by Karen Wood
They made their way to Ryan’s truck, munching on the sausages as they walked.
‘Thanks for the lend of the horse,’ Corey said to Luke.
‘She travel okay?’
‘Nup.’
‘Did you bring Legsy?’ asked Shara.
‘Nup,’ said Luke. He walked around to the back, where Ryan was winching the tailgate down. ‘I was already out at Blakely Downs when I heard about the brumby ride. Rusty and Tinks were in the home paddock, and I thought they’d be perfect to bring along – they were victims of a wild horse race.’ He shrugged. ‘So I came back.’
Shara gasped with delight. ‘You’re a genius!’
Ryan led a rusty-coloured yearling and a small brown foal, about six months old, down the loading ramp. Their coats were sun-bleached and shaggy, but they were in fine body condition.
Luke took Rusty’s rope from Ryan and tied him to the side of the truck. ‘These guys were heli-mustered up north for a wild horse race – both their parents died in the muster. Tinks’ mum died giving birth after being galloped for hours in forty-five-degree heat. The stallion never even made it to the yards.’
Shara noticed a journalist, with a camera slung around his neck, watching them and listening. He walked over. ‘Any chance of an interview?’ he asked Luke.
Shara saw her parents stepping out of the four-wheel drive in the car park. She ran over to them. ‘Luke brought his brumbies along,’ she said, bursting with happiness and excitement. ‘They’re doing a story on him. Some of Corey’s friends abandoned the rodeo and rode with us instead. The Connemans have been arrested. It’s been such an amazing day!’ She was talking a million miles an hour, but she couldn’t help it. She threw her arms around her dad’s neck.
‘Don’t forget your appointment with the mayor,’ Barry whispered in her ear. ‘Two o’clock.’
26
AS THEY GIRTHED UP for the second leg of the ride, Lurlene Spencer approached Shara with a bundle of papers tucked under her arm. ‘I managed to scrape a lot of them off the road,’ she said, handing the tattered papers to Shara. She had bound them with a piece of hay band knotted in the middle. ‘The girls at the office reprinted some of the formal paperwork. It should still do the job. But please don’t drop it this time.’
‘I promise I won’t,’ said Shara, as she lifted a foot into her stirrup.
The ride continued down a gentle slope over the other side of the mountain, the horses quiet-footed on the decomposing leaves of eucalypt forest. The voices of the riders murmuring over the hoofbeats sounded weary. Shara noticed the silence of the forest. The currawongs and finches had fled as more than a hundred horses marched sombrely through. Every so often there was a sudden crash, crash of a wallaby bolting unseen through the thick underscrub, cracking branches and crunching leaves.
Shara rode in silence, thinking of Goldie. She tried to picture him in his new home. A family, John had said. Was it a girl, she wondered, who would watch him fill out into a muscular young horse? Or was it a guy who would break and train him at home? Would Goldie go on to compete in rodeo? She had been too shocked to ask, but she would ask John when she got the chance. Maybe the people might even send her a photo of him now and then, looking loved and well cared for. That would be nice, she decided.
She sighed and continued down the trail, which soon came back to the bitumen road but at a point closer to the town of Kympania. It was a small town, unremarkable except for its beautiful council chambers surrounded by huge old fig trees sprawling their massive grey roots over the lawns.
Most riders continued through the main street and made their way back towards the rodeo grounds, while Shara and her friends presented the petitions.
The mayor was a mayoress. She welcomed Shara and her friends and listened politely while Shara explained their cause. Then she gave an unconvincing smile while posing during the handing-over of the petition for the photographer, who took one shot and raced off to his next job. The mayor also raced off to her next job, leaving Shara, Jess, Grace, Rosie, Tom, Luke and Corey to show themselves out.
Shara watched her disappear with brisk steps through the large open doors of the council chambers, carrying the bundle of papers. ‘I hope she finds time to read them,’ she said out loud.
As they rode out of town, Shara and Corey let the others ride ahead. They passed the rodeo grounds and the Connemans’ truck, which had been moved to the side of the road. She was relieved to see no sign of them. All that was left of the ride was a sea of trampled horse poo along the bitumen.
