Secrets (4 page)

Thank you for letting me help you
, Ellie told the horse.

Stepping back, she felt the connection between them close and she let herself out of the stable. She felt tired and energized at the same time. Talking to horses, healing them, took a lot of effort and concentration but left her feeling elated and she loved it. As she passed the other horses in their stalls, she stopped to pat each one. Those she had worked with before came to their doors eagerly. She stroked them, then finally left the barn and headed up to the fields.

Ten minutes later, Ellie was standing beside Spirit. The sun had set and the night was closing in. The woods that edged on to his field were dark with shadows. Wrapping her arms around his solid neck, Ellie felt a rush of emotions, happiness and sadness combined. Sadness that he would never be on the yard, like a normal horse again, a horse she could just open a stable door and see. Happiness that he was there and she could still talk to him and touch him. If she went to his grave to talk to him in the day, he would stay invisible although she could sense his presence and hear his voice, but when it was dark and no one could see them from the yard, he would appear to her, solid and warm, looking just as he had when he was alive only healthier and stronger.
Things haven’t really changed
, she told herself.
I just have to come out here to see him in the evenings. He’s still mine and we can still be together.
The more she told herself that, the more she believed it.

Shutting her eyes, she now rested her forehead against his neck.

You’re tired
. She heard Spirit’s concerned voice in her mind.

She nodded.
It’s been a long day.

Let’s go into the woods. I want to hear about it.

Ellie vaulted on to his back. Wrapping her hands in his mane, she felt her tiredness drain away and a new energy fill her.

The stone wall was ahead of them. Spirit broke into a trot and then a canter. Ellie felt his muscles gather and he lifted into the air. He cleared the wall easily before landing on the soft ground on the other side. She smiled as they slowed to a walk and started to wind their way through the trees. Ellie breathed in the scent of leaf mold as Spirit picked his way around the tree roots, branches cracking under his hooves.

So, what happened today?

Ellie told him all about the show—about the classes, about Luke, about Lexi. She felt Spirit’s approval as she explained how she’d been to the mare that evening, talked to her and given her as much healing as she could.

You have a gift. She will feel much better.

I wish I could have made you better
, Ellie thought.

Some damage can’t be healed,
Spirit replied softly.
You know that. And you did make me feel better. The end was better because you were there
.

Ellie felt tears sting her eyes. She didn’t want to remember that time. It had been so black.

I’m glad you came back to me and we’re together still,
she said.
That nothing’s really changed
.

Spirit snorted in agreement.

Where … where would you have gone?
Ellie asked curiously a few moments later.

Spirit sent a picture to her mind of him standing on a beach in front of a rippling silver sea. On the far side was a distant land. He was staring towards it and she could feel the pull across the water, but as she watched him standing there, he turned and walked back towards her.

Ellie’s fingers played in his soft mane. She could feel the contentment coming from him that he was here with her now. But did he wish he’d gone to that land? Did—

Walk in the present.
Spirit’s voice gently interrupted her thoughts.

Ellie sighed. He was right. He’d taught her once before that horses walk in the present, not worrying about the future or clinging to the past. It was a good way to be. She was here with him now. That was all that mattered. They carried on happily through the trees as the shadows darkened and the night birds started to call.

Chapter Four

ELLIE WENT INTO THE GRAY
stone farmhouse and found Len in the kitchen, taking a beer from the fridge. The kitchen in the farmhouse was large with an old pine table. The window ledges were covered with an assortment of horse and motorcycle magazines. Bags of feed supplements, boxes of crisps and crates of beer were piled up in one corner. The door to the lounge was open and through it Ellie could see the threadbare sofa and large TV. The house was fairly tidy but in no way as pristine as the yard.

She took off her boots, feeling the silence hanging heavy in the air. She rarely spoke to her uncle unless she had to.

Len flicked the bottle top off, using the opener attached to the draining board. “Where have you been?”

“Just outside.”

“It’s dark.”

Ellie shrugged.

Len’s gray eyes narrowed. “You’ve been moping over that grave again, haven’t you?”

Ellie prickled. “I’ve just been outside,” she said, trying to keep her voice level.

