Deleilah Page 12

  “Leilah.” Vaughan whispered her name and his eyes flashed. He settled his lips over hers and pulled her closer. Leilah had no time to answer as he intensified the kiss and she was snatched back in time to another day a lifetime ago. His beard growth grazed her cheeks and chin and Leilah felt her stomach plunge into her knees as she closed her eyes and submitted. Vaughan’s fingers massaged the back of her neck in a gentle, rhythmic motion and she breathed in the strength and maleness of him. When his lips moved down the side of her face to her collar bone, Leilah let the moment run, releasing her fragile hold on circumstance for a second, until she felt him nip the soft skin beneath her ear. She jumped as though slapped and leapt backwards, hearing Vaughan gasp in pain at the push she gave his chest.

  “No,” she said, a tearful catch in her voice. Rubbing her fingers across her face, Leilah felt the heat of embarrassment build in her cheeks and shoved her way through the gate. “What do you want me to do with this horse?” she asked, her tone angry as she struggled to navigate the awkwardness.

  Vaughan’s tone expressed his hurt and bewilderment even as Leilah avoided the pain in his eyes. “She needs to be desensitised again.” He swallowed, his voice wavering. “He’s ruined her; I don’t think she’ll trust a guy again. But you could work with her.”

  Leilah shook her head. “I won’t be here long enough to make a difference.” She put an uncharacteristic hardness into her reply, drawing the boundary and stepping over it. “I’ll be leaving as soon as I can get a ride to town.”

  Vaughan chewed his bottom lip and then nodded. He pushed his cowboy hat back on his head with a shaking index finger and inhaled, a sharp snort which sounded like an indignant Arab. “Fine. Just do today for me, please?” His brow knitted as he pointed at the mare’s cracked hooves. “At least rasp her feet. I can’t do it.”

  Leilah waited while he closed the gate behind her, watching from the corner of her eye as he climbed onto the top rung of the post and rail fence and settled there, one hand clutching the longest of his wounds. “What am I doing first?” she asked, through gritted teeth.

  “Walk around and work out where the crap is,” he replied, his tone serious. “Then get the wheelbarrow and shovel it up.”

  Leilah whipped around and put her hands on her hips. “You want me to shovel shit?” She shook her head. “I’m not your nurse and I’m definitely not your lackey.” She put her hand on the top rail of the metal gate and Vaughan reached across and gripped her fingers.

  “I know that. You said you’d help so do as I ask.”

  With an angry sigh, Leilah prowled the pen, seeking out the bits of dung caught in the longer blades of grass. Hinga watched every move, her brown eyes so wide Leilah saw the white rims encircling them.

  “Whistle or something,” Vaughan shouted from his vantage point. “And drop the dirty attitude. She can sense it.”

  Leilah cursed under her breath, a barrage of unpleasant terms she wouldn’t dare repeat out loud. She clattered back through the gate and grabbed the wheelbarrow and shovel, pushing them close to the fence. Without looking at Vaughan, she made numerous trips back and forth across the pen, shoving balls of dung into the wide shovel with the side of her boot and tipping them over the fence into the barrow. “Men and their shit,” she hissed in anger, watching the barrow as it filled to over half way. The mares tolerated her presence, grazing near the edges and moving away as she approached. Leilah ignored them both until they grew curious. A night of safety had given Hinga valuable companionship and she seemed calmer, showing more of what she might have once been.

  When Leilah felt the first delicate sniffs against her waist, the moment captivated her and her heart plunged into her borrowed boots. She stood still, allowing Hinga’s companion to check her out, the hesitant contact overpowering in its naked simplicity. The Appaloosa sniffed her clothes, hair and boots, moving with a grace and dignity she hadn’t expected. “What do you want?” Leilah soothed, feeling the long, hot breaths drift up her legs and into her core. The mare exhaled in a long snuff which left moisture on Leilah’s forearm.

  Leilah closed her eyes and allowed her mind to transport itself back to her childhood. The small bay pony Hector found at the sale yards at Te Awamutu was loyal and trustworthy. Her best companion for many years, he taught her patience, determination and other things a country girl can only learn from farm animals. She learned her will was stronger than anything else over the one-ton variety as long as she believed in herself. She had once. Believed in herself.