‘It’ll wash away in the next rain,’ shrugged Corey.
‘No different to a cattle drive,’ said Shara, looking up ahead to the showgrounds, where rest and a cool drink waited for her.
Behind his Hilux ute, Corey tethered Chelpie to the float and pulled off her saddle. On the other side, Shara pulled the big roping saddle off Rocko. They appeared at the back of the ute at the same time, and in perfect unison, flipped their fenders over the seats of their saddles and draped the breastplates on top. Then they both tossed everything effortlessly into the back.
‘Oh no,’ Shara said suddenly.
‘What now?’ said Corey, looking around in alarm.
She took him by the shirt and dragged him to the side of the float. He looked at her, puzzled.
She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I think there’s a security guard coming.’
‘Uh-oh,’ he said.
She looked up at his eyes, heavy-lidded and weary but still twinkling with amusement. A faint tinge of bruising still rimmed his cheekbone. She reached up, took his hat off and put it on her own head.
He ran a hand through his shaggy hat hair and took a step closer to her. ‘What’ll we do?’
‘It’s okay. I’ll cover your arse,’ she said, sliding her hands around his waist and down into the back pockets of his jeans. ‘Just follow my lead.’
He leaned down and ran his lips, softly, barely there, along her neck and under her ear. ‘Like this?’ She felt his leg wrap around hers as he stared down at her, meeting her gaze.
‘No, like this.’ Shara leaned up towards him. As she kissed his lips, she felt his hand run up the back of her neck and pull her closer. His kiss was strong and gentle and very . . . very . . . long. By the time he let go of her she felt she’d been turned inside-out. Her breath came in short rasps and her legs were wobbly.
‘Is he gone yet?’ Corey whispered, nuzzling her ear.
‘Who?’
‘The security dude.’
‘Oh, him. No, I think he’s getting closer.’ She kissed him again and pulled his hat brim down low to block out the universe.
27
THE GIRLS CLUST ERED AROUND Shara’s kitchen bench, eagerly reading the morning news.
‘Look how much coverage we got,’ said Shara. ‘Two articles in one paper.’
KYMPANIA WILD HORSE RACE AXED
ORGANISERS of the Kympania Rodeo have cancelled all future wild horse races following pressure from animal welfare groups.
The decision was prompted by protests at the rodeo and also by the threat of legal action from the RS PCA .
The RS PCA last night confirmed the organisation was opposed to the event. ‘A carnival environment is far removed from any animal’s natural habitat. When you compound this problem with neglect and cruelty, an animal’s life becomes extremely miserable.’
The Conneman brothers, who supply horses for the event, said, ‘The event is not cruel. The horses love every minute of it.’
A rodeo association spokesperson said it followed strict guidelines for animal welfare and it did not wish to breach them in any way.‘The wild horse race is not a traditional rodeo event. It is not a competitive event, but purely for entertainment.’
BRUMBIES SEIZED; CONTRACTOR CHARGED
Police and RS PCA officers seized horses and cattle from stock contractors at the Kympania rodeo, citing animal neglect and cruelty.
Graham and Mark Conneman were charged with
breach of duty of care and failing to provide adequate veterinary treatment after brumbies in their care were found sick and dying at a remote property.
Mark Conneman had prior convictions of animal neglect.
‘And don’t forget the magazine article with Luke, Tinks and Rusty,’ said Jess. ‘That will come out next month.’
Barry kicked off his boots in the doorway and joined them. ‘How do you like your new-found fame, girls?’
‘Did you see the paper, Dad?’
‘Better results when you go about things properly, hey?’
‘It’s fantastic,’ said Shara. ‘Did you read these articles?’
‘I did, and I’m proud of you,’ said Barry.
‘I hope they never get the horses back. Lurlene said that a lot of the time courts give them their animals back because they need them to make a living.’
‘Well, we’ll just have to wait and see,’ said Barry. ‘But you have done those horses a really big favour already. I’m sure everything will work out for them.’
‘I hope so,’ said Shara. Again, she couldn’t help thinking of Goldie.
