by Paula Boer
Ben hadn’t realised he had been holding his breath until he released it. “Will he be rideable again?”
Oliver paused before answering. “If he was a valuable horse, I’d say give him a chance, but the amount of care he’s going to need probably isn’t worth it for a brumby. Sorry, laddie, but I think we’re better off putting him down.”
“No! He is valuable. He’s going to be my stud stallion. I can look after him. Look at Snifter. He’s come good.” Ben stroked Brandy’s ears, even though the horse remained unconscious.
“This is why I was hoping your father would be here. What about your mother, laddie? Is she around?” Oliver stood and washed his hands in the bucket of water that Ben had made ready earlier.
Ben couldn’t bear to look at the vet. He twirled the lead rope around his clammy hands. “It doesn’t matter if she is. He’s my horse. It’s my decision, and I want to save him.”
Oliver stood back and looked Brandy over. “Well, I was going to suggest we geld him while he’s down, but if you want him as a stud stallion, I guess we won’t be doing that either.”
Relieved that Oliver wasn’t going to argue, Ben looked across at the silver-haired man, grinning as he saw the gleam in the vet’s eye. “Thanks. He’s a great horse, even if he does rear and buck when he gets excited.”
“Does he now? Let’s check him out, then.” Oliver crouched down and ran his hands along the horse’s spine, probing with his fingers. Not remarking on anything, he continued feeling his way up the stallion’s neck, round his ears and down his jaw. Opening the brumby’s mouth, he felt inside with chubby fingers. “He’s ulcerated from those wolf teeth. We’d better whip them out while we can.”
As the vet went to his car to get the gear he needed, Ben berated himself. Brandy’s teeth! Of course that was the problem. His father always had the young horses’ teeth seen to before they wore a bridle for the first time, but having caught Brandy wild, it hadn’t occurred to Ben to get the vet to do his teeth. But would he ever be able to ride Brandy again and see if it made a difference?
Oliver returned with his dentistry tools and quickly extracted Brandy’s wolf teeth. He handed them over to Ben. “They’re wee things, but cause a whole load of trouble.”
Ben looked at the two ivories in his hand, smaller than his little finger nails. He slipped them into his pocket, intending to keep them as a reminder for when he bred his own young stock. “What about his leg?”
“I’ll finish cleaning that up and I’ll show you how to re-bandage it. You’ll need to change the dressing every three days and cut off any proud flesh that starts to grow. It’s a messy business, but it’ll keep any scarring to a minimum.” Oliver worked as he talked, applying liniment to the open wound before wrapping it with a wax gauze. “This’ll prevent the cotton wool from sticking to the flesh. It’s expensive, but worth it.”
Flinching at the thought of what the treatment would cost, Ben took note of the vet’s instructions. “When will we know if he’ll be rideable?”
Standing up and stretching, Oliver considered Ben’s question. “You’ll just have to take it one step at a time. Keep him locked up for now, and we’ll assess him again in a couple more weeks.”
Brandy’s legs twitched and then scrabbled in the loose straw. No sooner had he roused, he hefted himself up into a sitting position and lurched to a stand. Swaying slightly, he looked around him with a dazed expression.
Ben stroked the horse’s neck and picked straw out of his mane. “I’ll get you better, I promise; but don’t ever try and jump a wire fence again.” The thought that his horse may not be able to jump at all brought stinging tears to his eyes. Ben didn’t want to ask whether the horse would ever be able to enter the high country race, but he knew he’d give his stallion all the care he needed.
Chapter 7
Louise clicked her seatbelt shut. “Christmas Eve! I grabbed some extra big carrots for Honey as I won’t see her tomorrow.”
Mrs Hardy turned out of the driveway and cruised towards the main road. “I’m sure she’ll cope without you. I’ll be finished with the Carols by Candlelight rehearsal by two o’clock; will you be done by then?”
Sun streamed through the car window, making Louise blink. “Sure. Patti has said I can do as much or as little as I can fit in.”
