‘The kid’ll be fine on Gemma,’ said Charlie.
‘But we had the aunties on the brumbies,’ said Sam. She’d never liked sudden changes of plan. Ruby might be too flighty, and the black mare, Jet? She liked the lead way too much. She wouldn’t suit the aunties at all.
‘It’s simple,’ said Charlie. ‘Put an auntie on Tara, and you ride Phoenix instead.’ Sam considered her sister’s suggestion. Sam hadn’t ridden the golden colt out with the other horses before, but it was either that or disappoint both the girl and her parents.
Sam nodded. ‘Right, I’ll get him ready. You guys have them sign the forms, and don’t forget to offer them coffee, and ask them if they need the mounting block, and …’ But Drew and Charlie had already walked off, talking and laughing with the clients.
To say that Phoenix was keen would have been a monumental understatement. He trembled all over while Sam gave him a swift brush down. He neighed wildly while she saddled and bridled him. Then he danced down to meet the other riders. There was an audible gasp from the girl, and admiring glances all round.
‘He’s the most beautiful horse in the world,’ sighed Meg. As if he understood, Phoenix redoubled his efforts to show off. All colts were full of themselves, but this was ridiculous. He frisked about so much, that it took all Sam’s skill just to mount. It was a bit like riding a pogo stick. He pranced and capered, seemed to hang suspended in space between strides, striking heroic poses in silhouette. He arched his neck and flirted with the mares, impressing everybody except his rider. Sam wrestled with the reins, trying without much success to make him pay attention.
They all set off up the hill. The plan was for Charlie and Drew to go up front, as they knew the way better than Sam did. If Charlie got too tired, she could just go home. Sam would go last in line and keep an eye on the slower riders. At first Phoenix objected to the arrangement, tossing his head and jogging to try to overtake the leaders. But soon his herding instincts kicked in. Within a wild mob, the oldest mare travels at the front of the group and the stallion at the rear. By driving the mares ahead of him, he ensures that none stray, and they’re less likely to be stolen by other males. Phoenix enthusiastically threw himself into the role of mob stallion. He drove the group forward by running alongside the creamy mares in front of him, urging them on if they dawdled. Gemma and Golden had been raised in a wild brumby herd, and fell quickly in line with his demands. It was really very useful. The mares were a bit on the lazy side, and the bossy colt was saving their riders from having to constantly kick them on.
Golden stopped abruptly and ducked her head for a mouthful of grass. Phoenix snaked his head at her, swinging it from side to side like a threatening cobra and flattening his ears. The mare moved smartly forward.
‘However did you teach him that?’ asked Mel. Or was it Tracey? Sam had already gotten the aunties mixed up. ‘You must be a wonderful trainer. I can’t wait to tell my friend about you. She’s wanting a horse for her daughter. I’ll get her to give you a ring.’
Sam almost admitted to the woman that Phoenix had taken it upon himself to keep the group together. That Sam doubted she could stop him, even if she tried. But instead she just smiled and took the credit. ‘Brumbies are highly intelligent and highly trainable,’ she said. ‘They make excellent saddle horses.’
‘Well you’ve certainly sold us,’ said the smiling auntie, and they all took off up the hill at a gentle canter.
The ride was a terrific success. Nobody fell off, for starters. Meg had no problems handling Gemma; in fact, all the horses behaved themselves beautifully. And it wasn’t only the horses. At the lookouts, eagles wheeled overhead on cue. In the forest, wallabies bounded by. Echidnas waddled across the path, and they spotted a koala and her baby up a tree. It was neither too hot nor too cold. A light breeze helped keep the flies at bay, and Charlie didn’t get too tired.
The falls were a big hit, offering plenty of photo opportunities and a pair of obliging platypuses playing in a shady pool. Phoenix seemed determined to go for a swim, barging into the shallows, scattering diamonds of spray with his forefeet. Sam pushed him on with all her might, but Phoenix wasn’t listening. Any minute now he’d roll in the stream and make a complete fool of her. Just as his legs buckled, Drew was at her side, quietly taking the colt’s reins and urging him from the water. Then he was gone, cantering off with the panache of a movie hero and the easy grace of a man born in the saddle. And to think that dashing man was in love with her.
