Riding on Air

by Maggie Gilbert

  “So just how bad are they?”

  “Huh?” I blinked, dragging my disobedient brain back from thinking about Jinx.

  “Those glass hands of yours. Just how bad are they at the moment?”

  I chewed my lip, squinting up at Tash. ‘They’re OK’ was my usual response whenever anyone asked me how my hands were feeling on any given day, but that was a total lie on this particular day and I was a lousy liar. And anyway, Tash had a built-in bullshit detector that was as sensitive as a horse’s flank; able to pick up even a slight stretching of the truth just as easily as a horse felt the tiny little feet of an insect.

  “They’ve been worse,” I hedged, aware without even glancing down that the way I rested my arms on my knees with my hands turned palm up was a dead giveaway. Tash’s gaze flickered downwards and I had to resist the urge to hide my hands. It was too hot today to wear a hoodie, so my hands were out there in all their knobbly balloon-finger nakedness to see.

  “Yeah. I can see that.” Tash stared at me for a beat. “Why do you always pretend you’re OK when we all know you’re not?” she said suddenly.

  “I’m OK.”

  “Not!”

  “Tash, that’s not helping. Melissa, you can tell us, you know. We won’t think you’re whinging.”

  “Yes we will,” Tash grinned, “but you do get some whinging rights.”

  I dug my boot heel into the grass and wondered if that was even possible. Could you ever whine without being a pain in the butt? I didn’t think so. Whining always came down to complaining that it wasn’t fair. As if that was news to anyone.

  “You must think we’re stupid,” Eleni said. I looked at her, as surprised by what she’d said as by who had said it. I expect something like that from Tash, but not from her.

  “Speak for yourself,” Tash said.

  “Shut up,” Eleni said fiercely and this time both of us gaped at her. “Don’t make jokes Tash, this is serious.”

  “Why…so…serious?” Tash growled, pulling a Joker face.

  Eleni gave her a look full of frustration, annoyance and a tiny, sneaking dash of laughter, then looked back at me.

  “We know your hands are bad. It’s one thing for you to have a bit of trouble with Jinx on the cross-country course, but not in the dressage arena. I’ve never known him to take off out of an arena before.”

  “Frequently, actually, when I first started with him,” I said. And yes, I could hear that defensive whine creeping into my voice. I shifted unhappily in the doorway of the float and realised my butt was going numb from sitting on the hard edge. I got to my feet, thankful for arthritis that condescended to leave my knees alone. My hip joints had a few grumbles about it, but their puny mutterings were insignificant compared to the hot ache in my hands and wrists.

  I contemplated shutting the float door and turning the handle with a great show of bravado but decided it was more likely to leave me rolling on the ground crying like a little girl. Yeah, that would totally show my friends how good my hands were going.

  “She never tells us anything, so why would she mention how her hands feel?” Tash said conversationally to Eleni.

  Pointed dig at me for not telling them about William. OK, fair enough, I hadn’t had a chance to tell them before we ran into them that night. But I would have told them once there was something to tell. I would have. I took a steadying breath against the usual somersaults my stomach turned at the mention of William and eyed Tash.

  “Not helping, Tash,” Eleni said quietly. To me she added “But she’s right. You don’t confide in us and it makes us feel like you don’t want to be friends.”

  At that my stomach stopped flirting with the skittishness-about-William thing and went into full panic mode, twisting itself into ropes like wrung-out wet towels. Not wanting to whine was one thing; risking losing my only friends was another.

  “Of course you’re my friends,” I managed to say, although my throat was threatening to close up on me. Not all of that was anxiety, either. I’d been so slow getting Jinx sorted out I still hadn’t had a chance to get myself a drink and I was parched after riding in the heat and dust of the grounds. I licked dry lips, thinking of the homemade lemonade Jennie had packed into a cooler bag for me.

  “Good to know,” Tash said. She swung her legs back and forth a few times to get the blood moving again and jumped down off her horse, reaching up to take the reins over the mare’s head. It might seem random, but if your feet are cold or a bit asleep and you jump off your horse, hitting the ground feels like your feet are ice blocks that have just shattered into a million pieces. Obviously not experiencing that right then, Tash looped her reins over her arm and tugged at the strap of her horse Betsy’s drop noseband, loosening it so the mare could relax.

