A Heart This Big Read online

  Table Of Contents

  Other Books by Cheyenne Blue

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  About Cheyenne Blue

  Other Books from Ylva Publishing

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  www.ylva-publishing.com

  Other Books by

  Cheyenne Blue

  Code of Conduct

  Party Wall

  Girl Meets Girl Series

  Never-Tied Nora

  Not-So-Straight Sue

  Fenced-In Felix

  Girl Meets Girl Collection (box set)

  Acknowledgements

  Here we go again, another book out in the world. A Heart This Big is my seventh novel or novella to fly free. Take it from me—it doesn’t get any easier.

  Once again, I send huge thanks to the team at Ylva Publishing: Astrid, of course, my wonderful editor Sandra Gerth, copyeditor Miranda Miller, Glendon at Streetlight Graphics, and all those working behind the scenes. I consider myself very lucky to work with a team who gives my work so much care and attention.

  For this book, I again called upon my fellow author and friend Katharina Marcus, who this time not only cast an eye over the horse parts but also brought her experience with the Riding for the Disabled program. Along the way, she also taught me a thing or two about twelve-year-old girls. After all, it’s been decades since I was one. My great mate Marg also weighed in on the kids and went on her usual thorough scavenger hunt for typos. Thanks to Ameliah Faith for the beta read and enthusiastic cheerleading and to Sophie Lennox for the sensitivity read on the character Edwina. Finally, a shout-out to the lawyers I work with in my day job, who cheerfully answered my seemingly random questions—although they still have no idea why I was asking!

  Cheyenne Blue, Queensland, Australia

  Chapter 1

  Nina set down the wheelbarrow, rotated her tight shoulders, and indulged in a moment of pleasure watching her daughter.

  Phoebe walked alongside Mr Petey, holding the grey pony’s lead rein close to the bit as she’d been taught. Mr Petey plodded docilely around the paddock, ears flicking back and forth as he listened to Phoebe’s voice. Mr Petey’s rider, Billy, clutched the saddle with both hands. His red T-shirt was a little too small and showed a strip of chunky tummy between it and his pants.

  “Try and sit a little straighter, Billy.” Phoebe’s clear voice floated back to Nina. “Mr Petey will be more comfortable if you do.”

  Billy jerked to attention like a soldier, making Nina smile.

  “Phoebe’s good with the little kids. You wouldn’t think she’s only twelve herself.” Stella stood next to Nina. Straw stuck out of her wispy hair, but her hands were as clean as ever, her nails manicured.

  “Yes, she is.” Nina allowed herself a moment of pride before turning back to the wheelbarrow.

  Stella, however, continued to watch her son, her work apparently forgotten.

  Nina sighed. If only Stella would show the same commitment Phoebe did. “Can you take that wheelbarrow to the muckheap and empty it, Stel?”

  Stella wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know.” Her gaze went back to Billy, who was now urging Phoebe to let him trot.

  “Remember, I showed you how last time.” Nina managed a reassuring smile for Stella before she turned and marched off to the barn. Exactly how had Stella thought she could help at Banksia Farm when they struck the deal? She was scared of the animals and attempted any physical chore in a very half-hearted manner. Nina sighed. Billy and his obvious love for the animals had won her over, and Stella was part of the package.

  Stella trailed behind her. “What do you want me to do?”

  Nina shot a glance at the still unemptied wheelbarrow and quashed her short reply. If Banksia Farm was to gain anything from Stella’s “assistance”, Nina had to come up with something Stella was able to do. The dollars she could have received if a paying child had Billy’s place in the Barn Kids program flashed through her mind, but she pushed the thought aside. No, she would always make room for the Billys of this world, even if their parents couldn’t pay or were useless around the farm. She grabbed the ponies’ hay nets and stuffed them with more force than necessary.

  Stella stood in the doorway, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

  “I’ve been thinking.” Nina summoned a smile. “How about I show you what’s involved in manning the farm shop? It’s a pleasant task. You just have to sell the farm produce to visitors.”

  “Would I be by myself?”

  “Not at first. I’ll show you what you need to do, but once you’re confident, I’ll leave you to it.”

  “I don’t think I’d be very good at that. I’m not that good at talking to people.”

  “Why don’t you give it a go at least?” Even in her own ears, Nina’s voice sounded artificially encouraging. “Most of the volunteers love working there.”

  “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.” Stella came further into the barn.

  Nina saw the flash of apprehension in Stella’s blue eyes and quashed a snappy reply. It was hard for Stella as a single parent. She always seemed so diffident, so lacking in confidence. That was another reason Nina had agreed to take Billy into Barn Kids—maybe being around Banksia Farm would benefit Stella too.

  “No worries, then. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” She was running out of options for Stella, though. She handed her the hay nets. “Can you hang these in Mr Petey’s and Jellybean’s stalls? Remember the knot I showed you? Use that.”

  “I think so.” Stella took the hay nets and wandered off.

  Nina heaved a sigh of relief. Hopefully, Stella would hang the nets correctly. She would have to check later. She strode back to the ignored wheelbarrow and pushed it to the muckheap. With economical movements, she forked the soiled straw and manure onto the top of the heap.

