Loving Spirit (8 page)

Ellie hesitated. She had absolutely no intention of ever selling Spirit on and trying to make money out of him, but she could see that telling her uncle this would get her nowhere right now. At least he was agreeing that she could keep the horse. That was enough. She’d deal with the selling part of the deal later. She nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘Let’s see him then,’ her uncle grunted. ‘See what sort of eye for a horse you’ve got. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve got yourself a bargain.’

He opened the door and Ellie followed him back outside, feeling nervous. What was he going to say when he saw Spirit? Joe was standing by the water
trough, pretending to scrub out a bucket. His eyes flew to Ellie’s face. She nodded quickly, trying to let him know it was OK. She took her uncle to the foaling box where Spirit was.

‘This is him, this is Spirit.’

As Len joined her at the door, Spirit shied back in alarm. He stood at the back of the box, head high, body trembling. Ellie saw him through her uncle’s eyes – his ribs standing out like a toast rack, his dull coat, his scarred legs and shoulder.

‘Oh, flamin’ heck.’ Len groaned. He shook his head and Ellie saw the bitter disappointment in his gaze. ‘Well, you won’t be getting your money back on that. Best you can hope for is to get a bit more meat on his bones and sell him to the knackers for a better price.’ He glanced down at her. ‘Still, a deal’s a deal. You ride the ponies, you get to keep him for six weeks.’

‘How much shall I pay you?’ Ellie could hardly quite believe it.

‘You can have his stabling and feed in exchange for riding for me. Vets and farrier bills, you pay.’ Len turned away. ‘Oh, and by the way,’ he shot over his shoulder, ‘you’re grounded for skipping school.’

Ellie didn’t care about being grounded. She never went out anyway, only ever spending time with Joe
or on the yard, and all she wanted now was to be with Spirit, feeding him up, grooming him, looking after him. That night she went out straight after supper. There was a strong wind blowing and she had to fight her way across the yard, the gusts buffeting her, whipping her breath away as she walked. But inside Spirit’s stable it was warm and peaceful. Sweep, who had left the barn now, had found the new straw bed Ellie had put down and was curled up contentedly in the corner under the manger, while Spirit pulled at his haynet hung on the back wall, unbothered by the kitten’s presence. He jumped anxiously as she slid the bolts back, but relaxed and whickered softly when he realized it was her.

‘Hey, boy.’ Ellie had brushed the worst of the mud off his coat after feedtime and put on a rug to keep him warm. He pushed his nose into her chest. She smoothed down his forelock, sending out waves of love. He might not look like anything now but he would soon look better. ‘I’ll make you well,’ she promised him. ‘And I’ll never sell you on, no matter what Uncle Len says.’

Spirit snorted and then moved back to his haynet.

Ellie sat down in the corner of the stall on the straw next to Sweep. Wrapping her arms round her knees, she imagined Spirit fit and healthy, the fear gone from his eyes. Every bit of stubbornness inside
her felt like it was focused into a fierce determination. She would do it. She
would
make him better.

When the alarm clock went off the next morning, Ellie blinked her eyes open and a single thought filled her head.
Spirit
. She sat up in bed as the events of the day before came rushing back. She caught her breath. It had all really happened.

Jumping up, she pulled on her clothes and ran down the stairs, hair unbrushed. As she burst out of the door into the dark winter morning, a few horses heard her and whickered hopefully, thinking it was breakfast time. Ellie took no notice. She raced to Spirit’s stable. He jumped nervously as she opened the door, but then his nostrils quivered in a nicker and he stepped towards her, moving like a ghost through the dim light. Ellie felt like throwing her arms round his neck but she didn’t want to startle him. Restraining the impulse, she made herself wait until he reached her and then she gently touched his face.

‘You’re real,’ she whispered in delight. ‘Oh, Spirit. You’re real!’ He lifted his muzzle to her face, blowing out. She breathed in and then gently breathed back. Her mum had told her it was the way horses greeted each other.

Spirit’s rug had slipped slightly in the night, so she straightened that and then refilled his water bucket
and kicked the straw back from the door. She’d muck him out later after feeding. She was going to be on the yard all day because there was a teacher-training day at school. ‘I’ll start grooming you later this morning,’ she promised him. ‘I’m going to make you look beautiful.’