  “I just wish you’d tell us when your hands are bad. It’s stupid to bottle it all up and pretend everything’s fine.” Tash threaded the end of the strap through the buckle so it wouldn’t slip out of the loop and be lost, then put her hands to her mare’s nose and started digging her fingers gently but firmly into the sides of her face and muzzle, giving her a massage. Betsy lowered her head into Tash’s hands and let out a sigh, chewing and licking gently, a sure sign she was relaxing into Tash’s hands and enjoying the attention.

  “Daft cow,” Tash said affectionately and I knew she was talking to her mare, not to me. Even as I had the thought, Tash looked over at me and grinned. “And so are you.”

  Eleni let out a stifled giggle and I found my stomach unwinding itself as a grin lifted my mouth and my worries.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not even sure exactly what I was apologising for. I’d found it was good policy though; saying sorry always went a long way to getting things back on track. It didn’t actually hurt you to say it—that was the real beauty of it. And no, it was definitely not something I’d learned from my parents. In fact, if either or both of them had been a bit better at saying sorry regardless of who was actually in the wrong, they might still be together.

  That was actually an uncomfortable thought these days, even if it was sometimes a reflex one. If Mum and Dad had stayed married I wouldn’t have Jennie or the boys. If my polocrosse playing stepbrothers weren’t on the scene I’d probably never have gotten to know William. My skin crinkled at the thought, even as my stomach skipped like a rock on a pond. Being with William was a lot different than I’d imagined it would be, a confusion of delight and distress and a whole lot of doubts and second guessing myself, but the thought of him not being in my life at all was like a black pit opening up beneath my toes. Unthinkable.

  “We’re sorry too,” Eleni began, Tash butting in with another “Speak for yourself,” but Eleni ignored her and looked at me seriously. “Really, just how bad is it right now?”

  “It’s been worse,” I said again, with a glance down at the loosely curled claws hanging limply by my side.

  “But…?” Tash prodded.

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “They haven’t been better for a while, either.”

  Tash threaded her reins through her fingers. Funnily enough, she looked acutely uncomfortable now they’d finally got me to admit my hands were giving me some trouble.

  “Is that why Jinx took off today?”

  “I guess. Lately we’ve been having a bit of trouble with collecting and lateral work. My stupid hands, I can’t check him when I ask for the extra impulsion.”

  Eleni nodded thoughtfully, although Tash’s eyes had glazed over as soon as I said ‘collecting’ and I’d definitely lost her at lateral. I grinned.

  “Want me to hop on and try to show him what you mean?” Eleni made the offer hesitantly and I didn’t jump right in and accept, either. When we’d been younger, before it got so serious, before it got to be about training the horses to do it ‘right’, we’d swapped horses all the time. It was interesting to see how our horses looked from the outside, so to speak, and even more interesting to see how sometimes your horse would go better for one of your friends. And sometimes,
you could get their horse to do something they couldn’t. Like, Jinx was capable of popping over logs and training cavaletti with me on board; with Tash on him he was a showjumping machine.

  I don’t know whether that was because Tash loved to jump or whether her fearless approach to riding suited Jinx better over fences. It didn’t matter in the end because he was mine, not hers, and I wanted to do dressage, not showjumping. I did wonder if perhaps we could each of us sometimes get a sweeter tune out of the others’ horses simply because it didn’t matter so much; there wasn’t so much invested and so much at stake when it was someone else’s horse. Someone else’s training that was mostly responsible for how that horse went.

  But the days where we’d go out riding for hours and it would be almost like musical horses were some time ago now. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on Tash’s Betsy or Eleni’s gelding, Ace. It only struck me then that I hadn’t really noticed. I guess if I had thought about it I’d assumed we’d stopped swapping horses mostly because of the deterioration in my hands. Neither of my friends’ mounts were exactly easy rides.

  “Never mind, I understand,” Eleni said, cheeks flushing a rosy pink.

