Leap of Faith

by Fiona McCallum

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Jessica stretched out like a starfish across the bed, enjoying the feel of space and the warm patches on Steve’s side – he’d left earlier for a CFS working bee. She luxuriated in the thought of a lie-in. Then she’d go for a walk and take Faith with her for another graze of the roadside grass; she’d seemed to enjoy that once she’d figured out what was expected.

  And then what? Perhaps she might put the horse on the lunge and see what happened. Maybe she’d even be brave enough to hop on. Just a sit to make sure Faith was okay about it. With that thought she drifted back into sleep.

  Jessica woke sometime later with a start. She was sticky with sweat. God, she’d had a bad dream. What was it about? Not the water jump one again, was it? No, thankfully she hadn’t had that one for a while now. Not since … when? Jessica lay with her eyes closed frowning, trying to remember. It didn’t matter. What was the cause of her being so dishevelled?

  Snippets started coming slowly back to her: An old lady was standing at a fence, crying. Off in the distance was a chestnut horse. The horse was saddled but riderless, its reins hanging. Oh God, she’d dreamt of Talia, of her grandmother, of Faith.

  Great, just when she’d managed to banish her own nightmare, she’d conjured up someone else’s! She opened her eyes and was surprised at just how much light was in the room. It must be after nine o’clock. Since when did she ever stay in bed that late unless she was unwell? She took an inventory of how she was feeling and was almost disappointed to find no nausea threatening. When was she going to be blessed with a baby?

  She threw the covers back and got out of bed. She was still sticky underneath her pyjamas and longed for a shower, but that would be wasteful. She’d wait until after she’d worked up a good sweat on her walk and from cleaning out the yards. She dragged clothes on, downed a cup of tea and two pieces of toast, laced up her runners, and headed out. Faith looked up as she approached, and nickered. Jessica smiled. She loved the unconditional love animals offered. The dogs, who had been snoozing in the sun, got up and frolicked around her, bantering between themselves and clamouring for her attention.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ she called. She felt brighter and cheerier than she had in months. She must have needed the extra sleep, though why, she wasn’t sure. Stop analysing it and ruining the moment. You’re feeling good, end of story.

  Looking at Faith standing beside her empty feed bin, Jessica was overwhelmed by the feeling she just had to know more about the horse. And now. Today she would not take her out, but would saddle her up and lunge her on the arena. See just what training she’d had.

  Bubbling with energy and excitement, she went into her tack room, selected a saddle that looked like it would be the best fit and a bridle that might shorten up enough for the face that was considerably smaller than any of those of the horses Jessica had had for many years. She looked down at her attire – track pants and sneakers – and deliberated going back to the house and changing. And risk losing the momentum? No way. Compromising, she slipped on her short stable boots and wrapped leather chaps around her calves and did them up. She stuck a helmet on and did it up before carrying everything out. She’d worn a helmet to lunge ever since a young horse had kicked up its heels on the lunge and nearly connected with her head years ago. It was hot, uncomfortable, and it made her head sweat, but it was worth it to be safe – especially when no one was around to call if anything went wrong. And, anyway, after a few minutes concentrating on other things, the discomfort of wearing a helmet always melted away.

  ‘What do you think about being saddled up?’ Jessica asked Faith, as she draped everything over the rail of the yard. She wondered how long it had been since the horse had been saddled. Perhaps she hadn’t even been ridden since the day Talia had died. Would it bring back fearful memories for her?

  Even with those concerns, Jessica found herself genuinely excited about embarking on a small quest to figure something out about this unknown quantity standing in front of her. Staring at Faith staring back at her with curious patience, she thought this might even be more rewarding than any run in a high-level eventing competition or being selected for the state or national team. God, she’d missed this.

  Calm down, she heard her inner voice say, you’re only saddling her up and testing her on the lunge. For all she knew the horse might have a flashback and freak out like she had when Jessica had bent down that first day.

