Leap of Faith

by Fiona McCallum

  Where the cattle had been was boggy, and a few times Jessica was thrown forwards as Faith sank into the mud. She continued to give the horse her head, letting her pick her own way. How she went about this was crucial. As long as they drove the cattle up to the fence and across the creek by the gate, they couldn’t go wrong. There was really nowhere else to go, anyway. And, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t rush them and risk the young calves falling down and being left behind by panicked mothers.

  She hoped the calves could get across the creek. It was looking very deep, and just getting worse. The water even seemed to be flowing faster than just moments before. She tried to control her rising panic. She had to get the cattle across and herself, Faith and the dogs out of here, else they could all be swept away. She fought the urge to push the cattle harder but, like Faith, they needed to pick their own way to stay safe.

  It seemed to be taking forever. In an effort to try to keep her composure, she began silently chanting: ‘Slow and steady wins the race.’ She kept it up, despite hearing and seeing chunks of the banks giving way behind and around her.

  The first of the cattle were now standing alongside the fence facing the creek. They couldn’t go any further without crossing and they began bellowing their protest.

  ‘You have to,’ Jessica cried, feeling the frustration and emotion starting to spill over. Her chest ached and a lump was lodged in her throat. ‘Push them up,’ she called to Laurel and Hardy. They went in, nipped a heel each and darted back out of the way of flying hooves. They couldn’t push any harder than that and they weren’t about to put themselves at risk of being kicked. Now what?

  ‘Come on. Gee up!’ she shouted, hoping Faith would understand it was the cattle and not her that the direction was aimed at. All she needed was one brave beast to take the plunge – literally – and show the way. The rate they were going, the bank would give way and do it for them.

  She continued to sit on Faith in the drenching rain, waiting, feeling helpless. The dogs were hoarse from barking. With sheep, they would have leapt up onto their backs, raced forwards and barked in the ears of the leaders to get them going, and then darted back before hopping down onto the ground again to nip at the heels of those at the back. It didn’t work like that with cattle, they were too big and menacing. And these were worse because they were trying to protect their young.

  Jessica looked across at the fence spanning the creek to her left. So far it had held, thanks to Steve’s ingenious invention of a series of floats and springs so the span could rise and fall with the water level without being swept away. Then she looked around for a long, narrow branch. Perhaps if she could poke some of the cattle in the backside, she could create movement. But the ground was so wet and churned up from all the hooves, all she could see was mud.

  This felt like it was taking hours, but it was probably less than thirty minutes since she’d left the safety of the house yard.

  Then she felt Faith lurch beneath her, and watched, stunned as the horse stretched her neck out and nudged the closest cow. This in turn sent the unstable cow’s head into the beast in front of her. Suddenly the first three plunged into the water. Shit, Jessica thought, as two calves followed, only their necks and heads visible.

  ‘Come on, get up!’ she yelled. ‘Good girl, Faith. Push.’ She urged the horse forwards with her legs. And Faith pushed. Jessica’s heart leapt into her mouth again and she choked on an intense rush of emotion. Slowly the cattle and calves crossed and streamed out into the next paddock at a rambling trot and then a canter, as they realised they were free and the ground was firm.

  Jessica found herself staring at two muddy banks with filthy, bubbling white water racing between them. The cattle were all heading up the hill towards the house. Tears began to stream down her face. She had done it! They had done it!

  ‘Good dogs. Good Faith,’ she said, rubbing the horse on the shoulder.

  A rumble of thunder brought her attention back. While she might have got the cattle to safety, she, Faith and the dogs were still stuck on the wrong side of the creek. She’d momentarily forgotten the wind and rain in her excitement. She wiped the tears away and looked down at where the cattle had crossed.

  It was a quagmire. She couldn’t see anything and didn’t want to risk Faith sinking up to her belly in mud and getting stuck. The dogs would certainly be swept away if they tried to cross. She didn’t want to leave them unattended, couldn’t – it was too dangerous. They would want to follow their charges right to the end: the double gates into the next paddock; that was what they were trained to do.

