Cross My Heart

by Pamela Cook

  Grace’s expression was completely blank. Mitch rested his elbows on his knees and locked his hands together. Mirroring Grace. ‘We know you’ve had a really hard time lately, Grace, losing your mum, being taken to the city.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘Getting used to all those changes mustn’t have been easy for you. We,’ he gestured to the other two adults sitting in the circle, ‘Tess and Max and I, we thought doing some work with the horses here might help you. It won’t fix everything, but it might make you feel better. Would you like to give it a try?’

  A whinny from the paddock outside sounded right on cue. Grace glanced in its direction, before her attention returned to the shredded denim in the knee of her jeans. She picked at a loose white thread. Was she debating? Working through the pros and cons in her head? Or was she just unsure how to say no.

  ‘You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Grace.’ The words jumped out of Tess’s mouth almost of their own volition.

  Mitch failed to hide his frown.

  ‘No, of course you don’t.’ Max shifted a little closer, the legs of her plastic chair scraping on the rough cement. ‘It’s completely up to you. But just so you know, the session doesn’t involve a lot of talking, it’s all about you hanging out with the horses, spending time with them, and whatever happens, happens. We’ll only talk a bit to start off and then it’s you and whichever horse you choose.’

  Grace lifted her chin. The spotty horse was standing, head drooping over the fence, peering in their direction as if it was eavesdropping. Tess kept her eyes glued on Grace, completely torn. If she said no they could be out of here in a flash and the knot inside her own chest could unravel, but if doing this could actually help, then her own anxiety was a small price to pay.

  ‘Okay.’ It was a quietly spoken assent, but an assent nonetheless.

  ‘Great. Let’s get started, then. To begin with, we’re just going to let you get used to the horses.’ Mitch tilted his head towards the paddock. ‘You ready?’

  Grace hopped up and walked along beside him.

  Max indicated a couple of seats in the fenced area. ‘We can watch from over here.’

  ‘You don’t go in with them?’ Sending Grace off with a man she barely knew didn’t feel right, but then again, Tess would be watching. Eyes open. In broad daylight.

  ‘It can be a bit intimidating for the client if there are two of us in there. Besides, I’m still learning. Mitch is the expert.’

  The sunlight was blinding after the shadows of the stable. Tess rolled her sunnies from the top of her head to cover her eyes and sat beside Max, watching through the railing. The three horses they’d seen on their way in were standing separately, seemingly indifferent to each other. When Grace and Mitch entered the paddock the animals raised their heads, eyeing the two humans. Mitch crouched down and spoke to Grace, but it was too far away to hear what he was saying.

  ‘So, how does this work again?’ The brief bits of theory she’d read on the website combined with Mitch’s intro still didn’t really explain how a horse was going to help Grace process her emotions.

  ‘Watch and you’ll see.’

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, crossed her arms and settled into her seat.

  Brush in hand, Grace walked over to the first horse, stopping a short distance away and pausing, not looking directly at them. The chestnut flicked an ear and gave a brief swish of its tail before dropping its head to the ground and sniffing at a leaf tumbling across the arena. It made no move towards Grace, and after a few minutes she moved on to the second horse, the spotted one. This one turned its head and fixed one blue eye on Grace, who reciprocated before looking away. Odd, but probably what Mitch had instructed her to do. Tess glanced across to gauge his reaction to no avail; it was hard to read, other than focused. The spotted horse shuffled slightly and let out a sigh, its tongue lolling out of its mouth. Grace lifted her hand and touched the horse’s flank, resting it there before giving one gentle stroke. A smile flared before she dropped her hand and walked on, approaching the third horse, the black Friesian.

  Tess shuddered. Her whole body tensed. The animal was positively enormous. If it bolted or kicked it could do some serious damage. She gripped Max’s arm. ‘Is this really safe?’

  ‘Watch.’

  Her cuticles were already ragged and gnawing on your fingers wasn’t exactly an attractive habit, but the temptation to bite them was overwhelming. She stiffened her knuckles and pushed them down by her sides. This process was supposed to be about trust—trusting the horses, trusting the ‘practitioners’—so she was just going to have to wait it out and see what happened.

