One Day You'll Find Me

One Day You’ll Find Me

by

Kelly Batten

One Day You'll Find Me

Copyright November 2014 Kelly Batten

Edited by: Janet Upcher

Cover Design by: BespokeBookCovers.com

Interior design by: IndieDesignz.com

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from copyright holder.

Contents

Prologue

PartOne

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Part Two

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Prologue

The soft patter of feet downstairs broke my heart. Tonight was the last time I would ever hear the familiar sound. I forced back my tears, straining my ears to hear. I waited for every step, knowing exactly how many there were from the kitchen to the front door. One, two three. With each step my heart rose further up my throat. Seven, eight, nine. The patter stopped. I froze.

I stared at the empty space she had occupied only a few minutes ago. She had stood at the end of her bed, resisting her urge to wake me up, to hold me close.

I heard a car start up and drive away. A slight breeze rustled the curtains in my mother’s bedroom through the windows I hadn’t quite shut. A moonbeam lit up where my mother had stood less than five minutes before. Tears welled in my eyes as I stared into the darkness.

Chapter One

"DAMIEN!" My mother screamed my father’s name from inside the house. I froze instantly in my tracks, halfway across the back garden. Straining my ears, I heard a low roar of words, met with a higher-pitched cry of frustration and astonishment. Knowing what was going on inside, but seeing the approaching storm closing in, I was left in conflict so stood rooted to the spot. Weighing up my options, I focused my attention on the house, and the decision was made for me when I heard Mum yell my name loud and clear:

Maria deserves better than this!

I turned on my heels and bolted into the garden. Shakily setting myself in my hammock, I stared up at the darkening sky, the slight wind gently rocking my cocoon from side to side. The fighting wasn’t such an unusual occurrence anymore. But this time… this time it felt different. The others were just unsettling; this one had me nervous. So nervous my foot was twitching, my fingers tapping to hide the slight tremble of my hand. I couldn’t imagine what they were fighting about. No, that was a lie. Dad had been constantly aggravated for weeks now. His huge workload didn’t help, but as it never subsided, I was starting to think he piled it on deliberately. But why? More work meant less time with us, less time with me. Didn’t he love me anymore? The thought scared me. It was less than a month ago that he’d brought home Molly. He’d taken me outside, and there she was with a great big bow around her neck. Instantly she’d started yapping for attention, and I’d squealed in delight and scooped her up, the tiny little fluff ball of a puppy that she was. Putting her down, I’d run at Dad, and he’d picked me up and spun me round, a big goofy grin on his face, telling me every nine year-old deserves a puppy for a best friend. But that day was a rarity. He hadn’t done something like that for ages.

A commotion on the veranda of our two-storey farm house made me strain my ears again. When I heard Molly’s yelping and whimpering as she was thrown out the door, I nearly cried out with the injustice of it. But my heart was quickly overtaken by concern for my dog. The back door slammed shut again. I waited until I could hear the shouting start up once more before calling out to her. A few moments later, Molly came running down the path as fast as her little legs could take her and leapt for the hammock. Burrowing under my arm, her head resting below my chin, she relaxed. With my soothing strokes, she quickly fell asleep.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, until the house was quiet and the sky was bruised blue-black. I gazed up at the stars as I waited. They twinkled down at me, like a huge handful of diamonds someone had coated in glue and thrown on the ceiling. The moon was just a sliver of pearl hanging there, but the light from it was surprisingly bright. Deciding it was safe to go inside, I picked up my slumbering dog and walked silently to the side door, opening it just enough to squeeze through. I slunk off down the hall towards the stairs, but changed course when I saw Dad sitting there. Resigned to sleeping in the living room- because Mum had told me to stay away from him after their fights- I snuggled up under a blanket on the armchair furthest from the door. It was a good thing too. For the storm I’d seen coming earlier finally arrived. The wind started blowing, gradually turning into a gale, and then some. I stared out the window, watching with unfocused eyes the wind buffeting the trees just outside. The branches were almost horizontal, the strength of the wind forcing them in unnatural directions. I thought absentmindedly of all the broken branches we’d find strewn about the yard in the morning. Despite the attention I was giving the outside world, the majority of my brain was focused on one thing. My father. Although I tried not to question what I didn’t (couldn’t) understand, tonight’s performance had my senses on red alert. He had been acting stranger then normal. He’d start a conversation, and then abruptly walk away mid-sentence. I didn’t know what to make of it. I shifted in my chair, and listened to the wind forcing itself through the tiny gaps around the window frames. The house stood steadfast against the pounding of the wind, and I was glad to be protected from it.

The sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house jerked me back to earth. I blinked a few times. Despite the wind, despite my miserable thoughts, the warmth of the night had soothed me halfway to sleep. Tyres crunched on gravel as the car sped out of the driveway. I sighed. He wouldn’t come back until late tomorrow night- if that. Normally Mum would come find me, or I’d go to her, and right now I could be lying next to her, snuggled up under her doona, safe in her arms. I sighed again, this time wistfully. That wouldn’t happen tonight. So I shifted into a better position, and closed my eyes, the wind’s song a calming music that drifted to my ears.

***

Beams of early morning light poured through the window, making my sleepy eyes scrunch up even tighter. I groaned, then threw the blanket back and sat up. Rubbing my eyes, I made for the kitchen, and poured myself a bowl of cereal. As I resettled myself on the armchair, munching away, I started writing a mental list of what I wanted to do today. School didn’t go back for another week and a half. Slurping the last of the milk, I glanced out the window. The sight of the paddocks triggered a forgotten item off an old list: to walk up to the river and find the apple orchard I’d seen a couple weeks ago. I scrambled up and got dressed, quickly scrawling a note for Mum before rushing out the door. Mum said I was ‘mature for my age’ and so she treated me as though I was twelve and not nine, teaching me responsibility and giving me freedom by letting me wander all over our twenty acre property, so long as I told her I what I was up to and where I was going to be.

As I walked along, I noticed how refreshingly crisp and alive the slightly misty air felt. I loved how the dew drops created natural gemstones on the spider-webs crisscrossing the grass, how quiet and peaceful it all was. Early morning walks always made me feel like I was the only person alive.

By the time I could hear the river babbling, the mist had disappeared along with the spider-web gems. The sun was high in its blue sky, slowly touching the shadowy places desperate to retain part of the night.

I had been going upstream for about an hour when I first heard it. A faint, longing whinny. I frowned, unsure of whether I actually heard it or not. Moments later it came again. Curious, I started out in the direction I thought it was coming from. As I half-jogged, I passed the apple orchard I’d been looking for and grabbed the biggest apple I’d ever seen. When the whinny sounded again, after pocketing the apple, I picked up my pace. Every time I heard it, it led me through archways, over fences, eventually bringing me to a secluded grove in which the tiniest palomino foal stood crying. I peered around a tree at her. She hadn’t noticed me yet- but then I tripped over a root and landed in a heap with a huge crash. I sighed, picked myself back up and peered around the tree again. She bravely faced where I stood; but I could see, even from this distance, that every muscle was on red alert. Stepping away from behind the tree, I slowly approached her. She couldn’t have been very old; my suspicion was confirmed when I spied the birth sac. I paused mid-step.

Where’s your mum, sweetie? I muttered quietly.

As I glanced around the grove looking for clues, I frowned at the churned up soil. There weren’t just hoof prints, but also the distinct prints of a man’s boot. The closer I looked, I began to realise what had happened.

The mare had chosen this grove to give birth, after which, someone- her owner I assumed- had come and taken her back, but left the foal. I shuddered. I had seen the same thing happen once when Mum had taken me to the neighbouring horse stud- the screams from both mare and foal were deafening. The normally placid mare had gone wild trying to stay and protect her foal. As I stared at the ground, I tried to think logically. What had happened? I remembered hearing a horse screaming two days ago, when I’d gone for a walk around the paddocks. The screams had been in late afternoon, and had lasted for at least twenty minutes. Then they had just cut off. A thought struck me, and I searched the clearing again. Spotting what I was looking for half hidden in the dirt, I jogged over and crouched down. When I picked up the object, I grimaced. A syringe. The mare had been sedated so she would be easy to handle.