Louise chattered on to her mother about all the things she hoped to do with the horse trainer. Today would be her first lesson riding on the lunge. The other day she and Patti had focused on ground work. Half nervous and half excited, Louise hoped she could learn to jump too.
Gravel scrunched under the car’s tyres as Mrs Hardy came to a stop in the car park at Gold River Run. “I want to do a bit of shopping before we go home, so don’t be late as I expect they’ll close early today.”
After kissing her mother on the cheek, Louise scrambled from the car with her pack slung over one shoulder. She dumped her gear in the tack room and collected Honey’s halter.
As Louise strode across the paddock, Honey raised her head. After walking over for her usual treat, she slobbered carrot juice over Louise’s T-shirt and nudged her owner’s arm.
“You’re getting too pushy by far.” Louise slipped the headcollar on Honey to lead her back to the stable block. Having tied the mare to a piece of twine in the wash bay, she brushed out her mane and tail. Using the body brush, she made long sweeps along the buckskin’s coat. Cleaning the brush each stroke on the curry comb, she settled in to a relaxing rhythm. Honey’s golden coat started to gleam.
“She looks lovely. Are you almost ready?” Patti approached with a cavesson and lunge rein in one hand, and a long whip in the other.
Louise wiped her brow on her arm. “I’ve just got to clean out her feet.” Lifting the brumby’s near fore, Louise picked the hard packed dirt from around the frog and brushed the sole clean.
Patti changed the mare’s headcollar for the cavesson. “You’ve obviously done a lot of work with her. Here, let me show you how this fits.”
Placing two fingers between Honey’s cheekbone and the noseband, Patti described the correct height for the cavesson and how tight it needed to be. “You don’t want the cheek pieces to be able to move over her eyes.”
Honey tossed her head at the strangeness of the new equipment. Stepping sideways, she tried to shove Patti with her nose. The instructor immediately rapped her on the muzzle. “None of that. Learn some manners.”
“She’s been doing that with me a lot lately.” Louise stood back while Patti made the brumby mare back up, walk forwards again, and turn on her hindquarters.
“You mustn’t let her think she’s boss. That’s half your trouble.” Leading the way to the indoor arena, Patti made sure that Honey walked at her shoulder, chasing her up behind with the whip if she lagged.
Louise slid open the massive door to the indoor arena next to the stable block. The full size dressage arena had two walls lined with mirrors, set above wooden panelling. On the other long wall, tiers of benches provided seating for spectators.
Louise sat near the end, opposite where Patti started to work Honey in circles. Normally, the mare took a while to warm up and dragged herself along, trying to cut in to the centre. As Louise watched, she saw how Patti encouraged the horse with her voice and body, reinforcing her commands with a slight flick of the whip’s end if necessary.
“Don’t expect anything less than what you have asked for if you know she understands. Every time she gets away with a little bit, you make your job harder.” The mare trotted with a strong stride, tail swishing and head lowered.
“I’ve never had the chance to see her like this before.” Louise sat on her hands and watched every step her horse took, noting where the hind hooves tracked up ahead of the prints made by the forehand. Honey’s rump rocked from side to side as the powerful muscles thrust her forward, her thick tail carried out like a banner.
Patti brought the horse to a halt before walking towards her. The mare ducked her head down to rest. “Now I’ve got the feel for her, let’s get you on. Have you got your helmet? Grab that stirrup leather that’s hanging over there. You can use it as a neck strap.”
After giving Louise a leg up, Patti stood back and studied Louise’s position. “Pretty good, but relax your lower back more and bring your shoulders back. Your legs are in a nice straight line through your shoulder, hip and heel, but your hands could be a little higher and more apart. Thumbs on top.”
Louise adjusted her body to Patti’s instructions, trying to remember everything all at once. Having no stirrups, she tried to hold her legs as if she was sitting in a saddle. “I hope I don’t slide off.”
Patti backed away from the horse. “Relax, you look like a shop dummy.”
Louise sank deeper onto Honey’s back as she released the tension in her spine. “Is that better?”
