Loving Spirit (15 page)

It’s OK
, she told him, letting him stop and placing a hand on his neck.
Nothing’s going to hurt you. There’s no snake, I promise. It was just your tail bandage before and now Spirit’s in there
.

Spirit whinnied. Picasso hesitated and then stepped cautiously forward. Ellie walked beside him, not pulling or urging him, just murmuring soothingly. After a few steps he hesitated again.
Trust me
, she told him in her thoughts.

He walked forward. However, just as he got near to the ramp there was the sound of the back door opening and Joe, Luke and Len came out. She heard her uncle’s voice saying something, then their laughs. They walked over and Picasso swung round.

Oh, no
, Ellie thought, groaning inside.
Why did they have to come now?

‘Looks like we’ve come out just in time to see the horse whisperer in action,’ commented Len loudly.

‘Not that he’s keeping his ears still enough for her to whisper into,’ cracked Luke, glancing at Picasso’s ears that were moving nervously back and forth now they were there.

‘Let’s watch and learn then, lads,’ Len said, folding his arms across his chest.

For a moment, Ellie just wanted to run away. She couldn’t bear them all watching to see if she failed. But then she lifted her chin. She wasn’t going to fail. She also wasn’t going to rush. She saw Joe’s face, his eyes willing her on, and then she blocked out her audience. She talked to Picasso in her head.

It’s all right
, she told him.
We can take as long as you want
.

Gradually she felt him tune into her.

I won’t let anything hurt you. Spirit’s waiting for you. There’s nothing bad in the horsebox, I promise. You’ll be safe with me and Spirit
.

She hoped her words were getting through, wished he would reply as Spirit did. All she had to go by was the fact she could sense his tension was easing. His head lowered and he nudged her with his nose.

‘I’ll get behind him,’ offered Luke.

Ellie opened her mouth in alarm to stop him, but, before she could, Joe had grabbed Luke’s arm.

‘No! Ellie’s doing this on her own.’

Luke glanced down at Joe’s hand on his arm and then at his face. His eyes narrowed, but he stepped back. ‘What’s it to do with you?’

‘Just let her do it,’ insisted Joe. ‘Give her a chance. I bet she can.’

Ellie felt a rush of gratitude for his confidence.
Picasso’s eyes met hers and then he stepped towards the box. She kept him on a loose rein, just repeating over and over again in her head:
It’s OK. Spirit’s there. He’s waiting. There’s no snake
.

As they reached the ramp, Spirit called again. With an answering whicker, Picasso stepped on to the ramp and stopped. Ellie felt as if the world paused for a second and then suddenly, without a fuss, the pony pricked his ears and walked quickly inside.

Ellie stopped in front of him. Her heart was in her mouth. She could hardly believe she’d done it – she’d got him in! She heard Joe’s delighted exclamation, her uncle’s snort of astonishment, and then she came to life and started patting Picasso over and over again as he touched noses with Spirit. ‘Oh, good boy! I told you there was nothing to be frightened of. And thank you.’ She turned to Spirit and kissed his nose. He looked up at her through his long forelock and she kissed him again before swinging round in delight. Luke and her uncle were stunned. Ellie could have giggled as she saw their faces. Joe was grinning, jogging over.

‘That was brilliant! Well done, Els! I knew you could do it.’

‘No use just getting him in once, though,’ Luke called.

‘I can do it again,’ she said, needled. Touching Picasso’s neck, she led him back down the ramp and
walked him in a circle. Then she clicked her tongue and led him back inside. This time she had absolute confidence he would follow her and he did. He stopped and she tied him up and put the partition across. Then she turned and looked challengingly at her uncle.

He still had his arms folded, but now he was nodding slowly. ‘You did it, lass. Full credit to you.’

She knew from his face that he had never expected her to succeed and she felt a sweet rush of triumph.

‘It was a good idea to put that grey of yours inside,’ he went on. He looked at Spirit with narrowed eyes. ‘Stuart’s been saying the other horses like him.’

‘Can I keep him?’ Her heart was in her throat. She didn’t care that her uncle thought the only reason Picasso had loaded was because of Spirit; she just wanted the answer. Her heart thudded in her ears as she waited for her uncle to reply. Each second felt like an hour, and then Len nodded.

‘A deal’s a deal. He can stay. He might even prove himself useful.’

