Leap of Faith

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Blocked storm water drains at the school,’ Steve said, before she had a chance to ask. They both visibly relaxed. ‘I’ll get something to eat on the way,’ he said, turning back to the bedroom to get dressed. ‘I’d better get cracking.’

  ‘Okay.’ Jessica hovered until he left.

  She felt terrible when she looked out the window and saw Faith standing with her tail into the rain and her head hung, clearly drenched. The last few nights Jessica had taken some feed down to the horse and left her out. Now she nibbled on her lip, wondering if she should bring her in. She told herself she was being ridiculous – horses lived outdoors just fine. And Faith certainly did. Though for a horse who’d taken two dips in the dam every day since being introduced to it, she certainly didn’t seem to be enjoying the weather.

  Jessica turned away from the window, telling herself the horse wasn’t cold and shivering, she only looked miserable because of the way she was standing. One glance at the weather station told her to stop worrying – it was nineteen degrees outside, for goodness’ sake. Jessica set about having breakfast and wondering how to spend a wet day inside. She wasn’t a fan of riding in the rain – it meant too much gear to clean and dry off afterwards.

  It was while she was sitting with her second cup of coffee after her toast and peanut butter drizzled with honey that Jessica heard the first roll and clap of thunder. She started slightly and went to the window. Faith held her head high and was up on her toes.

  Jessica grabbed a coat at the door ‘Right,’ she said to the dogs, ‘you guys stay here.’ But she hardly needed to – they barely looked up from the couch they were sharing.

  Jessica raced down to the paddock and pulled the lead rope from the gate. Faith was already in front of her. A few strikes of lightning lit up the dark sky in the distance.

  ‘Come on, girl, let’s get you in.’ She looked across at the newly weaned lambs in the left paddock, huddled against the trees, and the cattle in the far paddock on the other side of the creek. They were moving about, unmistakeably rattled. Hopefully they would settle soon. The ewes were up the back of the property behind the house and out of sight – most likely sheltering against the row of pine trees on the boundary. Faith led the way, keen to get to the safely of her stable. Jessica had to jog to keep up.

  She had locked Faith in the stable and was halfway back to the house when a blinding display of lightning illuminated the sky above her, followed by deafening roll of thunder. The rain pelted down the moment she got inside the house.

  ‘Golly, it’s rough out there,’ she told the dogs, who raised their heads and flapped their tails before settling back down to snooze. All around the house the sky was a deep purple. The storm really seemed to have set in – this was more than just a few passing showers.

  Jessica made a cup of tea and tried to relax. Faith was safely tucked away undercover. The lambs were in sight in the next paddock from the house and had plenty of shelter thanks to the blue gum woodland they’d planted along the fences and in the corners a few years ago. The ewes would be okay; they’d been through storms before. She checked her concern. They were animals and were used to being out in inclement weather. But she had every right to be concerned; the stock were their livelihood. She looked beyond where the lambs were, down the gully to the creek. The cattle would be fine. She had to stop watching them all; she was worrying too much. And it wasn’t as if she could do anything about them being in the rain – cold was really the major threat to stock, and it certainly wasn’t cold.

  She wished Steve was home, just for peace of mind. She didn’t think anything would happen – they’d been through plenty of spring and summer thunderstorms before – but she did feel uneasy. She wasn’t sure exactly why. Get a grip. She looked at the dogs, a great barometer of trouble. They were relaxed, snoozing on the couch. Occasionally their ears flicked like antenna picking something up, probably the tension coming from her. She had to calm down.

  ‘All is well,’ she told herself firmly, and settled on the empty couch and turned on the TV. She just caught South Australia’s weather forecast: risk of severe thunderstorms. No shit, Sherlock. She wrapped her hands tighter around her mug. The rain started coming in under the wide verandah and belting the window. The wind had picked up.

  Suddenly the dogs were up off the couch and had disappeared into the bedroom and under the bed.

  ‘Great, that’s all I need. Bloody wimps,’ she called after them. ‘Call yourselves tough farm dogs.’ She forced a laugh, desperate to keep the rising hysteria at bay.