“Much. Now, before you go anywhere, I want you to do a few exercises on the spot.” For the next few minutes, Patti had Louise swing her arms and legs at her sides, and do ‘round the world’ where she lifted her legs over Honey’s body until she sat sideways, then facing the tail, then the other side and back to facing the head again.
The more Louise worked on the exercises, the more confident she became. Honey stood still, despite Louise almost slipping off a few times.
Patti looped the lunge rein in her hand and started the mare walking in a small circle. “Keep swinging your arMs I’ll keep her moving; you worry about yourself.”
After working at the walk for ten minutes, Patti loosened the lunge rein to make the circle larger. “Hang on to the neck strap and try a trot. Don’t try to rise, just relax and go with her.”
Honey surged forward at Patti’s command, almost unseating Louise. She managed to stay on board with one hand holding on to the neck strap. Not having to worry about controlling the brumby, Louise focused on her own position and feeling Honey’s legs moving beneath her. “This is better than the other day.”
“Okay, now I want you to ask her to come back to a walk.”
“But I haven’t got a bridle.” Louise looked in towards Patti, not understanding what she meant.
Patti explained. “Lock your back and stop going with her. As soon as she slows to the pace you want, relax and go with her again. You don’t need your hands to stop her.”
It took Louise a few attempts to achieve the results Patti asked for, but when she could perform the downward transition to walk within a couple of strides, she did the same to come to a square halt. “How does she know what to do?”
“You provide resistance and then reward her with no resistance when she does what you want. Horses are smart. But you have to be quick to release the pressure as soon as they do what you’re after, so they know what it is they have done to gain that reward.” Patti let Louise rest for a few moments before suggesting they try a canter.
Louise stiffened. “Are you sure? She won’t buck, will she?”
Patti shook her head. “Canter is much easier than trot, just faster. A saddle doesn’t hold you on, and don’t forget I’ll be instructing her. Relax and feel her rhythm the same as you did at the trot.”
Without waiting for a response, Patti urged the horse on. Honey broke into a canter.
Louise beamed as she rode her horse in circles about Patti. She’d never dreamed she’d get this far in her first lunge lesson. Dust rose as the mare cantered in circles.
Beams of sunlight from the skylights shone through the motes swirling around Patti’s body. “Is she on the correct lead?”
Louise looked down and checked which foreleg led. “I think so. Am I right?”
Patti nodded and slowed the horse back through trot and walk to a halt. “You shouldn’t need to look to see which leg she is on. Let’s go the other way and try feeling her stride without looking. Shut your eyes if you like.”
Although Louise loved riding with her eyes shut, the thought of doing so without a saddle made her nervous. She pinched her eyes shut, leaving just a little gap so she could see Honey’s ears, which helped her maintain her balance. The warmth of Honey’s body seeped through Louise’s jodhpurs and she became distinctly aware of her mare’s sweet smell.
As soon as Honey started to canter, Louise could feel the sequence of the buckskin’s legs; she struck off with her off hind; and then her near hind and off fore together; then her near fore. “We’re on the left lead. That’s wrong.”
“Bring her back to a trot and ask her to canter again. She obviously favours the other direction.” Patti let Louise control the mare with her legs and seat.
As soon as Honey returned to a trot, Louise started to bounce. Tensing up, she felt herself slip. Despite gripping on to the neck strap, the more she moved the faster Honey went. Louise slid around until she was almost underneath her mare’s neck. Frightened of becoming tangled in the brumby’s legs if she fell, she heaved on the mane and managed to drag herself back into place.
Without realising, she dug her heels into Honey’s sides. The buckskin leapt forward, leaving Louise behind. With a crash she landed on her backside in the sand.
Patti brought the horse into the centre of the circle and halted her. “Get back on and walk a couple of laps. I think you’ve done enough for today. You did well though. Don’t feel bad about coming off. Any good rider has falls.”
When her mother came to collect her, Louise couldn’t stop talking about her morning. “You should have seen Honey working for Patti. She was so good.”
