Rescue Heart

Chapter Ten

I am so sorry about how terribly overdue this update is. I've been so busy, and I could supply you with a million and one excuses for why I've taken so long. Instead though, I'll just keep this short and let you get on with reading this chapter.

As a wee side note too, I was listening to my fave Vance Joy and realised his song 'Mess Is Mine' perfectly sums up the whole Ollie x Tess relationship... you should definitely give it a listen!

Apologies for any errors... I just wanted to get this to you A.S.A.P so it hasn't been proofread :'p

C h a p t e r  . T  e n

“One, two, three, change. One, two, three change. One, two, three…”

I could hear Helen count softly under her breath as she cantered in a twenty metre circle, practising her tempi changes. From where I stood at A, I had a perfect position to observe as she tried out the brand new arena surface. It had been delivered this morning, and there was no horse here more suitable to try it out than big Espi, who moved with feather-light grace on it. He was so elegant, most definitely a black beauty. His tail streamed behind him like a ribbon, mane flowing in the breeze. The changes looked absolutely effortless, even when they worked their way up to a circle of one-time tempi-changes.

After a circle of clean, seamlessly-executed one’s, Helen came down to walk simply with her seat and she fed the reins to Espoir. He stretched out as he walked, his stride still ground-covering despite all the tiring work he had done, and he chewed on his snaffle contentedly. Meanwhile, Helen dropped all rein contact to glance at her watch and readjust her gloves.

“Well, the surface is a success,” my coach remarked, smiling wryly. “And with the new drainage system in place hopefully it won’t flood. Given the weather, I’m not holding out hope on a dry summer of training. Until we can afford to construct an indoor arena, this will have to do.”

There were so many exciting plans in place to enable us to broaden our horizons, the light at the end of what seemed like a very long tunnel. With the help of Tom, over the last few days Helen and I had meticulously laid out a plan for the next year. The most important aspect of the plan was to get Corrie’s Edge Farm back up to scratch again. The arena had been majorly improved, with the fence maintained and the surface re-done. Next, the conversion on the old sheep barn had been arranged, and in two weeks work would be starting to strengthen the structure and install ten stables as well as a custom-built box specifically suited to a mare and foal. The fields would also be carefully sectioned, with a field-rotation system in place as well as planning for field groups.

With regards to the horses themselves, there were a lot of things to organise. Helen and Espoir were entered for three Grand Prix competitions over the summer, not too much for his first year but still enough for the gelding to get out and about at that level. Two of them were in England, one of them in Germany. The one in Germany fell in July, at which point Helen would also take the opportunity to travel many of the native stud farms to select a few German-bred Warmblood youngsters.

The plan from there would be to back, school and compete youngsters, getting them to a point where they would sell for a good price, or potentially go further. With the rescues, I had made it clear that Fergus was here for the rest of his days. The little black Shetland would be going absolutely nowhere any time soon. Diva would be brought on and competed a little when ready. She would also stay unless the right rider came along to take the reins and take her to the next level.

The plans for Duchess and the foals were a little different. Given the difficult situation with Warrior’s health, it still remained uncertain whether the touch-and-go filly would make it out of the woods, and what sort of future she would have. She and her brother had been bred for eventing, and would be out of place in the future here at a dressage-oriented yard. I knew in my heart that probably it would be best for her and Gladiator to one day go to a home where they could excel in their destined fields – if they made it that far. And for Duchess, the fine lady herself was the perfect horse for a woman or teenager looking to show or compete lightly. As hard as it would be to say goodbye when the time came round, I knew it would be wrong to keep her here and waste her opportunities out of sentimentality. Rescuing and rehabilitating her had been our job, securing her a better future.