Jumping Fences

by Karen Wood

  ‘Just a friend.’ He set both down on the mudguard of a nearby horse float. ‘I miss you like crazy, Zoe. I never stop thinking about you.’

  How the hell did she answer that?

  While she stood there, befuddled, he took a step towards her, reached out and took a lock of her hair in his fingers.

  She jerked away from him.

  Scotty gave her a hurt look.

  ‘Thought you were with Caitlin.’

  His mouth went tight. ‘She totally stalked me,’ he said. ‘You should be angrier at her than at me.’

  ‘You were my boyfriend,’ she said. ‘You should have said no.’

  ‘She’s such a messed-up person,’ he said. ‘I felt . . . sorry for her.’

  There he went again, blaming everything on everyone else. It was just like him to try and shift the blame on to Caitlin.

  ‘I feel sorry for both of you,’ she said and turned to walk away again.

  ‘Yeah, well maybe I know more about Caitlin than you do,’ he called after her. ‘Stop, Zoe. I’m not finished.’

  Despite herself, she turned back to hear what he had to say. After four years, Zoe still felt she barely knew Caitlin. With her, everything was kept surface-level. She never spoke of her family or invited people over. And Scotty – did he really miss Zoe? Had he been as miserable these past few weeks as she had been? did she have him all wrong? For a fleeting moment, she was tempted to just fall back into his world again. He was so good-looking and his smile was cute.

  ‘I thought you were with Josh Miller,’ he said. ‘I heard that you got with him.’

  Zoe didn’t answer. Because strictly speaking, she wasn’t with Josh.

  ‘What do you see in him? He’s a nerd.’

  Sheese. Who was he to be all hurt and wounded? And who was he to criticise Josh?

  ‘I thought he was you, if you must know,’ she said. ‘I was stupid enough to think that you cared enough to come back and get me when I had my accident, to come and help me, but you took off with Caitlin and just left me there.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were hurt,’ said Scotty, his tone now more defensive than accusing. ‘Honestly, Zoe, I wouldn’t do that. I thought you’d just ridden off in a huff, I didn’t know.’

  In a huff?

  ‘You didn’t care, you mean.’

  ‘That’s not true. Come on, Zo-Zo. I’m not that coldhearted. It’s just that, after what happened . . . you know . . .’. He shrugged. ‘I thought you would have wanted us to leave.’ His voice softened. ‘I care now.’

  In some sick way, his words were comforting, familiar and she could so easily have just melted into them, especially after such a horrible week. But instead, she pushed him away. ‘You’re pathetic, Scotty.’ And as she did, she saw a tall guy, holding a brindle whippet on the other side of the grounds, watching her.

  She turned back to Scott. ‘And for the record, he’s not a nerd, he’s a geek. There’s a very big difference.’

  14

  Zoe ran across the showgrounds, hoping Josh wouldn’t walk away; that he hadn’t thought she’d made up with Scotty.

  He wore a dark blue polo shirt, jeans and steel-capped workboots rather than the fashionable Roper riding boots. His hair was soft and scruffy with no hat. He was different from every other boy here; still farmy, but not in a stockman’s kind of way, more in a tradie kind of way. She found that a likeable quality. Scotty was so in love with his stockman’s hat, she’d sometimes wondered if he valued it more than her.

  ‘I didn’t . . .’ she stammered, pointing back to where she had been talking to Scotty. ‘I don’t . . . I mean, we’re over.’ Awkward smile. I’m a fruitcake.

  ‘Yeah, I could tell.’ His smile confirmed the fruitcake theory.

  Zoe was relieved. Of course he could tell. He wasn’t all jealous and twisted like Scotty.

  She pointed to the brindle pup at his feet. ‘Where’s Wispy?’

  ‘Looking after her pups. I only brought Spiderman today.’

  ‘Oh.’ She clicked her fingers. ‘What a shame.’ She grinned. ‘Frankie might have a chance at the high-jump, then. How’s the prize money round these parts?’

  ‘Thousand bucks for the winner.’ He patted his leg and Spiderman put both paws up. ‘You entered?’

  ‘Four times.’ Two for her and two for Dad. He had phoned through the entries on the way there. She was still baffled by his sudden interest in the sport. Race and Toby didn’t have a hope of beating the kelpies and collies; too much heavy-set blue heeler in them. And Bert was old. He’d be lucky to get through the first round.

