Turtle Reef

by Jennifer Scoullar

  Bridget returned with a mineral water and Zoe’s iced tea. Funny, since that first day with Quinn she’d become a fan.

  ‘Let me just say,’ said Bridget, ‘how impressed I am by your work here so far.’

  A warm flush of pride and pleasure spread from Zoe’s neck, up to her cheeks. ‘I haven’t had the chance to tell you, Bridget, but I’ve finished mapping the seagrass beds in the bay’s southern quadrant, based on those aerial photographs you gave me. I can start spot sampling in the field next week.’ Zoe paused as Bridget raised her brows in approval. ‘But the news isn’t good,’ she said. ‘Compared to that ten-year-old study by Kirkwood, seagrass cover looks like it’s down by, maybe, forty per cent.’

  Bridget frowned. ‘That’s a worry. The mapping data you’ve sent me so far is meticulously done, by the way. It’s first class.’

  It was what she’d been waiting for, a one-on-one like this with Bridget, discussing quadrants and maps and research. ‘When do we start the tag-and-release program?’ asked Zoe. ‘That’s when we’ll find out how the dugongs are really faring. At the moment we’re just guessing.’

  ‘You’re keen, Zoe,’ said Bridget. ‘I love that, I do, but first things first. We need those seagrass maps finished before we move on.’

  ‘The field sampling as well?’

  Bridget nodded. ‘No point tagging animals without solid data about their local environment.’

  Zoe shielded her eyes from the glare of the water, fighting to hide her disappointment. ‘But at the rate I’m going, the mapping could take months. How about an extra day a week for me to work on it? Or two half days? I could head out after the shark show.’

  ‘That would be great,’ agreed Bridget. ‘But unfortunately I can’t spare you, especially now we’ve got those three baby pelicans on top of everything else. Either you or Karen have to be there when I’m not.’ Bridget lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Just between you and me, you’re much better with the animals than Karen. She doesn’t have your gift.’

  Zoe felt the tell-tale flush across her neck again. Gift? Bridget thought she had a gift?

  ‘The other thing I love about you,’ continued Bridget, ‘is your dedication to returning our rescues to the wild. And I share that dedication, I really do. Look at last month. Three cormorants, five rays and two turtles – nursed back to health with your help, given the all-clear by George and released where they were found. That’s what we’re here for.’

  Zoe could hear the but coming, felt the flush fading.

  ‘But sometimes it’s just not possible.’ Bridget leaned forwards, her face solemn. ‘Let me assure you, no dolphin fit for release spends one day more at the Reef Centre than is absolutely necessary.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Zoe. ‘I didn’t mean to imply they did. It’s just that I saw my first wild dolphins last week and, well . . . they were such free spirits. I’d love our dolphins to experience that again.’

  Bridget didn’t speak for a while, seemingly lost in thought. ‘Let me tell you a story,’ she said at last. ‘Last January, Archie brought me a young dolphin he found tangled in a shark net, terribly malnourished. We named her Hope. I nursed her round the clock, hardly leaving her side, neglecting my other duties, even neglecting Quinn.’ This last one was apparently the greatest lapse of all. Bridget’s eyes misted over. ‘I can’t tell you how much I loved that dolphin. Hope was like my child.’

  ‘Did she pull through?’

  ‘She did, with a lot of love and care. I wanted to release her, but George wasn’t so sure. Her red blood cell count was still low, and he wanted to wait.’ Bridget drew a deep sigh. ‘I wouldn’t hear of it. Told him it was her birthright to be free. So we took her eighty kilometres up the coast to where Archie first found her. She chased the boat when we let her go, trying to follow us.’ Bridget took a sip of her drink and Zoe again found the glare of the sky and sea too much. ‘We found Hope last month, washed up on Kiawa beach, just a few hundred metres from the centre. She’d come back, you see. She’d tried to find me.’ Bridget paused, as if it was too painful to continue.

  ‘Was she . . .?’

  Bridget nodded grimly. ‘The autopsy showed that she’d died from a combination of starvation and infected shark bites.’

  ‘Oh no.’

  ‘Hope wasn’t as strong and capable as I’d thought. From that day on I vowed to never make the same mistake again.’ Bridget lowered her head; a moment later a tear rolled down her cheek. The sight moved Zoe to tears herself. At that moment their connection was tangible. She and Bridget, wildlife-warriors together, fighting for the animals of Turtle Reef.

