The Healing Touch

  Chapter 8

  The barn was buzzing with tension, excitement and nerves, only two days before the show. The horses could feel it and were anxious, jittery and obstinate, as they couldn’t figure out what these nervous humans were all uptight about even as they felt the energy.

  Tory ran through the kitchen on her way upstairs to retrieve her helmet she’d forgotten, and found her father sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. As was so often the case, he was up most of the night on a call, and his radio was, as usual, strapped to his belt so he could bolt as soon as someone called him.

  “Dad,” Tory said. “What are you doing home?”

  “Just grabbing a cup of coffee before I head off for a training session,” he said. “What’s with all the running around here? Everyone’s half crazy. Grandma Nan is muttering to herself, Clara’s swearing like a sailor at the ATV, and you’re running around like a chicken with her head cut off, as Grandma Nan would say.”

  “Dad, the show is only two days away,” Tory said, horrified that he might have forgotten it. “Promise me you’ll be there to watch!”

  “Don’t worry Pumpkin,” he smiled. “I’ll be there to watch you steal the show. You’re going to be great. Clara told me how impressed she is with you. I can’t wait to see you get all those ribbons.”

  “Dad, no one wins ribbons the first show they go in,” said Tory. “Besides it’s not about winning ribbons, it’s about doing your best and pushing yourself,” she said, echoing Clara’s words to her.

  Tory’s father smiled. “That sounds like good Clara advice,” he said. “But you and Firefly will be great.”

  Tory smiled and gave her father a hug around the shoulders. “I’m impressed that you remembered Firefly’s name,” she said.

  “I know I haven’t been around much,” her father said as he rubbed his temples. “It’s just this work thing. The guys need so much help and they are so keen to learn and it’s a lot busier than I thought it would be. Nobody ever seems to get sick or hurt at a good time.”

  “I understand Dad,” Tory said. “But just promise me you’ll make it to the show. I want you to see how well I’m doing. Riding has become really important to me. It kind of makes me feel connected to Mom.”

  The squawk of the radio saved them both from a tearful moment as once again Tory’s Dad sprang into action, this time to back up a crew that was on scene with a man having a heart attack.

  “I love you Pumpkin,” Tory’s Dad called as he headed out the door.

  “Love you too Dad,” Tory whispered to the closed door. Then she shook off her memories and ran upstairs to find her helmet.

  When Tory raced back to the barn she was shocked to find it quiet and empty. Instead of the usual chatter, noises and laughing during the pre-lesson tack up, the lights were off and the only sounds were the contented crunch of horses munching on hay. Then Clara appeared from the tack room. Instead of wearing her usual riding pants and T-shirt, she was dressed in fitted skinny jeans and a pale green silk shirt that brought out her eyes. She had just a touch of make-up on and looked glamorous, not at all “horsey”.

  “What… you look great…but, what’s going on,” Tory stuttered out.

  “You and I are going shopping,” announced Clara.

  “But what about lessons and the show and practicing,” asked Tory?

  “Everyone is just too jittery to learn anything,” said Clara. “And you’ve all got the horses crazy. I sent everyone home to take a day off, and relax. We’ll get one more practice in tomorrow after everyone’s had a chance to breathe. But in the meantime, I’ve got a credit card from your father to go and buy you some new riding gear for the show. I thought you deserved something new instead of those second hand things you’ve been using and your father agreed. So we’re headed to the mainland!”

  Tory couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She hadn’t been on a shopping trip since they moved and she so wanted to look really sharp for the show. For a second it flashed through her mind to wonder when her father and Clara had a chance to talk, but before she had a second to ask, Clara was rushing her back to the house to change before they missed the ferry.

  Clara was as efficient and effective a shopper as she was a rider. She knew all the places to go and how to get there. The first place they stopped was the tack shop. Clara hesitated on the sidewalk outside the door. “The woman who runs this store is like about a hundred years old but she knows everything about tack and has the best prices anywhere. We’ll be able to get you outfitted perfectly here.”

  Clara was greeted with hugs and kisses by the “hundred- year- old woman” who only really looked about Grandma Nan’s age. “Clara, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” she said. “How are things on the Island? And how is my friend Nan?” Before Clara could even open her mouth to answer, the woman suddenly noticed Tory. “Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed and covered her gaping mouth with her well- manicured, multi-ringed hand. “You must be Samantha’s daughter. You are the splitting image of her. It’s like I’m seeing a ghost.” She turned to Clara. “Isn’t it remarkable Clara? And here you are, teaching your old friend’s daughter to ride. Samantha would be so pleased. Well then, enough with the emotions,” she said, quickly turning to business. “What do you need today?”

  Clara, sensing Tory might be overwhelmed by so much familiarity jumped in. “Well, Mrs. Carson we need show riding clothes for Tory. The whole works. She’s going in the fall show this weekend. It’s her first show, so we want her to look great.”

  “Well, that won’t be hard to do. With her height and shape she’s suited to riding gear that’s for sure,” said Mrs. Carson as she appraised Tory’s size. “Let’s see then.” She started sorting through riding jodhpurs on the rack. “I always think the white ones look the best for shows. Try these on for starters,” she said as she passed Tory three pairs of pants. “We’ll find some shirts to pass in to you. The dressing rooms are over there.”

  Tory pulled on the tight fitting pants just as Mrs. Carson handed a dress shirt in over the curtain.

  “Try this on with them and then let us see,” said Mrs. Carson. “Now what about boots,” she asked Clara?

  Clara nodded. “Yup, I got the go- ahead from Frank to get them too. ory’s Dad said to get everything she needs to feel like a star.”

  Tory couldn’t believe her ears. She had been wearing second hand paddock boots one of the other girls had outgrown and a pair of half chaps Grandma Nan had bought her on one of her numerous trips to town. Riding boots were so expensive. But the next thing she knew Mrs. Carson was asking her size and then passing her in a pair of the high black boots with the zippers up the back and the laces on the instep that Tory had been admiring in magazines for weeks.

  When everything was on, Tory stepped out of the dressing room. Both Mrs. Carson and Clara smiled their approval and Clara rushed to hug her. “You definitely look like a star,” said Clara. Firefly is going to be as impressed as your father!”

  Everyone laughed at that, and then suddenly Mrs. Carson gasped.