Diamond Spirit Read online

  Jess tried to tune out.

  I thought they used quiet old dairy cattle for the juniors.

  When the boy had clearly lost control of his beast, the judge’s whip split the air, disqualifying him. The stockman opened the gates to let him out and three steers escaped after him.

  ‘At least that got rid of a few jumpy ones,’ said the girl next to her. ‘Glad you’re on next and not me.’

  Jess forced a smile which she hoped exuded confidence and experience. On the microphone she heard the announcer introducing herself and Dodger.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this next horse has seen a cattleyard or two. He’s by a local stallion called Rough Nut, and I guarantee he’ll give any beast a run for its money. Originally owned and bred by the Hayward family on Triple Bar Stud, he’s been carting juniors around the drafts for nigh on twenty years. He’s a pocket dynamo, this one, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s see what he can do today!’

  Jess listened in astonishment. The announcer knew more about Dodger than she did.

  A stockman ushered her inside the small pen, where a dozen or so rangy beasts stared at her with goggle eyes. People were perched along the rails in boots and broad-brimmed hats, watching her.

  In the distance, a judge sashed a brilliant white horse with a blue ribbon.

  Don’t even think about her.

  In the stands, a red hat stood out amid rows of brown Akubras. Both Caroline and Craig were waving madly.

  Stay focused. Find a good beast, just peel it off the edge of the mob and call for the gate.

  A tall Aboriginal stockman in a big black hat walked up to her. ‘Bin a while since them cattle have been handled,’ he said. ‘You wanna give them some time to settle.’

  Jess nodded. She couldn’t agree more. The cattle were agitated and twitchy, and bellowed whenever she moved. Too soon, the judged called for her to start. She had ten seconds to begin.

  A deep red steer with big shoulders broke away from the mob, rushing down the side fence. It wasn’t the kind of animal she was looking for, but she took her chance, slipping Dodger in behind it and placing herself between it and the mob.

  This is for you, Wally.

  The steer darted to the end of the yard and, finding itself alone, did an about-face and bolted back towards the others. Dodger shot out from under Jess and galloped into its path. The beast slid to a stop. It broke away to the right. Jess grabbed the front of her saddle as Dodger spun away again. He galloped three strides to the fence and slammed to a halt with a jolt that made her wince, but she managed to rein him back to the centre of the yard.

  Jess held the saddle tight and sat deep. She could barely keep up with Dodger’s rushes from side to side. Fortunately, neither could the beast. It gave up, ran to the front of the yard and slammed up against the gates, bellowing loudly and swishing its tail. From somewhere, she could hear whistles and a dull roar.

  ‘Gate!’ she yelled to the gate men. They swung them open, and the beast whooshed out of the yard into the main arena as though it were being sucked into a black hole. Dodger leapt after it. His hooves thundered over the freshly ploughed ground. He flew up behind on the tail of the beast. Jess brought him up onto the steer’s shoulder at a full gallop. Dodger leaned heavily and pushed it around the first peg in a wide loop.

  She wrestled Dodger back behind the beast for the crossover.

  Without warning, the steer stopped abruptly and she and Dodger went flying by. Dodger hit the skids. He ducked back to the beast and took control again. It headed towards the second peg at a slightly slower pace, and Dodger settled comfortably on its shoulder, bringing it around in an easy loop. They headed for the final gate.

  This is it; we’re going to make it . . .

  Abruptly, the rhythm in Dodger’s stride broke. He paddled wildly as he tried to regain balance. Jess lurched out of the saddle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and closed her eyes tight, waiting for the earth to swallow them up. She felt a bump and Dodger skidded to a stop, grinding a long smooth channel into the ploughed earth.

  She looked down and saw a mangled horseshoe hanging from the side of Dodger’s hoof. As two stockmen galloped out to her, she slipped off his neck and onto the ground.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said to the men, and bent down to pick up Dodger’s foot. A large piece of hoof had been ripped away with the shoe. One of the stockmen jumped off his horse and helped to remove it, pulling carefully so as not to cause any further damage.

  ‘Better get a farrier onto that foot, love,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It’ll take some artwork to get a shoe back on that.’ Then he pointed at the finish flag next to her. ‘By geez, you just made that by the skin of your teeth.’