  A voice from behind them made Zoe jump. ‘What’s wrong?’ Quinn pulled up a chair, concern written all over his face. ‘Are you two crying?’

  Zoe had barely seen Quinn since that day in Bundaberg two weeks ago when she’d asked him to let Josh ride. The conversation had left Quinn furious, she knew. Furious and hurting, but Zoe had no regrets. Somebody had to tell him how unfair he was being. Somebody had to be an advocate for Josh.

  But her boldness had come at a cost. Quinn no longer dropped by the guest house on her days off with an invitation to go riding. He didn’t ask her up to the house for a cup of tea, made the old fashioned way in a china pot. When they met by accident in the garden, he didn’t point out where the wallaby with twin joeys was hiding, or show off a new flower spike on the purple ground orchids. Zoe missed these simple connections and was lonely without them. Kiawa wasn’t a friendly town. If it wasn’t for Leo Macalister, she’d have no kind of social life at all.

  Quinn rested his gaze on her. There was no anger in his eyes this time, only warmth. She turned away, blinking back tears, pushing away a worm of guilt. He’d be wilder than ever if he knew what she and Josh were doing every morning. She wiped her face. ‘Bridget was just telling me about —’

  ‘Let’s change the subject to something more cheerful,’ said Bridget.

  ‘One of my jokes should do it,’ he said. ‘Why did the cane farmer win a Nobel prize?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Bridget.

  Zoe shrugged. ‘Me either.’

  ‘Because he was out standing in his field.’ Silence. Bridget looked at Zoe and they both groaned, but the sombre moment had passed. ‘That’s what I wanted to see.’ Quinn reached for his girlfriend’s hand. ‘A smile on that beautiful face.’

  ‘Your jokes are so bad they always make me smile.’ Bridget touched his face in a tender gesture. Zoe looked away. All this lovey-doveyness was making her sentimental. She’d never felt special to somebody like that. The yearning passed almost as quickly as it had come. Quinn kissed Bridget softly on the lips, and Zoe examined her feelings. Good, no twinge of jealousy or sadness. Time to concentrate on the important stuff. Next week she’d start sampling the seagrass beds off Turtle Reef. Now that was the sort of satisfaction that she could rely on.

  CHAPTER 14

  The hands on her brand-new wind-up alarm clock showed five o’clock. Zoe lay awake, listening to the dawn chorus of birdsong, waiting for the rap on the door. Knock, knock, knock. Captain jumped off the bed and padded out, tail a-wag. Zoe yawned, got up and raised the window blind. First light was peeping around the rose-tinted clouds. One of the best things about this getting-up-at-daybreak business was seeing the sun come up.

  A familiar impatience took hold. She couldn’t wait to go riding. Yet for the last two weeks Zoe’s impatience was tempered with concern. Josh was doing more than giving her early morning lessons on Cobber. He’d started to retrain Aisha, and it was their secret.

  When she’d first handed Josh the bridle, he’d frowned. ‘Not that one.’

  ‘That’s the bridle that was on the hook marked Aisha,’ said Zoe.

  He ran his finger over the twisted metal mouthpiece. ‘Get me Cobber’s – the one with the rubber bit.’

  At first Josh struggled to get the bridle anywhere near Aisha. It was heartbreaking to see how frightened she was. It took the t
wo of them half an hour to fit it on the rearing mare. By the time it was properly adjusted and buckled up they were all out of breath. Aisha stood damp with sweat, forefeet spread wide and sides heaving.

  ‘Come on,’ he soothed, rubbing her ears. ‘You’re okay.’ At first he lunged her in circles using the soft rubber snaffle, roller and loose-running reins. After a few days, as she grew less fearful, he attached long ropes to her bridle. Walking a few metres behind, he reinforced the rein signals with voice commands as if she was harnessed to a buggy. Walk, trot, left, right, whoa. Aisha was a keen and quick learner. Sometimes he clicker-trained her at liberty, teaching her to bow and come when called, using polo mints as rewards. The mare was hooked on the sweets, and soon learned to faithfully follow him anywhere without ropes or halters.

