Jodie and Misti Chapter Three

Instructions

After Aunt Elinor and I look after the rescues, she takes me to the tack room. ''In case you ever do go riding again,'' she says. I nod. She finds me a pair of breeches, which are a little too small for me, and a helmet and boots. Elinor smiles at me. ''I'm not sure I will,'' I say, but when we head out I thank her. Mum seems a little surprised, but she thanks Elinor too. ''We'll be going, then,'' Mum says firmly. Elinor nods, tucking in a strand of her expensive blond-streaked hair. I wave to Elinor, and she smiles back. The drive home is mostly silent. I stare out the window, watching the fields blur by, feeling the mix of excitement and dread tightening in my chest. I know Mum notices but doesn’t press me. I think about the day I fell - Storm rearing, the pain in my leg, the panic - but something about seeing Elinor again, even for just a few minutes, stirs something faint but stubborn in me: maybe I can face this fear. At home, I drop my bag onto the floor and lay my breeches on my bed, just in case. Mum goes into the kitchen, calling about making tea, and I wander into the kitchen, my helmet still on. I undo the straps and turn it over, imagining myself wearing it again. I know I'm not ready to ride again - maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for some time. But maybe, someday, I'll ride again. It's been a few days after our visit to Elinor now. Elinor has called, sounding brisk, maybe a little impatient, but I know she's expecting me to come. ''I've got some work at the stables with a few foals,'' she says. ''If you want to help out, be there at 10 with your helmet and breeches.'' I swallow, but I don't refuse. I can't. When Mum drops me off at Aunt Elinor's house, she's already waiting, her hands folded and in her best riding outfit. She shows me the horses, but there's no talk of riding yet. ''I thought you'd like to see a new rescue,'' she says. I follow her to the stables. Forrest whinnies, recognising me. I greet him back. ''Pretty, isn't she,'' she says, with a hint of pride in her voice. I look up at her with awe. Her coat is shiny, obviously well-kept, and her black mane done into careful and complicated braids. She moves forward a little, then holds her head high. ''What's... What's her name?'' I ask. ''Misti,'' says Elinor. ''I'm not sure what type of a name that is for a horse,'' Misti looks at me expectantly at the sound of her name, as if she's demanding me for apples. I find a granola bar in my pocket and offer a piece to her. She nickers softly and eats it. ''Don't feed her too many treats,'' Elinor says sharply. I nod my head vigorously and secretly feed her the rest of the bar. After that, she loses all interest in me. ''If you'd like to let her out, then you can,'' Elinor suggests. ''That's a good idea,'' I agree, as the stall door swings open.