Under the Flame Tree

by Karen Wood

  ‘So I can ride in the finals,’ Kirra said, clenching her fist and trying to find strength in it.

  ‘You won’t need to,’ said her dad. ‘You were the only one who made time.’

  Kirra’s lungs whooshed with relief as she sank back into the chair.

  ‘Want some food?’ asked Jim. ‘I’m hungry and the burgers smell great.’

  ‘I think I’d throw it up.’

  ‘Mind if I do?’

  ‘You go. I’m all right,’ she said.

  Kirra watched her dad walk out of the tent, and as she did her eyes caught Daniel’s.

  What was he doing here? Was he crazy? He watched her from under the rim of a broad black hat and stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, leaning against a white ute.

  She gave him a worried smile.

  He pulled his hat off. Not Daniel. The guy in front of her had the same tall physique, the same jawline, but his eyes were wider set and he was older. Was he Daniel’s brother? He did have three of them.

  The guy put his hat back on and then he was gone before she could think of anything to say.

  ‘Hi, Macey!’ Natalie walked into the first-aid tent carrying two cans of cola, wet with condensation. She cracked one and passed it to Kirra: another ritual between the girls. Nat always met Kirra in the first-aid tent with a cold drink after a ride. ‘You okay?’ she said to Kirra, an edge of concern in her voice. Her eyes ran over the various icepacks being held against Kirra’s limbs.

  ‘Keep those on for fifteen minutes,’ said Macey. ‘Then you can go.’

  ‘I need the loo,’ said Kirra, pulling herself out of the chair the moment Macey’s back was turned.

  ‘I need to find Jet,’ said Nat. ‘I left my hat in the car and he has the keys.’

  Kirra gladly split from Natalie. She hobbled straight past the loo block and out to the competitor’s carpark. There were horses tied everywhere and people walking in and out of trucks and horse floats.

  It didn’t take her long to find it: a four-wheel drive ute, towing a gooseneck horse trailer behind. Under the thick layer of red dirt on the door she could make out Rutherford Holdings.

  The ramp at the back was strewn with leather gear, ropes, horse rugs and hay bales. Three horses were tied to the sides. The guy from the ambo tent sat on the ramp with a phone in his hands, tapping at the screen. Kirra couldn’t see his face; it was buried under his hat. But when he finished his call and looked up, his gaze caught Kirra’s.

  He gave her a subtle smile that came mostly from his eyes. He was olive-skinned like Daniel, but she couldn’t see any tattoos. His free hand toyed with a bull rope as he sat on the ramp of the big truck. Kirra guessed he was at least five or six years older than Daniel.

  As she walked over, he pocketed his phone without taking his eyes off her.

  ‘Are you Daniel’s brother?’ she asked, standing at the foot of the ramp.

  His expression quickly changed. The playfulness left his face. He stood up and brushed his hands over his jeans. ‘Troy. Are you from Moorinja?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m Kirra. Kirra Ravel.’

  ‘Daniel’s friend?’ Troy stared at the phone in his hand. ‘Little twerp doesn’t talk to me for twelve months, then out of the blue rings and asks me a favour.’

  A voice erupted from the loudspeakers. ‘Good evening, ladies and gents, and welcome to the Roundup. First place in the junior steer ride is Kirra Ravel, followed by . . .’

  Troy raised his eyebrows. ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Daniel could really use a visit from his family,’ she said.

  The commentator’s voice interrupted again. ‘Stick around for the PBA bull ride, coming up next in the main arena.’

  Troy tucked the phone into his top pocket. ‘That’s my event. Good to meet you, Kirra,’ he said, ignoring her suggestion. He hopped off the ramp and took a pair of chaps that were hanging on a hook on the side of the truck.

  She watched him buckle them around his waist and pull at the zips up the back of his legs. That was it?

  ‘Why don’t you go see him?’ she persisted. ‘You know where he is.’

  Troy turned back and studied her for a while, really studied her, in that intense way Daniel did. And then his jaw went hard and his mouth twisted. He looked past her.

  Kirra followed his eyes across to the beer tent where a cluster of adolescent boys stood in a circle: the Blackbrae boys. Fire drums burned around them. In the yards nearby two bulls clashed, locking horns, and the yard men yelled. Music burst through the speakers and suddenly the place was alive with twanging guitars and crooning voices. Among them stood Jamie. He didn’t appear to be listening to any of them. His eyes were on her, glaring shafts of jealousy and bitterness.