  Grace, apparently unfazed, maintained her stance. The horse’s eyes were as dark as his coat, making it hard to see exactly where he was looking. He shuffled slightly from foot to foot before settling back into the same spot, one back leg slightly bent. Then something else started to happen. The spotted horse, the mare, made its way over, stopped and poked its head across the Grace’s shoulder, nuzzling her cheek. Grace giggled. She lifted a hand to the horse’s face and gave it a gentle scratch.

  ‘She likes you,’ Mitch called. ‘Try going for a walk and see what happens.’

  Grace dropped her hand and walked purposefully down the arena away from the two horses. The larger one stayed put, nudging the air with his nose, but the mare began to follow, always a few steps behind. Tess sat up straighter as the horse mimicked Grace’s movements, tracing the weaving pattern she made as she walked along. Without warning, Grace broke into a jog and the horse started to trot, still keeping its distance.

  ‘Wow.’ This was amazing! Grace was laughing, loving every minute.

  ‘Told you.’ Max grinned. ‘That’s just for starters.’

  The horse pulled up behind Grace at the far end of the arena. Mitch, hands in pockets, wandered down and stood a metre away to give the next set of directions. His voice was soft, reassuring.

  ‘Looks like Whisky has chosen you. Are you okay with that?’

  Grace gave an enthusiastic nod.

  ‘Great. So now you can spend a bit of time getting to know each other. Groom her a little, talk to her, see if she wants to go for another walk. Whatever feels right. If you need anything I’ll be right over there.’ He pointed to the spot on the fence he’d just vacated.

  Mitch gave a cheeky wriggle of his eyebrows as he looked across to Tess. The look on his face was pure satisfaction. And maybe a little bit smug.

  ‘So does Mitch actually do anything else to facilitate?’ So far so good, but there had to be more to this than brushing a horse and walking it around.

  ‘Some discussion at the end of the session. His main job is observation, watching the way the horses respond, and then interpreting what’s happening.’ Max considered what she’d said. ‘Or rather, guiding the client to interpret what’s happened.’

  ‘But Grace is only ten. I don’t think she’s going to have much idea about what’s occurring.’

  ‘Don’t you? She looks pretty cosy out there to me. She might have more to say about it than you think.’

  Grace was running the brush down the length of the horse’s back, tracing the path with her other hand and, hang on … was she singing?

  ‘She might not understand the technicalities, but she’ll know what she felt at each step of the way. That’s what Mitch will talk to her about afterwards. We also like to get people to journal about their experience. If they choose.’

  This whole thing was mind-boggling. Her own experience with animals was minimal. Her family had never even had a dog. Beth had been bitten by one as a child and never recovered, and only acquired the cat after Tess had moved out. And after that one disastrous trail ride Tess had sworn never to sit in a saddle again. Using them as four-legged counsellors was a fascinating concept, yet also totally bewildering. ‘I know you said to watch and learn, but there are some things I’d like explained.’

  ‘Shoot.’

  ‘Why did Mitch get her to walk around l
ike that at the start? Why not just pick a horse and get on with it?’

  ‘Horses are prey animals, so they’re wired to sense danger, notice what’s in their environment, respond and react. If they see, or sense, something—or someone—as a threat, they’ll respond by running. They also live in herds for protection, so they’re highly attuned to what’s happening with their herd mates. They can read behaviour, and intentions.’ She pointed towards the horse being happily groomed. ‘Whisky recognises something in Grace—a need, an emotion, it’s hard to explain exactly what—but she feels some connection to her for whatever reason. And judging by Grace’s response, it’s mutual.’

  Tess shook her head and let out a deep breath. ‘So what happens next?’

  ‘It’s up to Grace. If she decides she wants to come back, we’ll continue to build on the start she’s made today. It usually takes a few sessions to make real progress.’

  That made sense. It was early days, but if the smile on Grace’s face was anything to go by, they were off and running. Probably better to reserve judgement, though, until she saw the actual results.