  ‘Competition,’ Josh remarked.

  Frankie sniffed at the wiry pup and it lifted a lip and snarled at him. Frankie’s hackles rose in reply.

  ‘They’re shaping up already,’ she joked.

  He laughed. ‘I brought Blackjack too,’ he said, and nodded to a black horse tethered under a tree. His chestnut was tied next to him. Her heart plummeted. It had been hard to see Scotty in this setting, but even harder to see her horse. She forced herself to smile and be gracious. At least he wasn’t dead, she told herself.

  She walked over to Blackjack, ran a hand up his forehead. Then she burst out, ‘That’s my good bridle!’ She looked along Jacky’s back. She couldn’t believe it. ‘Dad sold my saddle too?’

  ‘He lent it to me,’ said Josh. ‘Just for the weekend.’

  ‘Why?’

  He shrugged. ‘You can ride bareback if you want.’

  She stared at him, confused. ‘What did you and Dad talk about last night?’

  ‘Your horse.’

  ‘My horse?’

  He untied the rope Jacky was tethered with and handed it to her. ‘Your horse.’

  Blackjack nickered softly and put his nose into her tummy. Josh stood there looking goofy, one arm leaning lazily against the tree, limbs so long he seemed unsure of what to do with them. ‘And a few other things.’

  Zoe fought an incredible urge to just grab him by the front of his shirt and crush her lips against his.

  As though reading her mind, Josh stepped towards her. She craned her neck, mesmerised by how kissable he looked right now. He stepped even closer, until his chest nearly touched hers and reached a hand over her shoulder. Zoe nearly stopped breathing. She swallowed.

  ‘Your helmet,’ he said, taking it from where it hung on her saddle. ‘Come for a ride. I want to show you something.’

  ‘Sure,’ she said, taking the helmet and giving it a glum look. So not sexy.

  Josh’s lips tightened into another tiny smile.

  ‘Will you stop smirking?’

  He swallowed his smile and looked at her wide-eyed. ‘Who’s smirking?’

  Josh gently shouldered her away from Blackjack’s saddle and tightened her girth, a hole past where Zoe usually put it.

  ‘Don’t asphyxiate him,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t get hurt again,’ he answered, slapping the fender down and adjusting her stirrup.

  Zoe swapped her pink hat for the helmet. ‘Why? Are we rough-riding?’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said with a wolfish grin.

  Zoe clamped the pink hat over the top of her helmet.

  ‘Nice look,’ said Josh.

  ‘Thank you.’

  He swung into his saddle and waited while she did the same. Then he turned the chestnut about and rode towards the main arena, with Spiderman and Frankie following.

  ‘Number three!’ a gate steward called. He waved when he saw Josh.

  ‘Zoe, this is Pete,’ said Josh.

  ‘Hi.’

  Pete was shrunken and wrinkly like a piece of fruit that had been left in the sun. Zoe felt uneasy about the way his watery old eyes ran over Blackjack. This was the guy who’d been going to shoot her horse and chop it up for dog meat.

  ‘Knew that horse would polish up well,’ he said, turning to Josh. ‘Didn’t I tell you he was a good one? How’s he going for you?’

  ‘Real good,’ said Josh.

  The ol
d prune turned back to Zoe. ‘I always try and re-home the ones that have a chance,’ he said.

  ‘That’s good,’ said Zoe, meaning it sincerely. Thank heavens for that, is what she should have said.

  Pete opened the gate for another rider, and then closed it again. ‘You know where to go?’ he asked Josh.

  ‘I think so,’ Josh answered.

  ‘There’s a laneway about three Ks up the road. You go down that and there’s a gate on the right. Ride through to some trees and you’ll see steel yards hidden in there.’

  ‘Will there be anyone around?’

  ‘Shouldn’t be.’

  Zoe looked along a laneway that ran through the centre of several stock yards. There were wild horses in some and cattle in others. Goats, sheep and miniature ponies. Fred’s broad-rimmed hat bobbed over billows of dust and a symphony of complaining animals. Not far away she saw her dad wearing Mike’s old terry-towelling hat. Somehow her friends and family seemed to have taken over this event.

