Loving Spirit Page 8

  Sighing, she finished the stable and went down the field to catch Spirit. The mud was thick around the gate and the short winter grass slippery underfoot. Three of the horses were trotting around near the bottom of the field, one nipping the others, making them buck and throw their heads up. Spirit was staying out of trouble as usual, grazing peacefully. Gem, Wisp and Picasso were beside him. Ellie had noticed that the quieter horses often seemed to gravitate towards him. She called out his name, but in the rain he didn’t hear her. Ellie began to squelch through the mud and across the grass. ‘Come on, boy!’ she called, not wanting to have to walk all the way down the field.

  Spirit noticed her and, pricking his ears, he started to head towards her, but as he did so something startled the three horses near the bottom of the field. They leapt forwards. Gem, Wisp and Picasso’s heads flew up at the sound of the others and they began to canter. The six horses were caught up in each other’s alarm. Ellie stopped, but her feet slipped on the wet ground. She felt herself bang down on her side as her fingers closed on mud. There was a yell from behind her.

  The next few minutes seemed to happen in slow motion. Pushing herself up on her arms, Ellie saw the six horses galloping straight for her through the rain, too caught up in each other’s fear to notice her lying there. Even if they did see her, it would be too late for them to stop. Ellie cried out and curled up into a ball, bracing herself.

  She felt rather than saw Spirit reach her. Before Ellie knew what was happening, her eyes blinked open to see Spirit standing over her, his legs on either side of her body. She felt his strong reassuring presence as the other horses thundered by. They broke into a trot as they finally realized there was nothing to be scared of, and Ellie heard their snorts and the sound of their hooves slowing as they began to circle round, tails high.

  Ellie’s heart hammered against her ribs. For a moment she was too shaken to move. Her eyes flicked from side to side and then Spirit stepped carefully over her, picking his hooves up high so he didn’t touch her at all. He stopped at the side, his head by hers.

  Ellie slowly uncurled and sat up. Spirit nudged at her with his muzzle, anxiously touching her knees and her face as if checking she was OK. The rain dripped from his eyelashes and down his face.

  ‘Ellie! Ellie! Are you all right?’ She looked round. Joe was running down the field through the rain.

  ‘Yes.’ Putting a hand on Spirit’s leg, Ellie struggled to her feet. Her own legs felt like jelly. ‘Yes, I’m OK.’

  Joe reached her, his face pale. ‘I was by the gate. I saw what happened. I thought you were going to be trampled!’

  ‘Spirit saved me,’ Ellie stammered, as she kept stroking the grey horse over and over again.

  ‘I know,’ Joe said in awe. ‘He just stood in their path and they went round him. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  Ellie swallowed. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered to Spirit.

  Together, the three of them walked up the field, Ellie holding shakily on to Spirit’s mane.

  For the rest of the day, she thought about what her horse had done. He’d seen her fall, stood over her, shielded her and protected her.

  ‘You’re amazing,’ she told him gratefully when she went to his stable after supper. The rain had now turned to sleet. The fields were waterlogged and it was freezing cold. Closing her eyes, she put her arms round Spirit’s neck and hugged him. She was so tired. It had been a very long day. She’d planned to give Spirit a proper groom but now she just couldn’t find the energy. Instead, she just stood there, stroking his head and neck, too exhausted to do anything but be with him. He sighed contentedly, his eyes half closing as she ran her hands over his forehead and down his nose and cheeks.

  She didn’t know how it happened, but very gradually Ellie became aware of a shift in the atmosphere around them. She couldn’t describe the feeling exactly, but it was almost as though there was a field of energy surrounding each of them and it was somehow merging. She opened her eyes and saw that Spirit was staring straight at her. As their gaze met, a connection flared and Ellie was aware of images and feelings coming into her mind. She saw the tall figure of a man at a stable door and fear ran through her. The bolts on the door pulled back with a loud metal clang and the man stood in the doorway, whip in hand. She knew she wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. Leaping forward, she was stopped by the manger. The man shut the door behind him and approached, the whip raised, his eyes angry. She tried to jump past him but heard the whistle as the whip came slashing down; she felt the terror as it hit her neck, a searing biting pain –

  No!

