Such a life changing decision should have been accompanied by fanfare, trumpets and at least a crack in the earth’s crust. Instead, Corey looked at Deleilah Dereham with passive interest. “Yeah, dunno no Hectors,” he said, rubbing his square hand over his jaw. He jerked his head towards the bowl of water and the ruined ball of cotton wool. “What you gonna do with that?”
“Leilah!” Vaughan’s shout sounded weak and he leaned on the balustrade around the porch with his head low. Without speaking, she ran the distance between them, skipping up the stairs and resting her hand on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong? Are you worse?”
Vaughan shook his head, his voice hoarse. “I thought you’d left.” Grey-faced he stared up at her and she stroked the soft fringe away from his eyes.
“I must leave eventually.” Regret laced her voice. “People will wonder where I am.”
“What people?” Vaughan searched her face, stripping her soul bare with his perception.
“Just people.”
“Leilah, stay with me. Just for a while. Please?” It cost him to ask in a tone only a whisker away from begging and Leilah nodded.
“Ok. For a while.”
“What we gonna do about this horse?” Corey called from the pen, hands on hips. Vaughan groaned in reply and Leilah walked back towards the pen.
“Maybe she’ll let me clean the cuts. She seemed keen to get into the float and tolerated me being around her.”
Corey shrugged and bent to retrieve the bowl of fluid. “Not much in here,” he remarked and Leilah scowled.
“I’ll get into the pen and you hand me it.”
“Not much in here,” he repeated. “You’ve dropped one ball of fluff. You can’t use that.”
Leilah grimaced and clambered over the top rail of the fence in her dress. Corey raised an eyebrow at the flash of leg he got and she glared at him. “I’m old enough to be your mother, so pack that in right now.”
“I like older women.” Corey grinned and Leilah smirked at his gangly attempt at charm. “I’m nineteen,” he said as though that might convince her.
“Shut up.” Leilah approached the mares, hoping the small penned area would give her an advantage and stop her needing to chase Hinga. The strappy sandals clip clopped on the hard ground and both mares raised their heads in alarm. Hinga blew out a blast of hot air, the snort a warning as her ears flicked back and forth in a rapid movement. “Hey, girl,” Leilah crooned. “Is it nice to be home? I need to look at your cuts and make sure they’re healing. And those hooves look terrible too.”
Hinga didn’t appreciate the unflattering appraisal and tensed her body ready to run. The pen ate up twenty metres by twenty which sounded a lot, but not when shared with two half-tonne animals who would much rather she left. Leilah continued towards the mares, concern for the open wounds making her careless. Hector Dereham’s voice screamed in her head that she was doing this all wrong and she pushed him away in foolish rebellion. “I know I should be patient but I need to look.”
The other mare stood with a quizzical mask of curiosity on her face, a blade of grass hanging from her lip. Hinga’s belly gurgled with the contents of most of the pen’s grass and she lifted her tail and spattered dung in a stream of wet nerves. It hit the fence rails and rebounded in shuddering drips, splashing onto Leilah’s dress. “Aargh!” she exclaimed and took a step back. The action was enough to act as the starting gun for the frightened mare and she took off in a standing leap, hurtling around the pen like an item of clothing in a manic washing machine. Whipped up by excitement and fear, the other mare joined her. Leilah heard Corey’s swearword and Vaughan shout a warning from the porch but too late. The young male’s entrance into the pen proved too much for the man-shy Hinga and she changed direction, cutting across the centre to avoid Corey and flattening Leilah. Hinga’s shoulder laid her out flat and knocked the air from her lungs. She lay face down in the dirt with her chest heaving in an agony of suffocation.
The other mare only just managed to avoid trampling the fallen woman as she ran, pushing Hinga away and deflecting a spiteful aimed kick at Leilah’s head.
“Get up! Get up!” Corey urged, dodging hooves as he shoved Leilah onto her back and dragged her up by her arms.
“Is she ok?” Vaughan sounded anxious as he jogged across the lawn, a shaking hand gripping his stomach.
“Just winded,” Corey called back, lifting Leilah into his arms. “Keep them over there.” He jerked his head towards the mares who hovered near the furthest fence and Vaughan climbed onto the bottom rail and waved his arms. His faithful mount nodded like she enjoyed the game but Hinga postured and stamped in fury, white rims circling her terrified brown eyes.
“Gilroy’s messed that horse up good,” Corey remarked, fumbling the gate catch whilst still clutching Leilah. “That’s gonna take some sorting. I hope ya gave him back less than he paid for her.”
Vaughan shook his head and climbed down. “I paid him the same. Don’t need the aggro.” He closed the gate after Corey and followed him to the front steps. Leilah clutched her chest and gasped for air as the young man sat her upright on the porch steps.
“She’s bleeding.” Vaughan took Leilah’s chin in his hand and used the bottom of his shirt to clean blood from her chin.
“Maybe bit the inside of her mouth as she fell.”
“You shouldn’t have gone in there. Harvey’s made her terrified of men.”
“The woman?” Corey sounded surprised and eyed Leilah with apprehension.
“No, the bloody horse! Get her a drink of water.”
“The horse.”
“No! Leilah!”
She heard Corey’s quick steps up to the house and the sound of the ranch slider opening. Leilah’s body felt battered and her breath came in heaves as her lungs fought for equilibrium. Humiliation prickled up her spine and she figured Corey must have seen her knickers as she lay face down on the ground. So much for dignity.
“How you feeling?” Vaughan slumped next to her on the step and Leilah covered her eyes in misery. “I did everything wrong,” she muttered. “Dad would say it served me right.”
“Yeah, well he’s not here.” The comforting rumble of Vaughan’s voice negated the cruelty of the statement. “And it’s probably been a long time since you broke in a horse.” He reached for Leilah’s hands and pulled them away from her face, rubbing course fingers over hers. Glancing across at Hinga, he said, “She can wait until tomorrow now. It looks like the cuts are scabbing on her face and the others will have to be ok. I’ll nip to the vets in the morning and grab some antibiotic powder to put in the dry feed. We’ll start from scratch with her; it won’t take long.”
“But she seemed fine with me on the way home.” Leilah heard the unattractive whine in her voice.
Vaughan turned her face to look at her and his words were eternal, striking at an inner wound in Leilah’s soul. “Yeah, but we’ll latch onto anyone when we’re scared or need an escape. It doesn’t mean we’re happy with our choices afterwards.”
Leilah nodded and sighed, her lungs burning and her cut lip jagged and painful. “Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered. “It’s the story of my life.”