Diamond Spirit (23 page)

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Authors: Karen Wood

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BOOK: Diamond Spirit
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‘He’s a tough old fella,’ said Luke, as though trying to convince himself as much as Jess. He looked up and tried to smile. ‘Take more than that to knock him around.’

‘Wouldn’t he leave you Legsy?’

‘Lawson’s blood, Ryan’s adopted, I’m fostered,’ he said, explaining the hierarchy again. ‘There’ll be enough fighting over Biyanga without me putting my hand up for Legsy.’

Jess was stunned. ‘So Lawson’s going to get
both
our horses?’

‘Lawson’s all right,’ said Luke. ‘He’s pretty good with his own horses. Doesn’t fuss over them much, but he’s fair.’

‘He won’t care about them the way we do, you know he won’t.’

‘Maybe not,’ Luke shrugged. ‘Maybe yes, but in a different way. Harry reckons he was nuts about that horse, Dusty. He’s pretty fussy about what happens to Marnie, too.’

‘He wasn’t too happy about her getting pregnant.’ Jess couldn’t help but giggle.

Luke grinned. ‘He freaked.’

Jess thought of Muscles grunting over Marnie, and the min min lights dancing around her belly while she nibbled on mulga seeds. Suddenly her heart skipped a beat.

‘Oh, Luke!’ She stood up. ‘
Luke!
’ ‘What?’ He looked at her as though she’d gone kooky.

‘The lights! The three white lights!’

‘The min min lights?’

‘Bob said they were ghosts!’

‘Thought you said they were just gas balls?’

‘Do
you
reckon they were gas balls?’

‘I reckon they were weird.’

‘Diamond got her name because she had three silver diamonds on her rump. When the three lights were circling around me I thought it was her, giving me a message, telling me I would win the campdraft.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, I know, that didn’t happen.’

‘So?’

She lowered her voice. ‘Do you reckon they could have been Diamond’s spirit? Her ghost? They disappeared into Marnie’s belly –
while she was eating mulga seeds!

‘Mulga seeds?’

‘I planted mulga seeds on Diamond’s grave! My auntie sent them to me,’ Jess grinned at him, ‘from Longwood!’

Luke looked totally baffled.

‘Reckon Lawson would sell me Marnie’s foal?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because the vet’s coming this morning to give her a needle.’

‘Oh my God, I have to stop him!’

She tore her phone from her pocket.

‘Lawson!’

‘Jess. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?’

‘Yes – well, no . . . well, kind of. Has the vet been yet?’

‘He’s here now. Why?’

‘Don’t do it. I want the foal. Can I buy the foal?’ She paused. ‘Please?’

‘I don’t even know if she’s pregnant. She’s getting a needle just in case.’

‘Lawson, please don’t give her that needle. It’s the min min!’

‘What are you on about now?’

‘Diamond got her name because she had three silver diamonds on her rump. There were three min mins, that night at Longwood. They disappeared into Marnie’s belly, while she was eating mulga seeds!’

‘What?’

‘I planted mulga seeds on Diamond’s grave! They were from Longwood!’

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Jess imagined the faces he was pulling.

‘Are you back on that totem trip again?’

‘Umm,’ Jess thought about it. She was, she definitely was. ‘Yes,’ she said.

‘Girls and bloody horses,’ she heard him groan. ‘Jess, I don’t know what you’re on about, but you shouldn’t go getting all excited about something that may not have happened. I don’t even know if she’s really pregnant.’

‘She is. I
know
she is. I have two hundred and forty-six dollars. I’ll buy the foal from you.’

‘Oh, forget it. She’s my good mare,’ said Lawson. ‘If she had a foal, it’d put her out of action for eleven months. Plus another six months until the foal is weaned.’

‘You can still ride her for about six or seven months, so it would really only be about a year,’ she corrected him. ‘Less, even.’

‘Nup,’ said Lawson.

‘Well, I’ll just have to sell Dodger and buy Walkabout, then. You promised me first option, remember.’

‘Yeah, but— but . . .’ Lawson stammered. ‘This is crazy. Are you blackmailing me?’

‘Not really,’ she grinned. ‘I’m doing you a favour. You get your once-in-a-lifetime horse and I get mine.’

Lawson gave a defeatist sigh. ‘I’ll get the mare tested.’

When she snapped her phone shut, she noticed Luke staring at her. ‘What?’ She couldn’t get the smile off her face.

‘You just got a foal out of Marnie for two hundred bucks?’

‘Ahuh.’

‘Can you ring him back and ask if I can have Legsy for two hundred bucks?’

She shoved him on the shoulder. ‘Don’t be silly.’

29

JESS HALTERED THE MARE
and led her through the gate with Wally frolicking behind. Part of the agreement with Lawson was that she could do all the handling and training until Wally was broken in, and to Jess’s way of thinking that included delivering her to his place.

Luke held the gate open for her.

‘Watch out for the min mins,’ he called, as she led the mare out onto the river flats and then a well-worn track.

She laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I will!’

She wasn’t far along the river flats when she heard a loud ‘
Coo–ee!


Coo–ee!
’ she called back.

Shara trotted Rocko out from a track running alongside the river and waved. Jess waited for her to get closer and then held out an arm and vaulted onto Rocko’s back. With one hand on Shara’s waist and the other on the mare’s lead, they set off across the flats with Wally following close behind.

They rode along the open flats where the tree-lined river wove through the valley. Some sections of the river flowed slowly and serenely and in other places it rushed through narrow, choking channels. As it meandered back and forth across the flats, the girls crossed through the water, travelling under the trees where it was cool and shady for long stretches.