  The mare sniffed her face, seeking reassurance and Leilah stood still and allowed the intrusion. “What the hell am I doing here?” she whispered and the mare snuffed and leaned her forehead against Leilah’s elbow, rubbing her long blaze up and down to satiate an itch. “It’s easy for you.” Leilah resisted the lonely song of her heart. “You do as you’re told. The stallion decides he fancies you and after a quick fumble you’re pregnant. No emotion, no regrets.” Leilah scratched the mare’s hard cheek and heard her sigh.

  Another set of front hooves appeared in Leilah’s peripheral vision as Hinga edged closer, keen to enjoy the same contact as her companion. Leilah sensed Vaughan’s gaze on her face and turned away to mask her flush. Her lips felt bruised from the rough urgency of his kiss and she squeezed her emotions back into Pandora’s horrible box and locked it.

  “Hinga’s behind you,” Vaughan said, his voice a low drone, passing information without startling the mare. “Ignore her until she wants your attention more than you want hers.”

  “Ok.” Leilah turned her back on Hinga and brushed the other mare with her hand. She smoothed the slick hair flat along her withers and ran her fingers down the long flank, feeling the bunched muscle beneath her palm. Facing away from Vaughan, she pressed her face against the corded muscles of the dappled shoulder and closed her eyes. “I hate my life,” she confessed in a hushed whisper. The mare exhaled sending grass seed and moist air as a light covering over Leilah’s thigh and the woman scented the soft, sweet smell of horse and wished God would give her a break.

  Chapter 25

  Progress

  Leila’s stomach growled as she raised the end of the lunge rope for the millionth time and flicked it. Hinga moved away, circling her in obedience at a steady trot. The Appaloosa stood near the back fence, grazing the tufty grass with lazy enjoyment.

  “Again!” Vaughan called, demanding perfection as he saw how responsive Hinga was to Leilah and she sighed. Dropping her head, she stood still and waited for Hinga to cease the steady trot and turn to face her. The mare hooked onto the new human authority in her life with surprising willingness after the previous day’s antics.

  “No. I’m done.” Leilah put determination into her voice. “I’ve had enough for today and so has she.”

  “But you haven’t cleaned her cuts or rasped her hooves!” Leilah heard the desperation in Vaughan’s voice and closed her eyes. Hinga pressed forward until Leilah felt the puffing breaths on her flesh. She raised a gentle hand and rubbed the downy forehead. “Good girl. You’ve done well. Enough for today, hey?” She reached up and loosed the knot in the rope head collar, allowing it to slide away from the mare’s face. The thick scabs remained, undisturbed by the loose rope. “I’ll groom you tomorrow,” she promised. “And take a proper look at you, but you’re moving fine and haven’t forgotten everything.” Leilah patted the supple neck, loving the slapping sound as it echoed around the mountains. Her heart ached for Hector, for wasted moments, lost opportunities and the life she’d abandoned.

  Leilah turned and walked towards the gate, gratified by the sound of hooves clopping behind her. “Good girl,” she soothed, stroking the noble forehead as she exited. “How about some decent feed?” Spotting the conflict in Vaughan’s eyes, Leilah warned him. “Don’t touch her! If you rush it and ruin what I’ve achieved today, I’m leaving and you’ll be stuck with a mare that’s no good.”

  “You’re leaving anyway,” he grumbled, following Leilah to the tac
k shed. “I’m stuck with her no matter what.”

  Leilah turned, not realising he’d walked so close behind her. Vaughan’s shirt brushed her breasts. “My father taught you everything he knew.” Leilah put her palm against the soft fabric, feeling the muscle beneath. “You could bring her around eventually.”

  “Not like this!” Vaughan’s eyes flashed desperation and he pointed at his stomach. His eyes rolled with impatience and Leilah removed her hand, alarmed when he grabbed it, clasping her fingers in his and forcing her to still. “Don’t go,” he begged. “Please stay and help me?”

  “You’ve got Corey.” Leilah shook her hand free. “He can help you.”

  Vaughan shook his head. “He does the fences and maintenance stuff. I’ve got a beef herd on the lower slopes and he runs that. I do the horses; it’s how we work.”

  Leilah swallowed and picked her words with care. “This town is toxic for me, Vaughan. I’d love to go back in time and start again but it won’t work.”

