Diamond Spirit

by Karen Wood

  She spent all week lying low and trying to concoct a genuine-sounding apology for Mr Donaldson. At home, she tried to win brownie points by helping with the washing, doing the dishes at the first request rather than the fifth, and by cleaning the bathroom and toilet unasked. She was willing to lower herself to any level to get to that draft. But every time she asked if she was allowed to go, Craig said, ‘I haven’t decided yet.’ He was milking her for all the housework he could get, she was sure.

  Friday finally came and Craig drove her to Mr Donaldson’s farm after school. She had never met him before and wasn’t at all sure what to expect. As it turned out, he was in his nineties and seemed confused about exactly who she was and why she was talking about his cattle. When the conversation became a labyrinth of twisted and confused communication, Jess figured she’d done her bit and left him scratching his head outside his front door. She ran back down the driveway to her father, who was waiting in the car.

  ‘Manage to redeem yourself?’ asked Craig in a stern voice.

  Jess pulled a confused face and put her arms in the air. ‘Who knows? He’s a day older than God. I couldn’t understand a word he said!’

  Craig looked concerned.

  Jess backtracked quickly. ‘Yes! Yes! He’s cool with everything! He’s fine – I told you he would be!’

  Her dad seemed to relax a little.

  ‘Can I have a lift down to Harry’s place now?’ She was absolutely busting to see Wally and catch up with her friends.

  ‘Yes, I want to meet these people and find out more about this campdraft,’ answered her father.

  Craig introduced himself to Harry and, like Jess, was made to feel instantly welcome. There was much handshaking and nodding and talk about tractors and rain. When Harry discovered Craig was a tree-changing ex-accountant and Craig found out Harry was a retired diesel mechanic, they soon realised there was some handy bartering to be done.

  ‘He’s a sensible bloke,’ Craig commented in the car on the way home. ‘Seems to know a bit about tractors. He’s going to have a go at fixing the PTO on ours. I’ll help him with his books in return.’ He looked chuffed.

  ‘Is he sensible enough to take me to the draft?’ asked Jess.

  Craig cuffed her on the head. ‘Well, what sort of a dad would I be if I didn’t let you at least have a shot at it?’

  19

  SCHOOL WASN’T TOO BAD, even without Shara’s close friendship. Jess found her biology classes quite interesting, and was thrilled when her teacher let her choose horse genetics as her topic for the major project.

  Katrina Pettilow chose the same topic. ‘I need to study up on genetics for when I go to Canningdale College,’ Jess overheard her telling Tegan in the library. ‘It’s very relevant to the animal science I’ll be studying there.’

  ‘In your dreams,’ Jess muttered as she walked past.

  Katrina looked up and glared at her. ‘Luckily my parents can afford to send me and I won’t have to beg my way in like some people.’

  ‘Winning a scholarship is hardly begging,’ said Jess, assuming she was talking about Shara. ‘And anyway, it’s still selective.’

  And who’d select you?

  ‘Defending her now, are you?’ Katrina retorted.

  Jess refused to bite. ‘Why aren’t you there now if you’re so cashed up?’

  ‘They don’t start vet science till Year Ten, der,’ said Katrina, ‘and then, who knows, maybe I’ll make a new best friend there!’

  Jess burst out laughing. ‘I doubt it.’ The idea of Katrina and Shara getting chummy was ludicrous.

  For the next few weeks, Jess was driven to study hard and get a higher mark than Katrina. She got lost for hours on the internet reading about different spotting genes in Appaloosa horses. Her new-found study ethic seemed to earn good brownie points with her dad and Jess came to a good working arrangement with him. She could keep Dodger at Harry’s place and train for the campdraft after school if she promised to do her homework first thing in the morning. She found it much easier to wake up early and focus on her studies when she knew that Dodger had been trained the evening before.

  In the afternoons, she would jump off the school bus near Harry’s place. Tom was often on the same bus, and they would run down to Harry’s together. Once there, she would usually find Luke closing a gate behind a yard of cattle. Grace and Rosie would be in the tackroom, ripping off their school uniforms and wriggling into their jeans.