They left the falls precisely at eleven-thirty as scheduled and, thanks in no small part to Phoenix, arrived back at the yards on time. Sam had enjoyed herself as much as or even more than anybody else, and she couldn’t quite believe that she was about to be paid for the privilege. Meg helped Drew and Sam unsaddle the horses, while Charlie handed around coffee and biscuits.
‘Brumbies are awesome,’ the girl announced as they turned Phoenix out. ‘Can I see the others?’ Meg was looking towards the far side of the hayshed, where Jarrang and Whirlwind stood in adjoining yards. ‘Are they brumbies too?’ she asked. Sam nodded. ‘Can I have a look?’ asked Meg. ‘Please?’
Sam hesitated, but the girl’s enthusiasm was infectious. ‘Come on, then.’ She indicated for the girl to follow her. ‘Just don’t get to close to the yards. They’re still quite wild.’
Jarrang barely deigned to notice them, but Whirlwind rushed the fence with her ears back. Meg took a few startled steps backwards. ‘I told you not to get too close,’ said Sam, laying a protective hand on the girl’s arm.
‘What’s her name?’ Meg asked quietly.
‘Whirlwind,’ said Sam.
‘She doesn’t look like a brumby,’ said Meg, moving forward again. She seemed unfazed by the mare’s attack, and had an appraising eye that belied her youth. ‘She’s too big, for one thing.’ Sam nodded. Whirlwind was tall for a brumby. Undoubtedly Jarrang had sired her – they had the same presence, the same white stripes on their hoofs. But Sam knew that none of the mares in Jarrang’s captured herd could have been Whirlwind’s dam.
‘Whether she looks it or not, that mare was wild-caught just a few months ago.’ Sam pointed to Jarrang. ‘That stallion is her father.’
‘I love her mane,’ said Meg. ‘It looks like it’s been crimped. I could brush it all day.’ Sam nodded. Whirlwind really did have an incredible amount of mane. But there was something odd about it, now that she looked closely. It was no longer snarled and tangled. Instead it lay in silky waves. The mare’s tail, too, fell in a full, luxurious curtain to her dappled hocks.
‘Do you know who she looks like?’ said Meg. She didn’t wait for Sam to answer. ‘Shadowfax, Gandalf’s horse in the Lord of the Rings movies. Shadowfax was a magical creature – Gandalf’s partner, not his servant. Whirlwind looks just like Shadowfax.’
Charlie strolled over. ‘She does, doesn’t she?’
‘Don’t ask me how,’ said Sam. She was a fan of those movies. They’d showcased so many beautiful horses, and she’d read quite a bit about their equine stars. ‘Shadowfax was played by a sixteen-year-old Andalusian stallion named Domero,’ she told Meg. ‘He was trained to work at liberty, responding to off-camera cues.’
‘He was awesome,’ said Meg with a dreamy smile.
Sam nodded. ‘Yes, he was.’
‘Can I pat Whirlwind?’ asked Meg.
Sam was about to warn the girl away when her sister interrupted. ‘Sure thing, kid.’ Charlie slid through the rails and pressed her cheek against the mare’s neck. ‘Come on in.’
Meg opened the gate before a horrified Sam had the presence of mind to stop her. The child held out her hand. Whirlwind arched her neck, elegant ears angled forward and her eyes kind. Whirlwind accepted Meg’s hand on her mane with a gracious nod of her head. There was a certain import, a holiness about the interaction, which was evident to both horse and human.
‘Shadowfax could understand the speech of men,’ Meg told Charlie. The child whispered as if she were in the presence of roy
alty. ‘He was fearless and faster than any other horse in Middle Earth. Nobody could ride him except for Gandalf. He would accept neither bridle or saddle, and carried Gandalf only by his own choice.’
‘What,’ said Charlie, ‘like this?’ She grasped a handful of mane and casually swung herself onto Whirlwind’s broad back. The horse twisted her neck and snuffled Charlie’s leg.
‘Come out now, Meg,’ said Sam in a low voice. Her heart was thudding hard. With one last pat, Meg slipped back through the gate. Sam resisted the impulse to seize the girl and hug her tight to her chest. Should she be furious with Charlie or in awe of her dazzling horsemanship? Sam understood now. Charlie was in a league of her own. Still, if her sister ever got out of that yard alive, Sam might kill her herself.
Meg sparkled with a kind of intense joy, chattering on about how much she’d loved the day. Her prattle blurred into white noise. ‘Get off now, Charlie,’ said Sam, trying to keep her voice calm. ‘I think she’s had enough.’