  She led Faith out onto the arena, which she preferred to use for lunging rather than her dedicated round yard; it kept the horses more interested and stopped them getting so bored. The horse was in a nice low frame and calm but alert, and seemed no different from before she’d been saddled. She’d accepted the bit just fine and hadn’t used any dirty tricks, like moving so Jessica couldn’t get the girth done up or puffing her stomach out to prevent it being done up tight enough to fully secure the saddle. Jessica felt cautiously optimistic.

  ‘Who’s a good girl?’ Jessica cooed, rubbing Faith’s face. The dogs had retreated to their old spot beside the arena, taking up their usual positions of heads on paws, bored expressions on their faces. Jessica smiled. It was almost like old times.

  Except it wasn’t, was it? Her father wasn’t there in his deck chair beside them, ready to shout orders and criticism and offer the occasional gruff word of praise.

  A wave of sadness surged through her and she swallowed tightly as Faith nudged her gently as if to say, ‘It’s okay’, or perhaps, ‘Well, come on, let’s get this show on the road.’ The horse’s touch almost sent the gathering tears tumbling down Jessica’s face. After all Faith had been through, here she was, still kind and calm and urging her on. Jessica Collins-now-Harrington, who had dealt with big, difficult horses and huge jumps for many years and who had a history of disliking mares and horses without impeccable breeding, was being urged on by this little misfit. Get a grip, Jessica, you’re being melodramatic and overly emotional.

  ‘Okay, come on, Faith, let’s see what we’ve got. And walk on,’ she commanded, very gently slapping the loops of the lunge rein against her leg. She fed out the excess through her gloved hands as Faith started walking away from her. ‘Good girl. Walk on. That’s it.’ A slight sense of relief tinged with excitement rippled through her. The horse knew what to do. And she wasn’t frightened.

  ‘And trot,’ she called. ‘Trot on.’ Again the horse responded beautifully. She actually had reasonable movement. Once the ribs stopped showing, Faith would probably look a half-decent piece of horseflesh.

  As the horse completed her fourth circle, Jessica wondered if she dared ask for a canter. But really, what was there to lose?

  ‘And canter,’ she called crisply. Again the horse responded instantly. Jessica’s heart filled, but with what, she couldn’t quite determine. She scrutinised the stride. Not bad. Actually, really quite good. She was smooth and balanced, and quite long and loping for her small size. Jessica found herself making a bet with the ether that Faith would be very comfortable to ride.

  But this might be her better side. As she well knew, horses, like humans, had a favoured side. To their better side they were always smoother, more balanced, found it easier to bend and flex. She’d have to see. She brought the horse slowly back down through the paces to halt and was especially impressed to see her stop on the outer track and not turn and walk in towards her – a mark of a horse who was well trained and obedient, and who had obviously done plenty of work on the lunge.

  Jessica wasn’t a huge fan of having a horse go ’round and around at the end of a rope, but it was useful to warm them up, get any excess energy out of the way and check for any lameness or ailments. She preferred to long-line them, which, like driving horses, involved two long reins. It meant she could turn and change direction without stopping them to unclip and change the rein to the other side.

  But Jessica wasn’t about to run two reins down the sides of Faith in case she’d never experienced that before, especially while she was alo
ne. If the horse got a fright and freaked out and kicked her in the head or bolted and dragged her, she’d be in real trouble. This was a pleasing start. Best be satisfied with this and not push things too hard or too fast.

  ‘Who’s a good girl?’ she said, rubbing Faith’s forelock. ‘Okay, how about the other way?’ She unclipped the rein and went around to clip it onto the other side of the lunge cavesson underneath the bridle. She gave the horse a final pat on the shoulder.

  ‘Okay, off you go. And walk on,’ she commanded. Again the horse obediently moved away from her and started on a large circle. ‘Walk on. Good girl.’ She really did have a lovely stride. ‘And trot on.’

  Jessica marvelled at how the horse seemed equally happy and smooth and balanced going this way. She smiled at her calm, long frame. Yep, when she was well covered and her coat was healthy and shone, Faith wouldn’t be a bad looker at all.

  Jessica became mesmerised by her rolling gait as she watched her canter. And then she felt the ember of excitement that had been bubbling within her ignite into a fire. She was going to hop on the horse – right now. See if she really was as comfortable as she looked.