Len snorted. “That bloody horse of yours is dead. You’d better toughen up, lass!” He laughed and threw the bottle cap into the rubbish. “You’re soft in the head.” He marched through to the lounge to watch TV.

Ellie bit back the retort that jumped to her lips. Her uncle had as much sensitivity as a bulldozer. She wanted to go up to her room but first she knew she had to tackle him about Lexi. She went to the doorway. “The new horse. Lexi …”

“The gray mare?”

“Lexi,” said Ellie with a nod. “I think she needs to see a vet. I think she’s hurt her neck, behind her ears.” Her uncle nodded but to her relief didn’t challenge her. “Fine. I’ll call John in the morning.” He picked up the remote control and turned the sound up. It was clear the conversation was over.

Ellie escaped thankfully upstairs. Her room was on the top floor. Shutting the door behind her, she went to the window and tried not to feel too lonely.

“Get him moving forward! You’re riding like a sack of bloody potatoes!”

Len’s voice rang in Ellie’s ears the next day. She could feel the sweat prickling in her hair under her hat and soaking through the back of her blue T-shirt. It was almost lunchtime and the sun was blazing down. Picasso, the dark bay working hunter pony she was riding, was having one of his days where he seemed determined to throw her off. He’d started by sidling and shying and then had a massive bucking fit, dumping her on the ground. She could tell there was nothing wrong with him; he was just in the mood for playing up. He was the most beautiful pony and stunning in the ring, but he was highly strung and temperamental. Ellie had bonded with him and he had days now where he would nuzzle her and show some affection, but on other days the devil just seemed to be inside him and he would throw diva-like tantrums for no reason at all.

“Forward!” barked Len. Ellie used her legs so hard that Picasso plunged to one side. She was ready for him, though, and moved with him, pulling his head up, circling him around. If only it wasn’t so hot. There wasn’t a breath of air and she could feel the heat rising from Picasso’s dark coat. Her legs were aching and her hands damp with sweat.

“Rising trot! Work him on!” Picasso started to settle into a steadier trot, arching his neck as he admired his shadow on the ground. At the other end of the school, Luke was riding Troy, a large working hunter. As she passed, he teasingly held the reins in one hand and brought Troy from a canter to a smooth halt, as if showing off how easily it could be done.

Ellie glared. Troy was a gentle, affectionate horse, always eager to please. Totally different from Picasso.

Luke just grinned infuriatingly at her.

Len dragged out four low jumps. “Get rid of your stirrups,” he ordered Ellie. “You too, Luke. You can join in with that bay.”

Troy!
Ellie snapped in her head. She hated it when her uncle didn’t use the horses’ names. It seemed so disrespectful, as if they were just machines to him.

Bringing Picasso to a halt, she crossed her stirrups, her heart sinking. Even on a good day, Picasso had a tendency to buck when he first started jumping. She had a feeling she’d be hitting the floor again.

She was right. As she set off over the jumps, Picasso went faster and faster, and without her stirrups Ellie slipped in the saddle and lost her balance. When Picasso landed after the final jump, he threw his head down and bucked mischievously. She flew through the air and thudded into the sand.

Len swore. Catching Picasso, he brought him back over as Ellie got to her feet, slightly bruised and fed up, but not badly hurt. “That’ll teach you not to lose contact!” Len said.

Well, thanks for worrying if I’m all right
, Ellie muttered to herself. She met her uncle’s flint-like eyes and vaulted back on.

“Do it again. Do it right!” he said brusquely.

Ellie rode Picasso at the fences again. This time she stayed balanced and kept the contact, so was ready when he bucked at the end.

Her uncle gave a brief nod of approval.

He turned to Luke, who managed the fences perfectly on Troy, keeping in perfect balance with the horse and making it look easy.

“Nice work,” Len commented.

He made them ride over the fences again and again, varying the distances between jumps until he was happy with the way Troy and Picasso were going. “Right, take those animals up the lane.” Opening the gate, he marched back down to the yard.

“Animals!” Ellie exclaimed as she and Luke rode out. “Sometimes I think he would be just as happy with a business showing cars or tractors!”

“I know what you mean,” Luke agreed, letting Troy walk out on a loose rein. “The horses have always been a business to Len, but he used to enjoy being around them before—at least he seemed to. I don’t know when I last saw him ride just for pleasure, or even spend some time with a horse though.”

