Hopes

by Linda Chapman

  She felt as if she had reached the very end of her strength; she was exhausted. Seeing a gray rock, she sat down on it and buried her head in her hands. I can’t do this any more, she thought helplessly. I just can’t go on.

  Tears seeped through her fingers, hot against her damp, cold skin and she started to sob.

  She didn’t know how long she had been crying, but suddenly through her despair she felt the air around her change. There was the sound of a hoof hitting a stone. She froze and then glanced up. Was it Gem? No, deep down she knew with an absolute certainty that it wasn’t. She knew that feeling in the air but it couldn’t be…

  A whinny rang out.

  Ellie felt as if every cell in her body had just been given an electric shock. She would know that whinny anywhere. She couldn’t breathe. Even her heart seemed to have stopped beating.

  A gray horse appeared through the mist. Stopping beside her, he gently nuzzled her hands.

  Chapter Eleven

  “SPIRIT?”

  The word choked out of Ellie. Suddenly she couldn’t feel the rain or cold any more. Her whole being was focused on the horse’s warm breath whispering across her fingers, the sight of his dark eyes, his forelock falling across his face. “How…” Ellie’s voice faltered as she stared at him. How?

  I have come back.

  But…

  You can go on. I am here.

  So many questions whirled through Ellie’s brain and for a moment she was reminded of another time—when Spirit had first spoken to her. Like this, it had seemed impossible, but, just as she had then, she gave in to the impossible. Whether it was a dream or hallucination, whether it was real or not, at that moment she didn’t care. She just wanted so much for it to be true.

  Reaching up, she touched his warm neck. The next second she was on her feet hugging him, burying her head in his mane, shaking and sobbing, but this time with happiness and relief. Her grief rolled away. Spirit was here now, with her.

  I’ve missed you so much. Oh, Spirit. I couldn’t bear it.

  You have to. You have to carry on.

  But I can’t live without you.

  Then I will be here. I will stay.

  Like this?

  Yes, for as long as you need me.

  You’re a ghost?

  I am Spirit.

  Ellie looked at him wonderingly, realizing she didn’t care if he was a ghost or not; the important thing was that he’d come back to her, that they could talk again.

  You must keep going, he told her. Help other horses.

  Ellie thought about the foal and guilt washed over her.

  Spirit read her thoughts. She has a part to play in your life. Go to her and help her—for her sake, for your own.

  Ellie didn’t know what he meant but she knew she must do as he said. But as she looked around, she remembered the reality of her situation. I don’t know how to get home.

  I will show you.

  Spirit began to lead her down the mountain, his hooves finding a safe pathway, his eyes seeing through the mist.

  When they reached the woods, she was able to see him more clearly. He looked healthy again. Even the old scars on his legs and shoulders had healed. His eyes were glowing and he seemed young and strong. She couldn’t stop looking at him. Their gazes met and she felt the numbness that had been wrapped around her heart, since the day he died, melt. As they reached the edge of the wood, Spirit stopped.

  Go on without me now. But do not worry. I will be near you. Always now.

  Ellie’s fingers clenched for a moment on his mane.

  Have faith.

  She released her grip and watched him fade away. But shutting her eyes, she could still feel his presence, feel his energy swirling around her. He was there. Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the woods.

  The rain had stopped, and as she walked up the driveway, she heard a yell. Luke had spotted her from the stable yard. He came running to meet her. His face was pale, his eyes shot through with worry, and all trace of his usual amused expression had vanished from his face.

  “Ellie! Christ! I was so worried! Gem came back half an hour ago on his own. I went out looking in the woods but couldn’t find you. I’ve been worried sick.”

  He reached her and grabbed her in his arms. She felt herself pulled against his chest. “I’m OK,” she said dazedly.

  “You’re soaked through!” Luke looked at her wet clothes. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “On the mountainside. Is Gem all right?”

  “Yeah, a few scratches and his reins are broken but otherwise he’s fine. What were you doing on the mountainside?”

  “I went up there and fell off. I tried to find my way down, but it was misty and I got lost.”

  Luke hugged her again. All Ellie could think about was Spirit. He was back. She remembered the promise she’d made to him and pulled out of Luke’s arms. “The foal. I want to go and see her.” She started hurrying past him.

  “The foal?” Luke caught up with her in a few strides. “You can’t go and see her now. You’ve just been lost in the rain, you need to get changed, sit down—”

  “I’ll get changed, but I won’t sit down. I’m going to see her.”

  Luke shook his head incredulously, but put his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I give up with you. Whatever. Just get some dry clothes on first.”

  Five minutes later, Ellie was changed and back on the yard. Luke had dried Gem off and he was out in the field, no worse for his adventure. Luke watched her as she went to the filly’s stable.

  “Leave me alone with her,” she told him.

  He nodded, still looking anxious. She had the feeling he thought she was on the edge of going slightly mad, but Ellie had never felt more sane in her life. All her numbness and weariness had vanished. She didn’t know if she could help the foal but she was going to try.