  Luckily, it was a quiet day at Banksia Farm. Most of the regular Barn Kids were at school, but Phoebe and Billy’s school had a kid-free day.

  There was no sign of Stella. Nina walked down the barn until she caught sight of Stella’s bright cotton frock in Jelly’s box. Stella was wiping something from her sandal—the unsuitable open-toed sandals Nina had told her not to wear—and the hay net sat lopsidedly on the floor. Without a word, Nina went in and hung it up.

  “I’ve trodden in something that smells bad.” Stella balanced on one leg as she inspected the bottom of the other sandal. “Where can I wipe it?”

  “On the straw.” Nina’s voice was as pleasant and even as she could make it. Really.

  Stella overbalanced, and her foot went down in the straw. “Oh no. I trod in something again.”

  Nina clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached.

  The door of the barn cra
shed open. “Mum, where are you?” Footsteps thudded on the concrete. “Mum?” Phoebe’s voice cracked with panic.

  “I’m here, Phoe. Where’s the fire?” Nina’s pulse raced with a mother’s concern, and she stepped out of Jelly’s stall.

  Phoe skidded to a stop. Her eyes were wide, and her complexion was unnaturally sallow.

  “What’s happened?” Nina’s gaze darted over her daughter from head to toe. Blood. Was there blood? Nothing obvious. But what then? She gripped Phoebe’s shoulders, willing some words out of her.

  “Billy fell off. I think he’s hurt his arm, and he’s talking funny.”

  Oh shit. Nina shot a glance at Stella, and she struggled to keep her voice calm. “You did good fetching me, Phoe. Where’s Billy now?”

  “Sitting on the ground in the paddock. He says he wants rissoles for dinner and Superman is riding Mr Petey to the airport.” Phoebe’s voice was husky as if with unshed tears.

  Worry jumped in Nina’s stomach. “Let’s go see.”

  Stella and Phoebe had to jog to keep up with Nina’s swift steps.

  “Billy often talks nonsense,” Stella said. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  Nina shot her a glance. Stella was no helicopter parent, but her airy unconcern seemed a little callous.

  Nina’s glance swept around the paddock. Mr Petey grazed on the far side by the road. His reins trailed on the ground.

  Her gaze snapped to Billy. He sat hunched over, and one hand held the other arm. What seven-year-old ever stayed still like that unless he had to? Unless he’s badly hurt. Nina swallowed hard against the panic that bubbled in her throat. “Phoe, catch Mr Petey and put him in the barn. Then fetch one of the pony rugs and come back as fast as you can.”

  Phoe nodded and went off at a run.

  Nina hurried over to Billy and crouched. “Hey, mate. What’s the matter?”

  Billy gazed up at her, his eyes unfocussed. “I fell out of the sky. My arm hurts.”

  “Can I have a look?” Nina forced a smile.

  Billy shook his head. “Nah.”

  Stella crouched too and gently brushed Billy’s hair from his forehead underneath the riding helmet. “Can Mummy look?”

  Billy nodded and bit his lip.

  When Stella lifted Billy’s hand from his bad arm, it was bent in a way that no normal arm should be.

  “Oh,” Stella said, her voice small. She jerked back.

  Nina glanced at her. Stella was milky white and washed-out. She didn’t want two casualties on her hands. She fought down a wave of queasiness. Focus. Was the broken arm Billy’s only injury? What should she check? Another deep breath steadied her, and her first-aid training jumped back into her head. “Billy, do you know where you are?”

  “I’m at the farm. Mr Petey and I were flying really high. Then a cloud fell on us, and Superman said Mr Petey had to take him home. Superman pushed me off.” He pointed upward. “Why is the sky green?”

  Nina met Stella’s eyes over Billy’s head. He was an unusual kid with a vivid imagination, but this was weird talk, even from him. Sweet baby Jesus, please not a head injury.

  Nina peered into Billy’s eyes. What was she looking for? Think. His pupils—that was it. She glanced from one to the other. They looked to be the same size, but it was hard to be sure. “Did you hit your head?”

  “My head hurts.” Billy whimpered and leant back into Stella’s arms.

  That was enough. A broken arm was one thing, but a head injury could be serious, particularly in a child. Nina stood, fished her phone from her pocket, and glanced at Stella, who had regained her colour but still looked fragile and unsure. “Stel, we need to call for an ambulance. I’m going to step over here to make the call, okay?”

  Stella stared at her for a moment, then her hunched position unfurled. “I’ll stay with my kid.”

  Nina nodded and smiled at Billy. “I’ll be back in a moment, Billy-the-Kid. Phoe’s gone to get you one of Mr Petey’s rugs to keep you warm.”

  She stepped a couple of paces away and faced Billy while she lifted the phone to her ear. Stella sat on the ground, cradling him to her chest and singing softly.

  The Triple Zero operator was calm and efficient and, after the initial questions, said an ambulance was on its way.

  “Ask him some basic questions,” the operator said. “Keep him talking.”

  Nina returned to Billy’s side and crouched. “So, my little mate. What’s your name?”