  Zoe paced the rails, heart in mouth when he first mounted the mare. What if something went wrong? The saddle didn’t worry Aisha. She tolerated the tightened girth and flapping stirrups with barely a flick of her ears.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

  Josh answered by putting a foot in the stirrup and mounting. Aisha plunged across the manège, nose in the air, ears flat against her head. She rolled her eyes and frothed at the mouth. She constantly fussed, chewed at the bit and flung her head around.

  Josh responded by working Aisha on a completely loose rein. It was wonderful to see him guide her using only his legs. The mare seemed confused when first given her head, snatching at the bit, unsure of this newfound freedom. But before long she began to relax. Her ears came forward, her champing lessened and she stretched her neck out, long and low. By the third day Aisha understood that nobody was going to hurt her mouth any more. The pair began to work as a team.

  They were in constant danger of being found out. Zoe minimised the risk as much as possible. The manège couldn’t be seen from the house, not even from the second-storey balcony. Zoe had checked. The stables were screened by a line of fig trees and, according to Josh, Quinn usually attended to his daily paperwork straight after breakfast. So although he was an early riser, he was rarely out and about before seven-thirty.

  There’d been some close calls. Brian, the farm manager, drove past a couple of times on his way down to the river. Each time Josh ducked from sight at the sound of the approaching jeep. The various workers weren’t horsey people and didn’t take much notice of Zoe bumping around on Cobber, or of the saddled and bridled black horse pawing at the big barrel in the middle of the manège.

  Once Quinn came looking for her. She heard him calling her name long before she saw him. ‘Quick,’ she said to Josh, who stood like he was frozen. ‘Take Aisha out the back, into the cane.’ She nudged him. ‘Hurry.’

  He sprang to life, coiling the lunge rein in his right hand and running with the mare into the field. The waving stems closed seamlessly behind them. All that showed above the crop were the tips of Aisha’s dark ears.

  Quinn came round the corner, Captain trotting at his heels. ‘Morning, Zoe,’ he said in his easy drawl. ‘I’m impressed. Didn’t think you’d be up yet. How’s Cobber going?’

  ‘Good, great . . .’ Zoe guiltily smoothed the check fabric of the new shirt she’d bought for riding. This was the first time since their afternoon in Bundaberg that Quinn had sought her out. Here he was, extending the olive branch she’d hoped for, and she was in no position to accept it. Captain pricked his ears towards the cane. Would he give the game away?

  Quinn looked very handsome in the early morning light, with his smiling grey eyes and hair still wet from the shower. ‘Bridget rang to ask if you can work this afternoon. Leo wants a private dolphin show for some bigwigs he’s trying to impress. Can you help her out? And can you take Josh with you? Bridget thinks he’s better off at the centre than playing on that computer all day. She’s an angel, isn’t she? Putting up with him the way she does.’

  ‘Sure.’ Zoe turned her back on him, fiddling with Cobber’s girth in an attempt to show that she was busy and the conversation was over. But, damn it, he suddenly wanted to talk.

  ‘Finally figured it out, have you? That mornings are the best part of the day?’ Zoe smiled, but didn’t respond. She turned towards him, placed a hand on the hitching rail, felt the undeniable current of attraction between them. Quinn mirrored her movement. Did he feel it to? ‘How are the riding lessons with Josh going? Can’t imagine he’s much of a teacher. It’s bloody hard for him to get out what he means sometimes.’

  Zoe bit her lip. There was so much she wanted to tell him. That the lessons had been going swimmingly and that Josh was an excellent, if somewhat unorthodox, teacher. That although he had trouble finding words to explain himself, he’d worked out a way to overcome the problem. That he’d been coaching Zoe with whistles and clicks, in the same way that he trained the dolphins . . . in the same way that he trained Aisha.

  ‘Josh has been great,’ she said. ‘Look, sorry . . . I’m going for a ride.’

  Quinn lowered his eyes and made a line in the dirt with his boot. ‘I’d keep you company,’ he said, ‘only there’s a meeting at the mill . . .’

  ‘No problems.’ She tried to mount, but ended up hopping around awkwardly on her toes.

  ‘Stand still, will you?’ He legged her up and tightened the girth. ‘Where are you off to, anyway?’

  ‘Aah . . . up the Hump.’

  ‘I guess it’s the only ride you know. We’ll have to fix that. There are some fantastic beach rides I could show you.’