  “Please?” Worry channelled from his eyes into hers, communicating anxiety and something akin to fear. “Just stay long enough to help me with Hinga. There’s things you don’t know but I’m asking because I’m desperate, Lei. Please?” Vaughan reached for a lock of Leilah’s hair, twirling it in his fingers without thought, the action providing a calming effect so the desperation in his face lessened. “Please?” he asked again, a man unused to pleading.

  “Ok.” Leilah heard herself say the word and something in her soul rejoiced. “I’ll stay for a few more days.”

  Vaughan kept his relief hidden behind a businesslike nod. He released her hair and strode for the house, jabbing a finger at the tack shed. “I’ve got two bags of feed in there and the buckets are on a hook. Corey picked up antibiotics earlier; they’re in the kitchen.”

  Leilah stood and watched his retreating back, troubled by the stiffness in his bearing and the way his hand shook as he ran it through his hair. “What’s going on?” she called but Vaughan ignored her, entering the house in his dusty boots and escaping her concern.

  Leilah made up the feed from the bags. The first contained chaff and the second revealed a delicious combination of grain and molasses to help muscle tone. She sighed and pushed her face in the bag, relishing the heady, familiar scent. The buckets hung from a nail and Leilah snagged them, scooping a few handfuls of the feed into each. An array of tubs on a shelf above her head disgorged essential minerals in powdered form, salt and selenium plus other seasonal feed additives for binding up the toxins in sweet spring grass. She emerged from the tack shed with the buckets and shielded her eyes from the sun, staring towards the front porch. A tub of antibiotic powder sat on the top step and Leilah shook her head in exasperation and strolled towards it. The mares snorted and stamped in the pen, excited about the buckets. “Wait a minute,” she called over her shoulder, hearing the clang of the gate as Vaughan’s mare nudged it with her shoulder.

  Leilah popped the lid on the tub and opened the foil packaging inside. The scent of fake apples rose up and made her sneeze. Pulling out the leaflet, she unfolded it and read the instructions, using the enclosed spoon to ladle the correct amount into the bucket on the left. She resealed the tub and cast an irritated glance at the French doors, seeing nobody in the lounge.

  The mares jostled for the feed buckets and settled into eating as soon as Leilah put them on the ground. “Stay away from Hinga’s,” Leilah warned the other mare, knowing they both ignored her. The sound of equine teeth crunching on grain filled the air and Leilah used Hinga’s distraction to inspect her tortured body. She ran her hand over the dense fur, feeling the skin crawl beneath her palm. The mare turned an anxious face in her direction and then settled, deciding Leilah represented structure, safety and comfort food.

  “He whipped you with something hard,” Leilah muttered, hating Harvey for his cruelty. She ran her fingers over healed welts where the darker hair grew back white in lines. Taking her life in her hands, Leilah ran her palms down Hinga’s legs, using deft fingers to examine long bones and joints in a fluid movement. “You move fine, so I guess there’s no breaks or fractures.” She peered at the dinner-plate hooves and risked lifting one. Hinga obeyed, shifting her weight to release the foot. “Your frogs look ok. Maybe a good rasp will sort them out.” Leilah poked at a crack and wrinkled her nose. “I could treat them with hoof oil and tar if you’ll let me,” she mused. “I wonder if you will.”

  Hinga sighed, blowing out a cloud of chaff. Vaughan’s mare finished her bucket and nosed across at Hinga’s, snuffing and moving her lips towards the tantalising feed. Leilah pulled her face away, her palm against the soft cheek. “Oh, no you don’t, missy.” She rubbed the hard forehead and distracted her, kissing the bristly nose as it explored her face. “I don’t even know your name,” Leilah said. “Maybe old grumpy-guts never gave you one.”

  Hinga finished licking out the bucket and nuzzled Leilah’s tee shirt for more. Her breath smelled of molasses and apple and the other mare sniffed her lips. As Leilah bent to collect the empty buckets, the females showed their disdain and ambled towards the other side of the pen, sheltering beneath the ancient oaks which offered shade, centuries old.

  Chapter 26

  A Chance Outing

  Leilah closed the gate on the dozing mares, hearing the swish of lazy tails as they nuked flies with steady, instinctive regularity. She hosed out the buckets under a tap attached to the tack room wall and hung them up, placing the tub of antibiotic on the shelf.

