Leap of Faith (5 page)

‘I'm okay, could have been a lot worse.'

‘Right, so where do you want him?' Clearly the niceties were over! The really serious riders, like Tash, who made a business of running stables, buying and selling horses, and instructing full time to pay their way on circuit, tended to be a little brusque. Jessica wondered if the behaviour was the competitiveness that the really top riders had to have to succeed or if they thought that if they appeared too nice and friendly they wouldn't be taken seriously. She hoped people didn't see her like that.

‘Just pop him in the nearest day yard, thanks, and I'll get Steve to move him later. I wouldn't mind just running my eye down his legs.'

‘He's fine, as I said on the phone,' Tash said.

No need to get defensive,
I wasn't questioning your treatment of him
.

‘I've taken him for a lead to stretch his legs and he doesn't seem too stiff and sore. He's pulled up remarkably well. Just a few scrapes on his back legs.'

Tash turned on her heel and strode back down the steps and over to the float, where she opened the front door and reached in to undo the lead rope. She then went around and opened the tailgate and lowered it. Jessica felt awkward and helpless, but didn't feel stable enough to make the trip down the steps. She instead offered a smile and wave to the driver of the ute – William, Tash's teenage son, judging by the P plates and lack of interest in getting out and being sociable. She was rewarded with a nod and three-finger salute from the hands still on the steering wheel.

Jessica gasped as she caught sight of the large patches of purple down the fronts of Prince's back legs. That particular antiseptic spray always made things look a whole lot worse than they usually were, she knew that, but still got a bit of a shock. She preferred the amber-coloured iodine-based antiseptic products.

Tash led Prince the few metres to the yard, gave him a solid pat on the neck, unclipped his lead rope, and closed the gate. She draped the rope over the rail and strode back to where Jessica stood, now in quite a bit of pain.

‘He's a nice horse,' Tash said, briskly. ‘And he was going so well. He's really come along.' She paused. ‘So what are you going to do – turn him out?'

‘I don't really have any other option.' She really couldn't afford to send him to one of her fellow eventing competitors' stables to be kept up to standard, it would cost a fortune. And, anyway, she didn't like the idea of someone else being able to take some of the credit if she did well down the track. She'd always been stubborn and pretty independent, well, except for having her dad as coach.

‘If you want to sell him on while he's at his peak, Sharon Parks is looking for something at two-star level.'

‘Oh, right, well, I'm not sure I …'

‘No pressure, just a suggestion. You think about it.'

What would Dad recommend? As much as horses were for leisure, at Jessica's level they weren't really considered pets that could be kept hanging around without being useful. And she'd get a whole lot more for Prince while he was in peak condition than if he'd been turned out for a few months. Jessica hadn't even thought of getting rid of Prince before this moment, and now was in a dilemma. Just what she didn't need, when her brain wasn't functioning very well at all.

‘Thanks. So much. For everything. I really appreciate it. I hope he didn't give you any trouble.' But it was just small talk – Prince was the consummate gentleman to handle and was never any trouble.

‘Nope, not a peep out of him,' Tash said. She shifted her feet and Jessica wondered if she was meant to offer payment – she seemed to be waiting for something.

‘Um, I'd offer you a cuppa, but I think you have an impatient chauffeur,' she said, nodding towards where hands could be seen drumming on the steering wheel of the ute. ‘What do I owe you?'

‘Not much, I'll do up an invoice – no rush.'

‘Oh. Okay, thanks.' Well, what had she expected? Jessica and Tash knew each other and were friendly, but they were not friends. This was business, not a favour. Still, it did hurt a little that someone couldn't do something for nothing. She would have, without hesitation.

‘Well, I'd better keep going. But let me know if you want to sell. Perhaps Sharon can come and have a ride here or take him for a few weeks' trial,' Tash said with a shrug.

Jessica felt a surge of annoyance – how dare anyone think she'd move Prince on so quickly. God, she hadn't lost a leg, only fractured an ankle!