But her uncle had other plans. When she heard him come on to the yard with Luke and Joe, she went to help them with giving out the feeds. Len pointed at her. ‘I want you in the ring with Luke and Joe at nine o’clock. You can ride Merlin to start.’

Ellie bit back the desire to argue. She couldn’t afford to annoy her uncle now. Instead she nodded.

He strode away and started dealing out the buckets of feed.

Just before nine, Ellie led Merlin into the ring and mounted up. His bay coat had been quick to groom and he had seemed to enjoy the attention. Luke was to ride Gabriel and Joe would be on Picasso. Gabriel was calm, but Picasso was fidgeting, moving constantly, staring in all directions.

‘Merlin will look after you,’ Joe said to Ellie as he fastened Picasso’s girth and only narrowly avoided the pony stepping on his feet. ‘Not like this nutter.’ He patted Picasso’s neck as he said it, and swung quickly into the saddle. Picasso leapt forwards but Joe moved with him, pulling him up and getting him
back under control. ‘Come on,’ he said, touching the pony with his heels. ‘Let’s get you working in.’ Picasso walked off with quick short strides.

Luke had already mounted Gabriel and was trotting round on a loose rein. Pip was sitting at the side of the ring, her eyes never leaving him, her pink tongue hanging out.

Ellie checked her girth and mounted. It was four months since she had last ridden but it didn’t feel strange at all. If she was honest, it felt like coming home.

She walked Merlin on. For a small pony, he had a long stride and was very well schooled. He didn’t ever go faster than he needed to, but he was obedient to Ellie’s aids and when she asked him to trot and canter he obliged cheerfully. By the time Len came into the school, she was trotting and cantering circles.

He strode into the middle and watched her for a few moments. ‘Looks like you can sit on a horse, anyway,’ he commented.

From having watched him coaching Luke and Joe the past few weeks, Ellie knew that was about the most of a compliment she could expect. Still, at least it was better than him criticizing. She patted Merlin’s solid neck.

Len got them all riding round together. It was basic stuff – circles in walk, trot and canter, transitions through all three paces, serpentines and loops. Ellie
had done everything before in lessons with other teachers, but she had never known anyone as demanding as Len. Every circle had to be perfectly round, every transition dead on the marker. But she was determined to get it right. It wasn’t in her nature to do anything half-heartedly, and even though she disliked her uncle she was going to meet her half of the deal. After all, Spirit was at stake.

Ellie found that when she was riding it helped to try to see her uncle just as a riding coach. Although he was tough to please, it was clear that he knew a lot and her own desire to prove her ability pushed to the fore. She concentrated hard and felt a determined sort of pride whenever she got a rare word of praise.

‘Turn in and halt!’ Len called to them all at last. He looked at Ellie. ‘You ride well. Let’s have you off that old pony and on to Picasso. Joe, take Merlin in and bring out Barney. We’ll do some jumping.’

Picasso!
Ellie glanced at Joe to see if he minded having to change ponies, but he didn’t look bothered. As she dismounted and they swapped, he smiled. ‘You’re doing brilliantly.’

‘Thanks.’ Ellie took Picasso’s reins. ‘Any tips?’

‘Sit deep,’ warned Joe. ‘He’s got a big jump on him and he might throw in a buck or two the first few times over a fence. He’s not like Merlin – you’ll need to watch out for yourself. See you in a minute.’ He
led Merlin out, and Ellie adjusted the stirrups and then mounted Picasso. He felt totally different to ride. Now Joe had ridden him in he had settled down, but it still took only the slightest touch of her legs to make him increase his speed. He pulled at the bit. She kept her contact light, riding him forward but not letting him go too fast. The first time round the ring he tested her out, shying away from the fence and shooting towards the gate, but she sat deep as Joe had said and within seconds had him back on the track at the side of the ring. She patted his neck as she rode him round at a brisk trot. He felt like a mini-racehorse, bristling with energy.

Len was putting out some jumps. He set out a grid of three low fences, with a stride between each one. ‘All right then. Off you go, Luke. Take it at a trot.’