  “Nice bum.” Corey cackled like an old man as he reached into the darkened space for a head collar. He snorted at the horror in Leilah’s face and winked. “I’m riding up the mountain. Wanna come?”

  Leilah shook her head. “I’m not interested in someone young enough to be my son.”

  “Shame.” Corey shrugged. “But you can still ride out with me if you want.”

  Leilah glanced back towards the silent house and contemplated her promise to Vaughan. He wanted her to stay but made little effort with the awkward atmosphere. “I want to,” she replied, staring at Corey. “But if you touch me, I’ll break your legs.”

  He pulled a face and Leilah jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m not kidding. I’m done with being pushed around by men.”

  “Fair enough.” Corey raised his hands in submission. “I just wanted some company.”

  Leilah snagged a battered crash hat from the tack room and set off after Corey. He dangled two rope halters in his hand and let out a low whistle. A chestnut mare sauntered across a wide paddock, her ears forward with eager anticipation. “Come on, girl!” Corey urged, his impatience rewarded with a flick of her right ear. He jerked his head towards Leilah. “Just grab whoever turns up next. Except the bay. He’s Vaughan’s and you won’t be able to ride him.” Corey opened the gate and approached the chestnut, knotting the rope halter on her head and letting the rope trail over her neck.

  “You’re riding bare back?” Fear speckled Leilah’s tone and Corey stopped and watched her with interest.

  “I can get you some proper tack,” he offered and Leilah nodded.

  “I ride little and I’m rusty. Riding without a bit is fine but if we’re climbing the mountain I’d appreciate a saddle.”

  “No worries.” Corey led his mare to the fence and put a loose knot in the lead rope. “Just pick one of the others and I’ll grab a saddle that fits them.” He jabbed his fingers at the gathering crowd and Leilah drew in an awed breath.

  Leilah didn’t have to pick anyone because the horse chose her. He approached from the head of the knot of curious four-legged observers, confident and bold. He raised his nostrils to Leilah’s face and sensed her intent, covering her face with warm, grass-scented horse breath. Then he shoved her shoulder with his forehead. “I’ll take this one,” Leilah said, frowning at the familiar conformation of the solid body and gently rounded face. “He’s a Kaimanawa, isn’t he?”

  “Oh, you can’t ride that one. He’s Vaughan’s.”
Regret screwed up Corey’s face and Leilah put a hand on her hip in defiance. Devilment placed steel in her spine.

  “Just get the saddle for him,” she snapped, snatching up the second head collar and fixing it over the bay gelding’s face. She checked the enormous feet and ran a curry comb over his huge body while Corey sloped back to the tack room. The youth dragged his feet and lost some of his natural assurance. When he returned with the saddle and a quilted cloth for underneath, he looked wrong-footed. “Vaughan won’t like it,” he maintained, his eyes wide. “He’ll go nuts.”

  “He’s already nuts,” Leilah bit, her tone nasty. “And he’ll shout at me, not you.” She hefted the heavy Western saddle from the top rail of the fence and added it to the cloth on the horse’s back, careful not to thump it down. Her fingers shook as she caressed the intricate detail decorating the leather skirt of Hector’s most prized possession, doing up the wide girth and trying not to shed tears before the stranger. Corey gave her a leg up and Leilah closed her eyes against the familiarity of the curves against her bum, feeling the horse shudder beneath her as she communicated grief and loss through the unseen thread of connection.

  Corey used a hoof pick and the curry comb, sending up a cloud of hairy dust from the chestnut mare. Then he mounted up from the top rail of the fence and set off through the paddock, easing the mare into her work with a brisk walk to warm up. Leilah adjusted the long stirrup leathers and followed, trotting to catch him. “Where are the cows?” she asked, puffing with exertion.

  “Bush line,” he called back. “We’ll ride south and then follow the bush. Next door’s for sale and the agent asked us to keep the grass short.” Corey shot Leilah a blistering smile. “All good for us. We’ve ridden the drought fine this year with having the extra grazing.”

  Leilah felt her chest tighten and caught up to Corey. “Next door? Over there?” She waved a trembling hand towards the white house on the hill and he nodded with enthusiasm. “I can’t go there.” Leilah’s voice sounded flat and her heart thudded in her breast.