A puff of warm air against my skin startled me out of my thoughts. I froze when I realised the tiny foal had wandered over and was standing right behind me. A smile broke over my face as the teacup-sized nose shoved itself under my arm. I squeezed lightly; the foal stayed put. Running my free hand over her golden neck, I slowly turned around to face the filly and cupping her head in my hands, I gazed into her eyes. She didn’t even blink. She’d obviously overcome any fear of me, and instead decided to investigate. As I rubbed her cheeks, she closed her eyes and shifted her weight; if I weren’t holding her up, her legs would buckle underneath her. Quickly realising she was falling asleep, I wrapped my arms round her neck and tugged until her knees bent and she folded herself on the ground. Lying down with her, I watched the sun break from behind the clouds, bathing us in a warm glow that quickly sent us both to sleep.

I woke with a fuzzy muzzle breathing in my face. Where was I? My body stiffened as I tried to remember, then an apple-smelling glob fell on my face; it took everything inside me not to cry out. When I dared to open my eyes, the little foal had planted each hoof around me, like a four-poster-bed, apple juice foaming in her mouth. I grinned as I tried to remove the evidence off my face, smearing it across my cheek. Realising I’d dozed off, I glanced at my watch and sighed in relief as it was only an hour or so later. Sliding out from under the foal, I stood up to make my way home. The adorable filly just looked at me. My heart melted. I couldn’t leave her here. Glancing round, I decided to take her with me. I grabbed a handful of her short scruffy mane and together we walked into a bond that would never be broken.

As we ambled back, I tried to think what to call her. Nothing seemed right. And then suddenly I remembered when a friend of my dad’s had come back from a holiday in Bali and called me beautiful in Indonesian. ‘Indah’ was the perfect name for her- it was a lovely rounded, two-syllable name that suited her down to the ground. I couldn’t stop smiling after that. When I told her what her name was, she leaned into the hand I had resting on her neck and smiled. I never thought a horse could smile, but she did.

As soon as I entered the house, I dialed Rosina’s number. She answered on the third ring.

Hello?

Rosina! Guess what?

What?

I was too excited to wait for her to actually guess, so I told her.

I found a foal today and I’m gonna call her Indah. Isn’t that a great name? I blurted out.

Hold on a sec. You what?!

I breathed deeply, and released it in a dreamy sigh.

I found a filly.

All by herself? Where?

Near the apple orchard up past the river. I went for a walk and heard her crying. So I ran towards the sound and she was standing in the middle of a clearing. And she looked at me so adorably that I couldn’t leave her there, so I brought her home.

What orchard… oh never mind. And where was her mum? Surely she wouldn’t have just left her foal.

I don’t know where her mum is, but she didn’t leave her there deliberately. I reckon her owner took her away, and left the foal.

"Why?"

We lapsed into a brief silence, pondering the question.

Can I see her? Rosina asked.

Of course! I nearly yelled with excitement.

But are you allowed to keep her? I didn’t answer. Maria? You haven’t asked, have you?! Do they even know?

I kept my mouth shut as all the possible outcomes of telling my father ran through my head. My mother would instantly say yes; she loved horses too. But my father… I didn’t know how he would react to the news that his nine-year-old daughter had found a foal and wanted to keep it. I hoped he would agree, lay down some ground rules, then wrap me in a bear hug, a huge smile on his face; just like the day he’d given me my puppy.

Rosina’s voice cut through my thoughts.

Obviously not. Oh Maria. Ask before tomorrow will you?

Tomorrow?

Yes, because I’m coming to see her then, and I don’t want you to get attached if you can’t keep her. Ask will you?

You’re such a good friend, you know that? I promise to ask by tomorrow, ok? I paused. She’s beautiful, Rosina. You’ll love her!

I’m sure I will. See you tomorrow!

Bye! I replied, and hung up.