‘No, wait,’ Meg was saying. ‘Wait!’ The girl was pulling at Sam’s sleeve now. ‘My uncle’s here. I want to show him how Charlie can ride Whirlwind without any saddle or bridle.’
Sam looked towards the yards and her skin crawled with fear. Spike Morgan was lounging on a rail. And this girl beside her with the shining eyes? This must be Spike’s niece. What a fool she was, not to have made the connection. He’d recognise the stolen mare in a second. Bushy had altered the brand but the new scar was still fresh, the deceit still apparent. And they’d let a twelve-year-old child go into a yard with the horse that had killed Rowdy Clarke, Spike’s best friend, not two months ago. It would be the end of the road for their business. There’d be charges of negligence and of theft … And it would be the end of the road, too, for Whirlwind. Sam fought for breath.
‘Uncle Spike,’ yelled Meg, and ran off towards him.
Charlie started at the sound of Spike’s name and gave Sam a shocked glance. Her apprehension was shared by Whirlwind. The mare reared. Charlie leaned low over her neck and clung to her mane, became part of the beautiful mare. ‘Open the gate,’ she said urgently. Sam shook her head and began to protest, but her voice came out in strangled gasps. ‘Just do it!’ hissed Charlie. Sam said a prayer, opened the gate and closed her eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Whirlwind cantered calmly up the hill, with Charlie securely aboard. Sam’s breath still came in shallow spurts but with every second that passed, her hands unclenched a little. Unbelievably, it looked like Charlie was going to be all right.
The mare had stunning movement. Extended and elevated, cadenced and harmonious. Sam imagined for one moment how Whirlwind’s gait would wow judges in the dressage arena. Whirlwind and Charlie gained the brow of the hill, just as Meg arrived with Uncle Spike in tow.
‘Afternoon, Princess,’ he said, with a cocky raise of his eyebrow. Meg looked on curiously.
Ever since the fateful buckjump competition, Sam had gone to extraordinary lengths to avoid Spike. He’d not pursued her. Perhaps because he’d lost the bet, the deal that they’d go on a date if Spike was crowned King of the Mountains. He wasn’t, Drew was, so maybe that was that?
Of course, this was a ridiculously simplistic take on things. Spike would have to be a very concrete thinker indeed to believe a relationship could be governed by the same sort of rules as a poker game, and she could be picked up like the kitty. But for whatever reason, until now, he had stayed away.
Meg pointed up the hill, to where Whirlwind’s grey rump was disappearing into the trees. ‘Did you see her?’ she asked her uncle.
‘Nah,’ said Spike. Meg’s face fell. ‘Cheer up,’ he said. ‘There are other brumbies, aren’t there, eh?’ He tickled her and made her laugh. ‘You show me them instead.’
Sam sized him up, and saw no sign that he’d recognised the mare. Charlie’s courage and presence of mind had undoubtedly saved Whirlwind’s life.
Meg grabbed Spike’s arm and pulled him away to look at the new foal. Sam waited until they’d moved off, then ran over to where Drew was saddling Clancy. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘I’ll find her,’ he whispered, and took off up the mountain. Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe. There was still a lot to do – collect the money, for a start. Hand out coffee and Tim Tams, collect some feedback.
‘You’ve quite a fan in my daughter,’ said Sue, as they watched Meg drag Spike over to see Phoenix. Sam smiled at the compliment and invited her into the office. Sue took out her credit card and slipped it into the reader. It whirred and clicked, and a few seconds later Sam was handing over a receipt for the very first payment to Brumby Trails. It wasn’t a lot of money – petty cash from her father’s perspective. But for some reason, it felt like she’d made a million dollars. It must be true what they said about appreciating things more if you worked for them.
Sam was suddenly ashamed to think of how often she’d taken money for granted. Not this time, though. This time she’d earned it. Holding that humble credit-card docket felt as good as acing her final exams, or being selected in the A-team for the state dressage squad. No, it wasn’t like that at all. It was ten times better.
The whistling kettle brought her back to earth. ‘Coffee?’ Sam asked.
Sue nodded and took a Tim Tam. ‘You really have got the perfect set-up here,’ she said. ‘Now, what brumbies are for sale? Meg has her heart set on one. I want a mare, freshly broken if possible. She’s very keen to train a horse from scratch.’ For a moment Sam didn’t follow. She started to speak, but Sue was already off again. ‘And that stunning palomino colt,’ said Sue. ‘How much is his stud fee? I’m retiring my mare, and I’d like to put her in foal to him.’