  ‘Did I finish?’ asked Jess, unsure if she had blown it or not.

  ‘Judge called an eighty-two,’ he said, giving her a nod of approval. ‘That oughta put you in the finals tomorrow. That’s if you can get that hoof fixed. Lawson Blake is on the ground. If anyone can fix that mess, it’s him. He could put shoes on a mosquito.’

  Lawson Blake? He’s not touching my horse!

  Jess led Dodger from the arena, relieved to find he was not lame. His hoof, however, was a mess. There was no way she could ride him in the second round without a new shoe.

  At the truck, she pulled her saddle off and rubbed Dodger down with an old towel.

  Harry limped over to congratulate her. ‘Great round, Jess. Well done. Eighty-two is a darn good score for your first go.’

  But Jess was far from happy. She held up the mangled shoe. ‘Look at his foot, Harry. It’s a mess.’

  ‘Is that what happened?’ Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘I saw him have a bit of a stumble at the end of the round. I thought he just lost his footing.’

  ‘He ripped off the shoe with his back foot. He must have overreached.’

  Harry ran a hand down Dodger’s leg and picked up his foot. He let out a breezy whistle. ‘You’ve done a job on that, haven’t ya, fella!’ He dropped the foot and gave the horse a slap on the neck. ‘You wanna get Lawson to look at that. He could put shoes on a mosquito.’

  Some sort of local saying?

  Jess felt her heart run down into her boots. ‘I know he’s your son, Harry, but I really don’t want to ask him.’

  ‘You’ll find he’s not such a bad bloke, Jess. He’s your only hope at this stage.’

  Jess sighed and gave Dodger a pat. He was frothy with sweat and needed a good hose down and a drink. So did she. The day was growing hotter and a westerly wind had come up. Dust blew through the air, drying Jess’s throat and scratching at her eyes. She led Dodger to the horse wash and filled a bucket. The water was deliciously cool and she was tempted to stick her whole head into it.

  Suddenly she felt a sharp push on the back of her legs and her knees buckled. She spun around. A familiar slobbering dog grinned at her.

  ‘Hex!’ said Jess in astonishment. ‘What are you doing here?’ There was no mistaking that blue eye and the chunk missing from the tip of his ear. Hex jumped up, leaving two muddy streaks on the front of her jeans. ‘Get down!’ she growled, pushing him off.

  At that moment, Katrina Pettilow walked past leading Chelpie. The pony was immaculate, her hooves painted glossy black and mane plaited into neat little baubles, and her neck was covered with blue ribbons. Katrina smiled. ‘Now who’s the poo-magnet?’

  A sharp whistle made Jess turn. ‘Shara!’

  ‘Hex, come here,’ said Shara, ignoring Jess. At her feet sat Petunia, panting in the heat. Behind them both, tied to the side of the float, was Rocko, swishing his tail at a fly and picking at a net of hay. It was like déjà vu. Jess had spent so many weekends with Diamond tied to the other side of that horse float: Rocko on the right and Diamond on the left. Her first instinct was to throw her arms around Shara and jump up and down in excitement.

  But Shara’s face was hard and closed. She whistled up her dogs and walked back behind the float. Jess turned to the tap and made herself busy, filling a buck
et with cool, clean water for Dodger, while her mind whirled with hurt and disbelief.

  What was Shara doing here?

  22

  THE LOUDSPEAKER BOOMED. ‘This is the final competitor in the first round of the juniors, ladies and gentlemen, and it’s Shara Wilson on Rocko. He looks like a handy little fella, and young Shara seems to have a good handle on him. Some very nice blocking manoeuvres from the horse.’

  Jess listened to the announcer’s seamless monologue from the back of the truck. She couldn’t believe Shara was here in the middle of the outback. It didn’t seem possible.

  ‘Nice control of the beast around the first peg, and just look at that horse go, ladies and gentlemen, and she nearly lost it at the finish pegs, but she seems to be back on its heels, a very gutsy performance out there. And her time is up but a very tidy round, and the judge has given her a score of eighty-two, which will put her in the finals tomorrow.’

  It was the same score as Jess’s. Shara had always talked about campdrafting. But here? Now? In Longwood?