  ‘What’s that guy’s problem?’ said Troy.

  ‘He’s one of the ringers from Moorinja,’ Kirra answered. ‘His problem is with me.’

  Troy muttered something she didn’t catch.

  ‘Is there going to be trouble?’ she asked.

  ‘Only if they start it,’ Troy answered. He reached past her, picked up a gear bag and slung it over his shoulder. He walked to the chutes and joined a throng of other riders.

  Kirra sank onto her bum on the ramp of the gooseneck and watched him disappear.

  ‘Where did you get to?’ Natalie complained as she appeared from behind another horse float, holding her hat in her hands. ‘I was looking everywhere for you.’ She ran her eyes over the truck. ‘Nice rig.’

  Kirra pulled herself up off the ramp. ‘He can shove his rig. Come on, let’s get my prize money and I’ll shout you a burger.’ She made her way towards a small caravan. Then with her wallet recharged, she led Nat to the food stands.

  There was a queue at the barbecue tent. Frozen onions sizzled and snapped onto the hotplate and sausages spluttered with fat as a tall, stooped man rolled them over with a set of tongs.

  ‘Two burgers with the lot, thanks.’ Kirra handed a twenty to the lady on the money tin. After a five-minute wait, she helped herself to sauce and joined Natalie at a wobbly-legged plastic table under a grove of trees.

  As she took a seat she saw Lisa sitting at another table. She was alone for mere seconds before Jamie took a seat next to her, handed her a drink and a food item wrapped in a paper serviette. She smiled up at him.

  Was he trying to make her jealous? Kirra pulled her sunnies down over her eyes. Whatever. She turned her head to face Natalie, but behind the façade of mirrored sunnies, she couldn’t help but flick an occasional glance to the other table.

  Two more people sat with Lisa and Jamie. Jarred and Nate Young were easy to pick as brothers. Jarred was fresh-faced, Nate had more jawline, a shadow of stubble and an angry field of acne on his cheeks. Their outlines, however, were almost the same: lean and wiry with stooped shoulders.

  ‘Don’t even look at them,’ said Natalie. ‘We’re lying low, remember? No trouble.’

  ‘No trouble,’ Kirra repeated obediently, and took a bite of her burger. It was so big she could hardly get her teeth around it. And it was good, dripping with meat juice and beetroot. But her eyes still roamed to the table opposite. Jamie’s full attention was on Lisa, smiling and laughing too loudly when she spoke.

  After finishing their food, Jamie stood, held out a hand and led Lisa to the bar and band area, where two guitarists sat on stools, singing country songs. Jamie twirled Lisa in a spin and started dancing with her. The pair of them disappeared behind other small groups of socialising people.

  ‘I can’t believe Jamie’s flirting with Daniel’s ex,’ said Natalie. ‘She’s horrible.’

  ‘Probably not without reason,’ said Kirra.

  ‘Jamie could do so much better.’

  ‘No, he couldn’t,’ said Kirra and couldn’t help a spiteful laugh.

  ‘You used to like him.’

  ‘That was before I found out he’s been holding out on me.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I reckon he knows who caused Daniel’s acc
ident: who put him behind bars.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘Just a few things he’s said,’ said Kirra, without going into detail. She had promised Daniel she wouldn’t tell a soul about Lisa.

  ‘He definitely seems to have a foot in both camps right now,’ said Nat, pointing to Jamie and Lisa, who were dancing closely in the nearby bar area. When the music ended, Jamie led Lisa out of another exit.

  ‘He’s taking her somewhere more quiet,’ giggled Nat. ‘Let’s go eavesdrop.’

  ‘I’d rather not,’ said Kirra. ‘That’s kind of pervy, don’t you think?’

  ‘I don’t want to see them kissing, ding dong,’ said Nat, ‘I want to hear what they say.’

  ‘I thought you said no trouble.’

  ‘I did, but I never said no fun.’

  Kirra reconsidered for a moment. She might overhear something about Daniel, something about the night of the accident. Slim chance, but why not give it a shot? ‘He’ll take her to his ute,’ said Kirra, getting up.

  ‘How do you know that?’ asked Nat.

  ‘It’s his modus operandi.’

