by Cathryn Hein
Matt left the Graneys’ feeling lighter, as if he’d dumped more than a puppy at the house. The kitchen deep and meaningful had helped a little but he still wasn’t convinced about his cousin. Tony’s pushing of Wal, both at the pub and in the hospital with the will, seemed too calculated to be all familial concern. Matt had no doubt that he cared deeply for his family, he only had to look at Tony with his girls and baby to see how precious they were to him. His anger in the hospital toward Matt spoke volumes too. Although whether that was more from thwarted plans, Matt couldn’t be sure.
It didn’t matter. What mattered was that Matt had made the first move. The next was up to Tony.
Matt’s weekend dragged. Callie had taken on double shifts at the pub and when she wasn’t sleeping away her exhaustion, she was packing up the house, or attempting to. By his estimation there seemed to be more toying around than packing, with only a few boxes making it to the taped up and labelled stage. It wasn’t that he didn’t have plenty to keep him occupied – each visit to Wal had him leaving with another list of jobs – it was that he simply couldn’t wait for Monday to come around so he could deliver his surprise to Callie.
A passing remark to Wal about Lyndall and her need for a bombproof pony had unearthed the astonishing fact that Phantom – Callie’s Phantom – was not only alive, but thriving. The news launched Matt into immediate action. Disappointingly, and despite much cajoling, Phantom’s owners refused to sell. A situation Matt soon accepted when he heard how precious the pony was to them. But the gods were clearly on his side. Perfect timing meant he could borrow Phantom for a period of two weeks, enough, he hoped, to give Callie back some of the childhood joy she’d lost. And perhaps restore Lyndall’s confidence.
At six on Monday morning, after doing his rounds of the farm, he hooked the horse float to the Amarok and drove two hundred kilometres eastward down the Princes Highway to Warrnambool, still unable to believe his luck.
By the time he drove through Glenmore’s gate nearly five hours later, Matt was chafing like a racehorse waiting for the starter. Keeping half an eye on the house, he parked the car near the shed, circling so the float’s tailgate pointed toward the river.
Callie was hanging clothes on the line when he walked into the yard. Even with a peg in her mouth she looked sexy – athletic, tanned and with her body shown off gloriously in a pair of denim shorts and fine-strapped white singlet. She wore her hair in milkmaid plaits again, a look he found curiously arousing.
‘You’re looking smug today,’ she said, pulling the peg from her mouth and hanging up a pair of skimpy knickers.
‘There’d be a reason for that.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come here.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t argue, just come. Please. It’s important.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘What are you up to?’
‘You’ll see.’ He stretched out and snatched her hand, holding it firmly so she couldn’t escape. Though her suspicious expression remained, she followed him to the end of the house. ‘Now close your eyes.’
‘No!’
‘Please, Callie. It’s important.’
She held up a finger. ‘Don’t even think of playing a trick on me.’
‘It’s not a trick, I promise.’
Callie fixed him with a long stare before sighing and closing her eyes.
Matt led her across the yard, stopping her at the Amarok’s right front fender. Grabbing her shoulders, he spun her gently to face the house. ‘Now don’t move, and whatever you do, don’t open your eyes.’
‘This had better be good.’
‘Trust me,’ he said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. ‘It’s so good it’s a bloody miracle. Now stay, and no cheating.’
As quietly as he could, he lowered the float’s tailgate. Phantom stood patiently with one hind hoof cocked. Matt ducked inside, whispering nonsense as he untied the horse’s lead. A slight nudge and Phantom backed out.
Matt caressed his ears. ‘Now, no messing about. This is important.’ He poked his head around the side of the float to check on Callie. She stood with her arms crossed, weight on one hip but still facing the correct way. Making a clicking, come-on noise, he led Phan forward. Two metres from Callie, Matt halted, heart drumming.
‘You can open your eyes and turn around now.’
Callie turned. Her eyes rolled. ‘Oh, if you’ve bought me another hor—’ Her fingers went to her mouth. She glanced at Matt, eyes flooding. ‘If this is some sort of joke then it’s not funny.’