  ‘That’d be great.’ Zoe was sweating in spite of the cool morning. She could see Captain, nose to ground, scouting closer to Josh’s hiding place. ‘Look, if I don’t get going I won’t have time to help Bridget out this arvo, so . . .’

  ‘Of course. See you later then. Enjoy your ride.’ Did he sound disappointed, or was that just her imagination? Quinn slapped Cobber on the rump and whistled to Captain. The dog stood staring at the cane field for a moment, then followed him back up to the house.

  Zoe waited until she was sure he’d gone, then slipped off Cobber and went to find Josh.

  ‘Why is Quinn so mean?’ Josh had asked, hugging Aisha’s satin neck. ‘I hate him.’

  ‘No you don’t,’ she’d said sadly. ‘You love him, and he loves you. Somehow we’ll find a way to make him understand.’

  ‘I don’t want to do a lesson today. I want to go out,’ Josh called from the kitchen. ‘Aisha’s bored in the manège.’

  Zoe opened her mouth to argue, and shut it again. She hated going behind Quinn’s back, but she hated the idea of disappointing Josh even more. He was a different boy around Aisha – confident, enthusiastic. Yesterday, he’d said, ‘Riding Aisha makes me feel the way I did before I hurt my head.’ Soon he’d be able to tell his brother just that. Once Quinn saw how happy the mare made Josh, he’d have to come around.

  Zoe could hear the sound of clinking cups and the kettle going on the stove. She showered, dressed and grabbed her phone off the charger. More out of habit than anything. Mobile reception in Kiawa was patchy at best. When she arrived in the kitchen Josh handed her breakfast. Always the same thing – two slices of vegemite toast and a cup of tea. Fortunately she’d learned to like tea. The beverage was as ubiquitous to Kiawa as coffee was to Sydney.

  ‘Well?’ he said.

  Could they go for a proper ride? Why not? The horses were behaving beautifully. Quinn was away in Brisbane until tonight. Brian and the other farm workers wouldn’t arrive until eight o’clock. They had the place to themselves.

  ‘Okay,’ said Zoe. ‘We’ll ride down to the river, but no further than that. Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’ Josh began to hum, and put another round of bread into the toaster. Zoe smiled. Apparently Aisha wasn’t the only one bored with riding in the manège.

  They headed down to the stables beneath a pale sky, with Captain and his waving plume of a tail leading the way. Josh selected a head collar and lead rein from the tack room. ‘Let me catch Aisha today,’ said Zoe. She held out Cobber’s gea
r. Josh hesitated for a moment, then nodded. They swapped head collars and she hurried off through the dew-damp grass.

  The black mare was down by the irrigation channel, standing by the fence, staring longingly at a herd of horses grazing in a distant paddock. Zoe called to her and Aisha pranced across to the gate, tail held high. It streamed out behind her like a banner. She looked very beautiful, like a dream horse. No matter how many times Zoe saw that proud head and floating trot, it always sent a little prickle of excitement down her spine.

  They saddled up and set off for the river. Aisha danced on ahead, shying at Captain and eyeing each puddle and rock with exaggerated interest. ‘Not too fast,’ called Zoe. ‘Just walk.’ But it was no use. Aisha kept dancing and Cobber had to trot to catch up.

  ‘Don’t blame me.’ Josh was grinning from ear to ear. ‘She wants to go.’

  Even lazy Cobber felt fresh, stepping sideways and chewing at the bit. The broad, grassy track stretched invitingly before them, flanked by swaying forests of sugarcane on one side, and a harvested field on the other. A reckless energy pulsed through Zoe, and she matched the boy’s grin with her own. ‘Well, if she wants to go, let’s go.’

  Josh whooped out loud, startling the horses. Cobber shied. Aisha arched her back and gave three high-spirited bucks. Zoe held her breath, but Josh sat them out easily. The horses settled into a steady, pounding canter, side by side, stride for stride. Zoe laughed aloud. It was perfect – the feeling of controlled speed and power beneath her, the shadows striping the path ahead, the sweet, heady fragrance of freshly cut cane.

  When they reached the old stone wall by the river they pulled up their horses and let them graze on a loose rein. She checked her watch. Seven o’clock. ‘Time to head back.’