Loving Spirit

never went out anyway, only ever spending time with Joeor 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 insideher 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 bucketand 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 himback 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.