  Once the grooming session was over, Grace wandered back to where Mitch was waiting, Whisky walking easily by her side. At the gate Grace leaned over and kissed the horse’s face, whispered something into her ear and then followed Mitch back to the stable block. In a couple of minutes the pair of them came outside, Grace holding a small black book to her chest.

  ‘Grace did brilliantly today. I’ve given her one of our journals to take home. She can jot down anything she likes about her time with Whisky along with any questions or things she wants to raise next time.’ Mitch bent down and spoke directly to Grace. ‘If you want to come back.’

  Her eyes round and hopeful, Grace gave an emphatic nod.

  ‘Great.’ He turned to Tess and gave her a wink. ‘Well, we’re here whenever you want to book in next.’

  Tess tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and waited for the inevitable flutter inside her stomach to settle. They were in this now. She would have to commit. ‘Right. Um, how long should we leave between sessions?’

  Max had vanished and Mitch was now doing all the talking. He shrugged. ‘That’s up to you. And Grace. Some people come once a week, others twice, whatever works best for the both of you.’

  Grace bounced up and down on her toes, like a ballerina breaking in her pointe shoes. ‘Can we come again soon?’ She had that pleading look aced.

  ‘How about Friday? That’s in two days’ time.’

  Grace nodded.

  ‘If that’s okay for you, Mitch?’

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped at the screen. ‘Yeah, sure. It’s Toby’s birthday. We’re planning a barbeque, so if you two wanted to come for the session in the afternoon and stay for dinner, I’m sure the birthday boy would love it.’

  ‘Oh no, we wouldn’t want to intrude.’ Mixing business with pleasure was always a bad idea.

  ‘No intrusion. Toby would love the company.’

  ‘Please?’

  Grace was looking at her so intently. How could she possibly say no? ‘Okay, see you on Friday.’

  Grace skipped all the way back to the car. She’d been excited to come back but was even more upbeat now. Tess climbed in beside her and started the engine. All in all the day could only be called a success, and yet there was still something not quite right, some abrasive feeling, like a massive splinter wedged somewhere down deep inside. Even as Grace yabbered on about Whisky on the drive home, even as Tess nodded and smiled back in all the right places, it pricked at her gut, stuck and festering. Refusing to worm its way out.

  Nineteen

  Dusk. For years, the fading of day into night had always made Tess’s heart beat slightly faster, her breathing a little shallower, filling her with an urgency to get home, lock the door and turn on all the lights. But that was in the city, a whole other lifetime ago. Out here, the end of a day was something entirely different: a melting away of light, a gradual transformation from one state of being to another, calming the rush of blood through her veins. At Affinity it was even more beautiful. Marshmallow-pink clouds streaked wide across a lilac sky. Black birds silhouetted against the luminous horizon. A gentle quiet, tranquil as a lullaby. The cool evening breeze caressed her cheek as the horses, back out in the paddock, worked their way through their feed bins. She shook her head. Where had all this poetic daydreaming come from? And could the real Tessa De Santis please stand up?

  Grace was nowhere to be seen. No doubt she was off with Toby somewhere, probably checking out his birthday stash. Today’s session with Whisky had been much the same as last time, but with a few additional tasks. An obstacle course, through which Grace manoeuvred the mare with only a little help from Mitch and a good fifteen minutes where the horse once again stood completely still while being groomed from top to tail. Who would have thought that brushing a horse could be so meditative? Grace’s mood had definitely picked up over the last two days, so who was Tess to argue?

  ‘Today went well.’ Max appeared at her side and held out a tumbler of white wine.

  ‘Oh, thanks.’ The glass was cold against Tess’s palm. ‘Yes, it did. She seemed to enjoy it.’

  ‘Has she said much over the last couple of days?’

  ‘No.’ Despite Grace’s euphoria after her first session on Wednesday, she’d remained mostly mute at home even though she seemed happier. Tess looked out across the lush carpet of grass to the grey mist settling in the distance. ‘She didn’t say much at all. Raved about Whisky in the car on the way home and then nothing.’

  ‘But she wanted to come back, so that’s a good sign.’