Chapter Two

THREE YEARS LATER

The air rushed past my flushed cheeks. My chocolate-coloured hair rose and fell with Indah’s blonde mane as we streaked across the field. I had longed for this moment for the past three years, waiting and watching as my gangly newborn filly grew up into the beautiful mare whose broad golden neck I clung to. Indah galloped to the top of the hill at full tilt, obviously enjoying herself enormously. I could feel the adrenaline surging through her, pushing her to go faster and faster still. My legs clamped around her middle, hands lost in her mane, I urged her on too. But then the race was over, and she did a few bunny hops as she sank into her haunches and halted metres from the edge. Her head turned to me as I slid off her back into the place where I had leaned against her for years. Peering around her, I took note exactly where the hundred metre high cliff started. I didn’t want to be taking an unexpected flying lesson today. My fingers laced through her mane as we stood together, gazing out over the breathtaking view the Indigo Valley offered.

We did it, Indah, I whispered to her. Her muzzle pressed against my hand in response. Every day since I discovered this valley hidden in amongst the mountains, I had led Indah to this spot, dreaming of the day when I would be able to ride her instead. The two of us had spent hours playing in the fields, standing and gazing out over the Indigo Valley, imagining where we could go. Now we’d be riding to all those places. An excited smile lifted the corners of my mouth.

Indah suddenly headed off, and I followed her. Her ears were pricked forward as she made for a tiny gap between the trees. Vaulting onto her bare back, I bent down over her neck to avoid being hit by the low branches. As she picked up her feet and started to trot, I clamped my legs tighter to keep from sliding off. Still bent down over her neck, I clung on even tighter as she broke into a canter. My heart was beating against my chest, not from fear, but from exhilaration. I trusted Indah a hundred per cent to keep me safe. I kept my eyes fixed ahead. She showed no signs of letting up, and soon the trees and their branches had encroached on our space even more- so much so I ended up hanging off the side. With my arms wrapped tight around her neck, one leg hooked over her back, the majority of my body was pressed along her left side. Not the most comfortable way to ride, I grant you. My muscles were screaming by the time I finally saw the path open up, and then she burst out of the trees onto a flat grassy plateau. Hoisting myself to the proper position, I looked around in awe. I felt like we were on top of the world. The plateau was long, but relatively narrow, and dropped off on all sides. Given the altitude, it seemed to rise above even the mountains, a platform overlooking the entire Valley. My eyes were wide in astonishment. I could see the town, all the houses and fields creating a beautiful patchwork quilt, the highway stretching out to the neighbouring towns... as far as the eye could see. It was absolutely incredible.

***

After this time walking back through, I let Indah meander down the hill, lying flat along her back, watching the clouds.

When we reached the flat of the valley again, I sat forward and urged her into a gallop home.

Bursting through the gate into our backyard, Indah skidded to a halt, flung her head high and let loose a neigh that I felt vibrate through my legs. I laughed as we received a yelp from my mum as she appeared from behind the sheets hanging on the clothes line. Mum stared at us, and then started laughing. I crossed my arms and pulled a face. As our laughter broke the still silence of the outdoors, Indah shook her head and started walking herself to her paddock, stopping outside the shed, where I slid off and brushed her down before leading her the rest of the way.

I kicked my boots off on the veranda and breathed a sigh of relief that my father’s boots weren’t there. Wandering through to the kitchen, I poured a cup of lemonade, grabbed a slice of chocolate cake and my book before running back outside to my hammock. This was my quiet corner of the garden, and I came here to think, relax or escape from the world. Plonking myself in the hammock, I planned to spend the rest of the afternoon reading my book.

Hours later, just as the light was beginning to fade, Mum yelled through the window that dinner was ready. I scrambled out of the hammock and rushed inside.

*********

Sitting on my bed, I tried to think of what it possibly could be. No matter how hard I tried, the nagging feeling wouldn’t go away. I buried my hands in the folds of my dress. I rarely, if ever, wore dresses, but today was the Day. Rosina and I had been planning this Day since all of three days ago, and last night she specifically asked me to wear ‘the deep autumn-coloured’ one that she had ‘miraculously’ managed to find in the back of my wardrobe last week. I knew she’d bought it and put it there; I hadn’t owned a single dress since I was old enough to dress myself. Yet I let her get away with it, and played along. I had to give her credit though. She at least knew how to pick a nice dress.

