The Thirteenth Horse Page 9

  Kristy thought of Cassius standing alone in his muddy field, his thick winter coat wringing wet, and she shivered. Percherons were bred to be hardy, but this rain was torrential. Emma would probably leave the others in until it stopped. There was one spare stable. Surely Cassius could use it, just this once? Kristy chewed a fingernail. If she was quick she had time to race over to Mill Farm and bring Cassius in. She pulled on her jeans and warmest jumper and crept down the hallway to the kitchen. As she passed her parents’ room she could hear her dad snoring softly. She scribbled them a note, grabbed her waterproof coat and a woolly hat and slipped out of the front door.

  By the time she arrived at the yard her eyelashes glistened with raindrops and her jeans were soaked through. She found Emma in the barn hefting a bale of straw onto a wheelbarrow.

  ‘I didn’t think you were riding this morning?’

  ‘I’m not. I was worried about Cassius. I wondered if he could go in the empty stable, just for today?’ Kristy said breathlessly.

  ‘I was going to bring him in anyway.’ Emma waved her hand at the straw. ‘I was just getting the stable ready.’

  Kristy took the handles of the wheelbarrow. ‘I’ll do it. You sort out the others.’

  Emma frowned at the pewter-coloured sky. Rain bounced off the yard and pooled in dips in the old concrete. ‘I’m going to leave them all in until it clears. They’ll probably go stir crazy but it can’t be helped. Filthy weather,’ she muttered.

  Kristy pulled her hood over her hat, tucked her chin into her chest and pushed the wheelbarrow out of the barn. Horses and ponies watched over their stable doors as she negotiated the puddles. She could just make out the strains of their quadrille music over the sound of the rain and glanced over at Jazz, who looked as serene as a summer’s day. They’d ridden to the music the previous morning and to their delight the mare hadn’t flinched. Their plan seemed to be working, although Emma grumbled that she’d been put off classical music for life.

  Kristy shook out the straw and filled a haynet and water bucket. She fetched Cassius’s headcollar and ran down to his field. He was tucked up against the hedge, sheltering from the worst of the rain. Kristy splashed through the mud and felt his coat. It was sodden but he felt warm underneath.

  Once he was in the stable she found an old towel in the tack room and dried him off as best she could. Emma appeared with his breakfast and handed it to Kristy, who set it down in front of him.

  ‘I’ve got to take one of the liveries to a new yard this afternoon so I won’t be back until at least five. Will you be OK getting them all in?’ Emma said.

  ‘Of course,’ said Kristy. She’d brought all twelve horses in on her own a couple of times before and, although it was time-consuming, the horses were always ready to come in for their supper so she’d had no problem catching them.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll muck out the ponies so you don’t have to do them, too.’

  Kristy checked her watch. It was a quarter past seven. ‘I’d better go.’ She kissed Cassius and gave Emma a grateful smile. ‘Thank you. I hated the thought of him out in this weather.’

  ‘No problem. I’m not going to be able to sell my star quadrille horse if he’s caught a chill, am I?’

  Kristy felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak, before turning on her heels and fleeing. She ran across the yard and down the long gravelled driveway, tears mingling with rain on her pale cheeks. As she hurried home she tried to pull herself together. Emma had always made it clear that she was planning to sell Cassius, and Kristy knew that that their time together was finite, yet it had been easy to ignore the truth. Over the last few weeks Kristy’s every waking hour had been dominated by the quadrille. When she was with Sofia, Norah and William it was easy to fool herself into thinking she was just another owner who stabled her horse at Mill Farm. They were part of the gang. It was easy to pretend Cassius was hers.

  She reached the steps to their apartment and ran an impatient hand across her face. She had to face facts. She was the hired help and no matter how many hours she slogged away mucking out other people’s ponies she would never be able to afford her own. And it sucked.

  A STRONG WESTERLY wind had blown away the rainclouds by the time Kristy trudged back up to the stables after school. The yard was empty, which was no surprise. Most of the owners were fair weather riders, and they tended to stay away when it was cold and wet. Even Sofia and the twins had decided to stay at home.