‘Honestly, Tash, it's too soon for me to even think about – I'm still trying to get my head around this,' she said, lifting her plastered leg slightly and nodding down at it.

‘Fair enough, but you'll get the most for him while he's in peak,' Tash replied with another shrug.

Is there a sentimental bone in her body?
Jessica wondered. ‘Thanks, I'll think about it.' What she wanted to say was
Why the hurry – are you expecting a commission, or something?
But of course Tash would be – it was how those at the top operated. Favours were rarely done for nothing.

‘Okay then, you look after yourself. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you.'

‘Thank you. And thanks so much, again, for everything. I really appreciate it.'

‘No problem. We all do what we do.' Tash walked over and got into the passenger's side of the dual cab and, with a wave out the window, was heading back down the drive in a cloud of dust.

Now what? She'd said she'd check Prince over, but the fact was she wasn't sure she could hobble that far, given the immense pain she was in. And she really shouldn't get in with him if she was so unstable on her feet – he only had to give her a friendly nudge and she'd be on her arse, unable to get up again. Besides, Tash had made it clear Prince was fine.

At that moment he whinnied. In response, Beau lifted his head and cantered the length of the paddock.

A few minutes later when Steve pulled up, Jessica was still watching the happy reunion, ignoring the painful throbbing in her leg and the ache in her hands from clutching the crutches.

‘So he's back then?' Steve said by way of greeting as he pecked her on the lips. ‘That was quick – she didn't stay for a cuppa?'

‘No.'

‘He looks happy enough.' Jessica knew Steve was thinking the scrapes didn't look too good, but didn't want to say anything lest he cause her more concern.

‘His legs look worse than they are. Tash assured me it's superficial,' she said.

‘Shall I put the float away then?'

‘Thanks.'
And could you clean out any manure if there is any?
she wanted to say, but while she liked to keep everything in pristine condition, the sky wouldn't fall in if a small pile of horse dung was left in the float.

‘So are all the stock okay?'

‘Seemed fine. Anything else to do for the horses? I'll unpack it, shall I – just put everything in the laundry to sort out later?'

Jessica smiled to herself. Clearly he'd been taking note of her after-event routine. But a sizeable part of her didn't want her riding things in full view where they'd be a constant reminder of her not being able to ride. She knew she should get him to bring her saddles in to be cleaned. She could probably easily enough sit and do that, but she wasn't in the mood. Anyway, she had the next six weeks sitting around; she'd do it later. Meanwhile, the tack area of the float was as good a place as any for them to stay.

‘Actually, would you just put the saddles and bridles on the rack in the tack room and lay the saddle cloths over top? And just plonk the rugs on the bench.'

‘No worries.'

She waited to see if the dogs would stay with her or go with Steve before heading back inside. They went with Steve.

Jessica felt guilty about having Steve doing her work, but that was all but forgotten as she sank onto the sofa.
God, this thing is heavy to lug around
, she thought as she raised her ankle and positioned the pillows under it now she had the couch all to herself.

Just as she got settled, the pain started up – a deep, piercing throb. She checked her watch. She was allowed another lot of painkillers. And she would take some if they weren't in her handbag on the floor a metre or so out of reach. Perhaps if she closed her eyes she could nap through the pain. She pulled down the throw rug lying across the back of the sofa and spread it out over her, as her mind drifted to the events of the previous day.

Jessica wasn't one of those people who looked for the sympathy vote with long stories full of minute and gory details about injuries to herself or her horses. She figured what was done was done; you just had to get on with things. She did, however, like spending plenty of time among lots of minuscule details during post-comp debriefs with her father, Tiffany and, to a lesser extent, friends who were also competitors. They would literally spend hours going over each dressage movement, each fence, twist and turn in the cross-country and show jumping rounds – what had gone right, what had gone wrong, how to approach improvement for next time.

