Snippets of her dreams filtered into her consciousness. The same jump had appeared over and over, always with the same consequences. This time she’d seen not only Prince fall but Beau – and he was nowhere near competing at that level – and every other horse and pony she’d ever ridden, one by one.
Steve got out of bed and when Jessica made to follow suit, he said, ‘No, you stay here. I’ll do the horses and then come in and get you breakfast. No arguments.’
Bless him. She smiled as she watched him dress.
‘Right, come on, you lazy gits,’ he said, slapping a hand on his leg as he left the room. ‘We’re not having you peeing in the house.’
Jessica watched the dogs reluctantly get up – complete with groans – and trot after their master. She thought for the umpteenth time how amazing it was that they’d so quickly adapted to life inside, and hadn’t had one mishap on the floor. For farm dogs they made pretty darned good house dogs.
She lay back and closed her eyes, but she was a morning person and now she was wide awake, she was unlikely to get any more sleep, no matter how tired and groggy she felt.
It would be nice to be able to stay here in her jammies and not bother getting up at all. But a part of her knew if she did that, her mind would go over and over the nightmare, making her tense and unhappy and she didn’t want Steve coming back to that. Their relationship was already at risk of changing thanks to her accident and how useless she felt. She sighed, threw back the covers and got up.
She was settled on the couch, engrossed in a story about the merits of age-defying face creams on Sunrise when Steve and the dogs made their noisy entrance. Immediately Laurel and Hardy leapt onto the couch and curled into position, their total confidence making Jessica smile as Steve stood nearby and shook his head in mock consternation.
‘How are the horses?’ she asked.
‘All good. Only another five days weaning them off their mixes and then they’re turfed out, right?’
‘Hmm,’ Jessica said.
‘Jess?’
‘Yep, sounds good.’ During the night, as she’d lain awake, she had pondered keeping their feeds going a while longer. The thought of selling Prince and perhaps even Beau had lodged in her mind and been nagging at her. She knew it really wasn’t wise to make decisions like that when she was tired and emotional. And she was only going to be out of action for six weeks. Only six weeks! The last two days had felt like a month already! Though, really, six weeks was only one farrier visit – nothing in the scheme of things.
She really needed to stop worrying about them, didn’t actually need to do anything about them. But there was a nagging inside her that told her she did have to make some decisions. Perhaps it was just guilt at imposing on Steve. Sure, looking after Prince and Beau would be less onerous without feeds to mix, but he’d still have hay to put out and rugs to change. She didn’t want them looking like unkempt hairy beasts, regardless of what she decided to do.
Perhaps it was something else. The expense? Yes, but something more.
Tiffany would say that unless she got a clear sign of what she was meant to do she should stay the course. Just sit tight.
Or was Sharon Parks showing an interest in buying Prince the sign – that and the fact she was out of action? Jessica gnawed at the inside of her bottom lip.
‘Are you okay?’ Steve asked, putting a mug of coffee and plate of vegemite toast in front of her, startling her slightly.
‘Sorry?’
‘You were miles away.’
‘Hmm.’
He brought a second mug and plate over and sat down on the opposite couch. ‘What’s got you so thoughtful?’
‘Are you okay with doing the horses? Honestly?’
‘Jessica, it’s fine. I’m fine,’ he said. Jessica detected definite lethargy to his words. She didn’t feel any better for his response. Though what did she expect? That he’d be all beaming and crying, ‘I love doing the horses, what are you talking about?’
‘Don’t you go making rash decisions,’ Steve warned, before taking a long sip from his mug. ‘I’ll admit I won’t be getting into horses myself any time soon, but I’m happy to do it, as I’ve said a million times. In sickness and in health, remember?’ He smiled. ‘So stop those cogs turning. Now,’ he went on, changing the subject abruptly, ‘I was serious about you getting some vitamin D while I go and do groceries – unless you’ve changed your mind about coming along?’
‘No, thanks,’ Jessica said, shaking her head. And I’d rather not be out on the verandah as an invitation to anyone driving past, but I will do it if it makes you happy. She was quite astounded at just how antisocial she was feeling.
Jessica, with Steve’s help, soon found herself settled out in the sun on the front verandah with a book and everything else she might need. The gentle breeze made it far too chilly for shorts and a T-shirt but her left track pants leg was rolled up to above her knee and her long sleeves were pushed up to her elbow in the hope of getting a few rays of sunshine. She waved to Steve as he drove away, and continued watching his ute making its way down the driveway.
As he turned out onto the public dirt road and headed towards the highway, she felt a pang of sadness take over her whole body. Loneliness? Surely not; he was only going to be gone a few hours. Or perhaps what she was feeling was a little depressed. Well, she certainly wasn’t feeling ‘up’ so, technically speaking, that would be it.
Oh for goodness’ sake, you have nothing to be depressed about. You have a wonderful life, an adoring husband and good health. A broken leg is just a temporary condition, a minor setback. You’ll be back on the horses and in top form in a matter of months.