  I’d taken such a side trip down memory lane she thought I was just too weak to say no. Although my instinctive reaction had been no, true, that was nothing to do with her riding ability (far better than mine) or even out of any preciousness towards my horse. Instructors hopped on him to help sort out training problems all the time. No, my problem was a double whammy: one, I always wanted to do his training all by myself and riding instructors only got away with it because if you refuse to let them ride your horse you look like an idiot, and two, letting Eleni ride Jinx seemed like the thin edge of the wedge as far as JRA went. If Dad or (god forbid) Mum got any whisper that I couldn’t manage Jinx any more they’d be hanging up my saddle five minutes later.

  I dragged my mind away from all these racing thoughts with an effort. “I’m sorry Eleni, you made me think of when we used to swap horses all the time. If you wouldn’t mind it’d be great if you could have a ride. Half the problem is he just doesn’t get it and I can’t hold him long enough to get through to him.”

  “No guarantees I can either,” Eleni said honestly, but she looked excited at the thought. She loved training horses and she too would have given a lot to have access to the range of horses Tash turned her nose up at. Although I bet Eleni never wished Helen was her mum instead—she and her mother were really close. It was just the two of them, but Eleni’s Mum was totally supportive of her riding, driving her to events and even acting as her groom at the major three-day events. I totally expected to hear that Eleni was going to the Olympics on the Three-Day Event team one day. And then she could come home and train horses and riders afterwards, just like Petra Hein. Eleni didn’t talk about stuff as much as Tash did, but I was pretty sure that was her dream. I knew for sure that riding at the Olympics was top of her wish list, I just wasn’t so sure about the afterwards. I’d have to ask her one day.

  Tash ran her hand down the elegant bones of Betsy’s subtly dished face absently, her gaze unfocussed. “We used to have so much fun on those rides.”

  “Yeah,” I said, remembering all too easily. My hands had still been pretty good then.

  Eleni looked from me to Tash. “What, we don’t have fun now?”

  Tash gave her an odd slanting look. “I dunno, Leni. Do you?”

  Eleni shrugged, her face not giving anything away, and was apparently very busy loosening Ace’s girth another notch.

  “What I’m going to do is take this poor boy back to his yard and get him some hay. What about you, Tash?” Eleni added pointedly.

  “Yeah, I suppose,” Tash said and I grinned as Eleni sucked in a breath to commence lecture on proper care of horses, part 26.

  “Oh,” Eleni said, realising Tash was just winding her up. Hot colour rose on her cheekbones and I swallowed a sigh. Eleni looked so pretty when she blushed like that. I always just looked like someone had slapped me.

  “I’m coming too,” I said, turning to stare at the gear still strewn around the ground by the door of the float. “Or maybe not,” I added, knowing it was going to take me a lot of careful handling and probably a scattering of bumped knuckles and the resulting swearing to get my gear put in the float. I wished again for William to be there to be my knight in shining armour. Or just chief horse handler and gear carrier, really.

  “William,” Tash said and I jumped and whirled around, mouth open and hair standing on end, wondering if she was freaking psychic or a mind reader or something. That would be bad, considering some of the less than flattering thoughts I’d had about her hair and eyes and boobs at times. Jealous, much.

  But it seemed Tash wasn’t exhibiting latent extra sensory abilities (I really had to lay off all the paranormal stories I’d been reading lately) and was instead simply paying more attention to her surroundings than usual. My stomach shot up under my rib cage, bounced squashily from side to side a few times and then dropped back into the usual place with a speed that had my diaphragm convulsing queasily. I swallowed, cheeks on fire, and tried to summon a smile for the real William, sauntering along the yards with his usual long-legged gait.

  “Look at her face,” Tash snickered, almost strangling on the last words for laughing. I glanced at Eleni to see her give me a sheepish grin, the best she could do to resist Tash’s infectious, evil laughter.

  “Hey girls,” William said, causing my stomach to do another slow roll. He was so gorgeous and so cool. I couldn’t believe he was here to see me. My brain was having trouble catching up—struggling with the transition from wishful thinking to wish fulfilment.