  The next event was the open draft. Jess wanted to see Harry ride Biyanga. He had been so disappointed about his two sons fighting that he’d decided to ride the stallion himself. He reckoned he was too old and creaky to get around the whole course, but he was going to try to win the highest cut-out score. The top ten scores would be eligible for a competition the next day and Harry had his sights set on that trophy.

  Leaving Dodger to eat his lunch, Jess made her way to the grandstand. She was relieved to find Tom and Luke sitting way up the back where there was no chance of running into Shara.

  ‘Hey, great round,’ said Tom, as she joined them.

  ‘What happened at the end?’ asked Luke. ‘Dodger stumble?’

  ‘He overreached,’ said Jess. ‘He’s pulled a shoe and torn up his foot.’

  ‘Lawson could—’ Luke stopped mid-sentence.

  ‘Yeah, don’t tell me, he could put shoes on a mosquito,’ said Jess glumly. ‘Not likely he’ll help me, though.’

  ‘Maybe there’s another farrier on the grounds,’ he suggested.

  ‘Apparently not,’ said Jess.

  ‘Hey, here comes that girl again,’ said Tom suddenly.

  ‘Which girl?’ asked Jess, looking across the grounds. She saw Shara, riding past the grandstand on Rocko.

  ‘Shara Wilson,’ said Tom. ‘I’ve seen her at a few drafts lately.’

  ‘A few drafts?’ said Jess. ‘I can’t believe it. She never told me she was drafting!’

  Tom and Luke stared at her. ‘How do you know her?’ asked Tom.

  ‘Who are you talking about?’ Grace shuffled across to join them.

  ‘Shara Wilson,’ said Tom.

  ‘She’s Jess’s best friend,’ said Grace. ‘Well, she used to be.’

  ‘We don’t talk much anymore,’ said Jess.

  ‘She’s a red-hot rider,’ said Tom.

  ‘Who’s a red-hot rider?’ asked Rosie, appearing from behind them.

  ‘Shara Wilson.’ Tom turned to Luke. ‘Brilliant horse. What’s the name of her horse?’

  Jess noticed Rosie scowl.

  ‘Rocky, I think,’ said Luke.

  ‘It’s Rocko,’ said Jess flatly.

  She saw Lawson outside the camp and took the opportunity to change the subject. ‘Hey, look. There’s Lawson. The novice event must have started.’

  Lawson rode into the camp on a big chestnut mare and nodded to the judge. He wore jeans and a rusty red shirt, and on his boots were long-shanked spurs. He faced the cattle and danced the mare back and forth to warm her up. A bundle of nerves and jitters, she dived madly into the mob, surfacing with a lanky black steer.

  The mare put in several good blocks, only to have the beast duck back to the mob. Lawson faced her up again and brought the steer to the front of the camp. He called for the gate and let the steer race out, completing the course and scoring a seventy-eight.

  ‘He still did a good job on that beast,’ said Luke.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Grace. ‘Even though he had two goes at cutting it.’

  ‘I think that’s his good mare, Marnie,’ said Tom. ‘She’s only young. He probably just wants to give her a bit of experience. Not much point in pushing her too hard in the camp.’

  ‘Since when does he care about that sort of thing?’ grumbled Jess.

  Harry was next. Biyanga looked magnificent in a fancy bridle with shiny buckles. With a nod to the judge, Harry squeezed him forward and began his cut-out. Biyanga walked calmly to the mob and singled out a black heifer. He followed it to the front of the yard and ducked quickly to block it as it dashed back and forth. Harry and the stallion danced easily from left to right, pushing the beast steadily to the front of the camp, and when it was clear that the bleating young heifer was under his complete control, Harry called for the gate. As it shot into the arena, the old man brought Biyanga to a sliding halt and let it go.

  ‘And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you cut a beast!’ said the announcer excitedly. ‘That’s a twenty-four cut-out, folks. You won’t see a better score than that this weekend! We’ll see Harry Blake and Biyanga in the cut-out competition tomorrow, and what an event it will be with that calibre of horsemanship.’

  Tom and Luke jumped to their feet, clapping and whistling with the rest of the audience. Jess stood up and clapped too, but although she was happy for Harry, she couldn’t get her mind off Shara and Rocko.

  Had Shara known Jess was going to be here? Was she purposely trying to freak her out? Was she trying to stop her from winning the draft? Why would she do that to her? She was so cold.

