Diamond Spirit (12 page)

Craig raised one eyebrow at her. ‘And the goats?’

‘Won’t they be okay turned out for a week?’

‘What about the milkers?’

‘There aren’t any,’ said Caroline. ‘You know they’re all dry at the moment. Actually, it would be a really good time to get away.’

‘Yippee! We’re going!’

Jess jumped up and threw her arms around her father’s neck. He only ever did the one-eyebrow trick when he was in a good mood. Craig braced himself and raised his half-full coffee cup in the air so as not to spill it.

‘No promises, Jess. We’d have to think about it properly and organise some things. Maybe we can go. And I mean
maybe
.’

Jess smothered him with kisses.

‘Oh, good grief!’ Craig gasped for air. ‘Stop slobbering on me, will you?’

‘Come on. Let’s go and plant those mulga seeds before it gets too hot,’ suggested Caroline. ‘Then we’ll cook up a fine draftcamping breakfast.’

‘That’s campdrafting, Mum,’ said Jess, walking to the door and pulling her new hat down on her head.

‘Campdrafting. A good
campdrafting
breakfast. Those cows had better look out!’

‘Hang on a minute! We haven’t decided yet,’ called Craig from the lounge room.

‘Oh, give it up, Dad,’ called Jess. ‘You know you’re outnumbered!’

Jess and Caroline made their way out to the garden. The ground was still lumpy over Diamond’s grave, but tiny shoots of green had begun to poke up through the dirt. Caroline took a rake. ‘We’ll just loosen the soil so those seeds can get a better grip on life, Jess.’

Jess carefully emptied the contents of the packet into the palm of her hand and then poked her finger into the ground, making little holes and placing the seeds in one by one. When they had pressed them all in and watered them, Caroline headed back to the house. ‘I’ll come up in a minute,’ called Jess, sitting down under Diamond’s tree. She ran her hand over the ground. ‘I’ll do this somehow, Diamond,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll win the money and buy Walkabout and it’ll be like old times again.’

16

THE NEXT DAY,
Dodger trotted up to the fence for his morning feed. He had put on condition and his coat looked a bit healthier, but he still had a big saggy belly. The resentment Jess once felt for him had waned since she had last handled him, but he still didn’t seem like
her
horse. She climbed through the fence and Dodger snorted with surprise. He didn’t usually get so much as a ‘hello’.

While he was eating his hay, she gave him a good brush and combed out his tail. His feet were a bit overgrown and he would need shoes, but to start with she could work him in the arena, where it was soft underfoot. The gear she had put together last time she rode him was still in the tackroom and, once he finished eating, she saddled him up without incident and led him down to Harry’s.

At Harry’s she tied him up to the hitching rail alongside the other horses. He stood there with his lower lip hanging out, looking like an absolute train wreck next to the long-legged, gleaming colts, Legsy and Nosey. Tom, Luke, Grace and Rosie gathered around waiting for Harry’s appraisal.

Jess cringed. It was ridiculous. Dodger wasn’t going to win any campdrafts. Why was she even doing this?

Harry limped over and gave Dodger a rub under his thick forelock. ‘Geez, he’s got a head like a beaten favourite,’ he chuckled. ‘How old is he?’ He pushed open Dodger’s mouth and had a quick look at his teeth. Then he ran his hand down the horse’s neck and over his shoulder. ‘Station-bred, by the looks of this brand.’

Harry talked away as he passed his hands over Dodger, picking up the horse’s feet and looking at his hooves, inspecting every bump on his legs with an experienced thumb. ‘These old legs could tell a few stories,’ he said. ‘He seems sound enough, though.’ He moved around the tail end and all the way along Dodger’s back. ‘A horse for all the family, they’d call him out west,’ he said. ‘Long in the back, isn’t he?’

Harry approached the other shoulder. ‘Well, I’ll be jiggered!’ he said in astonishment. ‘He’s got the same stud brand as old Bunyip.’ He ran a couple of fingers over the three horizontal bars on the Dodger’s shoulder and his expression changed.

He grinned at Jess and she saw something come alive in his eyes. ‘If he comes from Triple Bar stud, he’s going to be a half-handy pony, I give you the tip,’ he said. His blue eyes twinkled. ‘Not many horses like this around now.’

‘Really?’ said Jess, shocked at such a positive assessment. ‘But don’t you think he’s a bit . . .’

‘He’s a bit of a roughie, but so was old Bunyip. You don’t need a show pony to bring in the cattle. These station-bred horses are as hardy as they come; honest too. I bet he has plenty of cattle sense.’

