‘So just a brick of meadow hay, or should I give her something else as well?’ Steve asked.
‘No, just the hay. And leave her out of the stable and just in the day yards in case she freaks out.’ It made sense – the day yards were more secure and Jessica didn’t want her stables destroyed if the horse got a fright or went crazy when the drugs wore off and it was inside and not used to such confinement. The horse might never have been inside. Though it had clearly coped okay with being in the float.
Jessica did think the horse looked drugged from what she could see; its eyes were far from alert. But that could be resignation to being in a new place with an unknown fate or simply severe malnutrition.
‘No, I’ll open the stable door – she can have the run of both. It’s going to be chilly tonight.’
Jessica fumed at being overridden about something to do with horses. She’d had a lifetime of experience. She almost pointed out that the horse was clearly quite used to being outside.
‘Should I put a rug on her – there’d be one to fit, wouldn’t there?’
‘I think you should just leave it in peace and wait until we see what it’s like before mucking around with it too much. It might never have had a rug on and you don’t want to terrify it. Let it settle in first.’ While she was appearing supportive – well, she hoped so – what she was really hoping was that by morning Steve would have come to his senses and had agreed to fatten the creature up and on-sell it.
Jessica watched while Steve gave the horse the same amount of hay she would have given it, filled the water tub up, and stood rubbing the chestnut’s mud-caked neck for a few minutes. She refused to acknowledge the jealousy and annoyance that swept through her. But she did admit to feeling quite unsettled by the horse. Who could have let it get into such a state?
She thought of Prince and Beau and how she’d just cast them aside. To ease the guilt threatening to overwhelm her, she moved to where Laurel and Hardy were still on the ute, gave them each a pat, and unclipped their chains.
‘Now, go quietly,’ she warned them. They seemed to understand, because they silently hopped down and trotted closer to the yards to check out the newcomer. Jessica knew it was ridiculous, but she felt ganged up on, an outsider. Yet she didn’t want to join Steve with the horse because she might just get drawn into its vortex too. Someone had to keep a level head. So, instead, she made her way slowly back to the house.
‘Leave it in peace,’ she called to Steve at the door.
*
Later, Jessica tried to tune out her annoyance at Steve overstepping the clearly defined roles in their marriage and concentrate on CSI on the TV. But Steve was like a jack-in-the-box, leaping up to go out and check on the horse every few minutes. After the third time in the first hour, Jessica snapped at him to sit still; she was trying to follow the clues of the show and wanted to watch in peace.
‘And,’ she added, softening at his crestfallen expression, ‘how would you feel if every time you felt relaxed, someone you were afraid of poked their head around the corner, startling you?’
‘I don’t think she’s afraid of me,’ Steve said. ‘How could she be when I’m the one who rescued her? She knows and understands.’
‘Well, wary then,’ she conceded. ‘And for all we know it was drugged and could be a complete dangerous nutcase in the morning, when the drugs wear off.’
‘Why would anyone go to the expense and trouble of drugging her? As if, Jess.’
So some patsy would take it off their hands, she wanted to say, but didn’t. If Steve wasn’t prepared to see the situation like it was, then she wouldn’t be helping matters by pointing it out. He was also decidedly testy with her for her clear lack of support. But as much as she loved Steve and the soft side that showed itself occasionally – like the dogs being allowed inside – she thought he was being ridiculous. Not to mention straying way too far onto her turf.
They went to bed annoyed and without a kiss goodnight, and rolled to their respective edges of the bed with their backs to each other.
As she waited for sleep to claim her, Jessica seethed at the horse outside that was unsettling their lives after just two minutes.
Her eyes flew open as she realised she hadn’t asked just how much Steve had paid for the beast. Far too much, no doubt. The money was as much his as hers, though – it was probably best not to get into that.
Chapter Eighteen
Jessica was lacing up her runners for a walk when Steve came in after checking on the horse. She was beginning to like the mornings again because she now had a routine in place, a way to kill a few hours from an otherwise dull day.
