“One bar, one jump,” Iona repeated, and glanced at Sarah’s mother as she started to the bars. She hefted one, maneuvered it in place.
Just three feet, she thought, and believed her student could handle it. If not, the horse would know.
She looked back at the horse now.
She wants to fly, wants to feel you fly with her. Keep it steady.
Iona stepped back, noted Sarah’s mother twisted the ends of the scarf she wore around her neck.
“All right, Sarah. It’s only one bar, but you have to let Winnie know you’re in it together. Trust her, and let her know she can trust you. Eyes open, let’s have a good, steady pace, and remember your form.”
Her heart was pounding, Iona knew. With such excitement, and some nerves. Still a beginner’s course, even with the single additional bar, but a new challenge, a new hope.
“Good, that’s good,” she called out, circling as Sarah took Winnie around the course. “Posture, Sarah, light hands. You both know what to do.”
Set, she thought, steady and smooth. Gather. And go.
She flew a little herself as she watched her student soar cleanly over the bar, land well, adjust. Then wave one hand over her head in triumph.
“Oh, it’s like magick, it is! Can’t I do it again, Iona? Just once more?”
“Once more around, then Winnie needs her rubdown.”
She watched now with a critical eye, noting little things they’d work on.
“I feel I could do it forever, and jump twice as high.”
“One bar at a time,” Iona told her.
“Did you see, Ma! Did you see me?”
“I did. You were beautiful. Go on now, see to your horse, and we’ll go home and tell your da. Could I have a word?” she said to Iona.
“Sure. I’ll be right in, Sarah. And tell Mooney Winnie earned an apple.”
“I nearly made you stop,” Mrs. Hannigan told her. “I nearly called out to you, no, not yet. All I could see in my mind’s eye was Sarah flying off, lying on the ground with something broken.”
“It’s hard to let her push new boundaries.”
“Oh, it is indeed, and you’ll know yourself one day when you’ve children. But I knew, under it, you wouldn’t let her do something she wasn’t ready for. She’s doing so well with you, is so happy with you. I wanted you to know that.”
“She’s a joy to teach.”
“I think it shows in both of you. I took a picture with my phone when she did the jump.” She pulled the phone out, turned the screen to Iona. “My hand shook, I’m afraid, so it’s a bit blurry, but I knew I’d want to have that moment.”
Iona studied the screen, the flight—the young girl on the back of the sturdy horse, and the bar and air under them. She gave the slightest push, then turned the screen back.
“It’s a wonderful shot, and it’s clear and sharp. You can see the joy and the concentration on her face.”
Lips pursed, Mrs. Hannigan studied the photo again, then those lips curved. “Oh, it is good. It must’ve been my eyes blurry when I first looked at it.”
“You stay for every lesson.” Her mother hadn’t, Iona remembered. “I think it makes her strive to do better, knowing you’re here for her, that you support her.”
“Well of course I do. I’m her ma. I’m going to call her father right now, and tell him to pick up some strawberry ice cream. It’s her favorite. We’ll have a little celebration after dinner. I won’t keep you, but I wanted to thank you for building her confidence, and my own. They’re lucky to have you here.”
Iona wasn’t sure her boots touched the ground all the way into the stables. She stopped when her eyes adjusted to the change of light and she spotted Boyle.
“I didn’t know you were here.”