by Kate Lattey
“This is going to take hours,” I complained.
“Nobody made you come with me,” he pointed out calmly.
“Not true. Rory insisted on following,” I replied. “Which she is certainly regretting now.”
Rory lowered her head towards her knees, her heavy breathing proving that she was way less fit than she should be at this point in the show season. I leaned down and tried to pick a dandelion flower from the hillside next to me, but it was just beyond my reach.
“You still haven’t told me what to do about my problems,” I reminded Bay as he started tightening the fence wires.
“I’m still not sure what your problem is,” he replied. “Your friend is mad because you talked to the boy she likes?”
“Pretty much. What do I do?”
He shrugged. “Get better friends?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Very helpful, thanks. But friends don’t grow on trees and I suck at making new ones, so I would like to keep the ones I have.”
“Then I can’t help you.”
“Hopeless,” I told Rory, leaning down further, and brushing the top of the flower with my fingertips. Rory shifted her weight slightly, but stayed still. “Why can’t you be a girl, so I could talk to you about this kind of thing?”
“If I was a girl, I’d probably be mad at you for no reason as well,” Bay replied, cutting the end of the wire off and testing the tension on the fence with one hand. “You could always ask Hayley.”
“Hah! Only if I felt like ending up friendless and alone,” I retorted. “She’d tell me the worst possible thing to do in an incredibly convincing way, and then laugh her head off when it completely backfired on me.”
“Well, you’ll always have one friend,” he told me, tightening the strainer and making the wire creak.
I rolled my eyes. “Lucky me.”
Bay shot me a hurt look, and I felt bad, because he was trying to be nice, and his friendship did mean a lot to me. But sometimes talking to him was like talking to a brick wall, and although I was infinitely grateful – especially right now – for the complete lack of drama he brought into my life, I couldn’t imagine us ever having an especially riveting or meaningful conversation. Despite the fact that I still considered him to be my best friend, there was something missing. He listened to me, but my words rolled off him like water off a duck’s back, barely touching his consciousness. Bay was so self-contained that the world seemed to be happening around him, and he was just an idle observer, rather than a participant in the swirling madness. I used to find that reassuring, because I’d felt the same way. But lately I felt as though I was being pulled into the vortex against my will, and instead of helping me find solid ground, he was just standing on the edge, watching me be sucked down into the seething abyss.
Stop being so dramatic, I told myself, wondering where those thoughts were even coming from. In an effort to distract myself, I made one more concerted effort to pick the bobbing yellow dandelion that lurked just beyond my reach. Dangling off the side of my pony, I managed to hook my fingers underneath the flower head, and pull it free of its stem. But right at my moment of victory, Rory objected to my acrobatics by sidestepping away, and I lost my precarious balance, slipping ungracefully onto the ground beneath her feet. My pony turned her head and looked at me as though I’d gone mad.
“You’re right, you know,” Bayard said, and I pushed myself into a sitting position and looked at him.
“About what?”
“Girls are weird.”
Eventually Bayard got the gate strained up to his satisfaction, and once he’d methodically replaced all of the tools into his saddlebags and double-checked the gate hitch that he’d just wired up, presumably in case it had somehow unravelled itself in the ten seconds his back was turned, he remounted Rusty and we headed for home.
As we came down the gully towards the house, I caught a glimpse of Copper through the trees. Instead of grazing sedately, he was being ridden around the jumping paddock, cantering across the grass towards a high vertical.
“She’s going to be in so much trouble,” I muttered, knowing that Hayley was still a couple of weeks away from being allowed to ride again. I was torn between urging Rory on to try and avert a potential crisis, and holding her back in unwilling anticipation of having my head torn off for narking on Hayley again. She’d given me an earful about it last night, refusing to be treated as an invalid and not allowed to ride her own horse, but she’d still played the sick card and skived off school today. Apparently there was a big difference between being able to jump her horse and being able to sit behind a desk. Go figure.