  Katrina would often float around the arena on Chelpie, looking like Princess Perfect, but she rarely had a go at drafting. When she did, it was disastrous. Chelpie rushed at the cattle with her ears flat back and bit them. In the yard, the little mare became so aggressive that the cows nearly jumped out of it. Tegan’s pony was frightened of the cattle and way too small to be campdrafting. Harry quickly banned both of them from working any cattle. Jess couldn’t imagine how either of them would ever ride in the draft.

  Craig came to pick her up from Harry’s each afternoon and often turned up early. Jess loved having him watch her ride Dodger for a while before they drove home. He constantly told her how proud he was of her and how well she was riding, but she sensed that he still doubted her chances of winning. Jess couldn’t wait to show him how Dodger handled cattle. He’d soon change his thinking.

  A week before the draft, she got her opportunity. Harry invited her to a special practice session at his place. As was the way with campdrafting, many hands were needed to bring in the cattle and to work the gates, so unfortunately, this included not just Lawson, but Katrina and Tegan as well, who Harry had promised could try chasing cattle under more controlled conditions.

  On the night, Jess cantered Dodger under the floodlights. The darkness made big black curtains around the arena, and it was weird riding with the sound of crickets chirruping in the background.

  Dodger was now a ball of muscle. Jess had clipped off his mane and combed out his shaggy forelock, giving him what she thought was a rather noble appearance. The masculine look suited him. In any case, she was learning that a pretty horse had little standing in the world of campdrafting. It was all about performance – spins, sliding stops, rollbacks and lead changes, and above all else, cow sense. She reined Dodger to a stop and then trotted him on again to get his full attention.

  Nearby, Lawson cantered on a thickset chestnut gelding, spinning it in tight circles and then spurring it off in the other direction. Jess couldn’t help noticing that he occasionally glanced at her. When he did, she spun away, not wanting to look at him. He gave her the creeps.

  Grace and Rosie were in the yards with the cattle. She could see her father with Harry and Stanley Arnold, each sitting on a bucket. Harry chewed his toothpick, Stanley turned his hat around in his hands and Craig sipped from a thermos of hot coffee.

  They all stared in her direction, and she did a quick rollback.

  Her dad was talking about her, Jess was sure, asking them if she had any chance of winning the draft. She’d show him!

  As she changed direction, she nearly ran into Lawson. He walked his horse straight at her and held up a hand.

  ‘Jessica Fairley, isn’t it?’

  She spun away, pretending not to hear him. Creep!

  Lawson followed her. ‘You’re that kid who was down on the river flats.’

  Jess rode on. Now Lawson was really weirding her out.

  ‘It wasn’t you, okay,’ he said, pulling his horse to a halt.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ said Jess, pushing Dodger into a canter. She had no idea what he was talking about and she wasn’t interested.

  To her relief, Lawson shrugged, rode away to the other end of the arena and continued working his horse. Jess brought Dodger back to a walk and gave him a rest for a while.

  Katrina entered the arena. She began working Chelpie in a collected walk, and quickly progressed to shoulder-in and half-pass. Breaking into a canter, Chelpie began circling the arena like a little white rocking horse. Katrina looked completely faultless, si
tting beautifully in the saddle and riding with gloved hands and an elegant dressage whip. Jess became grudgingly mesmerised.

  As Katrina passed Lawson, Chelpie let fly with a hind leg, lashing out at Lawson’s horse. The movement was so quick and agile that Chelpie barely broke her rhythm, but the gelding lurched sideways and nearly tipped Lawson out of the saddle.

  Caught by surprise, Lawson gathered the reins and gave his horse a kick in the ribs. ‘Cut it out,’ he growled.

  Lawson kept cantering his horse around the edge of the arena. Chelpie cantered past without missing a beat. Then Katrina changed direction and cantered up behind him. Chelpie lunged at his horse’s rump with her teeth bared. The gelding clamped its tail down and skittled sideways.

  This time Lawson did notice. He spun around and glared at Katrina. ‘You wanna get a bloody handle on that horse.’

  Katrina scowled at him, brought Chelpie under control and pushed her back into a canter.

