and cantered on round the school, the breathleft Ellie in a rush. Her adrenaline faded and she felt her legs get suddenly shaky, but she’d done it! Trying not to grin like an insane Cheshire cat, she slowed Gabriel down and looked triumphantly at her uncle.
‘Not bad, lass,’ he said and smiled approvingly.
Ellie rode Gabriel up to join the others. Joe looked very relieved. ‘That was brilliant. You were awesome!’
I did it, I did it! the words sang inside her head.
‘Right, Picasso and Gabriel have done enough. Swap back and take them out for fifteen minutes on the lanes,’ Len told them. ‘Joe, you stay in here. Barney can do a bit more.’
Ellie and Luke rode out of the school, through the courtyard and down the bumpy lane, letting the horses walk out on a loose rein to cool them down.
‘You’re a dark horse then,’ Luke said, glancing across at Ellie. ‘I thought you must be scared to ride when you created so much fuss about riding the ponies.’
Ellie shrugged and looked down at Picasso’s mane. ‘Yeah, well, you thought wrong.’
She was pleased that Luke seemed to be looking at her with new eyes, but it still didn’t mean that she wanted to be his friend. She wasn’t prepared to forget the kittens or his arrogant behaviour, or his comments about Spirit.
She could feel his eyes on her for a long moment, and then he laughed and got out his phone. The nextminute he had started texting one-handed, completely unconcerned.
Ellie ignored him and concentrated on Picasso’s neck, stroking his mane.
She and Luke got back to the yard without exchanging another word.
Chapter Seven
Ellie was kept busy all morning. Her uncle told her to ride Milly and then Gem. Milly was bouncy, eager for action, a roller coaster of a pony. Gem was quieter and needed a lot of reassurance and encouragement, his eyes as wide as Bambi’s as he stared cautiously around the ring, seeing ghosts everywhere. As Ellie put their tack away, she thought how much more purpose her day seemed to have now she had Spirit and was riding the ponies.
Before Stuart had his lunch, he watched as Ellie trotted Spirit out and confirmed what Joe had thought – that Spirit was lame in his left shoulder. ‘It’s probably the result of a fall or a knock. Let’s rest him for the week and then see how he is. If he’s still no better, then we’ll call the vet. But maybe it’ll right itself.’
‘What about his tendons?’ Ellie asked. She’d noticed they were slightly swollen.
‘Try poulticing them for a few days. There’s somekaolin in the first aid cupboard. Do you know what to do?’
Ellie nodded. Her dad had shown her how to poultice legs two years ago. She saw him in her mind’s eye – his dark head by the horse’s leg, looking up as he gave her instructions – and she felt grief flood through her again. She fought it down, her hand methodically stroking Spirit’s neck, trying to hide her feelings. Spirit pushed against her gently with his nose as if sensing her unhappiness. She swallowed, focusing on him, forcing away the pain.
‘Apart from that, he just needs some good feeding,’ Stuart went on, shaking his bald head. ‘There’s more fat on a chip than on him. I’ll sort him out some boiled barley and linseed jelly. Plenty of good hay should help too.’
‘Thanks, Stuart.’ Ellie was grateful. Stuart could have been just as dismissive as her uncle, but he seemed keen to help Spirit and make him better.
Taking Spirit back to his stable, she set to work grooming him. He was calmer now than he had been and let her groom him. She brushed his coat with a dandy brush and then detangled his mane and tail, pulling out the burrs as gently as she could. After that, she started on the hard work of grooming him with a body brush and curry comb.
Spirit lowered his head as she pushed the brush over his coat again and again, cleaning the bristlesevery few strokes. It was quiet and peaceful in the stable and Ellie lost herself
1796-1874 Agnes Strickland, 1794-1875 Elizabeth Strickland, Rosalie Kaufman