Bayard jogged Rusty up behind me, shading his eyes with his hand. “I don’t think that’s Hayley.”
Just as he said it, I realised that he was right. As Copper cleared the fence, I recognised my sister sitting in the middle of the paddock on an overturned barrel, the sunlight glinting off her golden hair. She must have found someone to ride Copper for her, but from here I couldn’t tell who it was. I urged Rory forward, my curiosity getting the better of me as I craned my neck around the trees that were partially blocking my view.
I realised that it was Jonty in the split second before I saw his face, but my recognition didn’t lessen my surprise. Of all the people that Hayley would let ride her horse, Jonty was the last one I’d have predicted. I sat motionless and watched him ride, completely forgetting to open the gate in front of me until Bayard jogged Rusty up alongside me.
“You gonna open that?”
“What?” I tore my eyes away and realised what he meant. “Oh. Right.”
I leaned down and unlatched the gate with one hand, and Rory backed up as I pulled it towards us. Bay rode through, and I used my leg to pivot Rory around and back her up again a little before bringing the gate back to the post and hooking up the latch. It was a smooth, well-practiced manoeuvre, and I felt proud of myself as I sat up and turned my pony back towards the barn, half an eye still watching Jonty’s progress.
Rory took half a step towards Rusty, then slammed to a halt, and started kicking out with a hind leg. It took me a moment to realise what was wrong. There was a loose wire on the gate netting that had somehow hooked onto my stirrup iron and wasn’t letting go. I pulled my foot out of the stirrup as Rory charged forward, her panic increasing, but the stirrup leather didn’t come free of the saddle like it was supposed to. Before I knew what was happening, Rory had both back legs in the air, bucking desperately in an attempt to free herself. I saw a blur of her shoulder and then the ground rushing up towards me, and I landed heavily on my shoulder. I rolled as soon as I hit the dirt, desperate to stay out of the way of Rory’s flailing hooves as I scrambled to my feet.
“Are you okay?” Bayard grabbed my arm and pulled me backwards, making me stagger as I struggled to keep my footing.
“I’m fine. Let go of me!”
I only had eyes for my pony, who was now in serious trouble. Although she’d finally managed to wrench the stirrup free, during her frenzied bucking she’d kicked one of her hind legs up so high that it had come down on the wrong side of the gate, and she was stuck, her hindquarters straddling the metal bar. She was freaking out, and I had no idea how to help her – only that I had to try.
I wrenched myself free of Bayard’s grip, but Jonty got there first. He must’ve leapt off Copper, who I could see prancing excitedly around the paddock from the corner of my eye, and he was already at Rory’s head, trying to calm her.
“Easy girl.” He took hold of the reins and rubbed her between the eyes, and Rory stopped kicking and thrashing for a moment. She rolled her eyes at me as Jonty reached over and unlatched the gate. “You hold her. Keep her calm.” His eyes went to Bayard. “Give us a hand, will you?”
Startled out of his inaction, Bay went quickly to help. Jonty put a hand on the gatepost and leapt nimbly onto the other side of the fence, then gripped the gate netting and nodded to Bayard as he did the same from my side.
“Ready? One,
two, three, lift!”
The gate was old, and the hinges were loose and worn. Dad had muttered about replacing it a few times, but the loose hinges made it swing easily, so we always dissuaded him because it was such an easy one to open without getting off the ponies. We were lucky that day that despite Rory’s weight being on it, between them the boys were able to lift the gate high enough to get it off the top hinge and tilted onto its side. With a couple more frantic kicks, Rory got herself free.
I led her forward, both of us shaking. Her skin was badly scraped all down the inside of her leg, but she was walking, and the damage appeared to be mostly superficial. I ran my hand down her neck, talking to her in a calm voice that I certainly didn’t feel. I was peripherally aware of the boys hanging the battered gate back up, of Hayley finally catching the excitable Copper, of Rusty standing like a rock with his eyes half-closed, unperturbed by the action.