Luke trotted Gabriel round, the usual careless look in his blue eyes replaced by an intense concentration. Gabriel tried to speed up but Luke sat deep in the saddle, his long legs wrapping round the horse as he slowed him down instantly. The bay horse responded and trotted over the jumps, taking them easily in his stride, with Luke light in the saddle. Luke patted his neck. Then it was Ellie’s turn. She could feel her breath shorten with excitement. She loved jumping. She wished she could canter, but she held Picasso back at a trot as her uncle had instructed, even
though, like Gabriel, Picasso tried to rush. At the last moment she freed his head and they bounced easily over all three jumps. She was glad Joe had given her a warning about sitting deep. As they landed over the final one, Picasso put his head between his knees and bucked. She was ready for him and sat down hard, pulling his head up and turning him in a circle before he could try again.

An uncharacteristic smile briefly touched Len’s face. ‘Well sat. Bring him round again.’

As Ellie rode past Luke, she saw that he was grinning. ‘Thought he was going to have you off there.’

Yeah, and then wouldn’t you have laughed
, thought Ellie. But actually she was enjoying the ride too much to feel annoyed by Luke.

Len had her go round two more times at a trot before letting her canter over the fences, and then he changed the distance. ‘One stride at the first and second, two at the third now. Get them listening.’

And so the lesson went on. After warming Barney up at the far end of the ring, Joe joined in.

After a while, Len got them to halt and then took one jump out and raised the poles on the others to well over four feet. They looked very large. ‘Don’t worry,’ Joe said, glancing at Ellie. ‘This won’t be for us to jump. This’ll be for Luke. Dad won’t risk the ponies’ legs jumping that high.’ He patted Barney’s neck. The mischief in Barney gave him a wonderful
merriness when he was being ridden. Ellie wondered when she would get to ride him.

Suddenly the deal she had struck with her uncle didn’t seem quite so bad. She’d always loved going in shows on Abbey. Now she was riding for her uncle, would she get to ride Picasso or Barney, or maybe some of the novices in showing classes for him?

Ellie watched as Luke cantered Gabriel round, getting him steady and ready to jump. Although the fences were big, Luke didn’t show a flicker of nerves. He cantered the horse towards the fences, effortlessly found the right place to jump from, and Gabriel soared over them.

‘Well done!’ Ellie called impulsively as Luke clapped a hand on the horse’s neck and cantered easily back to her and Joe.

Luke pulled Gabriel to a halt. ‘Fancy a go?’ he challenged.

Ellie met his stare. ‘Why not?’

Her uncle’s voice broke in. ‘Not a bad idea. Let’s see what you can do. Hop up on Gabriel and have a try.’

Ellie saw Luke’s face register astonishment. She swung round and looked at her uncle at the same time as Joe protested beside her.

‘Dad! You can’t get Ellie to jump four and a half foot on a strange horse.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that!’ Len gave Ellie an appraising look. ‘Come on then.’

For a moment Ellie hesitated and then nodded. ‘Sure,’ she said coolly, throwing her leg over Picasso’s saddle and jumping off.

She caught a flicker of surprise on her uncle’s face, and in that instant realized he’d been expecting her to refuse. The knowledge fired her up and she handed Picasso’s reins to Joe. It was a bigger jump than she had ever done before and she’d never ridden Gabriel, but she’d do it.

‘Ellie, you can say no,’ Joe whispered quickly, shooting a look at Len who had gone to stomp down some of the rough surface in front of the jump.

‘Don’t listen to him,’ Luke said, sliding off Gabriel. ‘Go on. Do it.’ An amused smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

‘Ellie, don’t be stupid,’ Joe said in a low voice. ‘At least ask Dad to put it down.’

But pride and adrenaline were surging through her. ‘I’ll be OK.’

She took the reins from Luke and mounted. After Picasso, Gabriel felt very big. Len was back in the middle now, watching her shrewdly, arms folded as she quickly adjusted her stirrups, checked her girth and then rode off. She concentrated on the horse’s long stride, trying to force her nervousness down. She could see from her uncle’s face that he was still expecting her to pull out. Luke probably was too. But that just made her even more determined – there
was no way she was going to give either of them the satisfaction.
Just watch this
, she thought.

‘Now?’ she called, glancing across at Len.

He nodded. Ellie clicked her tongue and felt Gabriel surge into a canter. He might be big but he was obedient and, despite his size, he felt easier to ride than Picasso. Ellie remembered all her mum had ever taught her about jumping. Ride at the middle of the fence, look up, keep your legs on. Fear spiked through her for a moment. She’d jumped Abbey lots but this was different.

You can do it
, she told herself.
You can
.