  Shaking off the niggle of fear and trepidation – mainly about being home alone – she called Faith to a halt, rolled up the lunge rein, unclipped it and dropped it on the ground. Excitement fluttered in her belly. She tried to keep it down – she didn’t want it to turn into full-blown nervousness and transfer to Faith and upset her.

  She double-checked the girth and stirrup length, gathered up the reins and put her foot into the stirrup. Normally she used a mounting block so she couldn’t drag the saddle painfully on the horse’s withers, but Faith was so much smaller than anything she’d recently ridden she figured it would be fine. Hell, if she was fitter and about five years younger she’d probably have been able to vault onto her bareback!

  Jessica sprang off the ground and leant her weight on the saddle a moment to test how Faith was going to react. Just an ear-flick of acknowledgement in her direction. She swung her leg over slowly and carefully, and lowered herself gently into the saddle. The horse shifted her weight to account for Jessica, but stood calmly and to attention. Careful to keep her wits about her, Jessica rubbed the horse’s mane reassuringly.

  ‘Good girl,’ she murmured, and stroked the horse on the shoulder. ‘Who’s a good girl?’ She tightened her reins after a few moments sitting quietly, applied a little leg pressure and said, ‘Walk on, Faith.’ The horse responded.

  Jessica made her way around the outer edge of the arena, concentrating on feeling the horse’s stride beneath her. Just as she’d looked on the lunge, she felt smooth, even and light. After one full lap she gathered up the reins tighter to indicate something was going to happen and that the horse needed to pay attention, then applied more leg pressure, and said, ‘And trot. Good girl, trot on.’

  Jessica was instantly surprised and impressed at how even Faith’s trot was – even better than she’d looked from the ground. As she made her way around the arena, Jessica found Faith’s stride was equally comfortable to sit-trot to as it was to rise to.

  Gosh, what a lovely little horse, she thought, looking along the neck that was lowered nicely in front of her. She longed to really gather her up into a shortened frame and then, after that, ask for a longer, medium trot – really put the horse through her paces. It was just so exciting. But she curbed her enthusiasm; pushing for too much too soon could end in a boilover and huge setback. She didn’t think it would happen in this case – Faith seemed far too at ease and willing – but horses were horses and she’d been well indoctrinated by her father to always expect the unexpected and not become complacent.

  Horses had brains and anything could go wrong in a split second. As well she knew. She shook the thought aside. She wasn’t going to allow any negative memories to seep in and ruin this.

  Dare she try for a canter? Yes, just a few strides. She gathered Faith up and applied her legs correctly. ‘And, canter.’ Again the horse responded beautifully. Canter could often be a little tricky but there wasn’t even the extra leap that so often happened with a new combination before they figured out how much pressure was needed and what response was expected.

  Jessica wanted to let out a cheer, feeling like she was a little girl all over again, saying, ‘Look, Dad, no hands,’ for the first time. But she didn’t want to scare Faith. And, anyway, there was no one around to hear or see. She felt a wave of disappointment, but pushed it aside. She was a grown woman with years’ worth of similar horse experiences, for goodness’ sake.

  As with her other paces, Faith’s canter was beautiful and easy to sit to, just like a nice comfortable rocking chair. After a lap of the arena, Jessica brought Faith back to trot, then walk, and then halt. She didn’t want to push her luck. Another golden rule with horses was to always aim to end a work session on a good note. Anyway, the poor horse was starting to darken with the first signs of sweat. She probably hadn’t been ridden at all in the two years since that accident.

  Jessica got off and made a big fuss of the horse, who lowered her head and buried her face in Jessica’s chest in what Jessica took to be affection. Although she might just be tired and relieved her rider had dismounted.

  ‘What a gorgeous girl you are. Thank you,’ Jessica said. She was surprised to find tears filling her eyes, and a few escaping down her cheeks. Her heart swelled and her chest began to tighten.

  ‘Would you like a hose off?’ she asked. ‘I think you would, since you seem to like water so much, cheeky thing.’ She put an arm over Faith’s neck.

  As she turned to walk back to the stable yard, she started slightly at seeing Tiffany standing in the shade by the corner of the building, almost out of sight. The dogs were beside her.