  The foal stood in a corner of the stable. Her head was low, her ribs protruding, her chestnut coat looked coarse, and her eyes were dull. For a moment, Ellie was painfully reminded of Spirit when he had been ill. The foal was so young that even a few days without anything to eat had left her looking half starved. But Ellie sensed something beyond the foal being physically weak, something that she had never felt with Spirit—a sense that the foal had given up.

  Ellie felt her heart going out to the little filly. She knew that feeling. She had been engulfed by it for the past two weeks. But Spirit had come to her in her hour of need, and thinking about him sent determination flooding through her. If there was any way she could help the foal, she would.

  She walked over. Despite her weakness, the foal moved warily backwards. “It’s OK,” Ellie soothed, holding her hand out. The filly moved further into the corner, staring at her with deep distrust.

  Ellie remembered what Spirit had taught her—sometimes you just had to wait with horses. You could never force them to talk, just be there, open yourself and wait. She stepped back and sat down on some clean straw near the manger.

  The minutes ticked past. Gradually the foal began to relax. Ellie shut her eyes and focused on her breathing, clearing her mind of everything but the foal.

  It’s OK, she thought. I’m not going to hurt you. You can talk to me.

  Keeping her eyes shut, she focused on where the foal was, felt her energy, weak and fading. Compassion welled up inside her and gathering up all her own energy she let it flow to the foal.

  I’m listening. If you want to, we can talk.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there, but slowly she felt the familiar sensation of their minds merging. The foal’s thoughts were clear—as clear as Spirit’s were to her. An image of a chestnut mare came into her mind. It was Fern. Ellie could feel the foal’s aching sense of loss and confusion. Where has she gone?

  She’s died, Ellie thought back.

  Died? The filly didn’t seem to understand.

  Gone.

  Forever?

  Yes, forever. Ellie sent all the love she
could to the little filly. She had been through so much, moving from her first home when she was so young and then having her mother taken away. Standing up, Ellie went over. The filly stayed where she was this time. Ellie touched her neck. “There now,” she murmured.

  The filly trembled. She felt so fragile; her bones sticking out under her tightly stretched skin. Ellie began to move her hands around her body, starting at her neck and working her way very gently over her just as she used to do with Spirit.

  She could feel the foal’s intense loss as if it was her own. It was a loss that hurt like a physical pain, a pain that overwhelmed any desire to eat or drink.

  Ellie’s heart went out to the filly. She was just a baby. You don’t have to carry this, she told her gently. Let me take your pain.

  Very gradually, she felt the foal’s energy readjust and her breathing began to slow. Her eyelids fluttered and her head dropped down. Ellie moved to her face, touching her forehead. The foal’s legs trembled. With a sigh, she let the worst of the grief go and sank down into the straw. Ellie knelt beside her and stroked her head.

  There, you’re safe now. She felt an absolute desire to love and protect the foal. To look after her.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there, but eventually she felt the connection between their minds close as the exhausted foal finally fell asleep, her muzzle resting on Ellie’s knees. Ellie gently kissed her forehead. The tingling in her fingers faded. She blinked. It felt as if they had been lost in another world for a while. Now, she looked around at the stable, seeing the details—the strands of straw in the bed, the dust in the shafts of light, the black water bucket.

  There was a noise at the door. Ellie turned. It was Luke. “How’s it going?” He saw the foal lying with her. “You’ve got close to her anyway.”

  Ellie nodded.

  “Do you need anything?” he asked.

  “Could you bring me some fresh milk and feed for her?”

  Luke returned five minutes later with a bucket of milk that was made for orphaned foals and some foal mix in a bucket. The sound of the door opening woke the foal. Her head lifted and she looked around, her eyes slightly dazed. Ellie immediately soothed her. “It’s OK.”

  “Shall I stay?” Luke said.

  Ellie shook her head. “No.” She wanted to be alone with the foal for longer. She needed to get her to drink.

  He left and Ellie offered the milk to the foal. Putting her fingers into it, she held them up. The foal sniffed her fingers and licked some milk off them. Ellie offered her some more, each time lowering her hand until it was in the warm milk for longer. The foal sought for her fingers, her muzzle going into the milk too, and then to Ellie’s delight she started to suck up the milk herself. Ellie stroked her neck and listened to the rhythmical noises as the foal drained the bucket. She licked the remaining milk from the bottom and then gave a long, contented sigh.

  Ellie could feel the change in her now. It was as though the pall of sadness that had been lying over her had lifted. She started to feed her from the other bucket, and soon the foal was nuzzling up the grain from Ellie’s hands.

  Outside, Ellie could hear the bustling sounds of the yard, but inside the stable it was peaceful. She wanted to look after the foal, and help her get used to life without her mother.

  “I’ll be here for you,” she vowed. “Your mom might not be, but I’ll do everything I can.” She stroked her again and, as she did so, felt a warm breath on her shoulder. She froze.

  Spirit?

  Yes, I am here.

  Ellie looked around, but the stable was empty.

  Shut your eyes and you will see me.

  Closing her eyes, Ellie reached out for him, and suddenly she could see him standing there beside her. She reached up and he touched her hand with his muzzle. She felt the softness of the skin, felt his lips rub across her palm, and then he breathed on her hair.

  Ellie felt a rush of joy. He was back again. He really was there.