  Ellie blinked and recoiled. The pictures stopped.

  She stared at Spirit, her heart thumping, the feelings of terror fading as she realized she was in the stable with him. What had just happened? Those awful pictures in her head …

  They’d seemed so vivid, so real. Shakily, she reached out a hand and touched Spirit’s face again. It was as though she had seen into his mind – seen his memories, seen why he was now so scared when the door bolts on his stable were pulled back. But that was impossible.

  Ellie shook her head. Yet even as the logical part of her mind protested at what had just happened, an instinctive deeper part of her knew it was true – as true as the fact that sleet was falling outside the stable.

  She hesitated and then threw herself open again to the feeling.

  Spirit? she thought, half-wondering what she was doing.

  There was the same shift in energy …

  The whip slashed down again and again. She wasn’t Ellie any more. She became Spirit, feeling what he had felt, seeing what he had seen. As the whip beat into her, she felt his unbearable pain and confusion. I didn’t mean to be bad. I didn’t understand. Stop, please, stop!

  The memory suddenly changed.

  Cold, wet, hungry. Outside. She could feel the wind blowing down the mountain, feel the ache in her legs as she trudged up an uneven hill in the rain. There was a heavy rider on her back, a beginner, he was unsteady and she could smell stale beer on his breath. His hands grabbed at the cold bit, using the reins to balance his weight. ‘Gee up, you lazy devil!’

  I’m trying. Please, I’m trying.

  Spirit’s back – her back – was hurting. Her tendons were sore from overwork. She stumbled, one shoe loose. The man slapped her again with the whip.

  Get off me. The thought swelled through her mind as the whip fell again, and this time she couldn’t bear it any longer; she reared up. The man’s weight fell to one side, his hands yanking at the bit. Tired, weak and hungry, she hadn’t strength enough left to stay on her feet. She twisted in the air, crashing down on the stony ground, landing with her whole weight on her shoulder – and the man.

  Lying there, she heard the chaos, the people from the trekking centre yelling, the man being pulled out from underneath, swearing and clutching his leg. The rain beat down and the people shouted …

  Ellie opened her eyes. The air in the stable was very still. Neither she nor Spirit was moving. It was as though they were standing together in a spotlight, the rest of the world having faded to black around them.

  She stared at him, horror sharp inside. ‘All the things that people have done to you.’

  Spirit regarded her steadily. Putting her hands on the left side of his neck where she had felt the first whip blows, she stroked down, wishing she could change what had happened and take away the pain. No horse should ever have to feel like that. Not ever. Ellie shuddered at the memories. Now she knew how he had felt, it was almost too much to bear. Undoing his rug, she stroked gently over his whole body, sweeping down over his shoulder where he had fallen, across his back that had been so sore, over his ribs which had been so bruised. Spirit stood absolutely still until she reached his head again and then he snorted. His eyes were softer than she had ever seen them. He nuzzled her and then stepped away, taking a long drink before going to his haynet. Ellie rugged him up, functioning on autopilot, not thinking, just doing. Whatev
er had just happened was too big for her to get her mind round quickly. She fastened the front buckle of his rug, rested her head against his for a moment, and then kissed him.

  ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ she whispered, dazed.

  She hurried into the house, thankful not to see anyone as she took off her boots and coat. She ran all the way up to her room, washed in the bathroom and got into her pyjamas. Then she got into bed and lay there, letting herself start to think about it all.

  She didn’t know how but she was sure she’d seen into Spirit’s mind. He had sent her pictures and thoughts. In his own way, he had communicated with her.

  She shook her head. But how? How? How?

  Deep down, though, she knew that right now how wasn’t important; what mattered was that it had happened. And it had. It really had.

