop and come and ride with me or not?’

  ‘I don’t have any choice, do I, seeing as we’ve only got the indoor school until five,’ she said. She looked at Kristy, who was darting about trying to catch wisps of hay before they were blown all over the yard. ‘You are going to wet that before you give it to Silver, aren’t you? He has a dust allergy. I’m sure Emma must have told you.’

  Taken aback by the girl’s imperious tone, Kristy found herself bobbing her head deferentially. ‘Yes, I’m just about to do it,’ she muttered, grabbing the last piece of hay by Norah’s leather-booted feet. ‘Sorry,’ she gabbled. ‘I’ll get out of your way now.’

  She had wheeled the barrow over to the tap when Norah’s piercing voice rang out again.

  ‘Hey, wait a minute, I know you, don’t I?’

  Kristy’s hand froze centimetres from the tap.

  ‘You’re the new girl at school, aren’t you?’ Norah nodded to herself. ‘Yes, I thought I recognised you. What are you doing working here?’

  Kristy feigned a smile. ‘I needed a job, Emma needed a stablehand. So here I am.’

  Norah looked her up and down and then pointed at the hay. ‘Well, make sure that gets a proper soak. I’ll know whose fault it is if Silver starts coughing again.’ And with that she turned on her heels and flounced back to the stable.

  KRISTY FILLED the last of the water buckets and carried them carefully across the yard, trying not to splash water onto her boots. She looked at her watch and smiled with satisfaction. It was a quarter past six. She’d been a whole fifteen minutes faster than she had the previous day. She remembered the carrots she’d brought for the black gelding. Cassius, she corrected herself. She’d left them in a bag in the tack room. If she was quick she could run down to the paddock to see him and still be home in time for supper.

  The door to the tack room was closed. Behind it Kristy could hear chatter and laughter. She hesitated outside, not wanting to intrude. And then she heard the familiar sound of Sofia’s voice and she pushed the door open.

  ‘Kristy!’ Sofia cried, ‘I was just coming to find you. Do you want a drink?’

  Kristy rocked back on her heels. William was sprawled on one of the armchairs, peering at his mobile phone. ‘Sofia makes an awesome hot chocolate,’ he said, his eyes not leaving the screen.

  His sister sat on one end of the sofa, her back rigid, and said nothing. Kristy could sense Norah didn’t want her muscling in.

  ‘Maybe another time? I promised Mum I’d be home by half-past.’ She grabbed her bag, shouted a goodbye and raced down to the bottom paddock, suddenly desperate to see Cassius.

  He was standing by the gate, as if he’d known she was coming. He cocked his head so he could watch her with his good eye. She rubbed his blaze and drank in every detail of him. The tufts of hair poking out of his smoky black ears; the snip of pink on his muzzle; his strong, broad chest; his right eye, which was slightly cloudy, like a wind-whipped sea. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He smelled delicious, of meadow grass and warm horse. Her aching back, her blisters, Norah’s hostility, all faded as she clung to him. He made her feel safe and content, yet she felt absurdly protective of him. One thing she knew for sure - she never wanted to let him go.

  5

  WAR HORSE

  ‘Did you hear me, Kristy Moore?’

  Mr Baker’s voice cut through Kristy’s daydream like an arrow and she shot up in her seat and looked at him guiltily.

  ‘No, I’m sorry, Mr Baker. I didn’t.’

  ‘One lunchtime detention for you, young lady.’ Their teacher narrowed his eyes and surveyed the class. ‘I’ll repeat myself for all those who were not paying attention the first time. For homework, I want you all to choose a subject you don’t know much about, research it and write me a five-hundred word essay on it. By tomorrow. Class dismissed.’

  The groans from the class were barely drowned out by the noise of scraping chairs as they filed out of the classroom. Mr Baker’s reputation as the strictest teacher in the school was well-deserved, and it wasn’t the first time Kristy had felt the sharp end of his tongue.

  The essay was forgotten by the time she arrived at Mill Farm. She found Emma mixing feeds in the barn.

  ‘Sofia and the twins don’t usually ride on a Wednesday so you’ve got a nice peaceful shift,’ said Emma.

  Kristy felt a surge of relief that she wouldn’t have to see Norah.

  ‘If I get my jobs done in time, would I be able to give Cassius a groom?’

  Emma tipped a scoop of pony nuts into a bucket and stretched her back. ‘I don’t see why not. He’s very easy to handle. Remember to approach him from his good eye so he can see you. And be careful he doesn’t accidentally stand on your foot. He weighs a ton.’

  Kristy raced through her jobs, mucking out the ponies in record time. She had brought them in, changed their rugs and given them their feeds by a quarter to six. She ran into the tack room and found Cassius’s headcollar hanging from a peg behind the door. It was enormous. She grabbed the carrot she’d brought from home and sprinted down to the bottom paddock.

