Page 13 of Wild Horses

Christy stood in the stable yard, leading rein in hand, her thoughts a cocktail of anticipation and dread.

Today she would be leading her first equine therapy workshop.

There would only be half-a-dozen students, and they were all beginners, but she still felt daunted.

The horses snorted and shuffled within their stalls.

Christy slid the heavy doors open, their metal latches clanging in the stillness of the morning.

Her hand trembled slightly, as one by one she led the horses out and readied them for the class.

Maggie would have been teaching this group had she been fit.

Instead, she perched like a bird of prey on a nearby log bench, crutches resting against her legs.

Her presence was a tangible reminder of the awful accident Christy had caused upon arrival.

Maggie’s glare was icy enough to further chill the already chilly morning.

‘Let’s hope you’re better at this than you are at riding,’ said Maggie. Christy groaned. How was she supposed to gain the kids’ confidence with Maggie undermining her in front of them like that? It was like having to put up with Sandra Williams all over again.

Christy tried to brush off the comment, focusing on the teenagers gathering before her with a mix of curiosity and caution in their eyes.

‘Welcome, everyone.’ She’d tethered a string of six carefully selected horses to the yard rails – one for each of the students.

Clare had helped her choose the best matches.

‘You might be wondering how spending time with these magnificent animals can help you?’ Christy patted Honey’s shining chestnut neck and the mare turned to her with a soft nicker. ‘Well, let me share the magic of these gentle giants.’

Christy soon found she didn’t need her rehearsed words.

‘Horses are incredibly sensitive and intuitive. They sense our feelings and emotions, often reflecting them back to us.’ She paused, allowing her words to sink in.

‘Their unique ability allows us to become more aware of our own emotional state.’

Christy had the class’s attention now. She gently stroked Honey’s mane, demonstrating the calm approach they would all need today.

‘Through working with horses we learn about trust and the importance of clear communication. These are powerful lessons that apply not just here, but in every aspect of our lives.’

She looked around at the group, making eye contact with each teen, ensuring her message was being received, then cleared her throat. ‘The beauty of horses is that they don’t judge – they accept us as we are.’

‘When do we get to ride them?’ asked Bree, a red-haired girl of about fifteen.

‘It’s not all about riding, although you’ll discover that’s a real thrill. It’s first about bonding with the horses through grooming, feeding and groundwork exercises. These activities help us to silence our negative internal chatter, focus on the present moment, and build authentic connections.’

Christy felt a rush of satisfaction – almost the same sort of satisfaction she felt when teaching drama. For many of the kids standing before her, building human connections was a bridge too far. Horses might well provide them with a safe place to start.

She began with a basic introduction to horse behaviour, emphasising safety and respect.

However, her nerves betrayed her. When demonstrating how to approach a horse from the near side, she mistakenly walked into Patches’ blind spot.

The normally placid gelding startled and sidestepped, nearly knocking Christy over.

A collective gasp rose from the students.

Rattled but determined, Christy moved on to the next part of the lesson: leading a horse using a halter and lead rope.

She selected roan Tango – the horse she’d been learning to ride on, known for his patience.

In her haste, Christy didn’t attach the lead rein properly.

As she led Tango forwards, the clip slipped free, leaving Christy holding an empty, swinging rope while a bemused Tango wandered off.

A murmur of amusement rippled through the teens.

She made other errors: grabbing the lead rein too close to Spirit’s head, causing him to toss his head and almost step on her foot.

Having a tug-of-war with Daisy, who was more interested in the grass at the edge of the arena than cooperating.

Each tug on the rope was met with stubborn resistance, turning the exercise into a comedic display of human versus horse willpower.

The mistakes were minor, but in Christy’s mind, they snowballed, each adding weight to her self-doubt. And Maggie’s critical gaze bored into her, eroding her confidence. To make matters worse, Leo arrived leading Lofty.

‘Can we join the class?’

She looked uncertainly at Lofty. The big gelding seemed calm enough, and she was loathe to make Leo feel rejected. She glanced at Maggie for some guidance.

‘I’d allow it,’ Maggie said, after a few moments’ consideration. ‘Have Leo tie Lofty well away from the others though.’

‘You heard Maggie,’ Christy said to Leo as she handed out curry combs and body brushes. ‘Tie him two horse-lengths away from Spirit. We’re about to begin grooming. But if Lofty misbehaves he’ll have to leave.’

Leo beamed at her and complied.

A mundane task like grooming was much more than it seemed on the surface.

When Clare had been training Christy she’d explained that grooming worked as a grounding exercise, much like mindfulness meditation or deep breathing.

Its goal was to anchor an individual’s awareness in the here and now, banishing intrusive thoughts and memories.

To be honest, Christy wasn’t exactly sure what Clare had meant.

The chattering died down and the group began their task, some tentatively and others with more enthusiasm.

Christy noticed how the horses provided immediate feedback to the students, mirroring their emotions.

Jayden was the most nervous, a boy fixated on the overdose death of his brother six months ago and still mired in grief.

Grim-faced, he jabbed his curry comb at Tango, standing as far away as possible.

The horse tensed and swished his tail, clearly uncomfortable.

Christy urged Jayden a step closer. ‘Like this.’ She guided his hand to make long firm strokes along Tango’s back. Tango immediately relaxed, leaning into the comb and closing his eyes.

Jayden sensed the change in the horse and his face lit up. ‘I think he likes me.’

Christy smiled. ‘I think he does.’ She was beginning to see how this worked. Grooming encouraged the kids to slow down, stay present, and pay attention to their horse’s feelings.

She walked along the line of horses, making a suggestion here, giving praise there.

