Leap of Faith (10 page)

Later, working her way through the delicious meal of steak, chips and salad he'd prepared, Jessica cringed at how drawn Steve looked, and how slowly he moved. She so badly wanted to lighten his load. Making phone calls was one thing she could physically do, and should do … She hated herself for her pathetic selfishness, but the thought of phoning people, having to talk about her accident, hear their sympathy, listen to their own war stories, compare notes, filled her with an almost paralysing dread. She nibbled on her lip and worried about how to ask Steve to do it instead. She was getting dangerously close to taking advantage of him and his kind nature.

As she and Steve settled into bed that night, Jessica silently prayed – to whomever, whatever – that she might have a calm, restful sleep free of nightmares.

‘I think you'd better get a little vitamin D tomorrow,' Steve said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘It's going to be twenty-two and sunny. I don't want you getting sick, or osteoporosis, or anything. I'll set you up out on the front deck.'

‘Okay, good idea,' Jessica said. But she was thinking she didn't want to be out there and visible if anyone decided to pop in. She wondered briefly if her newly acquired aversion to human contact was normal, but tossed it aside.

‘Hey, can I ask yet another favour?'

‘Sure. Anything for you, my love.'

Jessica could barely look at him. ‘Could you return some phone calls for me? I'm really not up to speaking to anyone else about how the event went and how happy they were, or otherwise, with their performances.'

‘Why don't you just send some text messages, that way you won't have to talk to them?'

Because I don't want to
. ‘Could you do it? Please?' she said, knowing she was pouting like a sulky teenager, but didn't care. She really didn't want to talk to anyone beyond Steve, Tiffany, the horses and the dogs right now.

‘Fine. I'll call or text everyone tomorrow before I go grocery shopping.'

‘You are the best husband in the entire world,' she said, forcing herself to bestow a beaming, grateful smile upon him. ‘Well, goodnight then.' She gave him a kiss. He pulled her to him for a brief, tight hug before kissing her on the forehead and releasing her.

‘Sleep tight. No nightmares tonight,' he added.

‘I hope not.'

Her painkillers were already doing their thing and making her woozy. She'd have liked to not need them, but she wouldn't have been able to sleep with the splintering pain working its way up and down her leg. She hoped she wasn't about to become addicted. Who was she kidding? She was one of the most strong-willed, determined people she knew, not that she was feeling anything like that at the moment. She was just enjoying the nice, cotton-woolly feeling of pain relief.

Jessica woke feeling like she hadn't had any sleep at all. Her eyes were gritty and burning, and her throat felt tight. When she reached for her crutches to make her way to the loo, she felt like she was carrying around the lead apron they used for X-rays.

Steve rolled over to face her as she hefted herself back into bed and pulled the covers up.

‘You must have slept better,' he said, ‘no nightmares.' A statement, not a question.

‘Yeah, better thanks,' she lied. If she used fewer words it wouldn't feel so bad. She really didn't like lying to Steve, but she also didn't want him worrying. He didn't need to know she'd woken maybe a dozen times through the night, gripped with fear, her heart racing. And if she'd managed to keep from tossing and turning and waking him up, well, so much the better. He was too busy to be dragging around tired eyes and weary bones. She just hoped the heaviness in her own eyes wouldn't be as bad as she feared it might look in the bright light of day.

Snippets of her dreams filtered into her consciousness. The same jump had appeared over and over, always with the same consequences. This time she'd seen not only Prince fall but Beau – and he was nowhere near competing at that level – and every other horse and pony she'd ever ridden, one by one.

Steve got out of bed and when Jessica made to follow suit, he said, ‘No, you stay here. I'll do the horses and then come in and get you breakfast. No arguments.'

Bless him. She smiled as she watched him dress.

‘Right, come on, you lazy gits,' he said, slapping a hand on his leg as he left the room. ‘We're not having you peeing in the house.'

