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Moonstone Promise

Page 15

by Karen Wood


  ‘I’ll go and ring Dad and ask him to bring us some formula,’ said Grace, jumping off the fence and running to the house.

  ‘She’s a brumby, she’ll pull through,’ said Lawson, hopping up on the yard rails and looking in. Rusty ran up to the other two yearlings and began bleating like a goat. He was small and skinny, and his head was too big for his body. He was not an impressive horse by any stretch of the imagination. Chocky trotted past him, big, muscular and proud. His belly tightened as he let out an impressive roar and chased up the two fillies, herding them all into a tight bunch.

  Luke noticed a glow in Lawson’s eyes as he watched Chocky move around the yard.

  ‘He’s got it all, that horse,’ Lawson said, almost to himself.

  Lawson had a thing about brumbies, Luke was beginning to realise.

  Beyond the yards, Legsy roared back at the strange new colt in the yards. Then a long authoritative scream rang from the stables as Biyanga joined in.

  ‘Lot of testosterone around here,’ Luke commented.

  ‘Yeah, I was just wondering about that,’ said Lawson. ‘What are you going to do with that brown colt?’

  ‘Chocky?’ Luke had no idea what he would do with any of them. He’d never expected to see the brumbies again, least of all Chocky. Bob must have known the rodeo contractors up there and got him thrown in on the deal.

  ‘Wanna sell him?’ asked Lawson.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Luke. Behind Lawson, he could see Legsy, big, black and magnificent, cantering about and shaking his long impressive mane. A crazy, far-flung idea came to his head. ‘But I don’t want money.’

  Lawson followed Luke’s eyes to Legsy and snorted. ‘He’s a valuable horse; reckon that’d be a fair swap?’ The undertone in his voice said, you’re dreaming.

  ‘Yep,’ said Luke. Big horse dream. Big dream horse. It was worth a shot.

  Lawson glared at him.

  Luke glared right back and shrugged. ‘Where else are you going to get a brumby from?’

  ‘Righto, fair swap.’

  ‘Really?’ Luke nearly fell off the fence.

  ‘Yeah, the old man would have liked you to have him.’

  ‘Reckon?’

  ‘I know it. We read his will last week.’

  ‘Legsy’s mine? Harry left me Legsy?’

  Lawson smiled and nodded. ‘He suits you, bro.’ He held out a hand to shake.

  Luke took it, plaster and all, shook it hard and stared into Lawson’s face. ‘So is that how it’s going to be?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you my brother or not?’

  ‘Course I am. Now piss off and get that colt worked. He hasn’t been out of that paddock since the day you left.’

  ‘But . . . the foal . . . Tinkerbell . . .’

  ‘You’ve all but given her to Grace now,’ Lawson chuckled. ‘The foal will be fine. Go and ride your new horse.’

  Luke looked at the listless foal in the yard. ‘What if she doesn’t drink?’

  ‘Gracie’ll take care of her.’

  Luke knew he was right. Grace had raised more foals than he ever had. Tinkerbell was in good hands. He leapt off the yard rail. ‘Wahoo!’ he hollered, and ran to the stables. He grabbed the first bridle he could find and ran to Legsy’s paddock.

  ‘Legsy! Here, boy!’

  The colt cantered up and nearly stuffed his head into the bridle by himself, opening his mouth and chomping at the bit. Luke laughed as he buckled it up, kicked off his boots, and vaulted up onto him bareback. ‘Haven’t you been out for a while, buddy?’

  ‘I’m going down the river for a swim,’ he yelled as he trotted Legsy down the laneway past Lawson and Annie. He couldn’t wait to feel that cool water wash over him and to look up through the coachwood leaves. The colt broke into a canter and Luke grabbed hold of a piece of mane. Legsy skipped and pigrooted, squealing happily, as the pups yapped and raced behind them.

  27

  OUT ON THE river flats, Luke kicked Legsy into a gallop and let him stretch his legs, leaping over thick long grass in big jumps. He ducked as they cantered into the tree-lined creek, splashed through the water and trotted up the other side.

  Luke let go of the reins and ripped the football jersey off his back, letting it fly up into the air behind him and disappear into the grassy flats.

  When he reached the swimming hole, he dived off the colt’s back and rolled around in the water, ducking under, swimming as far as he could without air and coming up again. The river was like wine.