‘It’s not a joke, Callie.’ He stroked the pony’s forelock. ‘It’s Phantom, your pony. He’s alive.’
Sixteen
Callie’s fingers trembled against her lips. Her eyes began to sting with hurt. Presenting her with a fake Phantom was a cruel thing to do to someone, and from Matt, of all people.
‘Phan’s dead. He has to be. It’s been too long.’
‘He’s not.’ He led the horse closer. ‘I promise you this is Phantom. Your Phantom, alive and looking pretty bloody good for his age.’
Callie shook her head but she couldn’t deny the creature in front of her. The stumpy horse had Phan’s lovely dapple-grey colouring. His off-side front hoof was white, as Phan’s had been, and he had the same sweet long lashes as her beloved horse. Her heart took several skips, tripping over her rising excitement. She glanced at Matt, who smiled encouragingly, and let hope flow through her veins.
She took a step to the side, hungrily scanning the gelding’s flank, and there it was – the triangular scar where he’d caught himself on a piece of scrap iron after yet another Houdini escape from his paddock. Proof.
‘It’s really him.’ A tear slid down her cheek, her voice gravelly with emotion. Callie looked at Matt; his green eyes glittered as though he, too, found the moment affecting. ‘It’s really him!’
‘Yep.’ He cocked his head toward Phan. ‘Well, go on. Don’t just stand there. Say hello.’
Stepping back to Phan’s head, she held out her fingers to let him smell her, then stroked the lovely curve of his nose. Callie had always loved the little dish in it, imagining he was really a romantic Arabian. In the summer, she’d ride him down to MacLeans Bay and race him bareback across the sand, pretending they were galloping across the desert to a secret oasis. They’d had so much fun, so many adventures. The best friend she’d ever had. Losing him had intensified the agony of Hope’s death and cut something from her soul, leaving her bereft of comfort. Two friends – two loves – gone.
And now, after all that yearning and regret, she had one of them back.
Overwhelmed, Callie wrapped her arms around Phan’s neck and buried her face into his deliciously horsey-smelling mane. She breathed him in hard, loving the warmth of his body against hers, the lovely bristle of his mane against her cheek, the short sleekness of his summer coat; the touch of a strong, healthy and perfectly, wonderfully alive Phan.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said, looking up at Matt. ‘How did you find him?’
‘It wasn’t that hard. Wal knew where he was all along.’
‘He never said!’
‘Probably because you didn’t ask.’ Matt gave a wry shrug. ‘You know what he’s like.’
Letting go of Phantom, Callie stroked her hand down his neck, then across his back and hindquarters, checking him over. Though obviously aged, with his dapples faded, his back dipped, and his muscles not quite as hard as she remembered, her horse appeared in excellent health. His coat gleamed like burnished stainless steel, his hooves were well-trimmed and without cracks, and his mane and tail were clean and knot free. Callie couldn’t stop touching him, as if at any moment he’d disappear from her life again. She returned to his head and cupped it, telling him how handsome he was between kisses.
Phantom accepted her attentions with equanimity. A sturdy little bombproof horse who’d seen it all before.
‘Listen, Callie, I’d better warn you. He’s only on loan.’
She looked sharply at Mat
t. On loan? Phantom was her horse. She didn’t want him on loan.
‘I’m sorry, but he has to go back. The owners need him.’
‘What do you mean “need” him? What for?’
‘For their son, Ethan.’ Matt pointed toward the house. ‘Come on, let’s get everyone watered first and I’ll explain.’
To avoid a Honk ambush, Callie led Phan to the backyard via the front of the house where it was easier to watch for the mad goose’s approach. She’d had one horse accident already and wasn’t about to risk another. Callie walked on Phan’s near side, Matt his off, the little horse plodding obediently between them. One sniff of the back lawn, with its spurt of tender growth thanks to the heavy watering Callie had given during the night of the fire, had Phantom perking up considerably. Though he still followed, every step involved a snatch at grass. Prepared to indulge her old friend anything, Callie let him have his head.
Honk was grazing in the far corner but on spying the trio, he raised his beak, bugled loudly, and raced toward them, wings beating like great clappers. Callie tensed, Matt’s step faltered, but Phan simply lunged at the goose with long snapping teeth and sent him scuttling off back to his corner in a series of frightened squawks.