She looked over at Prince and Beau grazing in their paddocks. But instead of a fierce longing where she’d picture herself making her way around her arena and practice fences, she felt nothing more than when she gazed upon the cattle or sheep: it was a lovely, calming sight, but nothing more than that. With the sheep and cattle she always felt a certain pride in their condition and of course appreciated their value to the farm’s bottom line. Right now, staring at the horses, she felt nothing more than scant affection.
Was this another sign to give them up? The money would be useful. Steve wanted to add another bull and two rams to their holding soon. And she knew he’d love them to start a family; the money could come in handy if she got pregnant. Babies cost a lot, didn’t they?
She wasn’t feeling at all maternal – had never gooed and gaaed over babies or small children, nor felt the strong desire to have one of her own. But she did think it would be nice to have children to one day take over everything they’d worked hard to achieve. And while she didn’t yet feel that burn of cluckiness she kept hearing other women speak of, she did keep coming across articles online and in magazines warning women not to leave it too late. She was coming up to thirty-one and the practical side of her said it’d be best to do it all before the age when the tests for at risk and older mothers kicked in.
But if she had a baby, she wouldn’t be able to keep up her training and competition schedule, not with a little one in tow. And there were the months of pregnancy before that when she couldn’t or shouldn’t ride. As hard as it would be to part with Prince and Beau, it would be the right thing to do if she and Steve decided to start a family.
She felt a slight sense of panic at the thought of not being in horses any more – the one constant that had been there through every major event in her life and proven such a great source of distraction from any pain. If she was having a grief-stricken day, she only had to get out there on the arena and focus on her dressage moves or do some jumping and she was okay again.
Could she survive without that? Jessica wasn’t sure she could go cold turkey, but it would be a waste to have such well-bred, valuable horses just wandering around in paddocks doing nothing. And surely it wouldn’t be fair on Prince or Beau, either; they both seemed to love to work hard and please her.
She had the fleeting thought that
she could get herself a cheap, quiet old hunter to potter around on after the baby was born – perhaps even join the hunt club that already used their property as part of their run. But deep down she knew she would never be content with anything less than the best and what she was used to. Jessica Harrington née Collins was a horse snob. Nothing wrong with being discerning and having high standards, she told herself.
Fine, some people liked the challenge of taking some scrubber horse without any serious breeding and getting it to do reasonably well in the basics and lower level comps. But that wasn’t Jessica’s thing, nor had it been her father’s. Only the best conformation and breeding had ever done for the Collinses of Collins Park, and while they started from scratch with their horses, they worked hard to get them up through the ranks as quickly as possible. Those who couldn’t hack the pace and crumbled under the pressure were sold on without too many qualms. It was business.
One of Jeff Collins’ mantras had been ‘Sentimentality has no place.’ Which was how Jessica, despite having a lot of affection for Prince and Beau, could even think of parting with them without a rush of heartache or tears.
And while she liked the thought of someone else taking Prince and Beau on to excel while she concentrated on giving Steve the family he wanted, her fierce competitive streak didn’t want to see it or hear about it. And she wasn’t about to let her insecurity stand in the way of what had the potential to be a considerable amount of money; Prince was at a high level and Beau was doing well in his own right. And Jessica had got them there – well, with considerable help from her father before his passing. She could live with that kudos.
Jessica found herself wondering if her few fleeting moments of apprehension in recent competitions were signs she’d had her day. A few times lately, she’d felt the slightest bit of a falter at seeing some of the jumps, though not such a strong feeling that she couldn’t banish it with a shift of focus or stern word. Her father would have been so disappointed in her.
Not that she believed too much in signs – didn’t let herself. If she gave in to that sort of scattered thinking she would look for them everywhere and never stay focussed. It would be like giving in to the fear, and she might as well throw in the towel and waste all the years and money her parents and she had put into chasing her dreams. Her aim had always been to represent her country, hopefully at the Commonwealth or Olympic Games. And while she’d had so many setbacks along the way – horses not making the grade, or being injured or getting sick; eventing was tough on everyone – Prince was finally looking like the one to get her where she wanted to be.
Jessica closed her eyes and tried to picture herself riding cross-country again. It was daylight and she was wide awake, so there was no fear of the drowning nightmare frightening her. In her mind, she rode the course. But as she came around that last bend and imagined herself preparing to approach the water, her heart rate rose significantly. Suddenly she was gasping for air and gripping her chest. The dogs beside her got up and sat to attention, looking up at her. They whined. There was a sharp pain in her chest. She still struggled for air, her breathing too quick and shallow. It can’t be a heart attack. It’s just an anxiety attack. You’re fine. Just breathe. Jessica pulled her jumper up over her face in the hope it would act like a paper bag.
She started to calm down and was soon able to take a few big, gulping breaths. She leant down and began stroking the heads of the worried dogs, slowly and rhythmically. Gradually the pain in her chest dulled and then disappeared, and her heart rate returned to just above normal. She was okay – weary, but okay.