  He rolled over and floated on his back, staring up through the trees. Bands of blinding silver light streaked through the leaves, bouncing off the water that rippled over his chest. He ran his hands over his ribs.

  A rumbling noise grew beyond the trees: the vibration of horses’ hooves over soft earth. The coachwood leaves jangled with the tremors.

  Luke lifted his head from the water and grabbed for the colt’s reins. He heard shrill cries, laughter. Filth and Fang yapped excitedly.

  ‘Luke!’

  ‘Where are you, Luke?’

  ‘COOOO-EEE!’

  Luke stood waist-deep in the water. The sound of his name wrapped in such familiar voices made him smile from ear to ear. He began wading out to the bank. ‘Over here!’

  A throng of horses and people galloped towards the swimming hole.

  Tom was the first to burst through the trees on Nosey. The horse was gleaming with sweat and looked fit and muscular. Legsy squealed at him.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ Tom demanded, slipping off and tying Nosey to a tree.

  ‘Up in the Gulf,’ grinned Luke. He couldn’t wait to tell him all about it.

  Shara came next on Rocko, ducking as she rode under a branch and straight into the river. ‘Hi, Luke,’ she said. ‘About time you got back. Jess has been pining for you.’

  Rosie followed shortly after on Buster. And behind her, on Buster’s rump, was Jess, barefoot, wearing shorts and an old singlet, her arms around Rosie’s waist, laughing.

  Jess slipped off the side of the horse, dragging Rosie with her, and they both landed in a giggling heap in the sand as Buster snorted and shied sideways. ‘Whoa, Buster,’ said Rosie, reaching up and grabbing for the reins.

  Tom ran towards Luke, dived on him, grabbed his head and tried to shove him under the water.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you . . .’

  Fang immediately went on the attack, pouncing into the water and clamping his jaws around Tom’s neck with ferocious high-pitched snarls.

  ‘It’s trying to kill me!’ shrieked Tom, pulling at the wet, stinky black thing. ‘Where’d you get the wolves from?’

  Luke helped him pry the pup loose. ‘You’re going to have to treat me with a bit more respect now, Tom,’ he joked.

  ‘Oh, what cute puppies,’ said Jess, rolling over in the sand and clapping her hands to them. ‘Where did they come from? Are they yours?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Luke. ‘I seem to be theirs, anyway. Meet Fang and Filth.’

  Both pups promptly jumped all over her, wiggling. ‘They’re adorable,’ said Jess.

  ‘They need worming,’ grumbled Tom, running his hand around the toothmarks on his throat.

  They all swam in the river and swung off the old tyre for hours. Between swims, Shara and Jess amused themselves by burying the pups up to their necks in the coarse river sand and seeing which one could break out the fastest. Fang won every time.

  Luke and Tom jumped out of tree branches and dive-bombed into the river, splashing everyone. Rosie sat up on a rock, keeping dry and painting her toenails.

  Luke eventually pulled himself out of the water and plonked himself on the sand a short distance from the girls, flicking water out of his hair and catching his breath. Filth and Fang waggled their way over to him and ran their heads under his hands.

  ‘Hey, little runt,’ he said, giving Filth a cuff on the head. ‘What do you think of the Coachwood River? Reckon it might be a good place to stop a while? You
like all this attention, don’t you.’

  Jess crawled through the sand and knelt in front of Luke.

  ‘So did the moonstone work?’

  He picked the stone up from his throat and looked down at it. ‘Yeah, it did. Want it back?’

  She shook her head, grinning at him.

  ‘What?’

  She laughed. ‘What have you been doing to yourself? You look like you’ve been through a cheese grater.’

  ‘Oh, yeah that,’ said Luke, looking down at his legs. ‘Spinifex, it’s lethal.’

  ‘It’s all over your back too. And your arms,’ she noted. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I was chasing a helicopter.’

  She seemed to find that hysterically funny. ‘Did you catch it?’

  He laughed too. Looking back, it was always going to be futile. ‘No.’

  ‘What happened to your arm?’

  ‘Took a bit of a tumble,’ he said holding the plaster up.

  She twirled her finger around like a propeller. ‘Chasing . . .’

  He nodded. ‘. . . helicopters.’

