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9
With Denby finally dry, a process sped up by the season, Gus and Abigail made use of the outdoor riding school at Heritage View while Arnold was taking a lesson in the indoor school and Hazel had gone into the house to rescue their dinner.
‘Can’t we go out to the village and some of the bridleways?’ Abigail asked again as she completed yet another lap around the school on Denby, this time trotting in the opposite direction. ‘I’ll go slowly, you don’t have to worry about keeping up.’
Gus had occasionally joined Abigail and Joan on a hack but mostly it had been just the two of them and sometimes they’d be gone for hours. Here in the village, until Abigail had lessons and had others to go out with, it was down to him to run alongside if she wanted to go outside of Heritage View. And as much as Abigail said she’d go slow, if he took her to the bridleways, she’d want to go a bit faster, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to either try to keep up or to watch her go at speed when they didn’t know the area.
‘We’ll get you out and about soon,’ he assured his daughter. ‘Just not quite yet.’
‘Did you ask about lessons again?’
‘I did. And we’re working on it.’ He didn’t miss the momentary slump in her shoulders until Denby snorted, a sign of contentment, and she mellowed. Here she was out in the sunshine, on horseback, and that in itself was pretty good.
Some parents were paranoid about their kids learning something as dangerous as horse riding; they were terrified their kid would fall off, that they would get trampled on or the horse would bolt. And while Gus might have had all those fears once, since Abigail’s accident and the way her world had shattered, seeing her absorb herself in her love of horses and in particular Denby, and the way she healed with her involvement and her passion, had put a stop to any doubt he might ever have had when it came to her riding. And leaning against the fence now, he also knew that despite any challenges they still had to come, this move to a new village, a new pace of life, was a good thing.
Watching his daughter, he wished yet again that Hazel would agree to the lessons for her. She was so good with Abigail, he’d seen it when they washed Denby, the patience she had, never mind the fun, and then the way she let Abigail help her with filling the hay nets, even though she probably could’ve done it quicker alone. Hazel had a kind nature, it was one of the things he most admired about her. But maybe he needed to adopt a little patience because perhaps Joan was right, there had to be a valid reason why Hazel wouldn’t teach his daughter.
He smiled to himself, wondering how much of Joan’s understanding about Hazel’s character was down to her getting ideas about the local vet and the pretty stable owner getting together. It seemed a common theme. When Gus had bumped into Barney yesterday at the tearooms, Barney had tried to give him more of a run-down of the locals, as though regular reminders were the best way to learn about the village and its people. When he’d got to Hazel, Barney hadn’t mentioned anything out of the ordinary, just that she was kind and generous with her time and that she rarely did anything that didn’t involve horses. But he also sneaked in a mention that she was single, and Gus had tried not to laugh because he felt sure that this wouldn’t be the first time the old man had tried to fix someone up. And when Etna, owner of the tearooms, had overheard their conversation, she’d said to Barney, ‘Let the young man find love himself, it’s not your job.’ He’d denied that was what he was doing, of course.
Abigail grew impatient in the outdoor school and when Hazel came over to tell them she had a group lesson in thirty minutes, Gus reluctantly agreed to take his daughter and Denby further away from the stables.
‘On one condition,’ he told Abigail as he closed the gate to the school behind her and Denby. ‘I use a lead rope.’
‘Da-ad. I’m not a baby.’
‘Just humour me, would you? We don’t know the lanes, we don’t know the village.’
‘A lead rope is an excellent idea,’ Hazel agreed, hooking a strand of blonde hair around her ear when it insisted on blowing against her cheek. ‘It means you get a feel for the roads near here, the level of traffic, which is pretty much the same most days. Denby needs to get used to it too, get his confidence.’
Magic. It was as though anyone reiterating the rules, as long as it wasn’t him, worked. And Abigail agreed, with the caveat that they wouldn’t do this all the time.
It was coming up to seven o’clock as Gus, Abigail, and Denby walked away from the stables, down the long drive, then all the way up the lane towards The Street. It was a beautiful evening and easy to forget the time with it being summer. In the winter, it grew dark so early that there was no chance of your day going on longer than it should, but that wasn’t true of this season, and it made Gus glad his veterinary practice was in the early stages, that he’d planned their move this way so that he could get both himself and Abigail settled before the long school holidays and before his business picked up.
Denby attracted a few admirers, including a group of children waiting near the bus stop who came over to see the horse. Denby appeared to enjoy the attention for a while, with Gus supervising, making sure none of them walked around the back of the animal, that none of them said anything to upset his daughter. He watched Abigail, whose chest was filled with pride at so much interest in her horse. She answered questions, told the children about Denby, and then they walked on a little further before turning back.
Gus was thankful that every car that passed them on the way back to the stables did so considerately, and when they reached the long driveway leading up to Heritage View, he took off the lead rope to let Abigail trot on ahead. She had Denby slow to a walk when she reached the house and Gus noticed Hazel come flying out of the front door with a bulky green holdall in her hands.
She did not look happy.
Gus quickened his pace. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked when he got closer.
‘It’s Cinnamon, he’s hurt.’ She rushed towards the area outside the stable block where the horse was with Arnold, who was trying to keep the animal calm. ‘It’s his leg.’
Gus could see that but what he could also see was Abigail, still on horseback, having ridden closer to where Arnold was with Cinnamon, looking unsure, scared, as she took in the blood on Cinnamon’s leg. Gus took hold of Denby’s bridle in case he got spooked by a horse in distress.
‘Cinnamon…’ Abigail whimpered as the horse, agitated outside the stable block, tossed his head as Arnold and Hazel tried to calm him. ‘Can’t you do something, Dad?’
‘Why don’t you dismount here, take off Denby’s tack, and get his halter, put him out into the paddock with his friends. And I expect they’ve already called the equine vet. If not, I’ll help, how does that sound?’
It placated his daughter and she dismounted on the side of her horse that meant she could no longer see the drama, although he expected she could still hear the clattering of hooves as the horse moved around, trying to prevent anyone from getting near his leg.
With Denby’s tack removed and his halter on, he gave a contented snort and Abigail led him over to the paddock while Gus got the gate. ‘He’s thirsty,’ said Abigail as they watched him go straight over to the trough of water.
‘He worked hard today.’ Gus had a hand on his daughter’s back as she climbed up one rung on the fence so she could better see her horse.
‘He’s happy here.’
‘He is.’ But when he turned, he could tell another horse was very much the opposite of happy. He hadn’t wanted to overstep with Cinnamon, not unless he was asked, and neither Hazel nor Arnold had asked him to take a look. But he couldn’t just stand here as though nothing was going on, not when the horse was still so upset and there was no sign of any help on its way. ‘Abigail, would you wait here while I see what I can do?’