Ellie gasped. As her uncle and Luke walked away, Joe jumped on to the ramp.

‘That’s brilliant! Oh, Ellie. You did it!’

‘I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!’ Ellie’s voice rose and she hugged Spirit. ‘You can stay!’ she told him joyously.

‘Dad’s coming back,’ warned Joe.

Ellie swung round. Fear suddenly gripped her. Her uncle hadn’t changed his mind, had he?

He pointed his finger at her. ‘You’d better go and get your show clothes. And, Joe, tell Stuart to get that pony plaited up. You’ve both got a show to go to.’

Chapter Fourteen

The next few hours passed in a blur for Ellie. Almost before she knew it, she found herself in the cab of the horsebox, travelling to the show with Joe and Stuart, while Len and Luke followed in one car and Eliza and Carey, Len’s clients, followed in another. Barney, Picasso, Darcey and Alfie were groomed to perfection, their gleaming coats and neat plaits protected by smart maroon rugs and hoods. They were wearing special leather show headcollars with maroon leadropes, and all the horses apart from Picasso had matching maroon tail bandages. Ellie had explained that it would be better not to put a tail bandage on him from now on. Even Spirit, who was with them to keep Picasso calm, was rugged up. ‘I’m not having a horse coming out of my lorry that doesn’t look smart,’ Len had said as he’d sent Ellie off to groom him quickly before they left.

She could hardly believe she was about to take part in her first show in England. Part of her wished
she could just be spending the day with Spirit, maybe taking him for another bareback ride, just being with him, enjoying the moment. But another part of her was full of excitement. Picasso looked amazing and she couldn’t wait to take him in the ring. And at least Spirit was there with her.

The show was at a huge equestrian centre, with some of the classes held indoors and some out. While Stuart and Luke unloaded the ponies and got them tacked up, and Len went to register and pick up the numbers, Joe quickly showed Ellie around.

There was an outdoor ring and two indoor rings, as well as a working-in area. Everywhere Ellie looked there were beautiful horses and ponies, their coats velvet-soft and shining, their tack gleaming in the March sun. People wandered around, chatting and talking on their phones. Small girls on beautiful lead-rein ponies were having red hair ribbons tied and their boots polished. In the working-in area, trainers were putting the practice fences up and down, and carrying round wicker baskets full of grooming tools.

‘That’s the working hunter ring,’ said Joe, pointing out a ring where a pony was jumping round a course of jumps for one judge, and then a further smaller ring where there was another pony performing an individual show for another judge. Joe checked the rider’s number. ‘We should go and work Picasso and
Barney in and then come back and walk the course. Your class will be before mine.’

They headed back to the horsebox and tacked the ponies up. Keeping their jeans and jackets on over their show clothes, Ellie and Joe worked them in with Len watching. Picasso was full of energy and jumpy, but gradually he calmed down.

When it came to walking the course, Joe was a great help, pointing out where Ellie would need to take care, where she should push on and how many strides she should aim for between the jumps. Lots of the other riders seemed to know him and called out greetings.

‘You just want to mind the upright at the end,’ he told Ellie. ‘Picasso can get a bit full of himself when he thinks the course is over, and it’s the type of fence that will come down easily.’ Ellie took it all in. She felt as if she was bubbling inside; she couldn’t wait to get started!

When she went back to the box, Luke was expertly putting the finishing touches to Picasso, adding a final layer of special black dye to his hooves and rubbing over his coat with a soft cloth. ‘He’s just about ready.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, glad that he had dropped his usual goading manner for the show.

Spirit was tied up next to Picasso, looking around curiously. Ellie gave him a hug.

‘You’d better get ready too,’ Luke told her. ‘If you’re late for the ring, Len will kill you.’

Ellie slipped into the grooms’ quarters of the box and pulled off her old jeans. She had her show jodhpurs underneath. She replaited her hair in a single neat plait, put on her red tie, her brown jodhpur boots, her tweed jacket and leather gloves. Putting on her velvet hat, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were glowing.

Opening the door, she jumped down from the horsebox. Luke grinned. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

She nodded, for once almost lost for words with the excitement and nerves.

‘I love it too,’ he admitted. ‘It’s good having someone else here who enjoys it. I know Joe would sooner stay at home. I wish I was riding today.’ He undid Picasso’s headcollar. ‘Here. On you get.’