The driveway down to John’s surgery was long, straight and lined on either side with tall white flooded gums. The early morning light shone through them in soft golden streaks. In the small paddocks behind the trees, the bandaged horses and baby calves munched on their feed.
Shara rode Rocko towards the house.
‘Hey,’ said a drowsy voice.
‘Hey.’
In the open doorway was Corey, brown hair everywhere, yawning and tucking in his T-shirt. He jumped off the front verandah and waved her to the stables. ‘Come and see the horses that were seized from the Connemans.’
Shara tied Rocko to a hitching rail. She peered into the first stable and instantly recognised the red taffy mare. ‘Goldie’s mum.’ The mare had the same softness in her eyes that had been in the little colt’s. When Shara stepped near her, however, the softness vanished and her eyes became wily and fearful. She lifted her head and backed away.
‘I’m going to buy her. She’s had a horrible life, poor thing,’ said Corey.
‘She’s very pretty,’ said Shara. ‘What are you going to do with her?’
‘Put her out to stud. Lawson Blake said I could put Biyanga over her.’
‘You might get a silver taffy,’ said Shara. Biyanga was jet black. ‘It would be just like Goldie, only not so naughty.’ She thought of all Goldie’s antics: Mr Hickling’s lychee trees and Mrs Jenkins’s washing.
She felt Corey’s arm slip over her shoulder. ‘You can have her next foal. It can be your birthday pressie.’
She put her hand on his arm and looked up at him. ‘How did you know it was my birthday today?’
‘Jess drilled me. You’ll have to wait a while, though, till she’s healthier and all that sort of thing. And until I suck up to your dad a bit.’
She smiled. ‘He’s a lot cooler than he was a week ago.’ Then she looked at the mare again. It would be so nice to have another little Goldie. A hardy mountain brumby crossed with Biyanga’s bloodlines. ‘Do you mean it?’ she asked. ‘I could really have a foal from her?’
‘Only if you promise not to run off with any other cowboys. I know what a groupie you are.’
She whacked him. ‘I’m so not into cowboys.’
‘Yes you are, you love them,’ he said, picking her up and lifting her in the air. She put her arms around his neck.
‘I’ve got something for you now,’ he said, putting her down and reaching into the pocket of his jeans. He fumbled around for a while and pulled out a small black velvet pouch with a gold tie-string.
‘What is it?’ She untied the string and shook the bag over her palm. ‘My horsey charm!’
‘It was stuck in my shirt. I found it when I was shoving my clothes in the wash.’
‘Ohhhh, my horsey,’ she said. ‘It’s meant to be Rocko.’ She kissed it and then reached up and kissed him, so happy to have it back. ‘Thank you.’
‘Keep tipping, there’s another one in there too.’
Shara opened the tie-strings wide and peered in. ‘Oh wow.’ She poked a finger in and fished out another tiny horse charm; gold with a silver mane. ‘It’s a little taffy!’ She put a hand to Corey’s face. ‘Did they surrender Sampson?’
‘Nah. Graham will just transfer his papers to Mandy. She’s always wanted him.’
Shara pulled a face.
‘At least he’ll be better looked after with her,’ said Corey with a shrug. ‘She cares a lot more about her horses than her dad does.’
The sound of tyres on gravel rumbled behind them and Shara looked out of the stable block. Lawson’s truck rolled down the driveway with three people in the front. ‘Jessy and Luke!’ she said happily.
‘Thank God, they can take this woeful white mare back to where she came from. She’s upsetting all the other horses. I don’t know what it is about her.’
‘Chelpie’s a wild white water demon,’ said Shara. ‘That’s what Jess reckons.’ She skipped out to the driveway. Two velvety muzzles poked out of the truck’s side windows. She jumped up and gave them a rub. ‘Hey, little cuties!’
Jess stuck her head out the window. ‘Happy birthday, best bestie!’
‘Thanks! I thought you were grounded!’
‘I’ve been officially pardoned. What did you get?’
Shara jumped off the side of the truck. ‘Look what Corey gave me!’