  Lawson continued working his gelding. White froth dripped from its mouth and its nostrils blew hard. Jess noticed him glance over at the other men periodically. When he realised he had their attention, he spun the horse at the far end of the arena and pushed it into a gallop back up the long side. As he neared the fence, he slammed on the skids so hard that the gelding’s hooves sent gravel and stones spraying through the fence at Harry, Stanley and Craig. They jumped back and screened their faces with their arms.

  ‘Lawson!’ yelled Harry. ‘What are you doing?’

  Lawson sat on the puffing horse and laughed. ‘You blokes gonna sit there lolly-gagging like old women, or are you gonna come and move some cattle?’

  He spun the horse on its heel and trotted off. As the gelding neared Chelpie, it started baulking. ‘Get up,’ he growled. He kicked his horse up and made it canter past.

  Jess walked Dodger over to the fence near the men and watched on.

  Whenever Chelpie went near Lawson’s horse, it stopped and hunched its back, refusing to go forward.

  ‘What’s wrong with you today?’ Lawson growled. He turned the horse around in a tight circle and then forced it to face up to Chelpie. The horse tried to escape by spinning sideways, but was blocked again by Lawson’s pull on the reins and had no place left to go but up. It reared on its hind legs and paddled wildly with its front hooves.

  Lawson was quick to respond, pulling heavily on the reins and setting his weight against the animal. It tumbled over backwards. Lawson jumped off and landed on his feet like a cat while the gelding came crashing down on its back, legs flailing in the air. As its head hit the ground, he leapt on its neck and pinned it down with one knee. It lay frozen, eyes rolling, nostrils blowing.

  Harry’s face hardened. Behind him a tall young man with red hair spoke. ‘Well, that was impressive.’

  Harry spun around. ‘Geez, Ryan! What are you doing here?’

  ‘Came to draft some cattle with you. Didn’t think I’d see that, though,’ Ryan said in a loud voice.

  Lawson stepped off the horse’s neck and let it struggle to its feet. ‘You work your horses, Ryan, and I’ll work mine.’ He gathered his reins, put a foot in a stirrup and gave a couple of hops, ready to jump back into the saddle.

  Ryan slid through the railings. ‘Don’t you think it’s had enough?’ he said to Lawson. ‘Poor thing might collapse in front of everyone!’

  ‘Get out of there, Ryan,’ Harry called.

  Ryan didn’t seem to hear him. He grabbed the gelding by the bit.

  Lawson put both feet back on the ground and turned to Ryan with a suddenly thunderous face. ‘Get your hands off my horse,’ he said through his teeth.

  ‘Oh, give the poor thing a break,’ said Ryan in a strangely jovial voice.

  ‘I’ll give you a break,’ snarled Lawson, as he brushed Ryan’s hand off the bit.

  ‘Hey, come on, you two,’ said Harry, standing up. ‘Ryan, I’ve told you not to come around here when you’ve been drinking.’

  Ryan took hold of the horse’s bit again and stared Lawson in the eye. The gelding snorted and, sensing the tension between the two men, began dancing on the spot, wanting to get away.

  ‘You heard what he said, back off,’ said Lawson, squaring his shoulders and taking a step towards Ryan.

  The gelding, no longer able to contain itself, pulled away, reefing the reins from both men and galloping to the other side of the arena.

  ‘Or what?’ said Ryan.

  ‘Hey, come on, you blokes,’ said Harry, raising his voice. ‘If you two wanna carry on, then take it off my property.’

  The two men took a step apart, but their eyes remained locked, neither willing to back down. Eventually, Ryan turned away and pulled himself through the fence. ‘I’ll leave you to your little party,’ he said, dusting off his hat and giving his stepfather a nod.

  Harry nodded but his eyes betrayed disappointment. He watched Ryan walk back to his truck.

  ‘You wanna grab a coffee up at the house and make sure you’re under the limit,’ Harry called after him. ‘You’ve got horses on board.’

  Ryan waved a dismissive arm at him and slammed the door of his truck.

  Jess walked Dodger over to the trembling gelding. ‘Come on, fella,’ she said softly, reaching for his reins. ‘Come and walk with Dodger, he’ll look after you.’ She managed to get the reins over his head and lead him away.

  Lawson marched towards Jess and held out his hands for the reins. She promptly handed them over. Then she watched as Lawson left the arena, Ryan drove out the driveway, and Harry marched back to the house. She slumped in her saddle. The practice draft seemed over before it had begun.