  The big black gelding was grazing in the far corner of the field. Kristy called him and his head shot up. When he saw who it was he whinnied. Kristy vaulted over the gate and crossed the field in a few strides. Cassius crunched the carrot noisily and held his head low so she could slip the headcollar over his nose, but she still had to stand on tiptoes to fasten the headpiece.

  ‘I’ll walk on your left side so you can see me,’ she told him. In the yard she gave him a haynet and set to work, brushing the mud from his thick winter coat. When she realised there was no way she could reach his rump, she lugged over the mounting block and stood on that. She kept up a steady stream of chatter, telling him what she was going to do next. She was especially careful on his blind side so he knew where she was and what she was doing.

  She combed his mane and brushed the knots and burrs from his tail. He didn’t have thick feathers like other heavy horses she’
d seen. His hooves, however, were huge. As big as dinner plates. Kristy wasn’t sure she would even be able to lift them, let alone pick out his feet, but when she ran her hand down his near foreleg he picked up his foot immediately and shifted his weight so he wasn’t leaning on her. She laughed with pleasure. ‘You are a perfect gentleman, Cassius.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be gone?’ said Emma, appearing beside her. ‘It’s gone half past six.’

  Kristy’s hand flew to her mouth. Her mum would be furious if she wasn’t home in time for supper.

  Emma patted the gelding’s neck. ‘I’ll turn him back out. You’d better scram. I don’t want my favourite stablehand getting into trouble.’

  ‘I’m your only stablehand,’ said Kristy.

  ‘Exactly!’ said Emma, waggling a finger at her. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Kristy kissed Cassius’s soft-as-velvet nose, waved goodbye to Emma and ran all the way home. Her mum was dishing up as she flew through the door, gabbling apologies. She didn’t remember the essay until after they’d finished eating. Her heart sank. Mr Baker would go mad if she was late handing it in.

  She gave her parents what she hoped was an ingratiating smile. ‘I’ll clear up tonight.’

  ‘Thank you. That would be lovely,’ said her mum.

  ‘Afterwards, can I use the laptop?’

  ‘You know the rules, Kristy. No screens after seven o’clock.’

  ‘But it’s for homework. It’s got to be in first thing.’

  Her mum sighed. ‘Alright. Just for half an hour. But if this job keeps interfering with your schoolwork we are going to have to have a rethink, OK?’

  ‘You promised you’d give it four weeks!’ Kristy cried. ‘You can’t go back on your word. That’s not fair!’

  ‘Watch your attitude, Kristy Moore,’ said her dad from behind his newspaper.

  ‘Sorry, Mum,’ Kristy muttered. ‘Can I take it into my room? I can’t concentrate with the television on.’

  Her mum, who missed their big detached home with its book-lined study, sighed loudly. ‘Of course.’

  Kristy sat down at her desk and gazed blankly at the laptop. Research a subject she didn’t know much about, Mr Baker had said. But what? She looked around for inspiration. She might as well choose a subject she was interested in. Her eyes rested on the photo of Minty on her bedside table. She felt so involved in life at Mill Farm Stables that her days at Coldblow seemed like an eternity ago. An image of Cassius popped into her head. She grinned. Of course, it was obvious! Googling Percheron, she reached in her rucksack for her exercise book, unscrewed the lid of her fountain pen and started to read.

  Soon she was mesmerised. She’d had no idea Percherons originated from France and were first bred as war horses. The thought of Cassius galloping into battle, his mane and tail flying, made her insides go cold. Later, they were used to pull stagecoaches. Later still, they worked on farms pulling ploughs. Kristy wasn’t surprised to discover that they were known in the heavy horse world for their intelligence and their placid nature. They were powerful yet gentle, and they made awesome riding horses. Kristy sucked the end of her pen and wondered what Cassius would be like to ride. Like a giant rocking horse, she decided. Smooth and steady with a comfortable, rhythmic canter and a long, loping walk. She filled line after line of her exercise book and it took her no time at all to reach five hundred words. She closed the laptop down with a satisfied sigh. Who knew homework could actually be fun?

  6

  SECRET RIDER

  K risty woke early on Saturday morning, itching to be at Mill Farm. She bolted down her breakfast and pedalled furiously over to the stables, arriving an hour early.

  Emma had warned her that Saturdays were the busiest day at the yard as owners took advantage of the weekend to ride in the indoor school or hack out and Kristy wanted to groom Cassius before she started work.

  The night before Emma had given Kristy a list of her Saturday duties. After she had mucked out the ponies, she was to clean their tack. Her final job was to poo pick the four top paddocks and scrub and refill the water troughs.

  ‘I need to stock up on shavings so you’ll be on your own until about half nine. I’ll feed them and turn them out before I go,’ Emma had said.