Jessica watched the dogs reluctantly get up – complete with groans – and trot after their master. She thought for the umpteenth time how amazing it was that they'd so quickly adapted to life inside, and hadn't had one mishap on the floor. For farm dogs they made pretty darned good house dogs.

She lay back and closed her eyes, but she was a morning person and now she was wide awake, she was unlikely to get any more sleep, no matter how tired and groggy she felt.

It would be nice to be able to stay here in her jammies and not bother getting up at all. But a part of her knew if she did that, her mind would go over and over the nightmare, making her tense and unhappy and she didn't want Steve coming back to that. Their relationship was already at risk of changing thanks to her accident and how useless she felt. She sighed, threw back the covers and got up.

She was settled on the couch, engrossed in a story about the merits of age-defying face creams on
Sunrise
when Steve and the dogs made their noisy entrance. Immediately Laurel and Hardy leapt onto the couch and curled into position, their total confidence making Jessica smile as Steve stood nearby and shook his head in mock consternation.

‘How are the horses?' she asked.

‘All good. Only another five days weaning them off their mixes and then they're turfed out, right?'

‘Hmm,' Jessica said.

‘Jess?'

‘Yep, sounds good.' During the night, as she'd lain awake, she had pondered keeping their feeds going a while longer. The thought of selling Prince and perhaps even Beau had lodged in her mind and been nagging at her. She knew it really wasn't wise to make decisions like that when she was tired and emotional. And she was only going to be out of action for six weeks. Only six weeks! The last two days had felt like a month already! Though, really, six weeks was only one farrier visit – nothing in the scheme of things.

She really needed to stop worrying about them, didn't actually need to do anything about them. But there was a nagging inside her that told her she did have to make some decisions. Perhaps it was just guilt at imposing on Steve. Sure, looking after Prince and Beau would be less onerous without feeds to mix, but he'd still have hay to put out and rugs to change. She didn't want them looking like unkempt hairy beasts, regardless of what she decided to do.

Perhaps it was something else. The expense? Yes, but something more.

Tiffany would say that unless she got a clear sign of what she was meant to do she should stay the course. Just sit tight.

Or was Sharon Parks showing an interest in buying Prince the sign – that and the fact she was out of action? Jessica gnawed at the inside of her bottom lip.

‘Are you okay?' Steve asked, putting a mug of coffee and plate of vegemite toast in front of her, startling her slightly.

‘Sorry?'

‘You were miles away.'

‘Hmm.'

He brought a second mug and plate over and sat down on the opposite couch. ‘What's got you so thoughtful?'

‘Are you okay with doing the horses? Honestly?'

‘Jessica, it's fine. I'm fine,' he said. Jessica detected definite lethargy to his words. She didn't feel any better for his response. Though what did she expect? That he'd be all beaming and crying, ‘I love doing the horses, what are you talking about?'

‘Don't you go making rash decisions,' Steve warned, before taking a long sip from his mug. ‘I'll admit I won't be getting into horses myself any time soon, but I'm happy to do it, as I've said a million times. In sickness and in health, remember?' He smiled. ‘So stop those cogs turning. Now,' he went on, changing the subject abruptly, ‘I was serious about you getting some vitamin D while I go and do groceries – unless you've changed your mind about coming along?'

‘No, thanks,' Jessica said, shaking her head.
And I'd rather not be out on the verandah as an invitation to anyone driving past, but I will do it if it makes you happy
. She was quite astounded at just how antisocial she was feeling.

Jessica, with Steve's help, soon found herself settled out in the sun on the front verandah with a book and everything else she might need. The gentle breeze made it far too chilly for shorts and a T-shirt but her left track pants leg was rolled up to above her knee and her long sleeves were pushed up to her elbow in the hope of getting a few rays of sunshine. She waved to Steve as he drove away, and continued watching his ute making its way down the driveway.