  ‘Laurel and Hardy, stay! Leave them now. Good dogs,’ she said, and turned Faith so she could scan the bank from where they’d come. She shuddered at the thought of going back through the creek, could barely believe she’d done it earlier. But she had, thanks to Faith. What an incredible, courageous little horse.

  Having looked the length of the creek, her gaze snagged on the capped fence and the road beyond. So far the culvert seemed to have held with just a bit of erosion in the gutter. She had to concede, though, that she was really too far away to be sure. Dare she tackle a jump on Faith? Could she, on any horse – ever again? Her chest thudded with a fresh surge of fear and adrenaline.

  She looked from the creek to the jump and back again. She had to make a choice – she couldn’t stay here. The gate out onto the road was locked; the jump was probably the safer option if it was dry enough underfoot. The cattle hadn’t been that far up, so hopefully the ground would still be okay.

  Another chunk of bank fell away nearby, startling Faith. She backed up. The far side began disintegrating too. The creek now took up more than two thirds of the paddock, Jessica realised. Even if she found somewhere to cross, by the time she got there she might be cut off from the gate the cattle had just gone through.

  She gathered Faith up and gave her a gentle nudge with her legs. At least she knew the horse could jump.

  ‘Come on, girl, we can do it,’ she said, more for her own benefit. ‘Come on, dogs.’ They trotted with difficulty, squelching in the sodden ground. The dogs had to leap and bound to keep up. They must be exhausted.

  Jessica brought Faith back to a walk for the last few strides to the capped fence. She checked the ground. It was raised and much dryer where they’d added a few loads of gravel and sand after it had been worn away by the hunters over the years. She pulled Faith up.

  ‘Laurel, Hardy, go home!’ she commanded, waving her arm towards the house. The dogs looked at her, seemingly dubious, unwilling to leave. ‘Go on. Go home now!’ she yelled. She felt dreadful as they took off over the fence, turned left, and ran up the road to the driveway with their tails between their legs, but she couldn’t risk them getting under Faith’s feet. This was scary enough as it was, and getting worse the more she thought about it. Jessica was quivering all over with fear.

  She turned Faith away from the jump, put her in a trot, gathered her up, applied her legs, turned at the edge of the firm ground, and pushed her into a canter. Jessica could barely count her four strides into the jump in her mind, thanks to her heart racing so hard and pounding so loudly against her ribs and in her ears. Oh God, she thought. Three, two, one … Again, she wanted to shut her eyes, but didn’t. She sat hard into the saddle …

  Faith rose underneath her, taking off perfectly, tucking her legs in, and sailing through the air. They landed safely on the other side. Jessica gently turned her towards the house.

  Oh my God, we did it! Wow, that felt good. A new rush of adrenaline fuelled her. She checked Faith, who seemed to have had her own injection of adrenaline. She was up on her toes, her head was raised, her ears pricked, now seemingly completely unaware of the atrocious weather still raging around them.

  The horse didn’t seem to care that she couldn’t turn her back to the wind. Jessica was a little surprised at suddenly feeling the cold seeping through her track pants. And, God, she could barely feel her fingers. Time to get home and clean and dry.


  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Back at the stables, Jessica scraped the excess water from Faith’s coat and towelled her off. It wasn’t really necessary – the stable was quite warm despite the weather raging outside. Faith would be safe from catching a chill.

  But Jessica couldn’t bring herself to leave. She would be forever grateful to the little horse. What she felt for the horse now was so much stronger even than the overwhelming feelings she’d had for her the day she’d first ridden her. Every time she thought about what they’d just been through, tears streamed down her face.

  ‘And to think I called you plain,’ she said, shaking her head slowly. She still felt terrible about that, so part of the reason she was fussing over Faith so much now was to atone for her harsh early judgement. Faith hung her head and her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to keep her eyes open. ‘Okay, girl, I’ll leave you be,’ Jessica finally said, taking the hint. She gave the horse’s neck one last rub, kissing her on the forehead. ‘You’re a good girl. Thank you,’ she said, for probably the twentieth time. The words seemed so inadequate, given what the horse had done for her – for them. Perhaps, given Steve had rescued her from goodness only knew what fate, they were even.