‘Can you keep an eye on her water?’ Steve said. ‘She must have knocked it over. It’s full again now, but can you check again later?’
‘Oh. Okay.’ That was a little odd; never had a horse managed to knock over one of the twenty-litre flexi plastic tubs. Must have got quite a fright to bash into it that hard. Great, he has brought home a bloody nutcase, she thought with a groan. That’s all we need. She didn’t like that she’d have to get up close and personal with the horse, but there was no other way to check its water. And as much as she wanted to avoid any involvement so she wouldn’t be sucked into horse land again, she’d never be cruel or neglect an animal. Jessica knew she’d check its water supply twenty times a day if necessary, and regularly look out the window to check it hadn’t somehow got itself caught in the fence, no matter how much she disliked the idea of the horse being out there. She let out a sigh of resignation.
‘Right, well, I’m off. Wish me luck in finding a good boom sprayer at a great price,’ Steve said cheerfully.
‘Good luck,’ she said. ‘Have fun,’ she added, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. Things were civil and reasonably friendly, but not exactly lovey-dovey. Jessica wanted everything to be back to how it was before the accident.
No, she corrected, before her dad had died. She’d give anything to have his no-nonsense advice now. On what, though? He wouldn’t have let her give up the horses and would have told her sternly to get her act together, to stop feeling sorry for herself and get back up on that bloody horse. Jessica smiled sadly.
If only the money hadn’t been so tempting. And a split-second later she heard what she could have sworn was her father’s voice in her head, saying the money was just an excuse. Oh well, it was too late now. Everything happened for a reason and the right reason, didn’t Tiffany always say?
Distracted by thoughts of her father, she left the house with a lighter step, and it took her a hundred metres to realise the ease with which she was walking and the pace she was keeping up. Finally, some real progress! She pushed herself hard and even managed an ambling jog for a few metres on her way back.
As she showered, she revelled in feeling better than she had in months – not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too. Tomorrow she was going to start running. Properly. Soon she would be back in shape and her broken ankle a distant memory.
Sitting at the table eating her sandwich, her eyes were drawn to the stables – a place she’d consciously avoided looking at for weeks. Now she watched, stunned, as the horse put a hoof into the water tub and thumped it up and down, spraying water everywhere.
‘What’s your bloody problem?’ Jessica said aloud. She went outside and yelled at her. ‘Oi! Stop that!’
The horse ignored her and, as if in a moment of pure defiance, swapped feet. After a few moments it removed its hoof, stood back, lifted its head, and neighed loudly.
‘Well if you think I’m filling it up, think again, missy,’ Jessica growled. But of course she would; she’d never knowingly leave a horse without access to clean drinking water. She stomped across the gravel. The horse darted to the far side of the yard when it saw her approaching and stood eyeing her warily.
‘No more fun for you, miss,’ she said, dragging the tub under the rail and outside the yard. She positioned it where the horse could put its face in and drink, but wouldn’t b
e able to get a hoof into it without some seriously fancy footwork, and filled it up with the hose.
She’d just got settled back in the house when something made her go to the window – just a feeling. The horse had its face in the tub and was swishing it back and forth, sending water flying everywhere.
‘Jesus,’ she exclaimed. ‘Just what is your bloody problem?’ She was not going to spend all day filling up the tub. It was a waste of water, not to mention annoying.
Perhaps if the horse went without for an hour or so, it might appreciate it enough to leave it alone next time. A part of her said horses didn’t possess such cognitive skills. Another quieter voice, told her they always had the capacity to surprise.
Twenty minutes later she stole a quick glance outside and was relieved to see the creature standing quietly. Forlornly, if she was being honest. Careful, you’re being sucked in. She probably should give the horse a brush, it was no doubt lonely. But as good as Jessica’s ankle was feeling and even with the improvement in her strength and stability all round, she didn’t think it wise to get in the yard with a horse she knew nothing about when Steve was away and wouldn’t be back for hours. God, she really was turning soft; she’d never had such qualms before the accident.