  She hoped Faith wasn’t too frightened as the storm continued to rage. The noise in the stable with its iron roof and walls with no insulation would be deafening – it was pretty loud here in the house. Jessica was sure she could now hear small hail. She looked out at the lawn. Sure enough, there was a fine carpet of white. God, she hoped the lambs were okay, poor little things. Should she try to move them? Perhaps put them in the shearing shed up behind the house? The barn with the horse float in it would be closer. She stood, uncertain, gnawing at the inside of her cheek.

  There was no way she could move them anywhere on her own. They weren’t yet used to being handled that much and would most likely just scatter in fear. No, they were safer where they were.

  Jessica wanted to phone Steve and double-check, but no doubt he was frantically busy. He’d probably have left the phone in the car where it would stay dry if he was unblocking drains, anyway.

  As she scanned the property, she noticed the cattle on the other side of the creek in the bottom paddock were looking even more unsettled.

  ‘What’s their problem?’ Normally they’d be standing still with their backs into the wind and driving rain. She frowned, squinted and tried to focus. They were too far away to see if there was a fox or something stirring them up. She grabbed the binoculars from the sideboard and turned the knobs to bring the animals into focus.

  Her eyes bugged and her heart slowed as she took in the scene laid out before her. The creek was flowing quickly; it had filled and strayed beyond its banks. The flat was half under water and the cattle were on the low side – on an island, thanks to the fences. The area of safe, dry land on the narrow strip against the fence looked very small. The water was coming from further up, from neighbouring properties, making the creek rise much more quickly than it otherwise would have. There was no way of knowing how much more was on its way.

  Jessica put the binoculars down and churned through the options in her mind, trying to keep herself calm and logical, and not let the heavy thudding in her chest deafen her. She didn’t have a four-wheel drive. The quad bike might drown. The tractor? It could terrify the cattle, who were already on edge. They’d never before seen a tractor coming towards them. The last thing she needed was for them to take fright and bust through the boundary fence and out onto the road. At stampede pace, they would be on the highway in just a few minutes.

  She looked down at the dogs, who had materialised beside her. Could the three of them do it? No way, she needed to appear daunting; she’d never manage to drive cattle across a creek on foot with two dogs. And it was too deep. If they did make it across, there was a chance the cattle could turn and trample her.

  Out of the corner of her eye she noticed movement at the bank and pulled the binoculars up to her eyes just in time to see a large gum fall, the ground beneath it eroded. The bank was collapsing. Shit. How long until the cattle were swept away as well? She had to get them to safer ground.

  Could she do it on Faith?

  ‘Right. Let’s see what you’re made of, Faith,’ Jessica said. At the door, her fingers shook as she struggled into her long rubber boots, tucked in her track pants, and then dragged a waterproof jacket from the rack. Her heart was racing. The dogs looked apprehensive. She didn’t know what to do about them. Surely they wouldn’t knowingly put themselves in danger? She didn’t want to risk them drowning in the creek and they had to cross it to get to the cattle. She needed them; had to at least give
them a go. The culvert under the road might still be intact. Perhaps they would be able to go around.

  Faith looked surprised to see Jessica at the stable gate laden with tack and wearing her helmet. The wind howled and the rain banged on the iron. The dogs were quick to seek shelter inside.

  ‘Sorry, Faith, but I need you. The cattle and little calves need us. Good girl. We can do it,’ she said, trying to convince herself as much as the horse. She fought to breathe against her racing heart, having to take the occasional gulping breath.

  Faith didn’t seem too bothered about the prospect of being ridden out into the atrocious weather – apparently she trusted that Jessica knew what she was doing. She turned her back to the wind while Jessica shut the stable door and checked her gear. She took a deep breath. Not only was she setting out in this dreadful weather, but she was doing it on a horse she knew very little about. And she had no way of knowing how Faith would react to seeing cattle up close. But she couldn’t stay in the house and put their livelihood at risk by not trying to move them.