  ‘What about that?’ Jess pointed to the cut on his shoulder.

  Luke looked down at it. The scab was messy, but it was healing. He grinned as he thought of Tyson.

  ‘Knife fight. Big hairy guy wanted to have a go.’

  Jess looked shocked. ‘Really?’

  Luke shrugged, nodded and tried to look nonchalant. ‘I got him first.’

  ‘With a real knife?’

  Luke nodded. ‘Uh-huh.’

  Jess’s eyes were running all over him, but for the first time in his life he didn’t care. He looked straight back at her. She was little, with golden-brown hair and huge green eyes. Her legs were covered with sand.

  ‘And that?’ she asked, indicating the slash across the back of his hand.

  ‘Found a brumby in a barbed wire trap. I was trying to help her.’

  ‘Barbed wire? Did you get it out?’

  He shook his head. ‘She had a little foal too; it was sad.’

  Her expression changed. ‘Did it live?’

  ‘Yeah, it did – all the other brumbies in the mob took care of him. It was amazing. I couldn’t stop watching them. Still can’t,’ Luke smiled. ‘He’s in the yards at Harry’s.’

  Jess’s face lit up. ‘You brought brumbies home?’

  ‘Yeah, you gotta come up and see them. There’s an orphan foal too.’

  ‘And you’ve been sitting around under trees watching them all day, huh?’

  ‘Yeah, like some other idiot I know,’ he teased. ‘Least it wasn’t for a whole year.’

  ‘What about this?’ she asked, taking his hand in hers and turning it over. There was a big long cut where the fishing line had sliced. She ran her finger along it and then looked at him, waiting for an answer.

  Luke smiled as he thought of Toby.

  ‘Croc got on my handline. Fought like a bastard, swishing and fighting; it wanted to death-roll me and jam me under a rock so my guts rotted.’

  A suspicious look came over Jess’s face. ‘Right. And what about that?’ She pointed to the lumps that ran down his left side.

  ‘Wrestling water buffalo,’ he said, without missing a beat. ‘Got me a beauty.’ He gave his ribs a pat and shook his head, whistling through his teeth, ‘Geez, it hurt.’

  Jess screwed up her nose and shoved Luke’s shoulder so hard he reeled over backwards. ‘There’s no water buffalo in Queensland!’

  ‘There is!’ he insisted. ‘Heaps of them, all migrating over the border from the Northern Territory! Climate change – it’s really bad up there!’

  ‘You’re so full of it!’ She shoved him again.

  ‘It’s true! They’re like the polar bears of the Northern Territory; all their land is—’ He cracked up. ‘—melting!’

  Jess raised her eyebrows at him. ‘The Northern Territory is melting.’

  Luke raised his shoulders and tried to look indifferent. ‘Or freezing, or something. There’s some seriously pissed-off water buffalo up there, anyway.’

  Jess put her hands on her hips and pulled a seriously doubtful expression.

  Luke jumped up and tackled her, wrapping his arms around her waist and hoisting her into the air with a roar.

  She squealed noisily as he ran straight for the water and plunged in. The water crashed around and swallowed them both. He sank under the water; bubbles trickled up around his face and he could see arms and legs, flailing about. Pushing his feet off the sandy riverbed, he shot up through the surface of the water, shaking his head and laughing.

  Jess bobbed up, gasping and spluttering. She pushed a wave of water right at his face with the flat of her hand.

  Luke dodged and kept his eyes locked on her. ‘What’s your dad’s name again?’

  Jess looked confused. ‘Craig, why?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  The sound of a small motorbike puttered beyond the trees. It grew louder as it got closer.

  Elliot Duggin, the vet’s youngest son, appeared on a Peewee 50 and the mood of the whole place changed instantly. Jess nearly walked on water. She paddled her arms desperately and rushed to the river’s edge.

  Elliot, small with geeky glasses and a shirt buttoned up to his throat, pulled off his big red helmet.

  ‘What? What is it?’ Jess demanded, grabbing for her towel.

  ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you,’ said Elliot. ‘Marnie’s started to foal!’

  Jess threw her towel on the ground. ‘Oh my God, it’s time! It’s coming!’ She began running.

  ‘Take the colt, Jess!’ Luke yelled after her.