Harry ran his hands over Dodger’s wither and gave it a gentle squeeze. Dodger quivered violently and arched his back. He put his ears back and screwed up his nose. But before Jess could call him crazy again, Harry said, ‘You a bit sore there, old fella?’ He fingered a patch of white hair on the horse’s shoulder and then turned to Jess. ‘Where’s your saddle, kiddo?’

Jess pointed to the saddle on the fence rail.

‘Is that the one you rode him in when you had the accident?’

‘Yes . . . ?’

‘Pony-club saddle,’ he grunted with disdain. ‘Be a love and get me a bottle of talcum powder out of the cupboard in the tackroom, will you?’

When Jess gave him the powder, Harry took the saddle and turned it upside down. There were two long panels, designed to sit either side of the horse’s spine. Harry gave them a sprinkle. Then he slung the saddle onto Dodger’s back, gave it a few pats and took it off again, leaving patches of white dust on the horse’s back.

‘Come and have a look at this,’ he said. ‘See how the powder came off on his shoulder and it’s in patches along his back? It should leave one long mark, to show that the pressure is evenly distributed. These white hairs on his shoulder are where the saddle was pinching him. That would explain why he’s been tossing his head around.’

‘But it never gave Diamond any problems,’ said Jess.

‘Was she fifteen hands high with a broad wither?’

‘No, she was . . .’

‘About thirteen hands high with a narrow wither?’

‘Um, yeah.’ Jess felt really stupid.

Harry gave her a friendly wink. ‘Told you there was no such thing as a dumb horse.’

Jess patted Dodger on the neck. ‘I’m so sorry, Dodger.’

‘Let’s get a proper stock saddle on him,’ said Harry. ‘Dunno how you can sit in them self-unloaders anyway.’

He shuffled into the tackroom and came out a moment later with a big old stock saddle. ‘This oughta fit a bit better,’ he said, slinging it over Dodger’s back. After checking the fit, he said, ‘Righto, let’s see what this old brumby can do.’ He led him over to the round yard.

Shutting the gate behind him, Harry slapped Dodger on the rump and let him go free. The horse settled into a steady rhythm, trotting like clockwork around the edge of the circular yard.

Harry stood in the centre and grinned. ‘I reckon he’s been in a yard or two.’ Then he stepped out into the pathway of the horse.

As if anticipating this move, Dodger spun around and trotted off in the other direction, immediately settling back into a steady tempo. He locked one of his long ears in Harry’s direction, ready for the next signal. Harry slapped his hands on his thighs in delight. ‘Yep, he can get about all right. Watch this!’

He stepped in front of the horse again. Like lightning, Dodger spun on his heel and settled back into a rhythm as if nothing had happened. Harry repeated the same move a few more times and then clicked his tongue, urging the horse up into a canter. From a faster gait, Dodger spun and turned effortlessly. After a few minutes he put his nose to the ground, and a long, resigned sigh spluttered from his nostrils.

‘Whoa, old fella,’ Harry called. Dodger immediately came back to a walk and turned towards Harry. Harry gave him a rub on the forehead. ‘Good man.’ He walked to the gate and Dodger followed like a shadow. ‘Got your helmet, Jess?’

‘She can use mine!’ Grace called out, unbuckling her chinstrap and holding it out eagerly.

Jess instantly felt panicky. Dodger spun so fast – what if she couldn’t keep up with him? What if she came off in front of everyone? What if . . .

‘Here you go, Jessy.’ Grace pushed the helmet into her lap.

‘Thanks.’ Jess turned it over in her hands and inspected the inside, stalling for time. It had ‘Australian Safety Standard Approved’ written on the inner label.

‘What, do you reckon I’ve got nits or something?’ grinned Grace. She took the helmet back and lifted it to Jess’s head. ‘Come on, you’ll be okay.’

Jess dodged the helmet and grappled it out of Grace’s hands. ‘Okay, okay. I’m putting it on. Give me half a chance.’ She stepped back to give herself a bit of elbow room, placed the helmet on her head and fiddled with the chinstrap.

The helmet was a perfect fit. It felt good and snug. ‘Now all I need is a padded suit,’ Jess mumbled as she stepped towards Dodger. Harry stood patiently, holding him by the reins.

‘Harry won’t let anything happen to you,’ said Grace. ‘He’d never put you up there if it wasn’t safe.’

Harry gave her a warm smile. ‘You’ll be fine, Jess,’ he said, as he handed her the reins. ‘He’s a good horse.’