  No – they’d never be even. If it hadn’t been for Faith taking the initiative at the edge of the creek, Jessica knew she couldn’t have made her. She’d been frozen on the spot. She liked to think she might have found the courage to cross the creek, but knew she was kidding herself.

  And then the horse had bravely pushed the cattle. Had managed to do what the dogs and Jessica hadn’t been able to. Jessica shook her head in wonder, and for the umpteenth time since the horse had arrived on the property thought, Yep, there’s something really special about you.

  ‘Sleep tight. I’ll check on you later,’ she said, and turned away. ‘Come on, dogs.’

  Laurel and Hardy rose from the corner where they were curled up. They were clearly plum tuckered out, as her father would have said. It had been quite an ordeal.

  ‘Don’t think you’re getting towelled off or blow-dried,’ she told them as they trudged across the sodden gravel to the house. Suddenly she was exhausted and struggling to lift her feet. She couldn’t decide what she wanted more – a steaming hot shower or to collapse on the couch. She sighed. She couldn’t sit on the leather while she was this wet and muddy, and by the time she got an extra throw rug out of the linen press, she may as well just have had a shower. She shivered involuntarily. The dampness in her clothes was finally catching up with her and making her cold. It had been fine while she’d been moving and had had the warmth rising up from Faith. She sneezed. ‘Great, that’s all we need.’

  Inside, she looked at the dogs, who stood looking forlorn, obviously realising they’d better not leap onto the leather lounges in their state either.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Jessica muttered. Her shower would have to wait a few more minutes. Anyway, it wouldn’t take long to towel them off. And she’d lay a few towels on the couch, just to be sure.

  When she was done drying the dogs and covering the couch, she said, ‘Okay, you guys, up you hop.’ They did, and then looked mighty content. Jessica sighed deeply with her own sense of contentment at imagining the hot needles that would soon be hammering on her cold flesh. Finally the wind seemed to have died down and the thunder and lightning had moved on. But rain still drummed on the roof. God, what a day.

  Jessica could barely get her buttons undone, her hands were so cold and stiff. If she thought she had the strength, she might have considered just ripping the flannel work shirt open and worrying about the lost buttons later. But she was sapped and all her muscles were beginning to ache and seize up. She was having trouble finding the energy even to remain standing. At last her clothes dropped to the ground with a wet plop and she reached in to turn on the shower.

  She stepped into the warm water and immediately felt the tension running off her, along with the cold. Ah, it was blissful.

  Suddenly there was a new rush of tears. Oh, for God’s sake, it was getting ridiculous; she was just standing under the shower. She focussed on soaping herself all over and then washing and rinsing her hair, taking a lot longer than usual, very reluctant to leave this warm cocoon.

  When she could no longer justify standing there, she turned the taps off with a sigh. She stood for a few moments in the steam, trying to summon the energy to reach for the towel, and knowing what an effort drying herself off would take. If only she’d brought her bathrobe in she could just wrap herself in that and be done.

  You’re sounding like an old woman.

  I feel like an old woman, she silently replied with a weary laugh. She reached around and dragged her towel from the towel rail. It weighed a tonne, but she pushed on and a few minutes later she was sitting on the bed wrapped in her robe.

  But now she couldn’t face getting a clean set of clothes out. Just a few minutes’ rest, then she’d get up and put some clothes on.

  She was still sitting there in her robe when she heard heavy, rushed footsteps on the verandah and the door opening and closing, and then more footsteps inside.

  ‘Jess?’ Steve called.

  ‘In here.’

  Steve appeared in the doorway. ‘God, what’s happened? Where are the cattle? Are you okay?’ He rubbed his hands over his face.

  Jessica nodded, though she wasn’t sure she was okay. She felt stunned, numb, kind of like something major had happened, but she wasn’t totally sure what.