Maggie, who only seemed interested in the class when something was going wrong, sat in the shade of the verandah glued to her phone.

Miss Po Face could do with some mindfulness herself, thought Christy as she helped Bree brush Spirit’s tail.

The arrival of a hay delivery truck startled Lofty, who became increasingly agitated.

Leo untied the big bay, looking flustered and struggling to calm him.

In her attempt to help, Christy approached too quickly.

To her horror Lofty snorted and reared, his hooves flailing dangerously close to Leo’s head.

In a moment that seemed to suspend time, Lofty loomed over them.

Yet Leo showed remarkable composure. Instead of panicking, he soothed Lofty with his voice, then stepped back, offering the horse space to settle, his body language exuding calm.

Lofty sensed the shift and came back to earth, his breathing steadying as Leo stroked his neck.

Christy apologised, her heart in her mouth.

Leo held up his hand. ‘No, no – that was all my fault. I showed Lofty I was worried. As soon as I switched back to confidence, he calmed right down.’ He stroked the horse’s velvet nose and whispered, ‘I’ll remember that, boy.’

The class watched in silent awe. Their most important lesson in horsemanship for the day had come not from Christy, but from the mutual understanding between Leo and Lofty.

‘Well done, Leo,’ called Maggie, casting Christy an amused look. ‘It seems that the student has become the master.’

The class ended and the students whispered excitedly among themselves as they dispersed.

Christy thanked Leo, who shrugged off her praise with a shy smile.

As she watched him return Lofty to his paddock, failure settled in her chest. Maggie’s hurtful comments, sharp as thorns, echoed in her brain.

She’d meant for her workshop to build a bridge between the kids and the healing power of horses.

Instead, she’d probably just frightened them.

Her mistakes had put a student in danger, and her competency was in question.

She could just imagine Maggie running to Clare with the news.

Christy remained at the stables long after she’d finished feeding and turning the horses out in their paddocks.

The weight of the day pressed down on her and the path forward seemed clouded.

She’d tried so hard, but, as Maggie loved to point out, trying wasn’t succeeding.

Christy had an awful feeling that she was struggling to fill shoes far too large for her.

Tyler stood in the shade of a spreading blue gum and watched Leo.

His son sat on a log beside the paddock fence, stroking Lofty’s muzzle while the horse’s eyes half-closed in contentment.

Leo’s face softened in a rare smile. The big bay nickered gently and nuzzled the boy’s palm.

A lump formed in Tyler’s throat. He envied the horse, yearning to feel that same easy connection with his son.

But he knew if he tried to approach, Leo would walk away.

As he turned to leave, Christy came out of the stables.

His pulse quickened. Even in scuffed boots and faded jeans, she was a vision, her coppery hair and classic features shining beneath the brim of her Akubra hat, her figure slim and graceful.

Ever since she’d appeared like a guardian angel on that lonely stretch of highway, rescuing him and Leo, he’d been captivated by her beauty, kindness and radiant smile.

But she wasn’t smiling now. Christy’s mouth was pressed in a tight, downward curve.

Her brows drew together, and her gaze was fixed on the ground, as though the answers to her troubles might be hidden in the dust at her feet.

He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he’d only known her a few weeks, even though they’d had some friendly interactions in that time.

It would be too bold a question. Instead, he simply waved.

She came over and inclined her head towards Leo and Lofty. ‘Those two have formed quite a bond.’

‘They sure have,’ agreed Tyler. ‘I haven’t seen my son this engaged in a long time.’

‘Animals have a way of breaking through walls,’ said Christy. ‘But it’s more than that. Leo’s a natural with horses.’ She gave Tyler a wry smile. ‘I took my first equine therapy class today and your son completely upstaged me. Maggie saw the whole thing. I may never live it down.’

So that was why she looked glum. ‘Well, I didn’t nail every dish in my early days,’ he said. ‘There were plenty of times that I burned stuff or misread the recipe.’

She looked at him askance. ‘You – truly?’

‘On my oath. The point is, I showed up and put my heart and soul into it. Just like I imagine you did today. And I kept showing up until I got it right.’

Christy kicked at a fencepost. ‘Maggie says trying isn’t enough. It’s succeeding that counts.’

‘She’s wrong. Do you think those kids don’t notice the effort you put in for them? They’ll remember that more than any perfect lesson plan.’ He tilted his head, catching her doubtful glance. ‘Give yourself a break, Christy. Nobody’s perfect their first time.’

‘Look out!’ she called suddenly, pulling him down by the arm.

‘Incoming magpies!’ They barely ducked in time as the birds swept past, chasing a juvenile kookaburra.

The clumsy youngster collided with the timber railing and fell prone to the ground.

Christy gasped, ran over and gently cupped the dazed bird in her hands, murmuring reassurances.

She carried the fledgling into the shade of a currajong tree.

The breeze lifted her hat and tossed it to the grass.

Sunlight caught the gold in her hair, and for a moment Tyler was blindsided.

It wasn’t just the way she moved, though there was an elegance there that tugged at something deep within him.

It was everything combined. How she laughed when the kookaburra raised its head, shook its beak and took flight; a laugh so melodic and joyful that it cut through his guarded heart.

How her eyes danced when she spoke about what she loved.

How she threw herself into whatever she did.

Whether wrangling kids in the classroom, waxing lyrical about stage productions, or getting her hands dirty in the paddocks, there were no half-measures with Christy.

She lived life like it was meant to be lived, unfiltered and unapologetic.

Grace, his wife, had been like that. The ache in his chest flared, raw and bittersweet.

No woman had reminded him of Grace before – not in all these years.