  Emma had been as good as her word and had mucked out all thirteen stables. Kristy mixed the feeds, following the list tacked onto the wall in the small and dusty feed room. Silver whinnied at the sound of the clattering buckets, which seemed to set off the others, so by the time Kristy came out they were careering around their fields, their hooves cutting into the mud like scythes through grass, their manes and tails rippling in the wind.

  Kristy decided to get the horses in first and grabbed Viking’s leather headcollar. The big bay warmblood shared a paddock with Jigsaw, Emma’s handsome skewbald gelding. The two horses were charging up and down the post and rail fence as if their lives depended on it. As Kristy opened the gate Viking spooked at her and lost his footing in the mire. His legs started to buckle under him and for one terrible moment Kristy thought he was going to come crashing down.

  ‘Steady!’ she called. His legs scrambled wildly as he fought to regain his balance. To her relief he managed to stay on his feet. Jigsaw slid to a halt next to him, blowing hard. Kristy held Viking’s headcollar behind her and took a couple of steps towards them. They last thing she wanted was for them to take off again.

  She reached out a hand and the bay gelding sniffed it cautiously. She slipped the lead rope over his neck and slid his headcollar on before he had even noticed.

  ‘Silly boy. You could have really hurt yourself.’ She stroked his neck and looked at him sternly. ‘Emma said you’d all go stir crazy and she was right. Have the lot of you been charging about pretending to be wild mustangs all afternoon?’

  Viking followed her meekly out of the field and into his stable. She ran her hands down his legs but could feel no heat. ‘Thank goodness for that. No harm done.’ Kristy sighed with relief. ‘Now for the others.’

  One by one she led the horses in, picked out their feet and changed their rugs. Silver whinnied impatiently every time she passed his field, so she brought him in next, then Jazz, until just Copper and Cassius were left.

  She slung Copper’s navy blue headcollar over her shoulder and marched over to his field. The chestnut gelding was standing with his back to her in the far corner. She called him. Usually he would wander over but today he stayed where he was. Kristy sighed. Bringing the horses in was taking way longer than she’d thought it would.

  When she drew nearer and Copper still didn’t come over Kristy felt a prickle of foreboding. ‘Come on, Copper, it’s time for supper,’ she called. The chestnut gelding turned to watch her but still didn’t move. Kristy knew something must be wrong. Colic? she thought wildly. But horses with colic pawed the ground and kicked their stomachs, didn’t they? Then she realised with horror that the bottom of his wide blaze was tinged with pink.

  And his near foreleg was caught in the wire fence.

  18

  TRAPPED

  K risty spoke softly as she approached the chestnut gelding. He pulled at the fence and squealed in pain as the wire tightened around his fetlock.

  ‘Oh Copper, what have you done?’ Kristy murmured, assessing the damage. His white sock was stained red and Kristy could see a flap of skin hanging loose just below his fetlock. It would need washing out and dressing. But her priority was to free him from the fence. Otherwise every time he pulled he would cause more damage. She ran a hand down his damp neck as she worked out what to do. Copper must have pawed the fence and somehow his hoof had slipped through one of the squares in the stock wire attached to the post and rail fencing. As he had panicked and tried to pull away it had closed
like a vice, cutting into his skin.

  Talking to him softly, Kristy ran her hand down his leg. She worked at the wire with her fingers, untwisting and loosening it. When a crow flew right over their heads, cawing loudly, Copper flinched and pulled back, undoing all Kristy’s work. She started again, concentrating on de-tangling the wire, trying hard not to look at his poor broken skin because every time she did she felt a wave of queasiness rise in her stomach.

  ‘It’s OK,’ she whispered. ‘You’ll be OK. I just need to -’ Copper shifted his weight and the wire tightened again, this time trapping Kristy’s fingers against his fetlock. She gasped in pain and sank to her knees. A sob rose at the back of her throat. It was no good. They were both trapped like rabbits in a snare. They’d have to stay where they were, enmeshed in the wire fencing, until Emma arrived home. Kristy craned her neck to look at her watch. It was half past five. Emma might not be home for an hour at least.