  “Hi beautiful,” he said, deep blue eyes practically piercing me to the heart. Forget embarrassment or stomach acrobatics, I was filled with such a rush of amazed happiness I lost all sensation in my legs.

  “Hi,” I croaked, dimly aware that Tash was still sniggering.

  William walked right up to me and slid his arm around my waist, as daredevil as you please, either not noticing that my friends were goggling at him like green horses faced with a goat for the first time or not caring enough to worry about it. Astonishment and admiration swarmed over me in almost equal measure. Just what had I done to deserve this?

  I didn’t have the words to express how much he moved me and even if I did find them, I’d have been too tongue-tied in front of the girls to say it. If only I had some of his amazing self-confidence. I did have the capacity to lean into him though and his arm tightened around my back, his hand sliding up and down my ribs briefly before settling on my waist.

  “Coming, Melissa?” Tash asked innocently.

  “In a bit,” I said, still too overwhelmed to manage anything more than simple words.

  “I’ll call you tonight to organise a time for riding Jinx,” Eleni said and I felt William’s attention shift from me to Eleni.

  “What’s this?” he said. “You’re riding Jinx?”

  “Um, yeah,” Eleni said briefly, catching the warning glare I aimed at her. I swivelled my gaze and shot an even fiercer look at Tash, a look that threatened death and destruction if she blabbed to William about the state of my hands or my inability to manage Jinx today. Tash lifted her palms in a gesture indicating she’d never do such a thing and I scowled at her for the lie.

  “Eleni’s going to come and ride Jinx for me so I can see how he’s going in some lateral movements,” I said to William, anxiety for once lending eloquence to my brain and my tongue rather than turning the one to mush and the other to a useless lump.

  “I didn’t think anyone was allowed to ride Jinx but you.”

  “Nah, we swap horses all the time,” I said.

  “Not what your stepbrothers say.”

  “I’m not about to let those stick-wielding clowns loose on my dressage horse,” I said indignantly and didn’t have to see Eleni’s wince to realise I’d put my foot in it. Scalding embarrassment lit my skin and roiled
in the depths of my stomach.

  “I didn’t mean you,” I said desperately, mortified.

  William looked down into my face and laughed, giving me a squeeze around the ribs.

  “I know, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

  Tash let out a bark of laughter and made a lame job of turning it into a cough.

  “Gotta go,” she grunted and turned away, her narrow shoulders shaking with what was surely a fit of Tash giggles.

  I stood with William, shocked that there was actually a state of acute embarrassment that exceeded mortification. I wasn’t stupid, I knew exactly what had given Tash the giggles—the idea of me and knickers and William—but I didn’t actually find it funny. Sleep-stealing, daydream-making, another cause for that sickening, lurching see-saw from delight to despair, yes. But not funny. I hadn’t been going out with William for long but already my body was acting in weird ways. Nerves I’d never known I had sent weird signals from even weirder places. And because I wasn’t an idiot, I had a pretty good idea that it was all hormone related.

  I was going to kill Tash for making fun of that. For making fun of me.

  Chapter 13

  William absently ran his fingers lightly up and down my arm, tracing a path from the base of my thumb to the crease on the inside of my elbow and back again, until I thought I was going to lose my tiny mind and fall screaming and twitching to the floor.

  On the TV screen across the family room from us, camo-clad soldiers leapt out of a helicopter, apparently utterly captivating William, but the minute he’d tucked me in beside him on the lounge I’d lost track of anything besides his presence.

  How could he sit there so totally entranced by this shoot-em-up-saga when I was sitting here beside him, acutely aware of every little thing about him? I knew how many breaths he took in a minute, I knew every time he stretched those impossibly long legs or shifted his weight in the squashy embrace of the couch. I’d noticed how dark his eyelashes looked against his cheek when he blinked and seen that in profile he had a bump on the bridge of his nose, which I wondered how he’d got. With my shoulder tucked in beneath his, I could feel the steady thump of his heart against my ribs and I wondered if it always beat at that speed or if maybe, just maybe, it was racing that little bit because I was here with him.