  Nat stopped and put her hands on her hips. ‘Are you speaking from experience?’

  ‘Okay, so I kissed him more than once,’ Kirra admitted.

  ‘In his ute?’

  Kirra felt a guilty shade of red rush over her cheeks.

  ‘You’ve been holding out on me!’

  ‘It was a total fizzer,’ said Kirra. ‘Nothing to write home about.’

  ‘To Jamie’s ute,’ said Natalie, marching off into the car paddock by the lake.

  24

  They made their way through rows and rows of vehicles and found Jamie’s ute parked by the lake. A large moon rose in the evening sky, casting a long silvery reflection over the shimmering water.

  ‘I want to hear what they’re saying,’ whispered Nat, as she unclasped the tarp off the back of the ute and began crawling inside.

  ‘Are you crazy or just perverted?’ whispered Kirra.

  ‘Probably both,’ Nat giggled. ‘Come on!’ Her head disappeared under the tarp and her arms and legs wriggled in under after her.

  Kirra couldn’t help a chuckle. She cast one last glance around the paddock full of cars to check no one was watching. Nope. No one.

  Except Troy.

  His silhouette was unmistakeable, standing in the shadows next to a horse which was tied to his trailer. Shouldn’t he be riding a bull in the main arena?

  He turned, opened the side door of his gooseneck trailer and disappeared inside. When he didn’t reappear, Kirra wriggled under the tarp and wrestled for space with Nat.

  In the back, Jamie already had a swag rolled out among oily rags, tools, a leather saddle and some sweaty saddlecloths. Kirra could smell stale aftershave on Jamie’s pillow.

  ‘This is so wrong,’ she whispered, curling up and trying to get comfortable. The mattress wasn’t much more than a thin roll of rubber matting.

  ‘Shhh, they’re coming,’ hissed Nat.

  They both went silent as footsteps approached the ute. Kirra could hear her own breath whistling through her nose, and Lisa’s giggle. She recognised Jamie’s voice, laughing and talking about cattle and horses, and then it went quiet.

  Ugh, were they kissing? When she heard a soft murmur from Lisa, she squirmed. Oh lordy, they weren’t at the bonnet – they were centimetres away, against the back of the ute.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to do that,’ Jamie’s voice whispered.

  Kirra clamped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from squealing.

  More silence. Then the sticky smacking sound of kisses. Kirra was hit with the worst case of claustrophobia. She longed to break out and flee. This was just the worst!

  ‘I heard you were with that girl from Moorinja,’ said Lisa, between kissy noises.

  ‘Kirra?’ Jamie grunted. ‘She’s so not my type.’

  Kirra felt Nat nudge her, and she nudged back. What a dog!

  ‘So who is your type?’ asked Lisa coyly. There were more murmurs, giggles and sticky-smacky noises until Kirra felt like throwing up. How long would this torture go on for? Whose dumb idea was this? She felt like kicking Nat fair in the shin with her riding boots.

  ‘You know it’s always been you,’ murmured Jamie.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ whispered Lisa.

  Holy moly, what if they reached into the back for his swag? Jamie would chain them by the hocks in the slaughtering shed if he busted them. This was wayyy too close for comfort.

  ‘There’s a swag in the back,’ said Jamie.

  Oh, holy bed bugs, there was nowhere to hide! They were busted for sure. Kirra curled into an even tighter ball and put her hands over her head, sheltering in the old delusion that if she couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see her. She waited for the tarp to pull away above her.

  ‘Nah, let’s blow this joint,’ said Lisa. ‘That Kirra girl is here. I can’t stand being in the same square kilometre as her.’

  Kirra heard a door open, more kissing noises and then Jamie’s footsteps walking around to the driver’s side.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she hissed to Nat.

  ‘He’ll still see us! Just wait till he gets in the ute.’

  Jamie’s door slammed. Kirra sat up and started fumbling with the loops and hooks that held the tarp down, but she couldn’t manage to free them. The engine started. ‘How do we get out of here?’

  Natalie also fumbled with the tarp hooks. ‘I can’t get my hands outside,’ she whispered. The ute started to move.

  ‘Get out now,’ squealed Kirra.

  ‘I can’t,’ said Nat as the ute lurched into a higher gear. Its rear end swerved to one side, sending both girls sprawling to one side of the tray, then they were hurled across to the other as Jamie performed a few fishtails around the paddock.