  The sob escaped and Kristy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh Copper, what can I do?’ she wailed.

  At the sound of her voice the chestnut gelding lowered his head and blew into her hair. It had an instant effect, snapping her out of her misery. He had been in agony for goodness only knew how long, yet he was being so brave. And here she was, giving up and crying like a baby.

  Pull yourself together, Kristy, she told herself sternly. You can do it. Using her left hand, she concentrated on one small section of the wire, tugging and twisting, flexing and bending it until her fingers were sore and her breath was coming out in gasps. She could sense the wire weakening and upped her efforts.

  After what seemed like an age the wire broke in two. Kristy felt blood rush back into her fingers. She eased Copper’s foot out of the fence and set it gently on the muddy ground.

  Standing up stiffly, she led the gelding slowly across the field, swivelling her head back every couple of paces to check he was OK. Miraculously, he didn’t seem to be lame, although Kristy knew it was crucial she cleaned out the wound so it didn’t become infected.

  Once they were back in the yard she tied Copper up outside his stable, gave him a haynet and began hosing down his leg.

  He shook his head as the cold water trickled over his fetlock.

  ‘It’s freezing, I know, but I need to make sure there’s no mud in your cuts,’ Kristy told him.

  When the water was running clear and Kristy was satisfied she had cleaned the wound thoroughly she turned off the hose and bent down to examine the wound.

  What to do now? she wondered. Should she bandage it or leave it open? She remembered the first aid kit for horses Emma kept in the tack room and sprinted across the yard to fetch it. Inside were poultices and cotton wool, dressings and packs of saline solution, a thermometer and various antiseptic gels, powders and sprays. She picked a wound powder, a non-stick dressing and a bandage and ran back to Copper.

  She was carefully bandaging his fetlock when Emma pulled into the yard in her horse lorry.

  The older woman’s face turned pale as Kristy recounted what had happened and she ran a hand through her hair. ‘Thank goodness you found him when you did!’

  ‘I’ve washed it out as best I could. Will you check it’s OK?’

  Emma nodded. Kristy stroked Copper’s nose while Emma knelt down, untied the bandage and inspected the cut.

  ‘Good job, Kristy. It looks clean to me. I don’t think the cut needs a stitch and there’s no swelling there. I can’t feel any heat, either, and he’s up-to-date with his tetanus. We’ll keep him in for a few days and keep an eye on it. But I’d say he’s been pretty lucky. The cuts are superficial. And he’s got you to thank. I dread to think how much damage he might have done if you hadn’t freed his leg.’

  Kristy waved off the thanks. ‘Anyone would have done the same,’ she said. And then a terrible thought struck her. ‘Do you think he’ll be OK for the quadrille?’

  Emma rested a hand on Copper’s withers and gazed into the middle distance. ‘Honestly? I don’t know.’

  WILLIAM’S FACE was stricken as he climbed slowly out of his mum’s car, Norah close behind him. His normally mischievous eyes were red and puffy and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

  Kristy touched his arm. ‘He’s going to be fine.’

  William nodded mutely. ‘I know. Emma said. Sorry Kristy, but I just need to see him.’

  Kristy joined Norah and they watched him disappear into Copper’s stable.

  ‘He looks really upset,’ said Kristy, surprised.

  Norah gave a little shake of her head. ‘Copper means the world to him. I know you’d never guess, but he’s as soft as marshmallow under that jokey exterior.’

  Kristy took a deep breath. ‘Emma said he might not be fit to ride in the quadrille.’

  ‘I know.’ Norah’s voice was heavy. ‘I told you we were doomed to fail.’

  KRISTY SAT in the library and piled her books on the desk. She had a mountain of homework to do, but she couldn’t tear her thoughts away from Copper and his poor leg. If only she’d noticed him standing by the fence not moving, when all the others were galloping around like lunatics. Emma was treating her like some kind of hero, yet she might have been able to stop Copper getting his leg stuck in the first place if she’d decided to get the ponies in first.