Lawson Blake got out, slammed the door and walked to the back of the truck to begin winching down the tailgate.
John Duggin came out of the surgery, his phone clamped to the side of his head. ‘Yep. Yep. Whereabouts? How many? Uh-huh. Jesus. Hmmm, maybe. Okay then, Lurlene.’ He hung up and shook his head with disapproval.
‘The Connemans have another mob of wildies somewhere down in New South Wales,’ he said. ‘They haven’t paid the brumby runner and now there are six horses headed for the slaughterhouse.’
‘Where in New South Wales?’ asked Lawson.
‘On the tablelands, not far over the border,’ John said. ‘A place called Mathew’s Flat.’
Shara noticed Jess glance anxiously at Luke.
Luke looked as though he’d just been punched.
‘They’re looking for someone with a spare truck, some good-quality yards and a kind heart.’
‘Well, that cuts Lawson out,’ mumbled Jess.
Luke and Lawson exchanged glances. Something ran through the exchange that Shara couldn’t quite pick up on, but she could tell that this was about more than just the brumbies. Jess suddenly looked intensely worried too. Shara decided to shut up and keep out of it.
‘Might be time to go back, Luke,’ said Lawson, in a voice that was uncharacteristically gentle.
Luke’s jaw was set tight. He nodded. ‘You coming too?’
‘Yeah, mate,’ said Lawson. He switched his attention back to John. ‘Tell Lurlene we’ll drop these horses out at Blakely Downs and then head straight to New South Wales. I’ll ring her up and get the details in a couple of days.’
Chelpie was loaded in a matter of minutes and Jess hung off the side of the truck door hugging Luke through the window as it rolled back out the driveway. She jumped off at the letterbox and stood watching the truck disappear up the road.
‘What was that all about?’ Shara asked her when she came back down the driveway.
‘Luke’s father lives down there in Mathew’s Flat. He hasn’t seen him since he was four years old. It’s where his mother died.’
‘How did she die?’ asked Shara. Luke was always so closed and mysterious.
Jess shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about it. He never talks about his past.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’m going to walk home,’ said Jess. She looked miserable again, as she always was when Luke went away.
Shara was beginning to know how she felt. She looked at her watch. Her parents were taking her back to Canningdale straight aft
er lunch. ‘Just one minute while I say goodbye to Corey and I’ll double you home,’ she said to Jess.
The goodbye kiss took longer than Shara anticipated – she just couldn’t let go of Corey. Just one minute turned into about another ten, until Jess started coughing exaggeratedly outside the door of the stable.
Corey slung his arm over Shara’s shoulder. ‘I’ll come down on a weekend and visit you. Me and Jess and Luke, we’ll all come down.’
He gave her a leg-up onto Rocko and walked beside her as she rode out of the building.
Jess vaulted up behind her and as Shara leaned down to give Corey one last kiss, Jess kicked Rocko in the flanks. ‘That’s enough, let’s get going before you both make me puke.’
‘You can talk!’ said Shara indignantly, as Rocko broke into a trot. ‘Bye!’ she called back to Corey.
He stood in the big open doorway of the old wooden stables and smiled his gorgeous smile, a smile she knew she’d dream about constantly until she saw him again.
28
SHARA SAT IN THE back of the car with her phone in her hand, flicking messages back and forth with her friends. It was early evening and the sky was darkening already. Barry brought the car down a gear. Up ahead were the old red-brick buildings of Canningdale College, with their creamy archways and timber window frames, surrounded by a small farm.
Barry flicked on the indicator and crossed hand-overhand, bringing the car and float carefully through the gates. They drove past the dorms, the Animal Science labs and the Agricultural Technologies building to the stables and horse paddocks.
Rocko whinnied loudly in the back of the float, and out in the paddocks a horse answered with a high-pitched whicker that reminded Shara of Goldie. But then, everything reminded her of Goldie right now.
Barry stopped the car by the gate to the horse paddock.
‘Keep going to the stables, Dad,’ she said. ‘We can unload Rocko there. I have to get him an extra rug, it’s freezing down here.’