  It was a cold, bright day and Kristy could see her breath in clouds as she marched down to the bottom paddock. Cassius was waiting for her by the gate and she slipped on his headcollar. No-one was about. She realised in her haste she was still wearing her cycling helmet. She was about to unstrap it when she had an idea. She shook her head. It was out of the question. She scratched the gelding’s poll and dithered. Could she? No-one would ever know. Cassius gave her gentle nudge, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and she led him beside the gate before she could change her mind. He stood serenely as she scrambled onto the top rung of the gate. He still looked impossibly tall, but if she grabbed a handful of his mane she reckoned she would make it. She cast one final look over her shoulder. There was still no-one about. And, before she knew it, she had jumped onto his back.

  Kristy had ridden bareback a couple of times at Coldblow, and had always felt as if she could easily slip and fall off, no matter how hard she gripped with her knees. But that had been on small, narrow riding school ponies like Minty. She might as well be comparing jet skis to a cruise ship. Cassius was so broad and solid it was like sitting atop the most comfortable armchair in the world. She felt totally balanced and utterly safe.

  Holding the end of the lead rope in one hand and a hank of mane in the other, Kristy squeezed with her legs. ‘Good boy,’ she murmured as he set off at a rolling walk around the paddock. His ears were pricked and his neck was arched. Kristy knew he was enjoying himself as much as she was. He probably hadn’t been ridden for months, maybe even years, yet he responded to her leg aids when she asked him to change direction, and stood squarely when she reluctantly decided she had better get off.

  Kristy led him up to the yard and tied him up outside the barn. She ducked into the tack room to find his grooming kit and almost jumped out of her skin when a figure sprang from nowhere.

  ‘Nice ride?’ said an acidic voice. Kristy’s heart sank. It was Norah.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she blustered.

  ‘Does Emma know you’ve been sneaking rides on her horse?’ Norah continued smoothly.

  Kristy felt a flush creep up her neck.

  ‘No, I didn’t think so. I think someone should tell her, don’t you? Although I don’t think she’s going to be very impressed.’

  Kristy flinched as if she’d been hit. She loved working at Mill Farm and was slightly in awe of the indomitable Emma Miller. The thought of her new boss’s disappointed face when she realised Kristy was just the latest in her long line of useless stablehands was too awful to contemplate.

  ‘Please don’t say anything. It was only once and I won’t do it again,’ Kristy said.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I think I have a duty to,’ Norah said regretfully.

  Kristy noticed a small, self-righteous smile playing on Norah’s lips and anger stirred inside her. She had always hated bullies.

  ‘Actually, it’s fine,’ she said loudly. ‘I’ll tell Emma as soon as she’s back. Save you the trouble,’ she added, smiling sweetly.

  A flicker of surprise wiped the smirk from Norah’s face and she opened her mouth to protest. But Kristy had grabbed Cassius’s grooming kit and fled into the yard before she could utter a word.

  TELLING EMMA she had ridden Cassius behind her back was the hardest thing Kristy had ever had to do. Her limbs felt as heavy as lead as she dragged herself around the yard, looking for her boss. She found her raking the surface in the indoor school.

  ‘Has someone died?’ Emma asked, seeing the woebegone look on her face.

  ‘No, but you might wish someone had when I tell you what I’ve done.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I rode Cassius in the field today.’

  ‘You did what?’ Emma spluttered.
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  ‘I couldn’t help myself. The idea just popped into my head when I went to groom him, and it wouldn’t go away. It was like an itch that had to be scratched,’ Kristy said earnestly.

  ‘An itch?’ Emma repeated faintly.

  ‘But it’s no excuse, I know. I should have ignored the itch. He’s not mine to ride.’

  ‘I don’t understand. You took his tack down to the field?’

  Kristy shook her head. ‘Just his headcollar. It was a spur of the moment thing. I rode him bareback around the field a few times.’

  ‘No riding hat?’

  ‘I had my cycling helmet on. I’m so, so sorry, Emma, and I promise it won’t ever happen again.’

  ‘Too right it won’t.’ Emma exhaled loudly. ‘What if you’d fallen off and hurt yourself? What would I have told your parents? I’m responsible for you while you’re here, Kristy. That’s why I have rules. I don’t make them up for the sheer hell of it.’

  Kristy hung her head in shame. ‘I know, and I totally understand if you want to let me go.’

  Convinced she was about to get the sack, Kristy didn’t take in Emma’s next words at first.

  ‘I said,’ said Emma patiently, ‘if you wanted to ride him so badly you should have just asked.’

  ‘But -’

  ‘Goodness knows he needs the exercise. I’m never going to sell him straight from the field. But if you get him fit I might stand a chance.’

  Kristy gaped at Emma. ‘Do you mean -?’

  ‘Yes, you can ride Cassius. But there are conditions. You must finish your work first. You must take things slowly - he’s very unfit. And you must only ever ride him when I’m here. OK?’

  Kristy flung her arms around her boss. ‘I don’t know what to say! Thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me.’

 

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