‘I’d forgotten you did that,’ Callie said, ruffling Phan’s forelock. She grinned at Matt. ‘Phan was the only person Honk ever showed respect for.’
‘Person?’
‘You know what I mean.’
Callie handed Phan’s lead to Matt while she ducked inside to fetch a bucket of water. Returning, she sat cross-legged on the lawn and watched Phan suck greedily at the contents, admiring his gorgeous dark eyes and sweet flicking ears. Having taken his fill, the horse returned to grazing, biting into the sward with sloped yellow teeth. Each chomp left a scoop of exposed pale thatch, as if a golfer had run wild and left divots over the lawn.
Morton paced the home paddock, halting occasionally to neigh loudly across the fence, but Phan seemed just as disinterested in him as he was with Honk. The horse’s one-track mind hadn’t changed. There was food to be had and he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
Returning from his own trip to the house, Matt handed Callie a glass of water and sat down next to her. The smug expression he’d worn since his arrival hadn’t faded. Callie couldn’t blame him. If she’d tracked down something as precious for him she’d be feeling pretty smug too.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘Very.’
‘You’re not, I dunno, upset?’
Callie eyed him. ‘Why would I be upset?’
‘Because you can’t keep him.’
‘A little, but I guess I’d better hear about this Ethan before I start judging.’
Matt took a sip from his glass and leaned back on his hands, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. ‘Just so you know, your nan and pop kept Phan here for as long as they could. Well after your parents suggested they sell him.’
‘Mum. It was Mum who said he should be sold.’
‘She was probably only doing what she thought was right.’
‘I know.’ Callie picked at some grass, plucking the blades in sharp jerks. ‘Still hurts though. Anyway, go on. Tell me what happened.’
Matt regarded her for a moment before continuing. ‘Wal heard about a family – the Jennings – who were looking for a pony for their son Ethan. Riding for the Disabled had changed his life apparently.’
Callie breathed in hard as she realised where this was heading. ‘It takes a very special horse to be a Riding for the Disabled horse.’
‘It does. Wal says your nan agonised over whether to let him go, but the moment she saw Ethan with Phan she knew it was the right thing to do. He’s been with the Jennings ever since, spoilt rotten.’
She gazed at Phan, sad that she’d lose him again, proud that he’d been so cherished. ‘So how long do I have him for?’
‘He has to be back by the fifteenth. Ethan’s in respite care for a couple of weeks while Belinda and Darren take a well-earned holiday.’
Today was the fourth of February. Callie had ten full days. She had to make the most of it. For herself and, she realised, for Lyndall.
She turned to Matt. ‘Thank you for this. It’s . . .’ She hunted for the right phrase to express her gratitude.
‘Just what you’d expect from an attractive, capable man like myself?’
‘Not quite what I was going to say,’ said Callie dryly.
‘You know,’ he said, edging on to his hip and leaning on his elbow, fingers in the grass close to her leg. ‘I should probably add self-serving to that list.’
She raised her eyebrows, aware of his hand, so close to her bare skin.
He grinned. ‘You owe me two kisses now.’
‘Two?’
‘One for the other night with Lyndall, one for Phan.’ He affected an innocent air. ‘Not that I’m counting.’
‘Much.’
He slipped a finger down her bare leg, leaving a shiver of goosebumps in its wake.
‘Well?’
Callie clenched her teeth against the pulse in her groin, against the urge to slide alongside him, drape her leg over his and drag him to her like an over-hormoned adolescent.
‘Well what?’
‘You know.’
‘Don’t you have work to do?’
‘I do. But some things are more important.’
She looked at him sideways. Damn, he was tempting with his sparkling eyes and confidence. He made her stomach lollop and flutter. He made her want to reach for a future she didn’t believe she deserved. He made her want to love.
Callie breathed in hard. She stared at the house, at the paddocks and forest. At all she had promised her sister and family. At the peace she had hoped for herself. He was right. Some things were more important.