  Josh turned his horse away. Zoe clucked Jacky up and followed.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, as he continued out the side gates of the showgrounds and onto the road.

  ‘I told you. I want to show you something.’

  ‘Errr, what exactly?’ she said, trotting Jacky up next to him. ‘And um, where?’

  Josh didn’t answer for a while. Her leg brushed against his as their horses fell into matching strides alongside each other, hooves making a steady rhythm on the road.

  Josh turned up a side street. There were small houses either side, with neat little gardens. A dozen or so houses later the tiny suburb ended and they rode through heel-high grass between the stock fences and a gravel road, heading out of town. Frankie and Spiderman trotted behind.

  ‘Are you going to tell me where we’re going?’ Romantic picnic? Smooching under a tree, perhaps? She glanced behind his saddle, checking for saddlebags that might contain romantic supplies like yummy sandwiches, cold drinks and tartan wool blankets. There were none.

  ‘Pete picked up some cattle from a local property last week,’ said Josh. ‘He reckons their brands had been altered. Their ear tags were missing.’

  ‘What sort of cattle?’

  ‘The ones he took were Hereford crosses.’

  That wouldn’t be her father’s. He bred Black Angus. What was Josh getting at?

  ‘The paperwork was made out to Ranges Pastoral Company.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I looked them up. Scotty’s dad is a partner.’

  Zoe went cold. Dodgy brands meant stolen cattle. Surely not. Surely she hadn’t brought this on her father with her appalling choice of boyfriends. She swallowed, feeling nauseous.

  Dad, Mike, Fred, Josh, Pete; they were all here. At a bush festival. Coincidence? She thought not. Something was brewing. She was willing to bet that random phone call between Josh and Dad was not the only one buzzing around Bell River grazing district last night.

  ‘Did you tell my dad about this?’

  ‘Why do you think he’s here?’ Josh answered.

  ‘Not for the dog jump,’ said Zoe.

  ‘Your dad and Fred are checking the cattle at the festival. Ranges Pastoral Co. is supplying them to the event.’ Josh reached out and touched her leg as though it were the most natural gesture in the world. ‘We’re going for a ride to see what other stock they have in their paddocks.’

  Please, no big Black Angus bullocks, Zoe silently prayed.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

  The grassy strip along the side of the road got wider and Josh pushed his horse into a canter. Zoe cantered alongside him, enjoying the rocking stride and the crisp autumn air. Before long they reached a lane. ‘This must be it,’ said Josh.

  They rode for what seemed like miles. The country was lightly forested with pasture beneath the trees giving them cooling shade. She scrutinised every beast they passed in the long grass. Her trained eyes also checked for blocky black shapes in the dips and hollows and murky shadows.

  ‘There,’ said Josh. He pointed to a flicker of silver between distant trees. ‘Yards.’

  ‘Let’s find the gate,’ said Zoe. Before long she found a loop and unhooked it, letting Josh through.

  They checked over their shoulders quickly and cantered to the refuge of the trees. They rode from clump to clump, keeping to the shadows. Spiderman shot up ahead, around in circles and back again, covering five times more distance than he needed to, but Frankie trotted close, obedient to Zoe’s whistle.

  ‘I wonder how big this place is,’ she said.

  ‘No idea,’ said Josh. ‘There’s no house or anything. It’s just all grazing, Pete reckons.’

  ‘There are some sheds.’ Zoe felt a chill up her spine. There were old cars too. Was there anyone there now? She pulled Jacky to a stop and listened for people sounds. Josh pulled up alongside her and called out, ‘Hello?’

  ‘What are you going to say?’ asked Zoe. ‘Hi, we’re just wondering if you’d stolen any of our cattle?

  ’ He gave her a droll stare. ‘Can we water our horses, maybe?’

  ‘Oh yes, well, that would work too.’

  The yards were steel, portable and full of fresh, runny cowdung. Wheel tracks in the grass ran uphill to another gate. There were two shipping containers, and lots of broken beer bottles in a brick firepit full of spent ashes. More disturbingly, a hail of little black discs littered the ground around the cattle race.

  ‘Ear-tag backings,’ said Josh. There were hundreds of them.

