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Chapter 3
Chapter 3
All the way back to the farm, Jenny keeps the little window in the back of the cab open, talking softly to
the horse travelling in the rear, the mare responding with soft nickers. By the time they pull up, dropping
the tailgate to lead her out, she is nuzzling at Jenny, asking for attention.
“Are you going to keep the name, Jenny?”
“Can I?”
“She’s your horse. It’s up to you what to call her.”
Jenny scratches at ears which radar forward as the mare snuffs for the apple she knows lurks in a
pocket. “I’ll call her Charlie.”
“Charlie it is, then.”
“Where are we going to keep her?”
“She can have the stall next to Dancer. That’ll keep him happy too, and give them chance to get to
know each other before she has her season.”
“How will you know when that is?”
Mrs Collier gives her a wry glance. “Dancer will tell us when she’s ready. Don’t worry. We won’t miss it.”
“He’ll try to get to her?”
“He’ll probably kick the stall apart if we don’t let him at her when the time comes.”
Jenny swallows. “That sounds…. violent.”
“It’s just Dancer doing what comes naturally.”
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Charlie steps delicately through the long grass. Brilliantly green now after the warm rains and warmer
sunshine of early Summer, the grass sweeps around the legs of the horse as Jenny rides easily atop
her, swaying gently with the movement of her mount. Her long hair glints copper in the sunshine,
complementing the bronze highlights on the face of the horse.
A nudge from the heels and the pair pick up pace, the girl making an easy up-down cadence as they
move through a trot, then a canter, before breaking into full gallop through the emerald sea. The mare’s
mane and tail are a coursing black stream, flowing through the air to match Jenny’s hair, which ripples
behind her, a fluid line of red.
A small group watches from the gate, Chad and his parents chatting with Mrs Collier.
“She’s developing into a first-class rider, and that’s a fact,” comments Mr Bennett.
“She’s certainly a lovely looking girl,” replies his wife, “Eh, Chad?”
Chad watches the galloping pair, entranced. “It's the most beautiful thing I ever saw,” he breathes.
Mrs Bennett watches intently, then nudges his father, eye-pointing their son. He takes the hint. “Why
don't you ask Jenny over to have a meal with us some time?”
“Could I? I’d like that.”
“Of course you can. That would be alright, wouldn’t it, Eleanor?”
“If Jenny would like to, then it’s fine by me.”
*****
At the end of the track, Chad is waiting. As usual, he takes Jenny’s school bag, slinging it over his
shoulder. But this morning, he proffers something to her, smiling a little timidly. “I have something for
you.”
Jenny looks at the offering in Chad’s hand; pale mauve, tiny and delicate. “Flowers? For me?”
“They’re violets. I found the last few under the hedgerow. They’re almost finished for the summer now,
but I saw them and, well, I thought of you.”
She doesn’t move and after a moment, Chad droops a bit. “Don’t you like them?”
“Oh, yes.” She reaches to take the tiny blooms. “They’re beautiful. No-one’s ever given me flowers
before.”
Jenny holds them to her nose. “They smell lovely. Thank you, Chad.” And his blue eyes swim as shyly,
her gaze shifts to his and she smiles.
*****
“Those are pretty, Jenny,” says Mrs Collier, as she sees the miniature bouquet peeking from a glass of
water in Jenny’s bedroom. “You must have searched high and low to find them this late in the season.”
Colour pinks at Jenny’s cheeks. “Chad gave them to me.” She sucks at her lower lip, looking away.
“Did he now? You’d better look after them then, hadn’t you.”
Mrs Collier regards the girl before her, now so different from the red-eyed, scrawny creature who first
arrived. Tall, lithe and becoming full-figured; vivid green eyes look out from porcelain skin, all framed by
a tumble of glossy auburn tresses. And the blush on her high cheekbones matches the tint at her lips.
She is quite lovely, and with growing maturity, is becoming beautiful.
“Do you know how to press flowers?”
Jenny’s brows knit. “Press them?”
“It’s a way of preserving flowers, rather than simply letting them die on you. Enjoy your violets for a day
or so, but before they wilt, I’ll show you how to press them, then you have them as a keepsake. I’ll find
a couple of old newspapers for you.”
*****
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Jenny. I don’t know anyone else like you. I want to be with you all of the
time. Forever.”
Jenny’s gaze is mesmerised. “Really? All the time?”
“Yes, really. Jenny, why don’t we get married? Then we can be together forever.”
She frowns. “But we’re too young to get married.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Chad is all enthusiasm, his hands waving wildly as he speaks. “It's our last year
at school. We could get married next year. Or the year after that. It’ll be forever anyway, won’t it, once
we do it? So, waiting a while doesn’t matter. We can just… agree….that’s what we’re going to do.”
Chin trembling a little, her startling green gaze swimming, “You really want to marry me?”
“Yes, I do. Would you like to marry me?” He holds her at the shoulders. “Please say yes.”
She barely hesitates. “Oh, yes. Yes, I would.”
Chad breaks into a pumpkin smile. “Can I… kiss you?” He moves a little closer. She blinks, stepping
back. “Really,” he says, “Just a kiss. Nothing… else. That’s alright, isn’t it, if we’re getting married?”
Poised as though to run, her voice a whisper, “Alright then.”
Blinking hard, he inches towards her, taking her hands in his, then leaning in, his lips brush hers.
“Jenny…”
A voice drifts up. “Chad, Jenny? Out of that hay barn, please. Down here where I can see you.” Two
heads poke out to see Mrs Collier standing arms and legs akimbo, looking up. As she spots them, “And
that means right now, please.”
*****