She mounted and went to check the girth, but Luke caught her arm. ‘No, wait. You’ll get grease on your gloves. Let me.’ He checked, running his finger between the girth and Picasso’s side. It wasn’t quite tight enough and he moved her leg forward, lifting up the saddle flap. As she looked down on his dark head while he hiked the girth up another hole, his shoulder holding her leg out of the way, she wished he could always be this nice.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

‘My pleasure.’ For just a moment there was the hint of his usual mocking expression, but then his face relaxed and he let her leg fall back into place. He swept the cloth over her boots where they had brushed against Picasso’s neck, removing the last specks of dust. ‘Just go out there and win.’

‘I’ll try.’ She clicked her tongue and Picasso moved off.

Spirit whinnied.

Ellie smiled. She knew it was silly, but she was sure he was wishing her good luck too.

As soon as Ellie rode into the ring, her nerves vanished. She cantered round, feeling Picasso’s eagerness. ‘Steady, steady,’ she breathed as they approached the first jump. He flew over, his ears pricked. Jump followed jump. She remembered Joe’s advice at the final fence and was ready when she felt him speed up. Now was not the time for one of his infamous bucks. Keeping him firmly in hand, she placed him perfectly at the fence. He cleared it by miles and she rode on strongly, keeping a good hold on his head. She ended the round with her heart singing. A clear round! Her uncle met her at the exit with a rare smile.

‘Good work, lass,’ he said, clapping Picasso’s neck.

There was a grey pony in the smaller ring, doing its
individual show for the second judge. In the individual show they had to walk, trot, canter and gallop. Ellie waited for her turn and, as the grey left, she rode in. Picasso performed beautifully, floating across the ground, his neck arched, reaching perfectly for the bit before doing a really fast gallop. Joe had told Ellie that Picasso loved being in the ring, and she could feel it exuding from the pony’s every pore. He made it easy for her to ride as well as she possibly could, speeding up and slowing down whenever she asked.

She finished by bowing to the judge, and then Joe and her uncle helped her whisk Picasso’s saddle off so she could lead him back into the ring for the judge to check him over one last time. Picasso stood like a statue and didn’t put a foot wrong as she then walked and trotted him in-hand. At the end of the class, all the ponies were called back into the ring together by the steward. They lined up and Picasso was pronounced the winner.

Ellie could hardly contain her delight as the judge hooked a red rosette on to the string that held her number in place and congratulated her. Her first show and she had won – or at least Picasso had! She led the lap of honour while everyone clapped loudly.

Getting out of the ring, she leapt off and hugged Picasso. The next second Joe, Luke and Len were congratulating her.

‘He was awesome!’ she gasped.

‘So were you!’ said Joe.

Luke grinned. ‘I knew you’d enjoy it.’

‘It was a good ride,’ said Len, nodding approvingly. ‘A very good ride.’

Ellie took Picasso back to the horsebox, glowing with pride, but her showing day wasn’t over. Later on she had to take him in the working hunter pony championship for the ponies who had been placed first and second in their classes. They came second overall in that and were presented with another even larger rosette for being Reserve Champion, even beating Joe and Barney who had won their class too.

Afterwards, Ellie and Joe rode the ponies back to the car park. They took it in turns to get changed in the living quarters and then rubbed Barney and Picasso down before giving them some water, rugging them up and settling them with fresh haynets in the lorry.

‘What a day!’ said Ellie dazedly as they went back into the living area and tidied up.

Joe grinned at her as he stowed their hats in one of the lockers. ‘And to think just a few months ago you wouldn’t even ride the ponies.’

‘Yeah.’ Ellie shook her head. So much had happened in the last few months. Spirit. The ponies. Everything. She remembered how she had felt when she first arrived at High Peak Stables, how desolate she had been.

Overwhelmed by the memory, Ellie rubbed her arm across her eyes.

‘Are you OK?’ Joe said, coming over and putting a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded, swallowing hard.

‘Really?’

As she glanced into his greeny-grey eyes, Ellie felt her stomach curl. They stared at each other for a moment and then Joe gently brushed a loose strand of hair back from Ellie’s face. Almost without realizing what she was doing, she stepped forward. He lowered his head instinctively and she rose on tiptoe to meet him.