  As the others raced down the stands and back to the truck to see Harry, Jess walked off in the other direction. It was time to get some answers, not just second-hand whispers and gossip. Why would her best friend, her longest and truest friend, and someone she shared everything with, hide the truth from her?

  She was determined to find out.

  Jess walked into the stable block and found Rocko’s unmistakably chunky head hanging over a stable door. Shara was inside, picking out his feet.

  Jess stood at the door. ‘Tell me what happened, Shara. How did Diamond get out of her paddock?’

  Shara threw a hoofpick into a bucket and grabbed a brush. ‘Oh, hello to you too. Yes, I’ve been well, thank you. How about you?’ She brushed Rocko with short, sharp strokes, keeping her back to Jess.

  ‘How did she end up in that cattle grid, Shara?’

  ‘How would I know?’

  ‘You must have been there. You saw it happen, didn’t you?’

  Shara spun around and glared at her. ‘I did not see it happen. Do you really think I would just walk away and leave Diamond lying in a cattle grid? Who told you that?’

  ‘Why won’t you tell me about it, then?’

  Shara kept brushing Rocko and said nothing.

  ‘Shara!’

  ‘What? I told you, I didn’t see it happen. Now go away and leave me alone.’

  Jess didn’t move.

  Silence.

  Rocko screwed up his nose and took a swipe at the horse in the next stable. Shara stopped brushing. ‘I swear I don’t know, Jess.’

  ‘Then just tell me what you do know,’ said Jess, her voice softening, pleading. All this mystery was tearing her apart. ‘Why are you being so horrible to me? What have I done?’

  Shara let out a deep sigh. ‘Okay.’ She put an arm over Rocko’s back. ‘When I went down to the river flats that morning, the horses were out and Rocko was chasing Diamond around. I tried to catch him, but he charged at me and bit me.’ She rolled up her sleeve and showed Jess a red crescent-shaped scar on her upper arm. ‘Rocko was really upset about something. I’ve never seen him like that.’

  ‘Why didn’t you get me to come and help you?’

  ‘I couldn’t. I was supposed to be cleaning out the shed and Mum had told me not to go down there until I’d finished my jobs.’

  ‘But that’s a really bad bite. Surely you neede
d a doctor, surely that was more important than a few jobs? Your folks would be more worried about your arm.’

  ‘Mum hated Rocko enough already, everybody did, they still do. If she knew about this bite, there’s no way she’d let me keep him. He would have been sent straight back to the doggers. I couldn’t tell her.’

  Jess stood there, confused. Rocko screwed up his nose and shook his head at her.

  Shara continued. ‘I thought the horses would be okay while I went back and finished the shed. I was going to go back down and catch them in the afternoon, and then I got that letter from Canningdale. When I went around to your place to tell you, I was also going to get you to help me round them up. But I was too late.’

  ‘So, does your mum know now? That Rocko bit you?’ asked Jess.

  Shara tightened her mouth and said nothing.

  ‘She doesn’t know,’ said Jess. ‘How could you keep that scar hidden?’

  ‘I told her it was a different horse, some other horse down there. I wasn’t sure which one, because it all happened so fast.’ She gave Jess a don’t-you-dare-tell-her-otherwise look.

  ‘So when did Diamond get stuck in the grid?’ asked Jess.

  ‘I don’t know – sometime between when I saw her and when you found her, I guess. I swear I didn’t know she was hurt, Jess. There is no way I would have left her.’

  ‘So how did the horses get out?’

  Shara held her hands up. ‘I don’t know. Rocko has never gone through a fence before.’

  ‘Neither had Diamond.’

  They both stared at each other.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Shara? I was your best friend. We told each other everything. Soul sisters, remember?’ This was the bit that confounded Jess. ‘Didn’t you trust me?’

  ‘Jess, your horse had a broken leg. You were distraught. If you thought it was Rocko, if you’d seen my arm, you would have said Rocko was vicious too.’

  He is!

  Shara saw the look on Jess’s face. ‘See. I knew you’d think so! Everyone thinks he’s dangerous. Dad would have made me get rid of him, and there’s no way I could find a good home for a horse like him. He would have had to die too. I just couldn’t do it.’ Shara was beginning to sound upset.