  ‘Good girl,’ she soothed, as she led the horse towards the gate just behind the house that opened into the paddock. Halfway across, Jessica suddenly realised the gate could be padlocked. Their policy was to keep boundary gates locked, with the exception of the area immediately around the house, to prevent stock thefts. They kept a set of keys in each of their vehicles for when they needed to move stock. Where the hell was the set from Steve’s ute? She hadn’t seen him put it anywhere, and he certainly hadn’t mentioned it. It was most likely still in the glove box in the wrecker’s yard.

  Jessica paused. Should she go inside and look? No, she’d keep her fingers crossed the gate was unlocked. Now she thought about it, she vaguely remembered Steve saying he hadn’t locked it after going out late to check the ewes after more gun shots were heard the other week. If she found it locked, it would probably be quicker to get the bolt cutters from the shed and cut the chain.

  She pressed on, Faith and the dogs keeping step obediently beside her.

  ‘So far, so good,’ she said, unchaining the steel gate and leading Faith through after the dogs. She closed it behind them and moved on to open the double gates into the next paddock – a larger area with plenty of shelter. Also, it was a way of showing the dogs where they were to drive the cattle – if she got them that far.

  Finally she checked her girth, put her foot in the stirrup, and rose from the ground. Faith was tense and jumped slightly at a fresh crack and shards of lightning zigzagging across the sky followed by a rumble of thunder. It was so close it seemed almost right over the top of them. Jessica’s heart leapt into her throat, but she had managed to swing her leg over and was safely in the saddle. She was pleased she’d remembered to add a neck strap to hold onto – she was holding onto it tightly so she couldn’t inadvertently pull Faith in the mouth.

  ‘It’s okay, girl. We’re okay,’ she said. The dogs had their tails between their legs and were sticking close; they were very reluctant participants, but too loyal and well trained to leave.

  ‘Right, so we’re going to go down to the creek to get the cattle and the calves, and bring them up here where it’s safe,’ Jessica said. She set off at a trot. She was in a hurry, but was too scared to canter in case Faith bolted. That she had once before was in the back of Jessica’s mind. And she wouldn’t blame any horse taking off in fright in this weather. She just hoped Faith wouldn’t.

  Every rise in the saddle caused Jessica’s heart to leap into her chest. Her legs were like jelly. She tried to breathe through it and stay calm, not wanting her fear to affect Faith, but she was anything but calm. Faith skipped sideways, trying to put her tail into the wind, but was reluctantly obedient each time Jessica asked her to straighten up with a nudge of her legs.

  ‘Good girl,’ she cooed, rubbing a hand on her shoulder. ‘Good dogs,’ she called to Laurel and Hardy below, though she doubted they could hear her in the wind howling around them; she could barely hear herself think.

  At the gate into the creek paddock, she got off and pulled it wide open. The cattle, now less than a hundred metres away, stopped their stirring and turned to look at her. They were standing on the long, narrow island and Jessica thought they looked appreciative of her arrival. They were a formidable sight, all lined up, staring at her, Faith and the dogs, protecting their young.

  A few stamped their feet, which wasn’t nearly as menacing as it could have been, given a splash rather than a thump ensued. The dogs whined as if to say, ‘Please don’t make us go near them.’ Faith snorted. Jessica gave the slightest sigh of relief. At least Faith didn’t seem afraid of the cattle. If anything, she thought, as she gathered her reins to get back on, Faith was looking like she was challenging them. That was a good sign.

  ‘Okay, guys, we need to get around behind them and then bring them through this gate,’ Jessica said, as much to herself as the four-legged trio.

  As she made her way along the fence, she wondered why the cattle hadn’t crossed the creek of their own volition. They were on the low side; there was much more space along here. Jessica tried to push aside thoughts that she would have to cross the creek to get to them that kept creeping in accompanied with images of that day. Stay focussed. She had to concentrate. She couldn’t lose it now.

  ‘Good girl, Faith.’