In an effort to ignore the creature – and her guilt over ignoring it – and the pull to learn more about it, Jessica sat down to a marathon of Law and Order she’d recorded.
Some time later she heard a car pull up outside and pressed pause. She got up to check through the window. Tiffany. She looked at her watch. Three p.m. Shit, two hours had passed since she’d checked the horse’s water. It seemed to take an age to lace up her shoes and when she got over to the yard, Tiffany had put the hose in the tub and was stroking the face of the chestnut over the fence.
‘Who’s your new friend?’ Tiffany asked, when Jessica appeared beside her.
‘Nothing to do with me,’ she said. ‘And that will be empty again soon,’ she added, nodding at the tub Tiffany was filling. ‘She seems to have a fascination with water.’
‘Cute.’
‘Yeah, real cute,’ Jessica said, groaning and rolling her eyes.
‘So what’s her story?’
‘No idea. Some stray Steve bought at a clearing sale yesterday.’
‘Seriously?’ Tiffany stared at Jessica disbelievingly.
‘Yep. And now he’s gone off for the day, so it’s down to me. Typical.’
‘Well, it’s not like you don’t know what you’re doing. And I’m sure you’re looking for a new hobby right about now. Probably all …’
‘Don’t you dare say it’s perfect timing, meant to be, or any of that crap. I’m done with horses, Tiffany.’ In the silence the words But are you? echoed in her head. ‘And anyway, as if I’d take on something looking like that.’
‘Don’t you listen to her,’ Tiffany said to the horse. ‘It’s not personal; she’s getting over some horse stuff not to do with you.’
‘It’s all right for you, Tiffany, you …’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Go on, say it. “It’s all right for you, you only do dressage.” That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?’
Jessica stayed silent, scraping at the dirt with the toe of her shoe.
‘I might not have the guts to do cross-country, Jess, but I’m not the one who’s standing there unable to touch a horse because of some pathetic all-or-nothing complex. Just face it, Jessica, only doing dressage is not being a failure. Giving up on horses altogether because you’ve lost your nerve to ride cross-country – that’s a bloody failure!’
Jessica opened and closed her mouth. Where had her meek and mild friend gone?
‘And for the record, if I thought this was the person you would become, I would never have helped you sell Prince and Beau!’
‘We couldn’t afford to keep them,’ Jessica said quietly.
‘And that’s why I helped. But I’m now wondering if that was just an excuse. It was a difficult time. But it’s over now. You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and get your shit together before you lose everything!’
‘What? Has Steve said something?’ Jessica suddenly started to feel uncomfortably hot under her clothes.
Tiffany blushed slightly and looked down at her feet.
‘What? What’s he said?’ Now it was Jessica’s turn to blush.
As Tiffany went the few metres to turn off the tap, the horse darted to the far side of the yard. Great, Jessica thought, even the damned horse is against me. She scowled.
‘And give this girl a break. And Steve. It’s not their fault you’ve got a bloody screw loose!’
Jessica watched, stunned, as Tiffany stormed to her car, got in, slammed the door, and drove off with a spin of wheels.
She glared at the horse eyeing her warily and stomped back to the house.
*
Jessica sat in front of the laptop scrolling through the Facebook pages and websites with descriptions of missing horses and pausing to wonder at Tiffany’s reaction. It was so out of character.
But for all she knew her friend was experiencing PMT and she’d just struck a nerve. And grief was a weird thing, too. She felt a shard of guilt tear through her, but pushed it aside. Tiffany did tend to blow a lot more hot and cold than Jessica did; no doubt one of the reasons Tiffany stuck to the more sedate sport of dressage. Jessica didn’t like to be too judgemental, but she did believe that while dressage took nerve, it certainly didn’t take the guts that riding cross-country and show jumping did. She sighed, thinking of her father. The sentiment could have come out of his very mouth.
