'You don't know Rasputin,' Kelly defended. 'He can adjust. Improvise. He's a natural. There's no other horse like him.'

A bleak weariness settled in the grey eyes. 'Kelly, I can't stop you from show-jumping other owners' horses, but I can stop you from competing with mine. I don't want it to come to that. Please… reconsider. You can ride the other three if you must. But not Rasputin.'

'You don't understand,' Kelly pleaded. 'I'll never find another like him. To ride Rasputin… it's like magic…'

'Black magic!' he snapped impatiently. 'You're tempting the gods every time you mount that devil. Put an end to it before he puts an end to you. Make your mind up to that, Kelly. For your own sake!'

There was no talking to him. She could see that. And he wouldn't even give her the chance to prove him wrong. While she was still floundering for a way to reach out to him, he pulled out his wallet, extracted a twenty-dollar note, and dropped it on the table.

'Think about it!' he said harshly, and walked out.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kelly did think about what Justin St John had said.

But he was wrong!

She kept on riding the three horses each afternoon. He never missed watching her. It saddened Kelly that there was more than a fence dividing them. She wished that he could watch her with pleasure, that he could share the joy of it with her. But whatever compulsion drove him to watch through the whole practice session Kelly knew intuitively that it had more to do with his obsession about her safety than anything else.

And every morning she wished he could see her on Rasputin as they soared over the jumps at the judge's place. She and Rasputin understood each other. The big stallion knew what he could do and so did she. What Justin St John was trying to force upon her was totally unfair.

After much agonising over his ultimatum, Kelly came to the only decision that seemed right to her.

‘I thought you said you'd be away this week,' Justin remarked one morning as he was paying for his physiotherapy treatment. For the first time Kelly saw a hint of uncertainty in the probing grey eyes.

‘I have no way of taking all the horses, so I've had to cancel my entries to the minor events,' she said flatly.

'Kelly…' He heaved a sigh of exasperation.

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. 'I won't lie to you, or go behind your back, Justin. The Dapto Grand Prix is scheduled for Saturday afternoon. It's a qualifying round of the Swan Premium Pacific League of the World Cup. Rasputin is entered and I'm taking him.'

His face went grim.

Kelly's heart sank to a new low. She tried to deliver her challenge with undaunted spirit, but tears wobbled in her eyes as she spoke the fateful words. 'I know you have the power to stop us from competing. But you could at least watch Rasputin in action first, before you take him away from me.'

He shook his head, stared at her with pained eyes, then walked out, leaving her with no answer either way. Kelly didn't know what he would do. Perhaps he didn't know himself.

She did not have the heart to ride that afternoon. Or the next. The contest of wills with Justin St John had drained her natural energy and, having limited herself to Rasputin for the Dapto Show, she concentrated solely on him.

Justin St John made no comment on her decision, nor on her failure to exercise the other horses. She did not even see him on Friday. Roy Farley telephoned to cancel the appointment. No excuse was offered.

She rose early on Saturday morning, not having slept well at all. Her grandfather insisted she eat a good breakfast, then waved her off with the admonishment, 'You can show him, Kelly!'

‘If he gives me the chance,' she replied with an unhappy grimace.

'He would have told you by now if he was going to stop you,' her grandfather reasoned.

Kelly tried to be optimistic as she drove to the judge's place. When she arrived there she was greeted by more good wishes and encouragement. Judge Moffat helped her load Rasputin into his horse-float, and Arlene insisted on giving her a picnic basket for lunch.

The trip to Dapto passed without incident. The showground area set aside for the equestrians' use was heavily populated with horse-trucks and caravans. Being a latecomer, Kelly had to park where she could, which was a fair distance from the arena. Not that it mattered. She didn't really feel like being in the thick of things.

Kelly spent what was left of the morning grooming Rasputin, plaiting his mane and using a comb and plastic template to pattern the glossy coat of his rump. She was not left alone for long. Other riders on the show-jumping circuit spotted her and came over to chat. She deflected any questions about her present situation and steered the conversations towards what had happened in the events she had missed.

She did not see Justin St John.

Two hours prior to the Grand Prix, she checked at the post entry office to make sure her entry was still valid. It was. She did a nervous scan of the stands, hoping, fearing, to see Justin seated somewhere among the spectators, but there was no one who looked anything like him.

The ballot was drawn for the first-round Order of Go. Kelly and Rasputin were placed third to last to take the field. Kelly was quite pleased to be placed well down in the order. It gave her the opportunity to see how tough her competition would be on the day.

She took Rasputin off for a ride around the grounds to settle him down. The excitement of having all the other horses around always made him jumpy. He seemed to sense a big event, and wanted to show off his supremacy.

Kelly did her best to quell her own nerves too, but she could not help thinking this might be the last time she ever rode the great stallion. And, if it was to be a worthy swan-song, they had to win.

She heard the announcement of the event over the loudspeakers and returned to a vantage point from where she could watch the other riders in action. Her gaze flicked once more over the spectators in the stands, and her heart leapt into her mouth when she saw him climbing the steps to the main grandstand.

He had come! He was going to watch!

Kelly was barely conscious of what was happening in the arena. Horse followed horse. She had no idea who was doing well or how many had gone clear rounds. Her turn came.

'Rasputin…ridden by Kelly Hanrahan,' boomed over the loudspeaker.

She rode the black stallion to the starting position, her heart hammering with the need to show Justin how good Rasputin was, how good she was, how good they were together.

And up in the grandstand, Justin St John shifted forward on the wooden bench seat, too tense to remain still. He felt sick to his stomach. He kept telling himself that Kelly was as fine a rider as he had ever seen, that it couldn't happen again… that she had the right to live her life how she wanted. But she looked so small on that great black horse, small and fragile, her body all too easily smashed.

The announcer was reeling out Rasputin's recent achievements, sparking interest: 'An exciting horse… a great crowd-pleaser… very strong competitor…'

Justin's hands clenched as Kelly was given the starting signal. He could hardly bear to watch as she urged the black stallion towards the first hurdle, yet he couldn't bear not to watch. His body half lifted with them, and he only breathed again when they took the jump cleanly.

They flew over each set of rails, and took the spread fence in their stride. Rasputin pranced impatiently as Kelly set him for the combination, then soared over the double with consummate ease. He disposed of the next three fences with seemingly contemptuous arrogance, but Justin tensed again as they turned for the 'Liverpool Ditch'.