Anchored again, she stood, dusted off her backside and reached down for Phan’s bucket before regarding Matt once more. ‘Come on. We’d better get these horses introduced.’
‘Callie—’
But she was already leading Phan away.
Kate was almost as excited as Callie to learn of Phantom’s homecoming, but with school returning Tuesday morning, the timing of Lyndall’s rehabilitation sessions proved problematic. Callie’s shift at the Royal began at four. School didn’t end until three. Allowing time for Kate to bring Lyndall to Glenmore and for Callie to belt into town for work, they had half an hour at the most for Phantom to work his magic.
At least – thanks to Kate’s persuasive powers – Lyndall was no longer grounded and they didn’t have to conduct the activity in secret. Having experienced enough drama from Hope’s deceits, Callie had never felt comfortable with the lie. Kate was only trying to help but Lyndall was at an impressionable age. Deception was the last thing she needed to be shown as acceptable, and as far as Callie could determine Xav Soriano was a loving parent who merited more respect.
‘God, I hope this works,’ whispered Kate as Lyndall observed Phan from beside the safety of the liquidambar’s sturdy trunk.
‘Me, too,’ Callie replied before walking forward to untie the horse from the clothesline. She scruffed Phan’s mane and bent toward his tufted ear. ‘Not to put too much pressure on, but there’s a whole lot riding on this, Phan my man. But you can do it. You’re the Ghost Who Neighs.’ She straightened and smiled at Lyndall. ‘This is my Phantom. Isn’t he gorgeous?’
Lyndall eyed him dubiously. ‘Isn’t he a bit small for you?’
‘A little but he’s very strong and, most of all, completely bombproof. You could stick a baby on him and he wouldn’t move. Look.’ After looping his lead over his neck, Callie kissed Phan’s nose and then crawled on hands and knees beneath his belly. Once underneath, she stopped and shoved her head between his front legs, looking up to grin at Lyndall. Phan curled his neck to sniff at her hair before returning to his half doze. Demonstration finished, Callie slipped out the other side. ‘See?’
‘He looks quiet,’ Lyndall replied, sounding onl
y half convinced.
‘Very. That’s why he was chosen to help teach a disabled boy to ride. It takes a pretty special horse to do that.’ After clipping Phan back to the clothesline, Callie walked over to the teenager, brushing white hairs off her black work skirt as she walked. ‘Why don’t you come and meet him?’
An anguished look crossed Lyndall’s face. She wrung her hands, staring at Phantom.
‘You can do this, sweetie,’ said her mother. ‘I know you can.’
‘A few steps?’ asked Callie.
Lyndall inhaled long and hard, holding her breath as she jerked a few nervous nods.
‘Good girl.’ Callie held out her hand. ‘You can hold my hand if you want.’
She blew out her breath but shook her head. ‘I’m okay.’
‘So a couple of steps?’ Callie took one, smiling when Lyndall followed, hesitant but moving forward all the same. Feeling hopeful, Callie took another. They were still a good three metres from the horse but for Lyndall that was close. A few seconds’ reluctance and the young girl followed again.
Callie let them stand there for a few moments, chatting about some of the adventures she and Phan used to get up to. How they’d disappear for hours, riding the paddocks and forest trails, dreaming her big horse dreams.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Okay.’
Callie observed her for a moment. The fall and subsequent seizure must have been terrifying for the teen to be so affected but if Lyndall wanted this she had to forge past her fear.
‘Do you think you could manage another few steps?’
When Lyndall nodded, Callie went through the slow process again. Lyndall’s eyes rarely left Phantom. One move and Callie was sure she’d bolt, but Phantom remained his dependable, stoic self and stayed exactly where he was, making no move bar the occasional swish of his tail and mane to fend off flies.
Fifteen minutes of step-by-stepping and Callie managed to coax Lyndall within a metre of the horse, far closer than she’d even dared hope on their first try. A foot stamp finally sent the teen throttling backward, a mewl of fear escaping her mouth. Kate sighed but Callie remained optimistic. They’d made excellent progress and for the first time, instead of misery, hope flowered in Lyndall’s expression. A few more sessions and Callie envisioned her having enough courage to touch Phan’s nose.