Jeff Collins had always seen dressage as a necessary evil to eventing. Yes, he understood that the partnership formed through flatwork was essential, he just didn’t see why anyone would be content going around and around an arena day after day, year after year. Not to mention how bored the horses must get. Jeff would have told Tiffany exactly what he thought out there; in fact had, on a number of occasions. They’d had some fine debates and Jessica knew it was only because of Tiffany’s restraint and respect for elders that she hadn’t told him to fuck off on more than one occasion. In the last months of Jeff’s life he and Tiffany hadn’t had many cross words, Jessica suddenly realised, trying to picture their last altercation. It was almost as if the universe had been protecting a sick man. The thought turned the blood in her veins cold, until she told herself she was being ridiculous and far too melodramatic. It didn’t happen like that. Tiffany had been quiet around Jeff generally because of all the upheaval in her life. And, anyway, they’d hardly seen each other in the last months.
Jessica had learnt to keep her opinions to herself where her father couldn’t or wouldn’t. But now she realised she was very much a chip off the old block, although she hoped she was sanded a little smoother.
Jessica shook thoughts of Tiffany and her father aside and shut down the computer. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know the brand of the chestnut horse outside – or if it even had one – because there were no horses listed with similar markings.
‘Damn it,’ she cursed under her breath. She was really hoping to have had a legitimate reason to insist Steve get rid of the horse. She could see it was going to be more trouble than it was worth, which wasn’t anything – certainly not the several hundred dollars Steve had most likely paid for it.
Another stab of guilt passed through Jessica. She sighed. She was being too harsh. All horses had their merits; they were God’s creatures – one of her father’s well-used comments. Not that they were remotely religious, but her father was brought up in that era where God was considered the creator of all, end of story. Yet he wasn’t a softy when it came to questionable horse flesh. No, his kind comment was almost always tempered by a snide ‘even if it’s only as dog food’ followed by a chuckle.
Yes, Jeff Collins had been a tough nut and that probably meant Jessica had a bit of a tough edge to her as well. She missed her father with an ache tha
t ran right through her, the physical pain of which she’d never have believed. She hadn’t felt like this after losing her mother.
Pull yourself together, Jessica. She literally did: she tightened her shoulders and sat up straighter.
Her father had also dominated her – she was only just starting to truly realise to what extent. Now she was in charge of her own life and on a new path: motherhood, fingers crossed. Horses were the past, her connection with the indomitable Jeff Collins, which had been frayed with his passing and severed with her fall. She ignored her father’s voice in her head, telling her how pathetic she was to throw in the towel.
Well, I wouldn’t have if you’d been here, she said back silently, the voice in her mind sounding not unlike a petulant teenager. If only Steve hadn’t brought home the bloody horse that was making her think about all this again. She’d been getting along fine, not looking at the empty stables, avoiding the neighbouring horses in their paddocks on her walks.
Deep down she knew this horse was staying; no doubt as a cruel joke by the universe to taunt her or as a way for Steve to make some point or other – probably that he was the man of the house, and land, and had some say. And when Steve made up his mind on something, it was best to just leave it alone.
Jessica couldn’t shake her remorse over Tiffany taking off while angry at her. She wondered what she should do about it. But then her mind strayed to the fact there was a horse out in the yards that she didn’t want to be there despite feeling drawn to it.
So far she’d managed to refrain from going out there again, even though she watched from the window as, yet again, it managed to empty its water. Jessica was practically fuming with the thought of having to go and sort it out – bloody attention seeker – when Steve’s ute passed by with the horse float attached.
Jessica frowned. Let’s hope there’s not another bloody horse in there.
She was out on the verandah when he emerged.
‘You’ll have to sort out that bloody horse – it keeps emptying its water and I’m not filling it up again!’ She went back inside and shut the door loudly behind her.
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