Authors: Linda Chapman
Dreams
Loving Spirit, Book Two
Linda Chapman
THE STABLE WAS QUIET
. Outside, on the busy yard, life bustled by, but inside there was an air of peace and calm. The gray horse nuzzled Ellie’s hands, his warm breath whispering across her fingers.
Oh, Spirit
, she thought, love swelling in her chest as she rested her head against his. They belonged to each other; they had done since the first time they’d met.
Ellie let her mind empty and lost herself in her horse’s presence. Little by little she felt the energy that surrounded them starting to merge and their thoughts opening up to each other. The first few times Ellie had experienced this sensation of their minds connecting, she had been utterly astonished. She was more used to it now, but it still sent a thrill running through her. When it happened, she and Spirit were able to talk to each other, communicating with words, images and feelings.
Now, Spirit sent a picture of a hostile, unhappy black horse into her mind.
Lucifer
, Ellie thought, with a flash of guilt.
He needs you
. Spirit’s words came to her.
Ellie knew she should be trying to help Lucifer, but she didn’t want to, not after what the black horse had done.
I’ve tried talking to him
.
It’s never worked
, she countered defensively.
You need to listen.
I do but he never talks to me.
No. Listen
, Spirit repeated patiently.
Ellie mustered more arguments, but as usual he didn’t push her. They moved on to speak about other things. Ten minutes passed and suddenly Spirit tensed. He lifted his head high and a single urgent word jumped straight into Ellie’s head.
Go!
Ellie blinked.
Go where? To Lucifer.
Lucifer?
Fear gripped Ellie as she heard Spirit’s alarm.
What’s happening?
He needs you now. Go!
As always, Ellie trusted Spirit absolutely. She didn’t stop to ask more questions or to wonder how she felt about Lucifer. She turned and ran.
Three weeks earlier…
ELLIE CARRINGTON LEANED AGAINST
the gate of the circular menage, a horse-training manual open in her hands, the breeze blowing through her long, wavy blonde hair. In the ring, a chestnut pony cantered around her cousin, Joe.
“He needs to go slower, I think!” Ellie called. “It says here: ‘the horse should settle into a steady trot.’ Can you slow Solo down while keeping him going around the outside?”
“I think so.” Joe moved so he was level with the pony’s neck. Solo instantly bounced to a stop. With a snort, he turned and raced in the other direction at an even faster canter than before.
Ellie giggled. “Think again!”
Joe frowned in concentration, his greeny-gray eyes intent, his sandy-brown hair flopping over his forehead. His father’s horse-showing yard—High Peak Stables—had a top-class reputation and Joe had ridden in the show ring all his life, but Ellie knew he was happiest like this, at home, working with a young horse. That morning, he was trying out a training technique called ‘join-up.’ It was a method based on understanding how horses acted in the wild, and using body language to communicate with them. It was particularly good for young horses and ponies like Solo when they were first being trained to wear a saddle and carry a rider.
Joe moved towards the pony’s hindquarters, but that only made Solo go faster. He tried stepping closer to Solo’s head, which made the pony stop, whizz around and change direction again. Joe stayed calm and patient, though. Finally, while staying level with the pony’s stomach, he tried stepping back. It worked. Solo slowed to a trot.
Solo trotted around the ring several times, his movement gradually becoming rhythmical and relaxed. Whenever he slowed down too much, Joe moved towards his hindquarters, sending him on. After a few minutes, he began to experiment with making Solo change direction, using just eye contact and the positioning of his body. It was very peaceful in the early morning. The only sounds were the thud of Solo’s hooves on the sand and his occasional snort ringing through the air. Behind the schooling ring rose the mountains of north Derbyshire, their peaks and ridges silhouetted against the pale blue sky. Sheep dotted the slopes, the black-faced ewes grazing, the lambs bouncing around.
“What should I look for next?” Joe called.
Ellie checked the book again. “His ear should tilt towards you and he should start to lick and maybe chew. His head might lower even more.”
As she spoke, Solo’s muzzle reached to the ground and he did exactly as she had just said. “There! Look! That’s him saying to you that he wants to join-up.”
Turning away from Solo, Joe dropped his gaze to the floor, lowering his head and rounding his shoulders. Solo slowed to a walk and then halted, looking at Joe’s new non-threatening body position. Ellie had read that this was the crucial moment, the time when the pony would make the choice whether to come in and be close to the human in the middle, or decide to stay away. If he chose to come in, it would be his way of saying he trusted Joe and they could start backing him. If he chose to stay away, then Joe would turn back and continue to drive him on.
Solo hesitated and then walked towards the center, stopping beside Joe’s shoulder.
Yes!
Ellie thought, her breath leaving her in a rush. It had happened just like the book said it should!
