Page 38 of Wild Horses

‘Remember, projection is key,’ she called to the students standing before the old hall stage one morning, scripts in hand. ‘I need to hear every word, even from the back row.’ Her voice echoed, bouncing off the rafters, until it was drowned out by the loud drumming of rain on the tin roof. Oh no!

Without being told the kids dashed from the stage, collecting buckets from a stack stowed ready along the wall.

They placed them strategically beneath a series of leaks that were beginning in the roof.

Tiff and Emma started arguing over who should have the biggest bucket, both claiming that theirs was the largest leak.

Leo rushed to offer his own enormous bucket to Tiff.

Christy often noticed him make similar sweet, occasionally flirty, gestures.

One chilly morning he’d draped his jacket over Tiff’s shoulders without saying a word.

She’d snuggled into it, thanking him with a sunny smile.

While sitting together in class, Leo sometimes got in trouble by drawing funny little doodles for her, making her giggle.

And whenever students received a Mars Bar at recess, Leo would give his to Tiff, who was apparently a chocaholic.

But for Christy, the thing that proved his growing affection was when Leo shyly presented Tiff with a handmade braided leather bracelet.

He’d given it to her before English one day, and Christy felt sure Tiff hadn’t heard a word she’d said during that entire class.

She’d been too busy cooing over the gift and showing it off to Jane.

Tiff accepted the biggest bucket from Leo as if it was a precious gift.

As Christy stood observing the blossoming friendship, a cold sensation began creeping down her neck.

Damn! A new leak had started in the roof above her, and they weren’t even into the wet season yet.

The Bureau was forecasting a La Nina weather event this year.

During the last La Nina Dalby had recorded an astonishing four hundred millimetres of rain just in January.

She’d have to get the roof fixed somehow.

Christy finished her last class of the day, the final bell ringing through the stillness of the late afternoon.

She gathered up papers and books, stopping to glance at a few of the students’ essays.

She made a face. Well, they could certainly do with more handwriting practice.

That was the problem with doing almost everything on their iPads.

The topic for English today had been exploring personal narratives.

She’d asked them to write about a significant event or experience in their lives.

Everyone had written at least a page, even Tiffany, who up until now had been reluctant to share much about herself.

The students’ ready engagement was a bright spot in Christy’s day, but now, alone in the empty classroom, the anxieties she kept at bay during school hours crept back.

As she stepped outside, a warm breeze brushed against her face, carrying the scent of eucalyptus and pine from the Bunyas. Thank goodness the rain had stopped. It meant she wouldn’t have to go back to the hall tonight to empty and reset the buckets.

Christy made her way to the stables, her pace quickening as she neared Honey’s yard.

The chestnut mare had become her quiet sanctuary from the world’s demands.

As she approached, Honey lifted her head, ears pricked in recognition.

The mare’s deep, soulful eyes met hers and calm seeped into Christy’s bones.

‘Hey, girl,’ she murmured, reaching out to stroke Honey’s velvet muzzle. The mare nickered softly, nuzzling her hand as if to say, I’ve been waiting for you. Christy slipped a halter on her.

As she groomed the mare’s rich brown coat, her worries began to melt away.

Honey’s steady presence, the long, soothing brush strokes and the repetitive motion combined in a kind of meditation.

Christy reflected on how much the mare meant to her.

‘Being here with you,’ she whispered, ‘it’s like everything else just fades into the background.

’ Honey was more than a horse – she was a confidante, a strong, silent friend who listened without judgement.

Equine therapy wasn’t just good for the kids – it was a lifeline for her too.

Honey flicked her ears, gently nudging Christy’s shoulder.

She exhaled, resting her forehead against Honey’s neck, savouring the warm, earthy scent.

What was it that made horses smell so good?

‘It’s the best smell on earth, isn’t it?’ Leo’s voice, accompanied by the sound of clip-clopping hooves.

He swung nonchalantly from Lofty’s bare back. Maggie had tried riding the big thoroughbred on several occasions but had been unceremoniously dumped each time – much to Christy’s secret delight. Tiffany followed Leo into the yard.