She sat feeling stunned, like when her father had rung to say her mother had died. I’m never going to be able to approach a water jump again, am I? I’m never going to ride cross-country again, because every course has a water jump. Then her mind went completely blank and still. She could hear birds chirping, the quiet whoosh of cars out on the highway, the gentle slap of the dogs’ tails on the timber below them. But other than these observations, she had nothing else going on in her head.
Jessica felt as if she’d been punched in the ribs. She was no longer fighting for breath, but there was an ache, not too dissimilar from when she’d been dumped by her first boyfriend in year eleven. He’d just casually said with a shrug that he liked Mia Stevens more now. Jessica had stood there blinking with the same ache deep within her.
She needed Steve. He always knew how to calm her down, how to make her feel loved. She’d had plenty of boyfriends since Paul Bowman, but Steve had been different from the start, even if it had taken her ages to believe his assurances that he wouldn’t leave her. They’d never sat down and discussed previous relationships at any great length, agreeing that what was important was theirs – the past was done; the present and the future were what warranted thinking about. When it came down to it, what you needed was someone who quietly and calmly supported you – even if they didn’t agree – someone you could safely navigate the choppy waters of life with. Jessica was beginning to see that the tough love approach of her father wasn’t quite all it was cracked up to be. Sure it had toughened her up, but thank goodness she hadn’t married someone like him. She felt safe, taken care of, with Steve. Right now she craved to be wrapped in the arms of her kind, rational, gentle but strong husband and hear him say what she was feeling was normal and that whatever decision she made would be the right one. And that’s what he would say, wasn’t it?
God, everyone will think me a complete wuss, giving up eventing after only one major accident. The Olympians over the years who had got back on and competed with dislocated shoulders and broken bones had really set the bar high. But there it was, the key to it all: they’d got right back on, straight away. Their adrenaline had kept them going and ensured their confidence remained intact.
She could probably build hers up again if she could have had her father by her side. She’d trusted him implicitly and had needed him to drive her beyond where she thought she could go. There was no one out there she trusted that much. Maybe she could try to find herself a new instructor, someone to take her father’s place. But she knew there was no one on earth who’d be willing to push her like he had. And anyway, the cloud of litigation that hung over all instructors these days meant there was always an understanding that they couldn’t bully you into anything. For Jessica to get back to where she had been and over her fear, she’d need that motivation – a lot of it.
If she could block out the pain, could she ride in plaster? Probably, but that might do more harm than good – to Prince, not her. She had him so finely tuned she’d totally muck him up with one leg feeling so different. And the additional weight of the plaster would unbalance her.
She sighed. The best she could do was to pay someone to keep him in work at a reasonable standard, even if the thought of someone else messing with him irked her. And she really didn’t think they could justify the cost. What a bloody mess!
Jessica’s heart pounded slowly but forcefully behind her ribs. I’m done, she thought. She took a deep breath. The horses have to go. A lump rose into her throat and a wash of tears filled her eyes then began spilling; first one at a time and then in a rush, down her cheeks. She leant forwards, put her head in her hands and sobbed.
It was the dogs burrowing under her arms, their wet noses tickling her skin, that finally stemmed her tears and brought her head back up and into the daylight. She couldn’t help smiling weakly at them. She dragged her sleeves down her arms, wiped them across her face and then reassured the dogs she was okay, would be okay.
She looked up at the horses wandering the paddocks, grazing, not a care in the world. She’d miss them, she thought, her throat catching again and a fresh batch of tears gathering, but they wouldn’t miss her – as long as they were fed and well looked after, they would be fine.
When the sun went behind a bank of clouds, highlighting the chill in the air, Jessica went back inside, where she and the dogs settled onto the couch. She turned on the television, more for its
soothing presence than anything else. With a heavy heart she picked up her latest Horse Deals magazine to start trying to get a good idea of what price to put on her horses.
Chapter Nine
Jessica was dozing with the Horse Deals magazine and a notepad and pen on her lap when Steve arrived home, the sound of the front door banging shut startling her slightly.
‘Hi,’ Jessica called.
‘Hi,’ he replied, looking a little flustered, ‘Sorry I took so long. I’ll just get everything unloaded.’
After making a number of trips back and forth between the ute and the kitchen, dumping green eco-shopping bags, he kissed Jessica hello. ‘Sorry, took a lot longer than I thought it would. But I do come bearing gifts – well a loan, actually,’ he said, producing a handful of DVDs. ‘From the library,’ he explained, handing them to her.
‘Thanks.’
‘Hey, what’s this?’ he asked, nodding at her lap where the pad of paper was sitting on the closed magazine. He seemed perplexed. ‘You looking at buying another horse?’ He was used to seeing her flick through the magazine each month, but not post-its poking out from pages, and certainly not a pad bearing notes and figures.
‘No, selling two,’ Jessica said quietly, and continued examining the DVDs, pretending to read the blurbs. Part of her hoped Steve hadn’t heard her. Saying it out loud caused a lead weight to drop in the pit of her stomach. It was the right decision. She knew it was. But that didn’t make it any easier.
Steve sat down on the couch opposite. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’m never going to be able to ride cross-country again.’
‘That’s being a bit melodramatic, isn’t it? It’s only a fractured ankle.’
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