As he turned out onto the public dirt road and headed towards the highway, she felt a pang of sadness take over her whole body. Loneliness? Surely not; he was only going to be gone a few hours. Or perhaps what she was feeling was a little depressed. Well, she certainly wasn't feeling ‘up' so, technically speaking, that would be it.

Oh for goodness' sake, you have nothing to be depressed about.
You have a wonderful life, an adoring husband and good health. A broken leg is just a temporary condition, a minor setback. You'll be back on the horses and in top form in a matter of months.

She looked over at Prince and Beau grazing in their paddocks. But instead of a fierce longing where she'd picture herself making her way around her arena and practice fences, she felt nothing more than when she gazed upon the cattle or sheep: it was a lovely, calming sight, but nothing more than that. With the sheep and cattle she always felt a certain pride in their condition and of course appreciated their value to the farm's bottom line. Right now, staring at the horses, she felt nothing more than scant affection.

Was this another sign to give them up? The money would be useful. Steve wanted to add another bull and two rams to their holding soon. And she knew he'd love them to start a family; the money could come in handy if she got pregnant. Babies cost a lot, didn't they?

She wasn't feeling at all maternal – had never gooed and gaaed over babies or small children, nor felt the strong desire to have one of her own. But she did think it would be nice to have children to one day take over everything they'd worked hard to achieve. And while she didn't yet feel that burn of cluckiness she kept hearing other women speak of, she did keep coming across articles online and in magazines warning women not to leave it too late. She was coming up to thirty-one and the practical side of her said it'd be best to do it all before the age when the tests for at risk and older mothers kicked in.

But if she had a baby, she wouldn't be able to keep up her training and competition schedule, not with a little one in tow. And there were the months of pregnancy before that when she couldn't or shouldn't ride. As hard as it would be to part with Prince and Beau, it would be the right thing to do if she and Steve decided to start a family.

She felt a slight sense of panic at the thought of not being in horses any more – the one constant that had been there through every major event in her life and proven such a great source of distraction from any pain. If she was having a grief-stricken day, she only had to get out there on the arena and focus on her dressage moves or do some jumping and she was okay again.

Could she survive without that? Jessica wasn't sure she could go cold turkey, but it would be a waste to have such well-bred, valuable horses just wandering around in paddocks doing nothing. And surely it wouldn't be fair on Prince or Beau, either; they both seemed to love to work hard and please her.

She had the fleeting thought that she could get herself a cheap, quiet old hunter to potter around on after the baby was born – perhaps even join the hunt club that already used their property as part of their run. But deep down she knew she would never be content with anything less than the best and what she was used to. Jessica Harrington née Collins was a horse snob.
Nothing wrong with being discerning and having high standards
, she told herself.

Fine, some people liked the challenge of taking some scrubber horse without any serious breeding and getting it to do reasonably well in the basics and lower level comps. But that wasn't Jessica's thing, nor had it been her father's. Only the best conformation and breeding had ever done for the Collinses of Collins Park, and while they started from scratch with their horses, they worked hard to get them up through the ranks as quickly as possible. Those who couldn't hack the pace and crumbled under the pressure were sold on without too many qualms. It was business.

One of Jeff Collins' mantras had been ‘Sentimentality has no place.' Which was how Jessica, despite having a lot of affection for Prince and Beau, could even think of parting with them without a rush of heartache or tears.

And while she liked the thought of someone else taking Prince and Beau on to excel while she concentrated on giving Steve the family he wanted, her fierce competitive streak didn't want to see it or hear about it. And she wasn't about to let her insecurity stand in the way of what had the potential to be a considerable amount of money; Prince was at a high level and Beau was doing well in his own right. And Jessica had got them there – well, with considerable help from her father before his passing. She could live with that kudos.

Jessica found herself wondering if her few fleeting moments of apprehension in recent competitions were signs she'd had her day. A few times lately, she'd felt the slightest bit of a falter at seeing some of the jumps, though not such a strong feeling that she couldn't banish it with a shift of focus or stern word. Her father would have been so disappointed in her.