“Is she okay?”
I looked at Jonty as he came to stand next to me. “I think so. She’s all scraped up, but she’s not limping too badly, so it’s probably just superficial.”
He nodded, putting a reassuring hand on my pony’s shoulder. “Hope so. You better cold hose that and put some iodine on it or something.”
“She’ll be fine, Tess knows how to look after her,” Hayley called before I could say anything. She was dragging Copper towards us, ignoring his rolling eyes. “Are you going to get back on and finish your ride?”
“Keep your hair on,” he told her, then turned back to me. “Demanding, isn’t she?” He flashed me a crooked grin, and I found myself smiling back, despite the fact that I could still feel my hand shaking.
“Is she ever,” I agreed. I was uncomfortably aware of Hayley leaning on the gate and glaring at us, so I nodded to him. “I’ve got this, you can go back to Copper.”
“Sure?”
I nodded, and Jonty gave my shoulder a quick squeeze before walking back towards my sister. He took his time, and I could see Hayley’s irritation with him building. Jonty must’ve seen it too, but it didn’t stop him from stopping halfway and bending down to pick up a sharp stone off the turf.
“Wouldn’t want Copper standing on this,” he told Hayley casually, slipping it into his pocket.
“Quit mucking around and get back on my horse,” she told him, but she was smiling and her posture relaxed as she teased him. “I don’t have all day, you know.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Jonty replied easily, and Hayley held Copper while he swung back up into the tall horse’s saddle. Copper sidled and fidgeted, tossing his head impatiently, and my stomach clenched reflexively, the way it did when I rode him. But Jonty seemed totally unfazed, sliding his foot into the offside stirrup and clicking his tongue to the gelding.
“Come on then, you big sook. Let’s get moving before she tears both of our heads off.”
I watched Jonty ride Copper as I ran the cold hose water over Rory’s leg. She stood quietly with her head down, exhausted now that her adrenalin rush had eased. The cuts had stopped bleeding, and although she’d torn a bit of skin off, there was no serious damage done. I was just glad that Jonty and Bayard had been there. If I’d been alone, I wouldn’t have had a prayer of getting that gate down, and Rory could’ve broken her leg if she’d kept struggling. I shuddered at the thought, and tears prickled the corners of my eyes.
It didn’t happen. Everything worked out okay. She’s fine. You’re fine. I ran the reassurances through my head on a loop, but I couldn’t make myself feel better. I tried to force my thoughts in a different direction, and ended up wondering how Jonty had ended up riding Copper. Had he asked, or had Hayley offered? That seemed unlikely, but the other option also seemed improbable. Hayley had shunned Jonty so many times that I couldn’t quite imagine even someone as pre-possessed as him putting himself in the line of fire, just on the off-chance that she’d accept. And it wasn’t like Copper was much of a treat to ride, although he was probably more of a challenge than Taniwha.
I mulled it over as the cold water trickled down Rory’s leg, and Jonty cantered Copper over the same jumps that Hayley had set up for me and Misty last week. They’d seemed impossibly high and challenging to me at the time, but Copper just cantered smoothly over them as though they were nothing. Jonty was a good rider, too. He had a steady seat, and quiet hands that Copper appreciated. He wasn’t flash, and had a tendency to hunch his shoulders and let his lower leg slide back over the jumps, but my sister’s horse went well for him.
“I didn’t even know he rode.”
I glanced over at Bayard, who was standing behind me with his arms crossed.
“You’ve seen his pony in their paddock,” I reminded him, and he shrugged.
“Yeah, but…I didn’t know he rode like that.”
We both watched as Jonty steered Copper back around the corner, balanced him out of the turn, and jumped him over the big oxer that I’d refused to take Misty anywhere near.
“Neither did I,” I admitted, realising that there were a few things I was only just figuring out about Jonty.