  She was half-heartedly flicking through her English textbook when Sofia sat down next to her, followed closely by Norah and William.

  ‘We need to have an emergency meeting,’ Norah whispered out of the corner of her mouth. ‘To talk about what we’re going to do if Copper isn’t better in time.’

  Kristy fiddled with the zip on her rucksack. An idea had occurred to her the previous evening. She had examined it from all angles and although it grieved her heart to say so, she knew it made perfect sense.

  ‘William should ride Cassius,’ she blurted, avoiding an annoyed glance from a studious-looking boy sitting one desk along.

  ‘What?’ Sofia exploded.

  ‘It’s the only solution,’ Kristy said. ‘I drop out, William rides Cassius and you ride as a team of three.’

  Kristy could see Norah’s mind whirring furiously. ‘That could work. The routine wouldn’t be as symmetrical but that doesn’t matter if we -’

  ‘No,’ said William firmly.

  The studious-looking boy shot them a filthy look, gathered his books and stalked off to a desk at the far side of the library.

  ‘Why not?’ said Norah incredulously. ‘After all, we only asked her in the first place to make up the numbers.’

  ‘Norah!’ said Sofia, her eyes wide.

  Kristy gave them all a wan smile. ‘She’s right, though, isn’t she?’

  William rounded on his sister. ‘Kristy is as much a part of the team as I am. As you are. Why should she give up her place for me? If it hadn’t been for her, Copper might have damaged his leg so badly I might never have ridden again.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Sofia, staring Norah down. ‘If Kristy doesn’t ride, neither do I.’

  Norah was silent.

  ‘And think about it. Quadrilles are for four people, that’s the whole point of them. If we only field a team of three we’d probably get eliminated anyway.’ William nudged his sister in the ribs. ‘So Kristy stays, OK?’

  Norah lifted her shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. ‘Alright, Kristy stays. But I don’t know what we’ll do if Copper isn’t sound in time.’

  ‘We’ll assume he’ll be alright and we’ll carry on practicing,’ said Sofia. She looked around at their worried faces. ‘He’ll be OK, I’m convinced of it.’

  Kristy wasn’t a natural pessimist, but she had seen Copper’s torn fetlock and she found it hard to share Sofia’s optimism.

  19

  SISTERS AND RIVALS

  W illiam was back on his favourite yard broom for their training session on Saturday afternoon. He had found another piece of music by the same composer for them to ride to.

  Norah gathered them in the middle of the school and asked them in
turn what they were working on.

  ‘I’m still getting Jazz used to riding to music. She’s so much better than she was, but I want her to get to the stage where she doesn’t even notice it’s playing,’ said Sofia.

  ‘I want to practice my twenty metre circles and serpentines, making them as even as possible,’ said Kristy. Like many horses, Cassius favoured his left rein and sometimes tried to swing his quarters out on his right rein, losing the shape of his circle. When she’d asked Emma for advice on how to fix the problem, Emma had told her to keep her inside leg on the girth to keep up momentum, and her outside leg back to stop him swinging his quarters out. She was keen to put it into practice.

  Norah said she wanted to run through the ten metre circles from the centre line.

  ‘What about you, William?’ she asked.

  William patted the handle of the broom and smirked. ‘I don’t really need to practice anything. My mount is pretty well perfect. I’ll just run through the routine with him.’

  Norah harrumphed. ‘Perfect indeed! Well, make sure you don’t get under our feet.’

  They were so engrossed in their own drills that they didn’t notice the door to the school open and a figure slip in. Kristy was completing what she hoped was a passable serpentine when she trotted past and pulled Cassius up sharply.

  ‘Karen!’ she squeaked. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Even though Kristy had a considerable height advantage, Karen still managed to look down her nose at her.

  ‘I gather Mill Farm is entering a team for the quadrille. I’m presuming you’re it?’

  Sofia and Norah rode alongside Kristy and William ambled over, trailing his broom behind him. Kristy, trapped by the full force of Karen’s glare, gave a small nod.