  Curling up on her side, Ellie put her arms round her knees. Pictures flooded through her mind, thoughts, questions. She replayed the whole thing. She knew now why the sound of his stable door opening scared Spirit so much. She knew why his shoulder was scarred. She knew part of where he had come from – where he had been. Would he communicate with her again? She hardly dared to hope.

  Don’t be stupid, she told herself. There’s no way it will happen again.

  But what if it does?

  It was a long, long time before Ellie got to sleep that night.

  Chapter Nine

  The harsh sound of the alarm pulled Ellie from a deep sleep. Eyes still shut, she reached for the clock, but then suddenly everything from the night before flashed into her mind and her eyes shot open. Spirit!

  Remembering what had happened, she threw back the covers, furious with herself for not waking earlier. If she’d got up sooner, she could have gone down to his stable and seen if the same thing could happen again. But it was too late now. In fifteen minutes everyone would be out on the yard.

  Pulling on some clothes, she hurried outside, desperate for a few moments alone with Spirit. It was bitterly cold still, but the rain and sleet had stopped. The horses were looking over their doors, banging their hooves impatiently against the wood as she ran past. The cats came trotting past the puddles, tails high, mewing at the thought of breakfast, but Ellie ignored them all.

  When she reached Spirit’s stable, she was taken aback by how ordinary he looked. He had straw in his white tail and his stable rug was hanging slightly to one side. But what had she been expecting? That’d he’d have sparkles floating round him or something?

  However, as their eyes met, Ellie saw an understanding there and suddenly she knew with an absolute, unshakable certainty that the evening before had happened just as she remembered it. She touched Spirit wonderingly. She couldn’t quite get her head round it, but suddenly her life felt totally different, almost as if she had discovered a completely new colour. She and Spirit had somehow connected. What now? It was as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down from a great height, not knowing what was beneath her or what would happen if she jumped.

  ‘What happens next?’ Ellie asked him helplessly.

  Outside, she heard the sound of stable doors opening on the yard and people calling to each other. She couldn’t stay long with Spirit now or she’d be in trouble.

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ she whispered to him. Trying to compose herself and look normal, she headed to the feedroom.

  Ellie might have tried to look normal but her thoughts were all over the place. She got shouted at for mixing up Gabriel and Hereward’s feeds and then for tripping up with a wheelbarrow and spilling dirty straw all over the yard. When she started riding, Picasso sensed her distraction and played up, snatching at the bit and repeatedly shying away from one corner of the school.

  Len watched in the centre, his face growing darker by the second. ‘You’re riding like a sack of ruddy potatoes. Get him together! Come on!’ His voice rose. ‘Make him go into that corner! NOW!’

  Ellie used her legs hard. Picasso’s ears flattened, but he decided not to argue any more. However, a little while later when she started thinking about Spirit again he decided to throw in a buck and she almost flew over his head. Taking advantage of the fact that she had lost her reins and balance, he shot off down the school, swerving round Luke on Starlight.

  Len exploded with a string of swear words as, red in the face, Ellie grabbed her reins back and sat up.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Ellie!’ Len thundered. ‘Get your act together! You’ve got your first flamin’ show to go to in three weeks.’

  ‘If we can get him into the lorry,’ muttered Joe, who was schooling Wisp at the end of the school. Picasso had refused to go into a horsebox since his aborted visit to the show.

  Joe gave Ellie a look of sympathy as she turned Picasso round, but Luke just grinned at her as she rode back up the school, her heart in her boots. ‘You’re going to have to ride better than that,’ he said.

  Face still red, Ellie kept her attention on Picasso and rode him into place again behind Starlight.

  Len continued to shout at her all lesson and she was very glad when it was time to take Picasso in.

  At lunchtime Ellie breathed a massive sigh of relief as everyone else headed off the yard and she had a chance to be with Spirit on her own. Her fingers shook as she took off his rug. What was going to happen? Would it be like the night before? Would she be able to communicate with him and see his memories?