  Steve knelt in front of her. He gripped her knees firmly.

  ‘I came home to move the cattle away from the creek. But they’re not there.’

  ‘I moved them,’ Jessica said, finally finding some strength to lift her head and open her mouth.

  ‘What? How?’ He was looking around, as if the answers were in the room somewhere.

  ‘Faith. The dogs. They’re up behind the house.’ She raised her arm to vaguely indicate the direction. It was heavy. ‘Oh, God, Steve.’ She brought her hands to her face as she was swamped with emotion and a fresh flood of tears.

  Steve leapt onto the bed and held her tight as her racking sobs caused her to shake all over.

  It took a few minutes for the bout to subside enough for her to speak again.

  ‘Faith was amazing. She’s so special. You’ve no idea. She …’ Again Jessica’s words were swallowed by tears. She struggled to breathe.

  Steve rubbed her back. ‘I know. I know,’ he said quietly.

  Jessica wanted to say, No, you don’t know, but found herself unable to speak once more.

  Finally there were no more tears to cry and she extricated herself from Steve’s embrace before wiping the sleeve of the robe across her face.

  ‘God, look at me. I can’t stop crying.’

  ‘Well, you’ve clearly had a shock. As long as you’re sure you’re okay.’

  Jessica nodded again. ‘It’s happy tears, really. I think,’ she said, with a tight laugh, trying to gather herself. ‘But you should have seen Faith.’ She shook her head with wonder, though she didn’t go on.

  ‘Let’s get you dressed,’ Steve said, getting up and pulling Jessica’s underwear drawer open.

  She didn’t object when he knelt before her and put on her socks, nor did she when he helped her out of her robe and held her knickers open for her to step into. They had no secrets; they knew every wrinkle, every scar. Again she was reminded that this was what marriage was about, this intimacy and openness.

  Eventually he kissed her on the forehead and led her, fully dressed, out into the lounge.

  ‘Thank you for taking good care of my girl, you guys,’ he said, going over and giving Laurel and Hardy a pat each.

  Jessica smiled. God, she loved Steve. And Laurel and Hardy. And Faith. She was so lucky to have her little family, her little menagerie. She forced back yet another wave of emotion.

  She wrapped her hands around the mug of tea Steve brought her and closed her eyes as the sweet liquid swirled around
her mouth blissfully, then slowly made its way through her. ‘Ah, that is good,’ she said.

  ‘So, tell me what happened,’ Steve said, sitting beside her.

  As she retold the story, she became emotional again and again, and had to wait for each new rush of tears before carrying on. God, what is wrong with me? It’s over. I’m fine. We’re all fine.

  ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me,’ she said, feeling exasperated at her lack of self-control. But she really couldn’t help it: suddenly her chest would tighten and a rush of tears would spring forth.

  ‘You’ve had a big day. You saved our livelihood and countless lives, Jess, of course you’re emotional. Not to mention conquering your fear by crossing the creek and jumping the capped fence.’

  Jessica nodded. Her face was beginning to burn from the salty tears that had run down it.

  *

  Jessica couldn’t shake the restlessness. It was as if the adrenaline was still mildly affecting her. Well, it had been a pretty exciting morning, so it was probably quite understandable that she’d still be a little hyped up, she thought as she silently chewed her cheese and tomato sandwich.

  Beside her at the table, Steve was chattering away about the morning’s activity, sand-bagging the school and preventing the flooding of the IT and science labs. He continued to be apologetic for not being there when she had needed him. Jessica felt bad that he felt bad.

  If Steve had been there, he would have used the four-wheel drive to move the cattle, if they could have got it across the creek. There was no guarantee that would have worked, though, given the depth of the water and the fact the calves were not used to being rounded up and could have become flighty. Perhaps they would have had to use Faith anyway. And as Steve didn’t ride, then it would have still been up to Jessica. Steve had given the table a light thump when he realised that, as if trying to drive the point home and absolve his guilt.