  But she kept running, straight across the river flats, barefoot with her wet hair slapping down her back.

  28

  WHEN LUKE REACHED the others, Marnie was lying down outside the paddock. Lawson was at her head and John Duggin was at her tail end. Jess was pacing frantically nearby while Shara tried to calm her down.

  ‘You kids, take your horses up to the stables,’ said Lawson. He pointed at Luke and waved him over.

  Luke dismounted and handed his reins to Tom. He walked quietly over and crouched down near the mare. She groaned and lifted her head up off the ground, her legs going stiff and her whole body shuddering.

  ‘How long’s she been down?’

  ‘About forty minutes,’ said Lawson with a frown. ‘It’s backwards.’

  Luke looked to the mare’s back end. John was up to his elbow in horse. Sweat rolled down his face. ‘I can find its tail,’ he grunted. ‘If I could just get both its hind legs . . .’ He grimaced and pushed deeper.

  Lawson pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them to Luke. ‘You know where I keep my gun,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Grab it and put it in the back of my ute when the girls aren’t looking and drive it down here. Tell the others to stay up at the stables. The fewer people here the better.’

  ‘What for?’ asked Luke.

  There was a long, high-pitched whinny from the creek and Luke whipped his head around. A flash of brilliant white appeared between the trees and then disappeared. Chelpie.

  ‘For that thing. I’ve had it with her,’ said Lawson. ‘Now, go.’

  Luke began running up the hill towards Lawson’s small blue house. He could hear a horse thrashing about in the creek.

  At the stables, he took Grace aside. ‘Chelpie’s out again,’ he said. ‘Lawson just asked me to get his gun. Can you go grab it from the house, put it in the ute and take it down to him. I’m going to go and see if I can catch her before he shoots her.’

  Grace looked horrified.

  ‘See if you can stall for time,’ said Luke.

  Grace nodded and walked smartly towards the house.

  Luke grabbed a halter, locked the pups in a stable and headed for the river.

  Chelpie was going nuts. She smashed between the trees, screaming and whinnying. Even from a distance, Luke could see that her ribs stuck out terribly. Her rump sagged like an old tent and her
belly was huge.

  He ran after her. ‘Chelpie! Here, girl.’

  The white mare spun and rushed at him, her teeth bared. Luke jumped behind a tree. ‘Hey, what’s got into you?’

  Then Chelpie cantered off again and he saw. Her tail and hind legs were covered in blood.

  ‘You’ve had a foal! Where is it?’

  He could hear Chelpie ahead, screaming frantically, and he scrambled after her along the creek towards the Pettilows’ place. After following her for several minutes, he came out onto the river flats near the Pettilow property.

  Katrina came into view, walking across the flats with a halter in her hand. ‘Chelpie! Come here!’ She bolted for the safety of the fenceline when Chelpie galloped at her.

  ‘She’s just crazy!’ Luke heard her complain angrily. ‘I can’t catch her!’

  On the hillside, under the trees, a man worked with a shovel. ‘Just get the stupid animal back in here before she causes any more trouble,’ he said, without breaking from his digging . . . or burying? Luke spotted a gun leaning against a nearby tree.

  Chelpie cantered along the fenceline, whinnying. Katrina jumped back away from her.

  Luke walked calmly towards them across the field. Chelpie spotted him and trotted straight at him with her ears flat back.

  Luke stood passively and let Chelpie come to him. She stopped in front of him and put her nose in his lap. ‘Chelpie,’ he said gently. ‘What happened?’

  The little mare nickered softly, then gave a long, sad whinny. He put the rope around her neck and then slid the halter over her ears. ‘Easy, girl.’

  Katrina marched over to him. ‘I’ll take her,’ she said, holding her hand out for the rope.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Luke.

  ‘Nothing. It’s none of your business.’ Katrina yanked at Chelpie’s rope.

  Luke kept hold of it. ‘Did she lose a foal or something?’

  ‘No.’ Katrina pulled harder.

  Luke refused to let go. ‘Come on, Katrina, she’s got blood all over her. What’s your dad burying over there?’

  ‘This horse has exceptional breeding and has had a very successful show career. We hand-raised her since she was a two-day-old foal. You don’t think I’m going to just let her have a foal to some mongrel-bred stockhorse, do you?’

 

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