Sam didn’t know what to say. Sue misinterpreted her silence. ‘Don’t say he’s already fully booked for next season?’ She sounded so disappointed. ‘I like your buckskin stallion. He’s beautiful too. But I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with the palomino.’
Think quickly now. Her first instinct was to say no, to explain that there were no horses for sale, no stallions at stud. But this woman was handing them a potential new income stream on a plate. Bushy had half a dozen young brumbies, green broke, but going well under saddle. And Phoenix as a stud? Sam’s head told her that Phoenix wouldn’t even be here in spring, but her heart refused to believe it.
‘I do have some young stock,’ Sam said cautiously. ‘But wouldn’t Meg be better off with an older, fully schooled horse? It’s not a great idea for two youngsters to be learning on their own.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ said Sue, nodding. ‘That’s why I want Meg to have lessons. We’ll leave her new horse here on agistment, and I’ll drive her three times a week after school.’ Sue dipped the biscuit in her coffee. ‘Oh, and on weekends. What do you charge for a full day? Do you have some sort of school-holiday program? Meg might like to bring her friends along.’
‘We can do that,’ said Sam, trying to sound bright and confident. Trying not to show how overwhelmed she really was. She needed to talk to Charlie. But Charlie was off in the bush somewhere, riding an unbroken man-killer without a saddle or bridle. So much for the promises she’d made to Mary about not letting Charlie overdo it, about keeping her safe.
‘Good,’ said Sue. ‘Now, I won’t have a look at your sale horses right now, if you don’t mind.’ Thank God for that. There weren’t any sale horses. ‘I’ll come on my own later. We’re wanting to surprise Meg.’ Sue took a card from her purse. ‘Here’s my contact details. Why don’t you just email me with the price particulars?’ She scribbled on the back and handed over the card.
Sam looked at the list written there. Stud fees. Lesson fees. Agistment fees. This was too good to be true. ‘Meg is interested in that high-school riding. You don’t happen to know of a local coach, do you? It’s all barrel racing and campdrafting around here.’
‘I’m a level-one NCAS dressage coach,’ said Sam, ‘if that’s any help.’
‘That sounds marvel
lous,’ said Sue, looking impressed. ‘What does it mean, exactly?’
‘It’s a certification through the Equestrian Australia national coaching scheme. It means I’m qualified to teach beginners through to elementary level. I used to coach the juniors of the state dressage squad.’
‘Good heavens, you are a find!’ Sue was absolutely beaming. ‘There’s a group of girls at the Tallangala Pony Club who are dead keen on dressage. Just wait til I tell them I’ve found a coach.’
Craig and the aunties came in for cups of coffee, laughing and joking and saying how much they’d enjoyed their ride. Sam took a second look at Craig. Although he was older and heavier, the resemblance to his brother Spike was obvious now. If only she’d noticed it earlier. Sue kept up a steady stream of chatter, aimed mainly at her husband, talking up the idea of buying Meg a brumby. Sam imagined Sue normally got her own way.
‘We’ll be in touch,’ said Sue as they rose to leave. ‘Don’t forget that email.’ Sam waved Sue’s card gaily about, to show she’d remember. Sue glanced around and dropped her voice to a stage whisper. ‘I’d like photos of your available horses, maybe a little bit about them – and the price, of course. I presume they’re all registered in the brumby stud book, or whatever it is you call it?’
As far as Sam knew, all of Bushy’s horses were eligible for listing with the Brumby Association. She could hurry it through if she had to. Sam nodded at Sue.
‘Perfect.’ Sue took one last biscuit. ‘We’d best get going.’
They all crowded out the door. Meg was describing the finer points of natural-horsemanship training to her uncle. Spike lit up a smoke and slouched against the rails. Buckjumping was as far from natural horsemanship as you could imagine. But then there’d been his impressive performance in the Bareback Challenge, cantering perfect circles without saddle or bridle, revving that silly chainsaw. He knew a thing or two about communicating with his mount. Sam took a good look at Spike. Objectively, he was gorgeous, but she was immune to his charms. Drew had it all over him. Spike sauntered across and winked at her. ‘You’ve done a top job, Princess. Those horses look a million dollars.’
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