‘That’s very kind of you,’ I say, feeling the morning’s lightness flit up yet another notch.

‘I got you another present,’ I tell her, holding up a carrier bag, then laugh as she makes an unashamed grab for it. Beavis, who took slightly longer than Tui to make his cautious way down from the top tier of hay bales, wags his tail at the sound of crinkling plastic.

‘No, Bea, it’s not for you,’ sings Tui, holding the bag high up out of reach. Beavis puts his little brown head on one side, and wags his tail through the dust.

‘Go on, open it,’ I urge, and Tui promptly closes her eyes tight shut and reaches in a hand.

‘Oh!’ she exclaims, pulling out the box. ‘Gloves!’

I hadn’t been able to resist when I spotted them in an equestrian store back in Queenstown.

‘They’ll help you to hold the reins better,’ I say, as Tui shakes her head.

‘Great.’

‘Are you sure you like them?’

‘Uh-huh.’ Tui extracts each maroon riding mitt and gazes at them in awe. ‘I love them, Genie. Thank you, oh, thank you, darling.’

Wrapping an arm around my neck, she pulls me towards her and plants a great big wet kiss on my cheek.

‘Steady on!’ I laugh, extracting myself. ‘Now, shall we ask Kit if I can give you a lesson on Keith? We can put him on the lunge rein if you like?’

‘Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!’ cries Tui, jumping up and down with such exuberance that Beavis scuttles sideways to avoid being squashed. Then, grabbing my hand, she pulls both of us out of the barn.

After a bumpy start, Tui settles into her sitting trot and even feels confident enough to try one loop at a canter. Whooping with delight as Keith swooshes his chestnut tail and lengthens his stride, Tui lets go of her reins to wave at Kit, who has come to check on our progress.

It feels miraculous to watch her up there enjoying herself, so much more confident than she was even a week ago. Far beyond the boundaries of the outdoor school stand the jagged silhouettes of the mountains, each one surrounded by an ocean of blue sky. A gentle breeze carries the whisper of birdsong, insects hum their busy tunes in the trees, and I drink it all in – the sounds, the sights and the sense of peace that has been building inside me all day, in this country of such beauty, and space, and quiet.

Looking again towards where Kit is standing, his thick tattooed forearms resting on the fence, I note that he is also captivated by the sight of Tui. The two of them have an uncomplicated closeness that would be easy for me to envy, the kind of connection that can only be built over time, on a foundation of trust and familiarity. Tui is lucky to have him – they are fortunate to have each other.