  She was so excited she found it hard to stand still. She tried touching his neck, but although he nuzzled her shoulders nothing happened. She moved impatiently to his head and stroked his face, waiting for some pictures to come into her mind. But none did. She ran her hands over him. Come on, come on, she thought. Talk to me, Spirit. But there was nothing. Eventually Ellie stood back, disappointment lying over her. It wasn’t happening.

  She tried to remember what she’d been doing when it had started the evening before. I was just standing with him, she realized, standing still.

  Spirit was pulling at his hay now. Ellie faced him, one hand either side of his neck as he pulled and chewed. Shutting her eyes, she breathed slowly in and out, until the impatience drained away and she was left with a feeling of calm. The space inside her where the energy had been buzzing filled with thoughts of Spirit.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  She thought about wanting to help him. Thought about wanting to take away his pain.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Standing there, Ellie became vaguely aware that Spirit had stopped eating and was now standing still too. She could feel him breathing, her hands still resting on his neck. A warm glow seemed to wrap around them both.

  I’m here, she told him, the words coming from deep inside her without her even thinking about them. I’m listening.

  A connection surged between them again. Memories came into her mind. Like the night before, they weren’t hers, but she could see them as clearly as if they were. She saw the same mountainside and felt the weight of the man on her back again. She felt the rain driving down and the rough stony ground under her hooves.

  Was this where you were before you came here? she asked him.

  Yes.

  Ellie started, her eyes opening involuntarily. She stared at Spirit. She had asked him a question and he had answered her!

  Pushing away her wonder, she shut her eyes and let her mind go blank again. The pictures filled it straight away. She saw a tumbledown row of stables, a steaming untidy muck heap sprawling over cobbles, a stony yard littered with weeds, loose straw and bale string. The yard was in a valley, with tracks leading up steep mountains. Horses hung their heads over the doors, not with pricked ears and eager expressions like the horses on her uncle’s yard – these horses looked empty-eyed and defeated. An aura of sadness and pain surrounded them all.

  In her mind, Ellie interpreted what she was seeing, turning the pictures into human words. It was a trekking centre in the mountains. You weren’t treated well, she thought to Spirit. You weren’t fed much, were
you? You and the other horses were in pain and tired?

  Waves of energy rolled off Spirit as he answered her. Yes. Yes.

  More pictures shifted through Ellie’s brain as he showed her what it had been like. People coming to ride. Beginners who sat heavily in the saddle. The riding stable owner and a groom who worked for her, shouting at the horses. Never checking them for injuries or aches. Never offering them kindness. The only soft word coming from the occasional trekker who stroked them and offered love.

  I tried so hard. Ellie could feel deep in her heart what Spirit was saying. I wanted to be good.

  She could feel his hunger, feel his pain, feel the ill-fitting saddle pressing into his spine and the rub of the rough, grass-encrusted bit in his sensitive mouth. She could hear the shouts in his ears, while all the time he had just wanted to please. It was almost too much to bear.

  Instinctively she hugged him. Spirit pushed his nose against her back. She stood for a long moment, drawing up all the strength she had and trying to give it to him.

  After a few minutes he breathed out deeply, a sigh of release and relief.

  He stepped back and she felt the connection weaken. She knew he’d had enough for the moment.

  Ellie leant against the stable wall. Again she had the same feeling she’d had that morning, the feeling of life having somehow shifted. It was as though she was now looking at it from a different angle. She had no words to explain quite what was happening between them but she knew that her life would never be the same again.

  She was no longer standing on the edge of the precipice; she had well and truly jumped off.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Joe! Joe!’

  Joe had been collecting empty haynets. Ellie raced up to him. ‘I’ve got to talk to you!’

  ‘Why?’

  Ellie hesitated. How did she start? I can talk to Spirit …. Joe would think she’d gone mad. Spirit’s telling me stuff … That was just as bad.