  She’d been looking for the best place to cross, but the end of the paddock was now less than fifty metres away – she was running out of options. The creek was flowing fast and quite a bit of the bank on either side had been eroded, especially on the few bends, which were now considerably more pronounced than they’d been yesterday. She hoped she’d be able to stay on stable ground. Faith picked her way slowly. While Jessica wanted to, needed to, move faster – she could see the cattle were almost knee-deep in water – she couldn’t risk Faith tripping. Anyway, she could barely feel her legs though her wet pants, certainly not enough to make the horse do anything. She could only trust Faith to make her way safely. The horse seemed to know what was going on.

  As did the dogs, who were bounding ahead. They knew that something was happening with the stock, because the gates had been left wide open and they were now making their way around the cattle ready to drive them back towards the openings. They were in work mode, heads and tails lowered, concentrating, and seemingly oblivious of the weather raging around them. Jessica observed vigilantly – she didn’t want them to get ahead of themselves in their exuberance and plunge into the creek to be swept away to their deaths.

  She stopped Faith at the fence line where the creek disappeared under the secondary road just beyond their property. In front of her and to her right on the other side of the creek two capped fences turned the boundary fences into jumps. She shuddered, thinking of how she’d jumped them hundreds of times, as had members of the local hunt club, which she and Steve allowed to ride through their land in order to complete the run their property split. Now she could no more imagine jumping one of them than she could flying.

  ‘Right, Laurel, Hardy, go right round,’ she called loudly into the wind. ‘On to the other side.’ She raised her arm and waved towards the road and crossed her fingers. She hadn’t given a correct command – there wasn’t one for what she was asking them to do. She held her breath as the dogs raced off, over the fence and back over the fence on the other side. They stopped and looked at her for direction.

  ‘Good dogs. Now, go way back,’ she yelled, and waved towards the cattle. This command they knew, and off they bounded, barking, towards the tail end of the line of cattle and calves.

  Jessica looked down at the creek. Jesus. She felt the blood stop in her veins. She had to cross it. But how was she going to make herself ask Faith to go into it?

  She had a flashback of herself on Prince at the water jump. She felt sweat begin to bead under her coat. Her heart raced. But she was frozen to the spot.

  She looked back to where the dogs were, just ten metres or so away. Perhaps they could do it and she w
ouldn’t be needed. She wouldn’t have to face her fear. But the dogs were at the cattle, and all the beasts were doing was snorting and trying to stamp their feet in anger. Laurel and Hardy had given up barking and trying to nip their heels to get them moving, and were standing motionless, looking back at her helplessly.

  ‘Oh, God,’ Jessica said. She looked back down to the water churning below her. How deep was it? She tried to picture how high the bank was when it was dry and compare it to Faith’s height. She swallowed hard. There was no choice. She gathered up her reins and gave Faith a half-hearted squeeze with her legs. A part of her hoped the horse might refuse to budge, but another knew that the cattle and the dogs were relying on her.

  She was thrown back in the saddle as Faith lurched forwards and dropped down into the water. Jessica held on tight to the neck strap. She felt the surging water swirling against her legs. It was up to Faith’s belly. Jessica held her breath. She desperately wanted to close her eyes, but even they seemed frozen open, staring straight ahead.

  Before she could have another thought, Faith had made two leaping strides, and was clambering up the unstable muddy bank.

  Back on level ground, tears stung in Jessica’s eyes as a wave of intense emotion hit her. ‘Oh, Faith, you good, good girl,’ she croaked, and patted the horse on the neck.

  But her quest was nowhere near over. Jessica pulled herself together with a gulp, gathered her reins again and gritted her teeth.

  ‘Right, come on everyone, let’s move these guys.’

  She trotted Faith as boldly forwards as she could in the soft, squelching ground, feeling anything but brave. The dogs seemed to relish the larger reinforcements and rushed forwards with renewed enthusiasm. They barked and nipped at the heels of the cattle, which had started shuffling away from the approaching contingent.

  Now the herd was moving, Jessica settled in the saddle enough to consider that Faith must have done more than just encounter stock before. But her thoughts were brief: another crack of lightning and roll of thunder caused her racing heart to leap and remind her again of what they were doing and why.