  You’ve helped her. She felt his contentment.

  I don’t know what I did. I just talked to her and touched her. She seemed to like it.

  You have healing hands.

  Ellie swallowed. They didn’t heal you.

  Nothing could have helped me, but you can help others.

  For a moment, Ellie was too overwhelmed to say anything.

  Use your gifts well.

  I will, she promised.

  A picture came into her mind and she saw the filly in the field with Gem.

  You think I should turn them out together? she asked him.

  Yes. They will be good for each other. They both need you, but they need each other too.

  Ellie realized he was right. The foal needed the company of another horse now her mother was gone and Gem was missing Spirit. He adored the filly and he was so gentle he would never hurt her.

  When she wakes up, feed her again and then turn them out.

  Ellie nodded.

  For a while, neither of them said any more. The foal had fallen asleep again, seemingly oblivious to Spirit. Ellie simply sat with the foal’s head resting on her knees, Spirit’s presence beside her. A feeling of contentment sank over her, taking away any desire to do anything. She wanted to freeze time, hold the moment forever. After all the grief and all the bleakness, she was happy again. Spirit had come back to her and this time he would never go away.

  She sighed and finally fell asleep herself. Standing quietly beside her, the gray ghost watched over her and the little foal.

  “Ellie?”

  At the sound of Luke’s voice, Ellie blinked her eyes open and sat up, wondering where she was. She realized she was in the stable; the filly was stirring beside her, Luke was at the door…

  She glanced around quickly. Spirit had left. But he would come back. She knew that with a certainty that ran through every bone in her body.

  Luke came into the stable. “Are you OK? You’ve been in here ages. It’s almost feedtime.”

  “I… I fell asleep.”

  Luke crouched down. “I guess you needed it. You got the foal to drink then?”

  The filly nuzzled Ellie. Her eyes were brighter now, refreshed. Putting her head into the bucket, she licked the bottom and then nudged Ellie hard.

  “I think she wants some more,” Ellie smiled.

  “I’ll get it,” Luke offered.

  As he left the stable, Ellie stood up. She busied herself with the foal, patting and stroking her, dusting the straw off her. Even without being connected to her, Ellie could feel the new lightness around the filly.

  Luke returned. Ellie took the bucket from him. “Here you are.” This time, the foal didn’t need any encouragement; she plunged her head in. Ellie and Luke watched her drink, her fluffy tail swishing from side to side.

  “You know, we can’t keep calling her ‘the foal,’” Ellie said.

  “No, we need a name for her,” Luke agreed. “You’d better think of something.”

  Ellie glanced at him. It was hard to believe it was only that morning she had shouted at him and galloped off on Gem. She thought of the things she had said to him. Guilt flashed through her as she remembered how he had been there for her in the last few weeks. How he had always been the one who cared enough to tell her what she didn’t want to hear. How he had been there to pick up the pieces and help her through. She hadn’t been fair.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” she said.

  Luke shot her a sideways look. “For galloping off or for yelling at me?”

  “Both.”

  He smiled wryly. “Guess I asked for it.”

  But Ellie didn’t want to be let off the hook. “You didn’t. You were just trying to make me listen. I am sorry. You’re not selfish. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He looked at her. Part of her suddenly wanted to shut up, say nothing more, but she also wanted him to know how grateful she was. He deserved that. “Thank you,” she went on doggedly. “I mean it. Thank you for everything you’ve done. For
being there when Spirit died. For digging the grave. For sorting stuff out afterwards. For telling me it was time when it was.”

  Luke regarded her for a moment and then smiled. “’S OK.” He put his arm over her shoulders and turned back to watch the foal.

  Ellie could feel the weight of his arm, the warmth of his body next to hers. It felt strange being so close to him in such a relaxed way. She was used to hugging Joe like this but not Luke. She wondered what Joe would say when he heard about the day. For the first time in a week, she found herself wanting to speak to him, to tell him about things.

  “So, what did you do?” Luke asked, looking at the foal. “How did you get her to drink?”

  “I just talked to her.”

  Luke gave a short laugh. “I should’ve known! Horse-whisperer!” He pulled her in tighter and for a second all she could think about was the feeling of his arm around her shoulders. She tried to focus on the foal.

  “I think she should be turned out with Gem. He’s missing Spirit and she needs company,” Ellie said, her voice slightly breathless.

  Luke frowned. “With Gem? Put a gelding and a foal together?”

  “It’ll be fine,” Ellie promised, trusting Spirit’s advice completely. “I know it will.”

  Luke looked down at her. “You’re incredible. Do you know that?” Ellie felt her cheeks warming as his gaze swept intently over her face. “Maddening—yes. Infuriating—yes. But you’re like no one I’ve ever met before.”

  Staring up at him, all Ellie could think about was his eyes, his face, the way he was looking at her. This is LUKE! a voice screamed in her head.

  With a supreme effort, she forced herself to step back. His arm dropped from her shoulders, his face assuming its usual amused expression.

  “I… I think I’ll fetch Gem and turn them out,” Ellie stammered.

  Luke raised his eyebrows. “You’d better see if he’s forgiven you for that gallop up the mountain yet. Poor Gem!”