  ‘Hi,’ she called.

  Tiffany responded by clapping her hands and then saying quietly, ‘Bravo! Woo hoo! Well done, you!’

  ‘Did you see?’ Jessica called excitedly. ‘She’s gorgeous!’

  ‘I did. And, yes, she is,’ Tiffany said, making her way over to Jessica. ‘You looked great together.’

  ‘She was awesome,’ Jessica said, grinning like a kid at Christmas.

  Tiffany beamed back. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’ She hugged her friend briefly before reaching out and patting Faith, who offered a friendly nudge in return. ‘What a sweetie.’

  ‘And did you see her move? I would never have believed it.’

  ‘Is she easy to sit to? Looks like it; though you always look effortless in the saddle.’

  ‘Beautiful,’ Jessica said with a sigh. ‘I’m just going to hose her off since she seems to like water.’

  ‘Okay. I’d offer to help, but …’ Tiffany said, indicating her uniform with both hands.

  ‘No worries. Just a quick hose off then I’ll be with you. Are you on your way to or from work?’

  ‘Both. I had an early start to supervise a delivery. I’m on an early, extra-long lunch break. Sorry, but I need some company and a fortifying cuppa after having Betty Green in for an hour, quizzing me over pellet composition.’

  ‘Oh God, you poor thing,’ Jessica said, rolling her eyes sympathetically. Betty Green was well known in horse circles as being all talk and no action. She’d been on the dressage circuit for ever, but had never progressed beyond the basic levels. But by the way she spoke, the money she spent on gear, horseflesh, etc, she gave the impression she was on the Olympic team.

  She apparently came from an ‘old money’ family – not horsey old money – and was desperate to fit in, but didn’t seem to grasp that doing well in horse sports required some talent and a lot of hard work, and not simply tossing wads of money around. Jessica and Tiffany often chuckled that she’d be better off donating a stack of cash to the Olympic team and have it as a tax deduction rather than waste it on lessons with the Olympic riders. Though at least she helped keep money flowing in the industry.

  They giggled as Faith turned her nose up playfully and then grabbed the end of th
e hose in her teeth.

  ‘My Brandy hates being washed. This one’s a real water baby,’ Tiffany said in awe.

  ‘Yeah,’ Jessica said. ‘See the new mini water feeders over there? That’s because she definitely seems to have somewhat of an obsession – wouldn’t leave the tub alone. Wasteful child, aren’t you?’ she said. When Faith released the end of the hose, Jessica put her finger over it and squirted her. She tilted her face into the spray and let out a snort.

  ‘Righto, enough is enough, let’s see how you enjoy the sand,’ Jessica said, reaching over and turning the tap off.

  The girls stood shoulder to shoulder, their arms crossed on the top of the railing of what had once been Jessica’s round yard, but was now a dedicated sand pit for horses to frolic in. The sun beat a beautiful drum on their backs.

  ‘I wonder if she knows what she’s meant to do,’ Jessica said, as they watched Faith slowly checking out the new space, having shaken the excess water from her coat.

  ‘It seems so,’ Tiffany said when Faith, having dug up a patch of sand to make it softer, began turning around and then bending all her legs, preparing to roll.

  ‘Clever girl,’ they said in unison as the horse gave a big harrumph and lowered herself to the ground with a flop.

  Faith rolled over one way, paused to rub her back, and then continued onto her other side, covering her wet coat in sand. She rubbed her face against the ground and they laughed at how well she’d managed to plaster herself so fully.

  ‘She’s clearly done this before,’ Tiffany said.

  ‘Hmm. She looks happy enough,’ Jessica said, after Faith stretched out on her side in the sun. Jessica smiled and made a mental note to not panic if she came out one day to find Faith lying in the paddock like this. When most horses lay on the ground, it was with their legs tucked up underneath them. Faith clearly preferred a pose that made her appear dead. It was a great sign she was so relaxed and trusting that she was prepared to lie in such a vulnerable position.

  ‘Come on, let’s leave her be,’ Jessica said. She packed everything away in the stable before they made their way back to the house.