Loving Spirit

as she waited for her uncle to reply. Each second felt like an hour, and then Len nodded.
    ‘A deal’s a deal. He can stay. He might even prove himself useful.’
    Ellie gasped. As her uncle and Luke walked away, Joe jumped on to the ramp.
    ‘That’s brilliant! Oh, Ellie. You did it!’
    ‘I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!’ Ellie’s voice rose and she hugged Spirit. ‘You can stay!’ she told him joyously.
    ‘Dad’s coming back,’ warned Joe.
    Ellie swung round. Fear suddenly gripped her. Her uncle hadn’t changed his mind, had he?
    He pointed his finger at her. ‘You’d better go and get your show clothes. And, Joe, tell Stuart to get that pony plaited up. You’ve both got a show to go to.’

Chapter Fourteen
    The next few hours passed in a blur for Ellie. Almost before she knew it, she found herself in the cab of the horsebox, travelling to the show with Joe and Stuart, while Len and Luke followed in one car and Eliza and Carey, Len’s clients, followed in another. Barney, Picasso, Darcey and Alfie were groomed to perfection, their gleaming coats and neat plaits protected by smart maroon rugs and hoods. They were wearing special leather show headcollars with maroon leadropes, and all the horses apart from Picasso had matching maroon tail bandages. Ellie had explained that it would be better not to put a tail bandage on him from now on. Even Spirit, who was with them to keep Picasso calm, was rugged up. ‘I’m not having a horse coming out of my lorry that doesn’t look smart,’ Len had said as he’d sent Ellie off to groom him quickly before they left.
    She could hardly believe she was about to take part in her first show in England. Part of her wishedshe could just be spending the day with Spirit, maybe taking him for another bareback ride, just being with him, enjoying the moment. But another part of her was full of excitement. Picasso looked amazing and she couldn’t wait to take him in the ring. And at least Spirit was there with her.
    The show was at a huge equestrian centre, with some of the classes held indoors and some out. While Stuart and Luke unloaded the ponies and got them tacked up, and Len went to register and pick up the numbers, Joe quickly showed Ellie around.
    There was an outdoor ring and two indoor rings, as well as a working-in area. Everywhere Ellie looked there were beautiful horses and ponies, their coats velvet-soft and shining, their tack gleaming in the March sun. People wandered around, chatting and talking on their phones. Small girls on beautiful lead-rein ponies were having red hair ribbons tied and their boots polished. In the working-in area, trainers were putting the practice fences up and down, and carrying round wicker baskets full of grooming tools.
    ‘That’s the working hunter ring,’ said Joe, pointing out a ring where a pony was jumping round a course of jumps for one judge, and then a further smaller ring where there was another pony performing an individual show for another judge. Joe checked the rider’s number. ‘We should go and work Picasso andBarney in and then come back and walk the course. Your class will be before mine.’
    They headed back to the horsebox and tacked the ponies up. Keeping their jeans and jackets on over their show clothes, Ellie and Joe worked them in with Len watching. Picasso was full of energy and jumpy, but gradually he calmed down.
    When it came to walking the course, Joe was a great help, pointing out where Ellie would need to take care, where she should push on and how many strides she should aim for between the jumps. Lots of the other riders seemed to know him and called out greetings.
    ‘You just want to mind the upright at the end,’ he told Ellie. ‘Picasso can get a bit full of himself when he thinks the course is over, and it’s the type of fence that will come down easily.’ Ellie took it all in. She felt as if she was bubbling inside; she couldn’t wait to get started!
    When she went back to the box, Luke was expertly putting the finishing touches to Picasso, adding a final layer of special black dye to his hooves and rubbing over his coat with a soft cloth. ‘He’s just about ready.’
    ‘Thanks,’ she said, glad that he had dropped his usual goading manner for the show.
    Spirit was tied up next to Picasso, looking around curiously. Ellie gave him a hug.
    ‘You’d better get ready too,’ Luke told her. ‘If you’re late for the ring, Len will kill you.’
    Ellie slipped into