Joe looked outwardly calm, but Ellie was sure he was just as delighted as she was—he didn’t need the book to know what Solo coming in meant. After turning to gently rub the pony’s face between his eyes, he walked away and Solo followed him. Wherever Joe went, so did the pony. He didn’t
have
to be with the boy; he was choosing to be. By responding to the signals Solo had sent—the pony’s way of saying in horse language that he wanted to be friends—Joe had shown Solo that he understood him. The first building blocks of trust had been laid.
“It’s worked!” Joe said, coming to the gate.
He and Ellie smiled at each other, sharing the moment.
“Are you going to try putting the saddle on now?” Ellie asked.
Joe nodded.
Ellie had seen ponies being backed quite a few times and knew that usually they would buck and fight, scared of the weight of the saddle and the tightening of the girth around their stomachs. But as Joe put a headcollar on Solo, then took the saddle from the fence to place it on Solo’s back, the pony stood quietly. As Joe fastened the girth, Solo tensed, but Joe reassured him, talking gently, and the pony relaxed again, trusting what Joe was doing.
When Joe asked him to walk on, the pony walked calmly beside him as if he’d had a saddle on his back every day of his life.
It was incredible to watch. Ellie remembered the last time she’d seen a pony being backed. It had been in New Zealand, before her parents had died. She’d been with her dad. They’d watched as the pony had thrown itself around.
“There has to be a better way,” her dad had said to her then.
Dad would have loved to see this
, Ellie thought wistfully.
Mom too.
Loss welled up painfully inside her. Last July, both her parents had died in a car crash. She could barely remember the time straight after, her grief had been completely overwhelming. But over the eight months since then, the intense pain had gradually faded. She still missed them every day, but most of the time now she could get by OK. Or at least she could until something like this happened—a moment that she would want to share with them—and then the fact that they were gone, that she would never see them again, would hit her full-on.
She had many tricks for dealing with the pain. Now, she focused on holding her breath, counting to ten and back again, waiting for the feelings to subside. She hoped Joe was too busy with Solo to notice. He would only ask what was wrong if he saw she was upset and she didn’t like to talk about her mom and dad with anyone apart from Spirit.
As Ellie pictured Spirit’s pricked ears and dark wise eyes, she felt as if the pain inside her was being wrapped in a blanket. Just the thought of Spirit could comfort her. It felt like he had been in her life forever, but it had only been two months since she had first seen him at a horse sale, bought him and led him back here to High Peak Stables. Back then the countryside had been gripped by winter, snow hugging the bare peaks, a bitter wind blowing across the yard every day, but now the air was warmer and yellow daffodils danced around the fence posts.
Ellie looked around. Even with spring softening the rugged bleakness of the mountains, the countryside here in the Peak District was far from the lush rolling hills of New Zealand where she had grown up. It still felt like a landscape that she didn’t quite belong in—part of a life that wasn’t really hers.
She had wanted to stay with her grandma in New Zealand, but it had eventually been decided it was best for Ellie to move to England to live with her Uncle Len and sixteen-year-old cousin, Joe. Being only fourteen, she had no say in the matter. She wondered what her life would be like if she’d hadn’t left New Zealand. It was hard to know how to feel about that, because then, of course, she wouldn’t have met Joe or bought Spirit. Her mom had used to have a saying: ‘
every ending is another beginning
.’ It was true, she realized. So many new things had begun since her life in New Zealand had ended…
Joe led Solo over to the gate, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I’ll make that do for today.”
Ellie tried to focus on the horse. “He’s being really good. Why don’t you try backing him?” In the book, it suggested you could back a horse in the first session with join-up.
“Not today.” Joe patted Solo. “It would be stupid to rush him.”
“But he looks really relaxed.” Ellie looked at him hopefully. “I’ll get on if you want.”
“Nope,” Joe said, starting to untack Solo. “I’ll leave it.”
“Go on!”
“No,” Joe didn’t rise to her urging. “He’s not being ridden today.”
Ellie sighed. Joe’s steady, thoughtful approach to life reminded her a lot of her dad who had been very patient and calm. She knew it was a good way to be with horses and she tried to be like that when she could, but it didn’t come naturally. She was far more like her mom had been—a whirlwind who swept through life, hating to wait for anything, jumping into things head first. Still, at least they got things done, as her mom always used to say.
She took the saddle from Joe and they started to lead Solo in.
“I wonder what Dad would say if he could see what we’d just done.”
“Yeah.” Ellie couldn’t wait to see her uncle’s face when he saw them finally riding Solo. Her uncle was one of the top producers of show horses in the country, but he had no time for new techniques like join-up, preferring to stick with the traditional methods he’d known all his life.
They have to know who’s boss
, he often said when talking about horses. He’d only agreed Joe could try and join-up with Solo because he thought handling was good for a young horse, but he’d made it clear he didn’t think Joe would get far with saddling the pony.
“So, when are you going to show him what you’ve been doing?” Ellie asked curiously.
“I’m not.”
“What?” Ellie was taken aback. “Why?”
Joe shrugged. “I just don’t see the point. You know Dad’ll never come around to join-up himself and if I try and tell him how good it is, it’ll only cause a massive fight.”