  Billy looked up at her. Tears sparkled in his eyes and tracked moisture down his dusty cheeks. “William Robert Placido Moran and I live at 52 Lorikeet Close, Linville, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, the world, the universe.”

  “Spot-on.” Nina smiled at him. “How old are you?”

  “I’m seven years, one month, and eleven days. My mummy’s thirty-four years, five months, and fifteen days. Where’s Mr Petey?”

  “Did you hear that?” Nina said into the phone. “Billy doesn’t normally slur like that.” To Billy, she said, “Mr Petey’s gone home for his dinner.”

  Phoebe returned at a jog, a horse rug in her arms.

  Nina draped it around Billy, careful to avoid the broken arm.

  “Is there any blood or clear fluid in his ears?” the operator asked.

  Nina shifted to look carefully. “Not that I can see. Should I remove his helmet?”

  “No, leave it. The ETA for the ambulance is four minutes. Keep talking to him and watch in case he falls unconscious.”

  “How are you, Stella?”

  “Okay.” Stella tightened her arms around Billy’s chest. “I’ll be better when Billy is.”

  Billy whimpered. “Stop squeezing me, Mummy. It hurts.”

  Stella loosened her grip. “Sorry, sweetie. Mummy’s just looking after you.”

  A mother protected her young. Nina swallowed down the worry. Hopefully, Billy only had a broken arm and a minor concussion and nothing worse. But what did she know?

  Nina peered into Billy’s eyes again, searching for any change.

  He stared back at her, his blond hair flattened on his forehead under the helmet. His blue eyes were wide and apprehensive.

  “The ambulance should be with you in three minutes,” the operator said. “Is there someone who can stand on the road and flag it down?”

  Of course. She should have thought of that. “Phoe, run to the end of the drive and wave at the ambos when you see them. Leave the gates open on your way so they can drive straight through.”

  Phoe nodded, then took off at a run, her skinny limbs flying over the rough ground.

  “You want to ride in a big, white ambulance, Billy?” Stella said into his ear.

  “Will the lights flash? Will it make the whoo-whoo noise?”

  “I’m sure it will, just for you.”

  “Good.” Billy’s voice slurred.

  Sirens sounded in the distance. “Hear that, Billy?” Stella said. “They turned them on for you.”

  Billy gave a weak grin. His eyelids fluttered.

  The sirens stopped. A minute later, the ambulance bounced its way across the rough grass. Phoebe ran behind and came to stand next to Nina.

  Nina glanced at her. This was scary enough for her. How was Phoebe managing?

  Her daughter’s lower lip trembled, and tears sparkled on her lashes.

  Nina squeezed her hand. “Billy will be okay.” Please let that be true.

  Two paramedics exited the ambulance. One crouched next to Billy. “Hey, big fella. What happened to you?”

  “I fell off Mr Petey. I think his wings stopped working.”

  “Well, that’s not good. My name’s Brett. What’s yours?”

  “William Robert Placido Moran. I feel sick.” Billy wiggled out of Stella’s arms and emptied his breakfast over Brett’s shiny boots.

  Br
ett didn’t budge. “Let’s take a look at you, William Moran.”

  His colleague opened the back of the ambulance and wheeled out the trolley. “We’ll take him to the university hospital,” she said to Stella. “Will you ride along?”

  Stella struggled to her feet, brushing grass seeds from her dress. “Yes. Of course.”

  Nina stood to one side as the female paramedic asked questions of Stella. Concern for Billy welled up once more, and her guts twisted. What if it had been Phoe who sat pale and sick, clutching a broken arm and spouting nonsense? She’d have been beside herself with anxiety. Stella, for all her vagueness, was handling this well, maybe better than Nina would have if it were her kid.

  In no time, Billy was loaded, and Stella climbed in the back alongside him.

  “I’ll call you later,” Nina called. “See how he’s doing.”

  Stella nodded.

  The ambulance crawled down the paddock to the gate and out onto the road.

  Nina blew out a deep breath. Billy was now in the best hands. She forced a smile. “Why don’t you and I have a long drink of lemonade after all that? We can call Stella later to see how Billy is.”

  A tear slipped down Phoebe’s cheek. “Will he be okay? Will he?”

  Nina wrapped one arm around her. “I’m sure he will be, sweetie. Broken bones heal quickly when you’re little like Billy.”

  Phoebe’s shoulders hunched, and she pushed away from Nina’s side. “Was it my fault?”

  “No. Definitely not. It was an accident. That’s all. It wasn’t Mr Petey’s fault either.”

  “I’ll go and pour the lemonade.” Phoebe turned away and walked towards the house.

  Nina took a pace after her, and her glance fell on the still open gate. She jogged across to close it.

  A car door slammed nearby.

  When Nina turned, she tightened her lips, and a spark of anger ignited in her belly. Just what she needed.

  Jon Wakefield’s dapper grey suit was as immaculately pressed as if he’d just picked it up from the drycleaners. Which he probably had. He approached her, detouring around the rutted dirt. His gaze followed the ambulance speeding along the road. The sirens came on in a blaze of sound, probably at Billy’s request.