  Kirra squealed some well-versed station curses as she tried to hold on. Her sore shoulder slammed against the hard pommel of a saddle and Natalie slammed into her bruised thigh. She stifled a scream of pain. Jamie drove his ute the same way he rode his motorbike – like a lunatic. ‘Hold on,’ she squeaked to Nat, although she couldn’t find anything to grab hold of. She knew what would come next.

  The ute revved loudly, lurched forward and then Nat and Kirra were thrown to one side as Jamie hauled up the handbrake and sent the ute into a dust-billowing doughnut around the cow paddock. Lisa screamed with laughter in the front cabin. People hooted from the campdraft arena.

  And then the ute crunched gears and straightened out. It sped off over the bumpy paddock, making everything in the back of the ute bounce and clatter, including Kirra and Natalie. From the front, Kirra heard the tinny strains of a Keith Urban song floating through the stereo. They were leaving, in a blaze of dust and glory and scrambled tools and saddlery.

  ‘We should bang on the back window and get them to stop,’ said Nat in a hushed voice.

  ‘No way,’ said Kirra. ‘We’ll wait till they stop at the top of the driveway, then we’ll get out. Let’s get the cover undone so we can leap out quickly.’

  With less panic to rattle them, the girls managed to get every second loop undone. When Jamie slowed down to turn at the road, they could undo a couple more and sneak out. Kirra hoped he would stop properly. And then she remembered who she was dealing with. Jamie was more likely to do a giant handbrakey around the intersection, followed by more fishtails.

  Ten minutes of bumping later, when she felt the ute drop a gear, and heard the throaty revs of the engine, she realised she was right. ‘Hold on,’ she said to Nat, preparing for the ute to launch to the right. Instead it fishtailed out to the left with a gravel-crunching roar. Everything hurled to the side of the ute and landed on top of them.

  ‘Where’s he going?’ said Kirra, pushing the saddle off her. ‘He was supposed to turn right.’

  ‘He was supposed to stop,’ growled Nat.

  ‘Hey, this was your idea of fun, not mine,’ said Kirr
a.

  ‘That was before I knew we’d be going to Blackbrae,’ snapped Nat.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, where else would we be going?’ said Nat. ‘Moorinja is in the other direction. Blackbrae’s where Lisa lives, isn’t it?’

  ‘How are we going to get home from there?’ said Kirra, panic-struck.

  ‘We have to bang on the window, make them stop.’

  ‘Actually . . . no,’ said Kirra, rethinking things. ‘Let’s see what these two get up to.’

  ‘You are sick!’ squealed Nat.

  ‘No, not like that!’ she hissed. ‘I don’t trust these two as far as I can throw them!’

  ‘Kirra, you saw how hostile those guys were at the last rodeo, and when they showed up at Moorinja. We can’t go there, it’s dangerous.’

  ‘They won’t be there, they’ll all be at the roundup for the night.’

  Before they’d finished arguing the ute slowed and turned. ‘Now where are we going?’ said Nat.

  Kirra peered out through a slit in the tarp as a road sign flew by. ‘Into the state forest?’ Behind the ute, the road stretched for eternity. There was no other traffic except for a solitary set of square headlights a long way back.

  ‘Oh, perfect,’ said Nat. ‘Maybe we’ll bump into an axe murderer while we’re here. Kirra, I’m really freaked out.’

  ‘Me too.’ The ute began to climb a steep hill and Kirra felt it slow and lean through hairpin bends, one way and then the other. ‘They’re going to the lookout.’

  ‘How romantic,’ said Nat in a droll voice. ‘Unless he pushes her off the top.’

  ‘Oh, stop it,’ said Kirra. ‘Jamie’s not like that.’

  ‘You don’t know what Jamie’s like, Kirra.’

  ‘You’re the one who thought he’d make such a great boyfriend.’

  ‘That’s before I knew he was a two-faced, axewielding cliff-pusher. I want to get out.’

  ‘Here in the middle of nowhere?’ said Kirra. ‘I don’t think that would be smart. We’ll have to sit tight.’

  It was more than ten minutes before the ute slowed to a brief stop. The engine kept running and then the ute did a U-turn and started going downhill again.

  ‘I feel carsick,’ said Nat.