They stood and let the horses drink, while the dogs rolled about in the sandy patches and lay on their bellies in the cool water, panting happily. Jess closed her eyes and let the trickling sounds of the river flow over her. For a brief moment Rocko was still. She sat there with her eyes closed, with her best friend, listening to the river. A warm puff of air, like the breath of a sleepy horse, ran up the back of her neck.

Hey, Diamond.

‘Here come Rosie and Grace!’ said Shara.

In the trees along the river, the sound of Rosie and Grace arguing became louder and louder.

‘What is
with
those two?’ asked Shara.

‘Sisters always fight,’ said Jess. ‘Didn’t you know that?’

Shara grinned. ‘So do besties.’

Jess grinned back. ‘Especially best besties.’

‘We just rode past Lawson’s place,’ said Grace, as she drew up on a chestnut horse Jess had never seen before.

‘He said to tell you his mare is pregnant,’ said Rosie.

Jess grinned. ‘Thought she might be.’

The two sisters looked at her, puzzled.

‘Tell you later,’ said Jess, fizzing with happiness.

The four girls continued along the river, ducking under branches, jumping over fallen trees and splashing through the water. They cantered across the flats, past the old sawmill and along Slaughtering Creek, where the old cattle grid hid slyly beneath the long grass. They thundered past the Pettilows’ place, where Chelpie grazed peacefully, looking impossibly beautiful. The little white mare didn’t look up, and for once none of the horses spooked or shied.

‘You’re a mystery, Chelpie,’ Jess said out loud. ‘What is it about you?’

When they got to Lawson’s place, Jess unbuckled the mare’s halter and let her out into the big paddock. Wally trotted alongside her mother for a few strides, then back to Jess, giving her a gentle shove with her nose.

‘It’s okay, little one, you go and make some new friends. I’ll come back and see you tomorrow.’

She watched Wally and her mum sniff the ground and wander into their new surroundings. Then she scanned the paddock, looking for Marnie.

Where is she?

Three other mares stood under a big old mango tree, swishing their tails at the flies. They lifted their heads towards the newcomers. A short way off, Marnie grazed contentedly.

And I’ll be back to see you too.

A
cknowledgements

Sincere thanks to Tex Skuthorpe and Anne Morrill
for your advice.

Thanks also to my Dad, for your help
and encouragement.

And thanks to my favourite farrier, Pete Salter,
for helping me fix Dodger’s foot!

About the Author

KAREN WOOD
has been involved with horses for more than twenty years. After owning many horses, she has finally found her once-in-a-lifetime horse in a little chestnut stockhorse called Reo. Karen has an Arts degree majoring in communications and a diploma in horticulture. She has syndicated a gardening column in several newspapers throughout Australia, has published feature articles in various magazines and has published photographs in bushwalking guides. She is married with two children and lives on the Central Coast, New South Wales.

A SNEAK PREVIEW

OF THE SECOND BOOK IN THE DI AMOND SPIRIT SERIES

‘LAST ONE! ’
yelled Tom, as he sent a bale of prime lucerne tumbling off the back of the semitrailer.

Luke let it fall to the ground end-first. It bounced, then toppled onto its side with a thud. He stabbed his hay hooks into it and with one last surge of energy heaved it up to the top of the stack, where Lawson was arranging the bales tightly in a crisscross pattern.

‘That it?’ yelled Lawson.

‘Yep,’ Luke shouted back, hanging the hooks onto the beam that ran along the wall of the shed. He was dripping with sweat, itchy from the tiny stalks and dust, and his muscles ached, but he felt great. ‘That oughta keep their bellies full for a while,’ he said, looking up at the mountain of hay.

Lawson scrambled down the side of the stack like a mountain goat and brushed the loose green leaves from the front of his shirt. ‘Eight hundred bales. I’m knackered!’

‘Chuck us the water bottle, Luke.’ Tom let himself down onto the edge of the empty trailer and sat with his legs hanging over.

Luke tossed a bottle to him, and looked around for a broom. He swept the loose hay into a pile, then leaned on the rake while he looked around the hay shed.

It had taken the three of them all weekend to empty it out for the hay. There’d been stacks of old tyres, drums of diesel, old snigging chains and the skeletal remains of a vintage car. Beneath that they’d found rags, dead mice and mounds of composted God-only-knew-what. They’d salvaged anything worthy, taken the rest to the tip, shovelled up the rotting remains and pressure-hosed the concrete floor. In its place stood the proud castle of leafy green lucerne, enough to last the winter.

Luke got back to sweeping. The sooner he could get this cleaned up, the sooner he could go and find Harry. The old man had been looking brighter this morning. He might even come and do the afternoon feeds. There was a tonne of things Luke wanted Harry to look at down the paddock. He wanted to show him that filly’s leg and ask what he wanted done with the western fence.

‘Hey, Luke!’ Tom’s yell from outside stopped him in his tracks. ‘Luke, quick! The stallion’s out!’

Luke dropped the broom and ran around the side of the truck. He’d been the last person to go into Biyanga’s yard, but couldn’t have left the gate unlatched; he was meticulous about that sort of thing. He stopped and glanced around quickly for Harry’s good stallion.

Everything was at peace. The mares were grazing, Grunter the pig snuffled at a leaky water trough and chooks pecked busily beneath feed bins. All seemed to be as it should at Harry’s place. So what was Tom talking about?

Luke looked up towards the stables and a blast of water hit him with so much force it nearly knocked him over. His arms flew up to shield his face and he stumbled backwards, coughing and spluttering while the jets of water hammered him all over.

Tom screamed with laughter and kept blasting him.

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