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‘Thanks, Hazel,’ said Gus, smiling after her.
‘Hazel is just as nice as she looks,’ Joan wasted no time telling him the second she was out of earshot. Abigail had heard where she was going and, leaving Denby with Joan and Gus, she followed after Hazel to see Denby’s new stable christened with the sign.
Joan stroked the side of Denby’s face, leaning her cheek against his. ‘You like her too, don’t you?’ And then she winked at Gus.
‘She seems very good with horses, that’s what I’m after. Donotgo getting any ideas.’
‘Me?’ She laughed loudly. ‘As if.’
Abigail soon came running back, after they heard a little bit of banging that had Denby’s attention. ‘I need to take him to see his stable.’
Gus shared an amused look with Joan. Denby was probably more than ready to head over to the paddock and meet some new friends and nibble on the grass for the rest of the day. But Abigail had other ideas and led him into the stable block where she showed him the sign in situ, and his stable, which was clean, had a water trough to one side, plenty of shavings on the floor, and bars allowing him to see out of both sides. Hazel went through some of their turnout process with him and Joan to put them both at ease and Abigail even showed Denby where he’d be having a bath when he needed it.
They emerged from the stable block with Abigail leading Denby and they couldn’t have timed it any worse because Arnold’s lesson had just finished, and the boys didn’t seem any calmer. Now they were a bit closer, Gus could tell they were most likely a good couple of years younger than his daughter and young enough to not have a filter when it came to asking questions about Abigail’s scars. Mind you, some adults didn’t seem to have a filter and sometimes, worse, they talked about his daughter as though she wasn’t there, asking questions, expressing understanding or what they thought was understanding.
One of the boys came hurtling towards Abigail, practically skidding to a halt. She kept her body close to Denby, her face almost pressed against his shoulder.
‘Is this horse new?’ the boy asked. ‘Can I ride him?’ he asked nobody in particular.
‘I don’t think we want to torment Denby, do we?’ Hazel muttered beneath her breath as Arnold came over and told the boys that their parents were waiting. He was just as good at ushering them away at the end of the lesson as he was at getting them going at the start.
The girls and their mother were far more sedate leaving, and apart from a cursory glance their way, they were less interested in any newcomers. As Arnold went over to help the stable hand remove tack from the horses and have them turned out, Hazel suggested, ‘Abigail, why don’t we let Denby have some time in the paddock?’
Joan squeezed Abigail’s hand. ‘That sounds like a marvellous idea.’
And while the girls dealt with Denby, Gus went over to where Arnold was wiping down the tack he’d taken off each horse and put over a rack for the time being.
‘Would you like some help?’ Gus offered. He wanted to sound Arnold out about the lessons.
Arnold passed him a saddle, which he dumped in his arms and then hooked a bridle over his shoulder. ‘Bet you wish you’d never asked.’
Gus laughed. ‘Might as well use me rather than have me standing there observing.’
They took the tack around to the tack room and inside, Gus found the right places for the tack. With a smile, he looked at Denby’s name on a hand-written sign and his chocolate-brown saddle in place, his bridle on a different hook.
‘Lucy’s Blacksmithing does excellent signs.’ Arnold’s voice sounded from behind him. He indicated Franklin’s saddle spot and an iron square engraved with the horse’s name in fancy twisty lettering as he put the saddle back in place. ‘She’s local.’
‘I’ve seen her workshop from the outside, just not had a chance to go inside yet.’
‘You should, she makes some wonderful things.’ Arnold put the bridle back, as well as the saddle pad. ‘That boot scraper by the office was Lucy’s work – we have a funky wine rack she made too. She’ll make signs if you like, and we’ll put them up for you. We like to make owners feel at home here.’
‘Abigail has a birthday coming up, it’s the sort of gift she’d appreciate.’
‘I know horse lovers, and Abigail definitely fits the profile.’
The stable hand was busy outside, cleaning another horse’s tack with a wet sponge, and Arnold requested he clean another set after that one, before he and Gus walked back around to the front of the stables.
‘I wanted to ask again about lessons,’ Gus started. ‘I know from Hazel how busy you are and I know a regular spot for a private lesson might be a bit much to ask, but I really think Abigail needs it, if only to settle in.’
‘I get it,’ Arnold agreed, retrieving a pitchfork from inside the stable block. He rested his hands on top of the fork as they talked, pausing in his day for the newcomer. ‘It’s just we’re really booked up. Most days are as crazy as today. I’ve only got forty minutes until I’ve got another group of four,’ he said to illustrate the point. ‘Sometimes we have cancellations, that might be a good bet.’
‘Group lessons are definitely what we’d like in the end, but I think for a while she might need some one-on-one.’
‘Is she settling in all right?’
It touched him that Arnold showed concern on a personal level. ‘We’re getting there quicker than I thought we might, actually.’
‘I wish I could be more help, I will get in touch with a free slot if any come up, I promise you that. But I don’t think there’ll be much before the school holidays, when Abigail will presumably be free during the day.’