  Zoe dismounted and picked up a few. They had been cut with something sharp to remove the front identification tag. ‘Shame they didn’t leave the barcodes lying around.’

  ‘Let’s look over here,’ said Josh, turning his horse away.

  Zoe stuffed the ear tags into her pocket and mounted again, then took another track and rode between the trees, surveying all the wrecked cars. She caught sight of something beyond the yards, a small truck with a wide, dark-green panel down the sides of the stock crate. It was familiar. But it wasn’t Scotty’s. Strange.

  The truck was parked under a huge coral tree, and she noticed that many branches had been snapped. Had someone tried to hide the vehicle?

  Its tyres were plump. The windows were closed and clean. The mud was still moist along its sides. No grass had died beneath its belly from lack of sun. No leaves had decomposed in the rut beneath the windscreen where they always collected and made compost. The truck had been here for less than a week, you could tell.

  ‘I know this truck,’ she called.

  Josh rode over to join her. ‘Where from?’

  She shook her head, unsure.

  ‘Let’s look for your dad’s cattle,’ he said, reining his horse away again.

  Zoe followed. A mob of five horses raised their heads as they rode through the weed-filled pasture and then got back to grazing. There were a few old dairy cows and many more Murray greys, but no Black Angus.

  They rode up and over a gently undulating hill. In the valley below, a huge lake spread out before them. It was silvery blue under the midday sun and the gentle wind put little ripples like fish scales over the surface. As the lake was behind neat fences and surrounded by recently slashed pastures, Zoe guessed it was on the next-door property. Fat Herefords lay chewing cud under the surrounding trees.

  ‘I’d love to swim in that,’ she said, imagining the cool, silky water washing the sweat and dust from her skin and sweeping the hair off her face. ‘Reckon anyone would see us?’

  ‘No time,’ said Josh, sounding disappointed. ‘The high-jump starts in an hour. We’ll have to move it.’

  A text message from Mike confirmed this. She pulled her chiming phone from her pocket and flipped it open.

  Dad wants to know if you put the dog entries in.

  Zoe cursed. She had forgotten to go and fill out the forms and pay the fees. She patted her back pocket and was relieved to find Dad
’s wallet was still there. ‘We’d better hurry,’ she said to Josh, and set Blackjack in a canter back towards the laneway. Josh galloped alongside her.

  It wasn’t until they rode through the side gate of the showgrounds that Josh asked her where her pink hat was.

  Zoe’s hand flew to the top of her helmet. ‘Oh no,’ she groaned. She let rip with the dirtiest swear word she knew and Josh winced.

  ‘You had it when we left the showgrounds,’ he said. ‘But I can’t remember it after that.’

  Zoe spat a thousand more curses under her breath.

  ‘It’ll be in the grass somewhere,’ said Josh, sounding unconvincingly hopeful. ‘No one will see it.’

  ‘What if it fell off near the yards or the shed?’

  This wasn’t good; whoever owned the property would know she had been snooping. Scotty had seen her in that hat. So had his dad, earlier on.

  ‘We’ll go back,’ said Josh.

  ‘Now?’

  ‘No, later, after the dog jump. There should be enough daylight.’

  Zoe exhaled loudly. What other option did she have? She prayed the hat was lying in long grass somewhere, hidden under a big fresh cowpat.

  ‘Okay,’ she agreed, whistling for Frankie. ‘Anyway, gotta go. I haven’t paid for mine and Dad’s entries.’

  ‘Better hurry.’

  She grinned suddenly. ‘Right. You’re going down, whippet,’ she said, pointing to Spiderman, who still ran about like a neurotic ferret.

  ‘Bring it on,’ said Josh.

  15

  Zoe cantered to the secretary’s office, with the victorious feeling that she’d reclaimed another part of her life. It was so good to be riding Blackjack again and Scotty was well and truly out of her system. She leapt off and panted happily into the tiny office window. ‘My dad rang through some entries for the dog jump.’ She recognised Debbie, the secretary, who was from Bell River district.

  Debbie passed some forms through the tiny window. ‘Your dad needs to sign his own,’ she said before Zoe could take off again.

  Zoe stopped and looked desperately around her. She didn’t have time to go and find Dad. She raised her hands beseechingly. ‘I have no idea where he is!’