When he was done riding Copper, he came and took a look at Rory’s injuries. My pony didn’t generally like men, but she seemed to realise that Jonty had helped her, and stood unfazed as he slung an arm across her loins and looked carefully at her scraped leg.
“Not too bad then?”
“No, she’ll be okay. Thanks for rescuing her,” I said.
He shrugged. “Yeah, no worries. Glad I was here to help.”
I wanted to ask him exactly how that had happened in the first place, but I was too shy. I opened the tub of clay poultice and scooped out a handful.
“Can you hold her head?” I asked him, but he had a better suggestion.
“How about I hold her other leg up so she can’t kick you?” He made his way around to the other side of my pony, and I noticed that he was walking stiffly.
“Bit out of practice, huh?” I teased him.
He ran his hand down Rory’s leg and picked it up, then braced it against his knee. “Go for your life. And yeah, maybe a bit. Not to worry.”
Rory was still pretty reluctant to let me touch her sore leg. She was always twitchy around that area anyway, being one of those fussy mares who didn’t like anyone invading her privacy, but with Jonty’s help I managed to get the job done.
“It’s for your own good, you know,” I told my pony, who looked at me sceptically.
“She doesn’t believe you,” Jonty grinned as he let her leg down and straightened up with a groan.
“She’ll get over it. I’ll give her some bute tonight, take the edge off it.” I clapped my pony’s neck. “Silly pony. What’d you have to go and do that for?”
“Just creating drama. Typical girl,” Jonty teased, and I narrowed my eyes at him, which only made him laugh harder. “I’d better get going,” he said with a glance up at the lowering sun.
“Okay.”
But he didn’t leave. Instead he just stood there, and we stared at each other for a moment, as if trying to figure one another out. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the farm, tinting the world pink and gold. Rory shifted her weight and nudged me with her nose, and Jonty pushed his hair back off his forehead, and I had a strange feeling that something important was about to change. Like the world was perched on the edge of a precipice that could crumble at any second, sending us all plummeting into the abyss.
Over his shoulder, I saw Hayley come out of the barn and realise that she wasn’t the centre of Jonty’s attention. She immediately started walking with a slight stagger, and Jonty’s head turned as she swayed towards us, then raised a hand to her head. He looked at her with concern, and even though I was pretty sure she was faking it, my heart still pounded in my chest in case she wasn’t. I didn’t know what I would do if she had another seizure. I hadn’t exactly handled it very well the first time.
“I’m feeling a bit woozy,” Hayley said, her eyes fixed on Jonty. “Can you walk with me to the house?”
“Sure.” He put a hand out to steady her as she came level with him, and Hayley somehow managed to manoeuvre his arm around her shoulders. She looped her arm around his waist and then looked back at me.
“You’ll finish Copper off for me, right Tess? I think I need to lie down.”
Now I was sure that she was faking it, and I scowled at her as she sashayed off with Jonty at her side. But there was nothing I could do, so I just drew in a breath through my nose, huffed it out, and went to make Rory’s feed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jonty was still looking a little uncomfortable the next morning when he got on the school bus, limping slightly on his way down the aisle. He saw my eyes on him and grinned, then sat in the empty seat next to me, balancing his school bag on his knees. The bag was old, frayed around the edges and held together with bits of duct tape. I could smell stale cigarettes, and wondered who in his house was a smoker. I hoped it wasn’t him. Not that I cared if it was.
“You’re looking a bit stiff,” I told him, and he grinned at me and shifted his bag further up his lap. I felt my face flush bright red and he laughed.
“Your pony’s fault,” he replied, then pulled one leg of his shorts up a few inches to reveal a big purpling bruise on his thigh.
“Ow! How’d that happen?”
“She kicked me when we were taking the gate down. She didn’t mean to,” he said reassuringly as he smoothed his shorts back into place.
“Sorry. Does it hurt?” Stupid question.