Today she didn't want to think, let alone talk, about any of it – she didn't want the reminder of so badly letting Prince down and bombing out and of the big hole the loss of her father had left, which in her current state might see her fall apart. So when the phone on the coffee table chirped just as she got herself to the point of slipping into sleep, startling her wide awake again, she thought she'd let the answering machine take it. She half-listened as the electronic American voice told the caller no one was home and to leave a message.

‘Hey Jess, it's Tiff …'

Jessica snatched up the phone and pushed the green button to speak to her best friend. ‘Hello. Hey Tiff, I'm here,' she said, practically shouting into the phone.

‘Oh God, are you okay? Sorry, but I didn't get Steve's message until way late …'

‘It's so good to hear your voice,' Jessica said. She let out a sigh and lay back further into the plush leather.

‘So, how bad is it?'

‘Thankfully, just two fractures to the ankle. In plaster for six weeks – well, it's fibreglass, but you know what I mean. And I'm already sick of sitting around not being able to do anything.'

Tiffany laughed. ‘But darling, it's only day one.'

‘Tell me about it,' Jessica groaned. ‘I've got poor Steve out there emptying the float and I feel terrible.'

‘Why?'

‘Well, the horses are not his interest, it's hardly fair.'

‘Yes, but sweetie, in sickness and in health … I say enjoy having a wonderful man prepared to do these things without complaint – it's called love and devotion. And, anyway, you'd do the same for him. So you just relax and rest up and make the most of being a sloth.'

Jessica felt another twinge of guilt. Poor Tiffany had lost her fiancé, Todd, in a car crash a short while ago. Jessica yearned to help her friend more, but one of the things she loved most about Tiffany was her fierce independence. After losing Todd, she'd stayed with Jessica and Steve for a couple of weeks before finding a rental she could afford on her own. And, anyway, there really wasn't anything anyone could do – it was all about time. Tiffany said that herself, regularly. Jessica admired her courage and ability to stay positive. She probably would have run home to Mummy – if she still had one – and moved back permanently.

It was far too soon to even think about, but Jessica wondered how likely it was that Tiffany would find two lovely men who would adore her in one lifetime. She just hoped her dear friend would be the lucky one.

She dragged herself back from her memories. Tiffany was right: there was nothing she could do about her situation, so she might as well make the most of it. Her problem was minor compared to what Tiffany was dealing with.

‘So how's the pain? Is it okay?'

‘Okay with the Panadeine Forte. But that won't last long. They don't give you a prescription – just twenty tablets – at the RAH. If you need more you have to go to your GP. But the last thing I want to do at the moment is leave the house.'

‘Hey, I've got some leftover – and I think another script; should still be good to go – from when I had my ear infection over Christmas. You can have them, if you like.'

‘Oh, that would be great.'

‘So, do you need me to come over, like right now? It's just I've managed to score a few days in the feed store. But I can ask to start late next week if you need me.' That was Tiff, as always, putting everyone else before herself – or trying to. She was so desperate for work that Jessica couldn't put her new job in jeopardy just to have some company.

‘No way, don't you dare put your life on hold for me; I'm fine. Thanks, though. And what wonderful news on the job – well done, you!'

‘It's only the feed store, but it's something. And the staff discount will be a big help.'

‘So how did you go yesterday?' Jessica said, suddenly remembering Tiffany had had her own important event. Tiffany was passionate about dressage.

‘Really well: a first and two seconds.'

‘That's great!'

‘Yeah, and scored high enough to qualify for the state champs. Not sure I'll be bothered going, though.'

‘Even still. Oh, wow, we should be cracking open the champagne!'

‘Not with you on painkillers, young lady,' Tiffany scolded playfully.

‘Hmm.'

‘So, seriously, is it really painful?'

‘A bit at the moment; I'm due another couple of pills. But I'm more exhausted than anything else – I couldn't sleep in the hospital. I'm planning a nap real soon.'

‘I'd better leave you to it then.'

‘You don't have to, I'm fine.'

‘I'd better go and get ready for work.'