“That’s wonderful, darling. I hope you worked hard for Patti, too.” Mrs Hardy pulled in front of the Goldriver store and turned off the engine.
“I mucked out three stables and groomed her big grey, then I put up jumps for her while she schooled this fiery little bay gelding.” Louise shut the car door behind her and followed her mother into the shop, still talking. “And the Thoroughbred mare was rescued from the race track and is going to be a dressage horse, she’s gorgeous and there’s a fat pony she’s going to break to harness…”
Mrs Hardy greeted the shopkeeper.
Louise realised her mother wasn’t listening. It didn’t matter, she’d had a fun morning and learnt a lot, despite falling off.
She gazed around the Goldriver store. It was unlike any of the shops in Crowhurst. Here, everything imaginable piled on shelves, on the floor or any other surface. A small counter had a glass screen covered in post office stickers. Vegetables overflowed from sacks near the door and boxes of free range eggs mingled with magazines and local pottery mugs near the till. The store sold hardware and kitchen goods as well as food, with a lot of local, home-grown produce.
Catching the name ‘Old Harry’, Louise tuned in to the conversation between her mother and the shopkeeper.
“All those boxes are for him. He comes in once a month for his supplies and always has a pile of books to collect too. It’s a good job he has that mule these days, because his Christmas box is fuller than normal.” The round middle-aged woman pointed to a large parcel wrapped in brown paper than sat amidst boxes of groceries.
“You mean that’s all for Harry?” Louise had thought that the old hermit found most of his food in the forest, but she could see that he had a large variety of produce waiting for collection. She remembered him saying he came into Goldriver to get supplies, but had thought he meant a bag of sugar, or flour or something, not all these packets and tins of things she didn’t even recognise.
Bustling to carry a large ham from the cold room, the storekeeper nodded. “He does alright, does Old Harry. Each month he orders what he wants for the following pick up and I send the bill to an address in Victoria. It’s always paid promptly.” She added a round of local goat’s cheese to the pile accumulating on the counter. “Anything else? I’ve one last Christmas cake made by Valerie Downes if you’re interested.
They’re the very best.”
Mrs Hardy looked at Louise and agreed to the cake. “We seem to get through a lot of food these days with two teenagers in the house. Dean is growing like a weed at sixteen, and Louise eats as much as the horses she loves.”
Louise didn’t respond, being too busy thinking about the implications of what the storekeeper had said. She knew she had no reason to think of Harry as having no family or friends, but it seemed that she had been wrong. Someone must have sent the enormous parcel covered in stamps. Then she berated herself. She and Ben should have thought to get Harry a Christmas present. It was too late now, but she promised herself she would go out soon and take him something nice. She wanted to tell him about Fred, and ask his advice about looking after the baby bird.
The next morning, Christmas Day, the kookaburras woke Louise as they started their chorus at first light. Fred joined in the racket, demanding his feed from where he lived in the shoebox on Louise’s dressing table. After dropping the mince and egg mix down his throat, she settled him back into his box with fresh water in the lid of a take-away food container. She thought of Harry collecting his parcels from Goldriver and hoped he’d have a very special day.
Not feeling like going back to bed, she tiptoed into the living room. She gasped as she saw a bulky package under the Christmas tree. Seeing her name on the tag, she touched the red and gold paper and ran the silver ribbons through her fingers.
“You’d better open it, now you’re up.” Mr Hardy stood in the doorway, wrapping his dressing gown belt around his waist.
“Dad! Happy Christmas!” Louise leapt to her feet and hugged her father. “Can I?”
“Of course. But let your mum and Dean sleep on. They were both out late last night at their music events. Do you want tea?” Mr Hardy disappeared into the kitchen as Louise crawled back under the tree.
Dragging her parcel out with both hands, she couldn’t bear to open it straight away, but at the same time wanted to know if it was what it looked like. Unsticking the tape piece by piece, she unwrapped her Christmas present—the main thing she had admired for months in the saddlery window—the hand-carved stock saddle with silver adornments.