  ‘You’re not going too, are you?’ said a voice behind her. It was Luke.

  ‘But Harry’s gone. Everyone’s leaving,’ she said. ‘What was that all about?’

  ‘There’s always trouble when Ryan comes home,’ said Luke. ‘I try to stay out of it.’

  ‘Lawson is just so horrible.’

  ‘Ryan’s not the best, either.’

  ‘So, are you one of their brothers too?’ Jess asked, trying to work out this strange family.

  ‘Lawson’s Harry’s son – he’s blood. Ryan is Annie’s son. Harry adopted him. And I’m fostered,’ said Luke shortly. ‘As long as we all remember who’s top dog, there’s usually no problem.’

  Jess watched Lawson and his horse disappear into the stables. No doubt, he was the top dog.

  ‘Come on,’ Luke urged. ‘Don’t let them ruin it for us.’

  ‘Do you think Harry will still take us to the draft?’

  ‘Yeah, it’d take more than that to keep Harry away from a draft. Come on, I don’t reckon he’ll mind if we still work some cattle.’

  ‘It’ll be better without them here, anyway,’ said Grace, riding past on Handbrake and letting herself into the yards.

  Jess spent the evening perfecting her cut-out. Grace let a dozen or so cows into a large yard, which they called ‘the camp’. Luke sat up on the rails and coached Jess, giving all sorts of advice about choosing a good beast, cutting it out from the mob and pushing it down towards the gates.

  Tom stood behind the double gates and, when Jess had the beast cut and under control, he swung them open and let her out into the arena. He had plenty of good advice too, but Jess found the best teacher of all was Dodger. He just seemed to know exactly which cow she was after and wasted no time cutting it out. He pounced back and forth so quickly she sometimes had trouble staying in the saddle.

  Her friends all took it in turns to practise their cutouts, and then they set up a course of pegs in the big arena and galloped after the cattle. Stanley and Craig let each cow out of the arena after they’d had a run and chased them back down the laneway to the paddock.

  By the end of the night, Jess was feeling charged. She and Dodger were drafting as well as any of her friends, if not better. As she washed him off and rugged him up for the night, she took a moment to scratch his cheeks and give him a cuddle. ‘Shara was right abou
t you. You’re an absolute sweetie.’ She ignored the pang in her gut that thoughts of Shara always brought, and focused on the campdraft. As she led Dodger out to his paddock, she felt her confidence rising. She had a chance of winning, she was sure. She thought of Wally and imagined how the little filly would look grazing next to Dodger in the paddocks at home.

  20

  ‘WHAT ABOUT this pair, Jessy?’

  Jess poked her head out of the change room and saw Caroline holding up a pair of jeans, admiring them. ‘Mum, they’re pink.’

  Caroline fingered the tag and turned it over, reading the label. ‘Actually, they’re watermelon. I used to have a pair of flares in exactly the same colour. Only in those days it was called flamingo.’

  ‘They’re for rodeos, Mum.’

  ‘Isn’t that what you’re going to? I thought you were rounding up cows?’

  ‘No, it’s a campdraft! I’ll look like a ninny in those,’ Jess said, retreating behind the curtain.

  Then Caroline called out, ‘Oh, Jessy! Look at that hat!’

  Jess looked out again. Her mother was staring at a mannequin wearing fringed chaps and a red ten-gallon hat with a band of silver sequins around the base and two yellow feathers jutting out the side. It was the most obscene thing Jess had ever laid eyes on. ‘Thanks, but I already have my Akubra that you gave me for Christmas. It’s perfect.’

  Thank God.

  ‘I was thinking more for myself,’ said Caroline. She took the hat from the mannequin’s head and walked to a long mirror near the change rooms. ‘Oh, it’s so fabulous! You know how some things jump out at you and you just have to have them?’

  Jess came out of her change room in stiffly ironed dark blue jeans with a set of paper tags hanging from the belt loop. She bent her knees a couple of times and pulled at the waistband. ‘These feel pretty good.’

  Then she looked up and saw her mother, who was still admiring the red hat in the mirror. ‘You are not wearing that to the campdraft, Mum. You’ll frighten the cattle!’