I sighed, and lay back. Rosina said she would pick me up, and she’d be here... I raised my wrist so I could check the time- in half an hour. We were going to go have breakfast together to kick-start our day. Then... we had planned so much I found it hard to keep track of what we were doing and when. Thankfully Rosina didn’t. Squinting up at the ceiling, I tried to remember some of what we had planned: swimming, a little shopping, surfing, sailing, sun-baking...

Once we realised that the first bit of the list all started with ‘s’, we had gone to lengths making sure everything else we did started with ‘s’. There were twelve activities we’d come up with, an hour for each one. Twelve hours of action-packed fun! And then she would stay the night, as well. I closed my eyes and lay smiling on my bed, thinking of the day ahead.

Standing up, I started to pace my room. I checked my watch again. Twenty minutes. Sigh. What to do, what to do, I muttered to myself. An idea popped into my head. Turning, I walked out the door, through the house until I found myself standing in the morning sun. Closing my eyes, I sighed again, but this time it was a sigh of bliss not of frustration. I set off towards my hammock, hoping it wasn’t in the shade. I plonked myself in it, and waited for Rosina to arrive.

***

We seated ourselves in our favourite spot in our favourite cafe, The Odd-is-See, and Jean came over to take our orders.

Morning girls! What’ll it be? The usual?

Morning, Jean! Uh, yeah, bacon and eggs sounds great. With a raspberry and cranberry juice please, I replied, smiling. He wrote it down, and pointed his pen at Rosina.

I’ll have the same, please.

I’ll make sure Sal puts a couple extra pieces of bacon on the side, why don’t I, he said with a grin.

Thanks Jean! Hey, did you hear back from... I trailed off; as I suddenly couldn’t remember the name of the friend he had sent a letter to in France.

Leo, wasn’t it? Rosina supplied.

Léon, he corrected, and no, not yet.

Oh. Well, hope you hear from him soon!

Thanks, and so do I! he replied with a chuckle, before leaving us to attend to a couple who just walked in.

Rosina pulled out a pen and a piece of paper.

What’s that for?

Well, we may as well start.

Start what? I asked, confused.

She rolled her eyes.

"Story."

Mesmerized by the pen scribbling away, it took a few moments to realise my friend was speaking.

"Eyes bored holes in the paper, as though trying to set it alight with the obsessive intensity of the glare. She glanced up at me. And by that I mean: stop staring at my hand!"

I chuckled. Breakfast arrived then, with extra bacon on the side as promised. Grinning, I bit into a piece. Our talking ceased and the silence was filled with the sounds of eating.

Just before we left, I took a loud slurp of my juice- much to Rosina’s annoyance. Grinning over the top of the cup, I took another final slurp just to irritate her more. She stood up, rolling her eyes, and walked out. Laughing, I said ‘See ya!’ to Jean, and followed her. She looked at me, and started laughing too. As we walked off down the street, a few heads turned in annoyance, but they only made us laugh more.

So, what’s actually on the list?

List?

For today.

Oh, uh, water stuff, sampling food from wherever we can, selecting movies for tonight, some shopping- I wanna go to the op shops and find you an outfit, and you can do the same for me. Styling our hair to go with the outfits...oh, but you have to stay in that dress. Sketching, skating, sewing- I can’t believe this made it on the final list; strolling, and singing on the top of a hill. Hmm. As she spoke, she counted off on her fingers, then inspected her fingernails.

Water stuff?

Swimming... sailing... surfing. You know, the usual stuff.

"S-ounds s-mashing!" I grinned when she rolled her eyes.

***

We started strolling around the streets of the city after we finished each other’s hair, laughing at our failed attempts, arms adorned with bags from our shopping escapade. Rosina pulled a face, and I doubled over from laughter. That’s when I saw a pair of sneakers that had stopped in front of me. Standing tall again, I was surprised to find a guy staring at the pair of us. Quickly, I stepped to the side, enabling him to go past. Except he didn’t. Instead, he just smiled. My brows furrowed in confusion, and I looked over at Rosina to gauge her reaction… and was surprised to find her patiently gazing back at me. Glancing between the two of them, I tried to work out what was going on, to no avail.

What? I finally asked.

Two smiles.

Ros?

Tom’s gonna join us.

He’s what?