  Max was a classic example of someone who always looked for the positive. ‘I guess so.’ Although there was a strong chance that seeing Toby was the reason. The two of them were as thick as thieves. Which was surprising, given the minimal contact Grace must have had with other kids. But then who knew what was going on in the girl’s head? Tess downed another mouthful of wine. If anyone could help in the parenting stakes, it was Max. ‘So, Mitch told me you’ve been a single mum for a while now.’

  ‘Yeah, like from the time Tobes was born.’

  ‘Is it hard? Doing it on your own?’

  Max faced her, staring with eyes that were something like her brother’s but not quite as intense. ‘Are you asking for a friend?’ She gave a narrow-eyed grin.

  Ouch. So much for being subtle.

  ‘It’s been tough at times.’ The kids were back outside, doing cartwheels on the other side of the yard, and both women turned to watch them as Max spoke. ‘Especially when he was a baby and I didn’t have a bloody clue what I was doing. Mum was sick. If it wasn’t for Mitch I’m not sure what I would have done. He stepped up, pretty much became a surrogate father.’ She reached across and tapped Tess’s wedding band. ‘I didn’t think you were doing this on your own.’

  The ring was a constant reminder of what she stood to lose. What she may have already lost. ‘I didn’t either.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Grace.’

  Max’s eyebrows arched. ‘Really?’

  She nodded, even though that wasn’t strictly true. Grace’s appearance in their lives had only widened the already existing gulf between Josh and her. Trying not to think about the situation was easy in his absence, but sooner or later it would have to be confronted. ‘He doesn’t want kids.’ She sighed. ‘And he certainly doesn’t want somebody else’s.’

  ‘So he’s back in Sydney?’

  Now there was a question. He hadn’t checked in for the last couple of days. She waved a hand, tried to sound nonchalant. ‘He’s overseas for work. In Brussels.’ Or somewhere in Europe. Possibly on a plane heading back home.

  ‘He might come around.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She squinted into the dying light. ‘Anyway … is it hard, raising a kid on your own? Just asking for a friend.’

  Max let out a belly laugh. ‘Yes, it is. But it’s also the be
st thing I’ve ever done. And if you can muster a little help from your family and friends you—and Grace—are going to be fine.’

  ‘Mum, Mum.’ Toby came tearing across the yard, Grace hot on his heels as a car cruised up the driveway and pulled to a stop. ‘Sanjay is here.’

  Max deposited her glass on the table. ‘Won’t be a minute. Toby’s friend from school is coming for a sleepover. And his parents are joining us for dinner.’ She headed over to greet her visitors.

  Tess whistled out a lungful of air. It was a relief to have a few minutes to collect herself. So far she’d managed to avoid talking about Josh to anyone—apart from the one mention she’d made of him to Jules—and, in her usual style, she’d pretty much blocked him from her mind since coming to Weerilla. Time was ticking on. Five weeks had passed since she’d been notified about Grace and they still hadn’t sorted themselves out. Sometime soon that conversation was going to have to happen.

  She wriggled her shoulders and rubbed the knots from her neck. Over by the house, Grace was hovering behind Toby and two dark-haired boys, the taller one holding a large gift-wrapped box. The smaller one looked up at Grace, pointing to her face. Tess watched as she lifted her palm and pressed it against her cheek, said something Tess couldn’t hear. If that kid was teasing Grace about her birthmark, he was going to find himself in big trouble. Grace shrugged and the boy smiled, and then the four of them ran up the steps and into the house in a riot of shouts and laughter. Just like normal kids.

  Had Grace ever been a normal kid? From what Jules had said she’d always been quiet, too cosseted by Skye, too isolated from children of her own age. Now she had so much more to deal with than any child should have to manage. Yet watching her here, mixing with the others as if it was an everyday occurrence, it was almost possible to believe that she was just like any other ten-year-old.

  Max returned, along with a striking woman wrapped in a turquoise pashmina and a bright-faced, bespectacled man in casual jeans and sweatshirt.

  ‘Tess, this is Leela and Raj. Their son is Toby’s bestie. When he’s not here driving me nuts, he’s at their place.’