Jess set her jaw hard and stared Dodger in the eye, determined to get control of her nerves. Dodger rolled an eyeball and stiffened his back. She flipped a rein over his neck, getting ready to mount, then took a large chunk of his thick mane in her hand. She had to do this. She had to get through it. Dodger raised his head and arched his neck.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

‘Why don’t you just give him a pat for a minute?’ Harry stepped around her and took the reins back over Dodger’s neck. ‘Just give yourself some time to say hello to him.’

He gently pried Jess’s hand from the mane and placed it on Dodger’s shoulder. ‘There you go,’ he said in his rusty voice. ‘Give the old fella a pat first.’ He let go and took a step back.

Jess dropped her hand. ‘I just don’t trust him,’ she said, feeling bitter disappointment. She wanted to cry. Dodger took a step away from her. ‘Look, he just doesn’t like me. He’s fine around everyone else.’

Luke came forward. He ran a calm hand over the old stockhorse’s nose and Dodger visibly melted. ‘You can trust him, Jess,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘If you don’t hurt him, he won’t hurt you.’

‘But I’ve never hurt him,’ said Jess.

‘They know everything you’re thinking. They just mirror what you do.’

Jess watched the way Dodger was pushing his fore–head into Luke’s hand like a kitten. She could almost hear him purring.

Her head told her she could do this. She could make Diamond purr. She’d made friends with Wally. But her heart . . .

Pretend he’s Diamond.

Jess took the reins from Luke and began to pat Dodger’s neck. She closed her eyes. He felt smooth and warm. He smelled great. She ran her hand up and over his ears and along the top of his neck, and felt him relax a little. She kept scratching just behind the ears, until he pushed into her hand and snorted softly. She smiled – he was like a different horse.

Jess spent a bit more time running her hands over his face and scratching his cheeks. She rubbed his forehead and tickled under his chin. Dodger went all gooey and waggled his top lip. After several more minutes, she turned to Luke. ‘I think I’m ready to get on him now.’

Luke nodded.

She ran her hand over Dodger a few more times, flipped the reins over his neck and took hold of a stirrup. This time it felt routine. It felt right. She was ready, he was ready.

Jess gave a quick hop and hoisted herself up and Dodger stood quietly while she eased herself into the stock saddle. It was like an armchair, immediately making her feel relaxed. She gathered up her reins, leaned forward and gave him a pat on the neck. ‘Okay, boy. Let’s try this again.’

She gave Dodger a gentle squeeze with her legs, keeping her face well up. He walked off without fuss.

‘Feel okay?’ Harry asked.

‘So far,’ Jess answered. She walked him around a couple of laps and then eased him into a trot. His stride was smooth and rhythmic and soon she was cantering around the big arena. Dodger had a long, loping stride that was easy to sit to. It was amazing what a difference the new saddle made.

She hadn’t realised how much she had missed riding.

She cantered Dodger in big circles, changing direction every now and then to form figure eights. Tom and Luke hung their arms over the top rail and watched. Rosie and Grace climbed up onto the fence.

‘Go, Jess!’ Grace called out, ecstatic that Jess was back in the saddle.

Jess laughed and held up a thumb. ‘I’m going, I’m going.’

Harry shuffled out into the arena and began tinkering with something in the corner. Along the side fence were two ropes running the length of the arena, one above the other. At one end the rope wound around a large bicycle wheel and back along the fence. At the other end, it went around what looked like the back end of the bicycle.

Harry tied a chaff bag to the top rope so that it dangled from the middle. Then he clambered onto the end post and began to pedal the bicycle. The rope ran around the wheels, sending the chaff bag back and forth along the arena. It was quite a contraption.

‘What on earth is that?’ Jess asked.

‘It’s Harry’s cow-cycle,’ said Rosie. ‘That’s how we teach a horse to follow a cow. They learn to lock onto something and follow it back and forth. The rider can also practise giving the horse the correct signals.’

‘Righto, let’s put him on the bag,’ said Harry. ‘Bring him over for a look, Jess.’

Jess rode Dodger over to the crazy contraption, wondering how this would pan out.

‘Let him have a sniff,’ said Harry.

Dodger held out his neck and gave a soft snort at the bag. As he was sniffing it, Harry pedalled the rope, taking the bag a small distance from the horse’s nose. Dodger propped both ears forward and followed it. The bag stopped and Dodger stopped. Harry pedalled again and Dodger walked along, following it.

‘Hold on, Jess,’ Harry called out as he back-pedalled, sending the bag in the opposite direction.