Ellie scowled. “He drives me mad!”

Luke gave her a sympathetic look. “It’ll be better when you can drive. Then you’ll have some independence and won’t be stuck here all the time.”

“Great,” Ellie groaned. “That’s only two years and a few days away.”

“Of course—it’s your birthday next week, isn’t it?” Luke realized.

“Thursday,” said Ellie.

“We’ll be at Hickstead. We’ll have to celebrate in style.” Luke chuckled. “Well, if you’ve managed not to end up in hospital by then. Picasso really had it in for you today.”

“I know! I wish Len was thinking of selling
him
, not Barney!” Ellie patted Picasso’s neck to show she was only joking. “I’ll really miss Barney if he leaves,” she went on, her thoughts turning to the chestnut pony. “I wish none of the horses ever had to be sold.”

“It’s the way it is here,” said Luke. “Don’t become too attached to them. If you’re going to be attached, get a horse of your own.”

Ellie frowned. “Why don’t you have your own horse?” She’d never really thought about it much, but suddenly she realized it was strange. It wasn’t about money—Luke’s parents were rich. Even though they had very little time for him, surely they would buy him a horse if he wanted one? She knew he’d loved the ponies he owned when he was younger because she’d seen how upset he’d been when he talked about two of them being put down.

Luke shrugged. “Guess I don’t want one.”

“But why not?”

“They break your heart.”

“That’s no reason for not having a horse!” Ellie protested.

“Isn’t it?” He gave her a look.

“No!” The pain Ellie had felt when Spirit died had been immense, utterly devastating, but she knew she would suffer that a million times rather than having lived without knowing and loving him. “You can’t live your life not loving just because you’re afraid of getting hurt!”

“Looks like I can.” Luke started to whistle annoyingly.

“Luke!’ Ellie felt anger rise inside her. She
knew
he wasn’t as cold as he was making out. Why did he have to put on an act? “You
don’t
think like that. I don’t believe you do.”

His voice was light. “Believe it.”

“Well, if it’s true, you’re a coward!”

A muscle jumped in Luke’s jaw. “Thanks.”

The sensible part of Ellie’s brain told her to just let it go—it was Luke’s life and he could live it as he wanted. But the rest of her seethed with frustration. She stared straight ahead at Picasso’s ears, hating him for saying what he had.

They didn’t speak for a while.

It was Luke who eventually broke the silence.

“You know,
you
should buy another horse,” he said suddenly.

“What?” Ellie was so surprised she forgot her bad mood for a moment.

“I’ve been thinking about it.” The angry look on his face faded. “It would be good for you. Why don’t you get one? You really should.”

Ellie stared at him, taken aback by his change of mood. But seeing the genuine interest in his eyes, she let herself consider the idea. For a moment, she imagined it, a horse that was just hers—one that no one could sell or take away. A horse she could do whatever she liked with. No. She felt suddenly disloyal. She didn’t need another horse; she had Spirit still.

“Well?” Luke pushed.

“I don’t need a horse. I … I haven’t got time for one,” she said quickly. “There are so many ponies to ride with Joe gone.”

“So get a youngster.” Luke waved his hand in the air, bulldozing the obstacles away. “I know. Buy the foal—buy Hope!”

“Hope?” Ellie echoed in surprise.

“Yeah! It would be perfect. I can’t believe you haven’t thought of it before. She’s a looker and bred for jumping. She should make about 15.2 hands high when she’s full grown, perfect for you. You could bring her on, do what you wanted with her, start riding her in a few years’ time. Maybe show jump her. You two have a real bond, anyone can see that, and it would mean you’d have your own horse for now but not one that would take up riding time. I reckon Len’s going to sell her soon; he only bought her because he wanted her mother. So why not do it?”

Ellie’s head spun. The thought of buying the foal filled her with delight partly because it was such a mad, unexpected idea! But why not? Her parents had left her money in their will. Her grandma was one of the people in charge of it, but she’d always said that Ellie could have money for anything reasonable—she’d let her buy Spirit. Surely she’d let her buy a foal. And Ellie hated the thought of Hope being sold on. “I could, couldn’t I?”