‘We’re going for a ride. Maggie said it’s okay. Can we have Honey?’ he asked. ‘The other school horses are a bit tame for Tiff, and the new rescues are too wild. Although I reckon Tiff would have no trouble.’ He favoured the girl with a dazzling smile.

Christy experienced a small stab of possessiveness and wished that Honey could be hers alone.

But since Tiff could ride the pants off everyone at Currawong Creek, including Maggie, it seemed churlish to object.

With a smile she tossed Tiff the curry comb.

‘She’s all yours.’ Christy started distributing her pocket full of carrots to the other inquisitive heads looking over the stable doors.

Leo began brushing Lofty with his usual care and attention, but his eyes kept darting over to where Tiffany was plaiting Honey’s tail. The admiration in his gaze was unmistakable, and a slight colour crept further up his neck whenever Tiff glanced his way.

As she finished her task, Leo casually strolled over and held out a dazzling blue feather. ‘It’s from a kingfisher,’ he said. ‘I found it down by the creek,’ he said. ‘It’s so pretty it reminded me of you, Tiff.’

The girl’s eyes lit up. She took the feather, her fingers briefly brushing Leo’s as she did. ‘It’s beautiful, thank you.’

Leo grinned, his face breaking into that charming, slightly lopsided smile Christy had seen so often these past few weeks. Then, very slowly, he tucked the feather behind Tiffany’s ear.

Her cheek flushed a soft pink. She tilted her head and gave Leo a playful smile. ‘How does it look?’

‘Perfect.’ Leo reached to adjust the feather and his fingers lingered for a few moments on her hair.

They finished saddling the horses. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something, Tiff?’ said Christy.

Tiff put a hand to her head. ‘My helmet! Hang on, I think it’s on my bed. Or maybe in the rec room?’ She passed Honey’s reins to Leo and dashed off.

Christy stroked Honey’s white blaze while they waited for Tiff to return. ‘How’s Lofty doing?’

‘He’s great, aren’t you, fella?’ Lofty shoved him hard with his nose, almost knocking him over. ‘Are you trying to make a liar out of me?’ Leo laughed. ‘This could be the end of a beautiful friendship.’ He slipped the big gelding a slice of apple.

‘No fear of that,’ said Christy. ‘Lofty adores you. He’ll miss you like crazy when you go. Tom and Clare say that they’ve never seen such a connection between a student and horse.’

Leo glanced at Christy, then back to the horse. ‘I’m going to ask Dad to buy Lofty, so I can take him with me when I go.’

Oh dear, didn’t he know? Christy took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. ‘Leo, none of the rescue horses here can be sold. They’ve come from bad situations, and there’s a contract stating that they live out their lives at Currawong Creek.’

Leo’s expression darkened, and he buried his face in the horse’s shining black mane. After a minute he turned to her, his eyes glistening, his voice quiet but resolute. ‘If Lofty stays, I’ll stay too. I don’t want to leave him – or this place.’

‘Oh, Leo ...’ The boy’s heartfelt plea nearly broke her heart.

First he’d suffered the loss of his mother, and then endured the impenetrable detachment of his grief-stricken father.

He seemed to be recovering in the therapeutic environment of Currawong Creek, but losing Lofty might just catapult him back into depression.

Leo knuckled away a few tears. ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to say. I know I freaked out when I saw you kiss my dad. I’m sorry about that. It’s just ... I don’t know.’

‘It’s okay, Leo. It was a confusing situation for all of us.’

He shot her a small, grateful smile. ‘Dad deserves some happiness, and if anybody can make him happy, it’s you. I want you to know that.’

Christy stood there, open-mouthed. Leo was giving her his blessing. Christy ached to hear it. Great , she thought, a wry smile tugging at her lips. Pity it was all too late.

Tiff arrived back and the pair mounted up.

Christy watched them ride out side by side, the easy rhythm of their companionship as warm and natural as a Bunya Mountain breeze.

She couldn’t help a pang of longing for Tyler and her own lost love, but the feeling was brief.

Leo and Tiff were still just kids figuring things out, but young love had a way of making the world look brighter.