Rocking Horse Hill by Cathryn Hein

Author:Cathryn Hein
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781743483992
Publisher: Penguin Random House Australia
Published: 2014-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

‘I think I hate her,’ said Jas. ‘It’s unfair enough that she’s beautiful, but to look so bloody good on a horse as well?’ She shook her head in mock disgust. ‘There is no God.’

Em smiled and continued to observe Lod as he picked his way around a worn, circular track. Upon Jasmine’s arrival, confident that Felicity was in no danger of falling off or mistreating her mount, Em had left Digby in charge of the long lunge rein attached to Lod’s bridle. They were in the paddock next to the stables, on the stretch of flat ground that Em had laser-levelled a few years earlier, and where she did most of her training. When she’d learned that Felicity would be coming out that afternoon for a riding lesson, and with Rocking Horse Hill only a short detour from her way home, Jas couldn’t resist calling in for a chat and sticky-beak.

Felicity sat in the saddle, wearing a new black velvet-covered helmet, her cheeks blossoming with cold and pleasure, not in the slightest afraid. Not that she needed to be. Lod had been the perfect gentleman from the moment she mounted, and though Digby had never been much of a horse enthusiast, he knew enough of Lod’s temperament not to fret and risk infecting Felicity with his nerves.

For someone who’d never been on a horse before, Felicity showed remarkable poise. Her body possessed an innate suppleness and, unlike many learners, she didn’t rely on the reins for balance. Instead, she seemed to find a natural centredness that allowed her to sit with ease in the saddle.

Perhaps it was the stylish new riding attire she wore that made her look so competent: the fashionable check breeches with a black, full-seat suede insert; the tall leather riding boots; the parka shaped like a hunting coat that narrowed her waist and accentuated her straight shoulders; the matching black nappa leather gloves. Clothing that expensive and well cut would make anyone look good.

Jas lifted her face to the sky as a cloud scudded past and revealed a sudden streak of sun. ‘At least I can feel smug that she’ll have sore thighs by the end.’

The weather still hadn’t cleared completely and the forecast predicted more chilling wind and rain squalls. Em hankered for spring. Her garden and paddocks were saturated and bedraggled, and she worried for the buds on the stone fruit trees. The chooks ran about with their feathers ruffled, clucking in discontent. Though she’d moved them to the most sheltered paddock, Kicki and Cutie had spent the week standing forlornly with their rumps to the wind, looking as dejected as Em felt. Only Chelsea seemed to be enjoying herself, zooming around the garden, plucking slugs and half-drowned snails, and snorkelling her orange beak through puddles.

Em had never minded winter. Winter meant fires and comfort food, a time for nesting, but this winter seemed to drag. She wanted spring, sunshine, happiness. The chance to trot Lod around the crater after work and watch

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