Loving Spirit

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, overhis 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. Whatever 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,