Loving Spirit

down and put her arm over his neck, torn between her hopes and her doubts. ‘I told Uncle Len I’d get Picasso in the box. I hope I did the right thing.’
    As she settled down in the straw and leant againsthis solid shoulder, she felt a bit calmer. At least she had a plan now – there was something she could try.
    But would it work? Would she be able to talk to Picasso? Would she be able to get him into the lorry?
    She heard Joe’s voice in her head: You’ll never get Picasso in. Stuart and I have been trying all day .
    She hugged Spirit tightly. Tomorrow she would find out.

Chapter Thirteen
    When Ellie finally got to bed that night, she slept fitfully, waking up every couple of hours. She heard the birds start to sing and saw the sky just starting to lighten. There would be at least an hour until everyone else was out on the yard. Maybe she should get up now and see if she could get Picasso into the horsebox before anyone else got up? The more she thought about trying to get him to load, the less she wanted an audience.
    Trying not to make a sound, she crept down the stairs and out on to the yard. As she opened the door to the pony barn, there was a chorus of whinnies and the banging of hooves on doors. ‘Later,’ she told the other ponies as she hurried down the aisle. She fetched four long padded travelling boots and Picasso’s headcollar.
    The bay pony was very surprised to see her. He regarded her suspiciously.
    ‘It’s OK,’ she murmured, putting everything down.‘There’s nothing to worry about.’ She let her mind clear and concentrated on sending out all the warmth she could. She imagined it wrapping round the bay pony, soothing and comforting him.
    For a while nothing happened, but then she caught him starting to glance at her more and more often. Not warily now, but curiously.
    She tried not to think of anything but him. I’m here. I’m listening , she told him in her head.
    Gradually the feeling in the stable started to change. It was almost as if the air flowing around them was slowing down. She didn’t get thoughts or feelings or pictures as she did with Spirit, but she got a sense of gradual connection – of some sort of link – between them.
    Picasso seemed to feel something too. He came over and when she held out her hand he sniffed at it, breathing in and out.
    ‘You’ll be OK, Picasso,’ she whispered. ‘I promise. Just trust me. I know why you’re scared of the horsebox and there’s really no need to be. There’s no snake.’ Shutting her eyes, she sent him pictures of the horsebox, showing him there was no snake, showing him it had been his tail bandage touching his legs.
    He snorted. She waited, hoping something more would happen. But nothing did. Standing up, she folded back his rug and ran her hands over him,stroking him all over. He accepted her touch, and as she returned to his head he lifted his muzzle to her face. She breathed gently into his nostrils and he breathed back.
    Ellie ran a hand through his mane, thinking hard. She might not be talking to him in the way she did with Spirit, but she was sure there was some sort of connection between them. Maybe it would be enough? Maybe her thoughts had got through?
    She hesitated. She would have liked to spend several days seeing if she could talk to him properly like she did with Spirit, but she didn’t have the time. The deal was that she had to get him to load today. Should she risk it and try? It would be far better to do it while there was no one on the yard wanting to interfere. Yes , she decided. I’ll risk it .
    The yard was still deserted. She ran to the car park and let down both the side and rear ramps of the horsebox before going to fetch Spirit from his stable. He whinnied when he saw her coming.
    ‘This is it, boy,’ she whispered. ‘I’m going to try and get Picasso in. I hope this is going to work.’
    She led him down to the lorry, feeling a flicker of nervousness as she remembered how he had refused to load that day at the horse sale. But the relationship between them had grown immensely since then, and now he followed her up the ramp without hesitation.
    Ellie’s heart swelled as she realized how much he had changed in five weeks. Leaving Spirit pulling at one of the haynets that Stuart had put in there for the journey that morning, Ellie fetched Picasso. As they approached the horsebox, the bay pony tensed.
    It’s OK , she told him, letting him stop and placing a hand on his neck.