Opal Dreaming

by Karen Wood

  ‘Wish Harry was here now so he could tell me what to do,’ Jess said, almost to herself.

  Luke spoke from under Dodger’s belly, still cheerful. ‘Yeah, he would’ve known what to do with her.’ He finished the front hoof, dropped it, ran a hand over Dodger’s hindquarter and picked up the next one.

  ‘Harry was like a father to you, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Luke, snipping away at the hoof.

  ‘Where’s your real dad?’

  Luke kept snipping for a while before he answered. ‘Harry was my real dad.’

  ‘I mean your biological dad.’

  ‘Don’t know, don’t care,’ Luke said in a neutral sort of voice.

  He didn’t offer anything more, and Jess wasn’t sure whether to push it, because she couldn’t see his face. She had never heard anything about Luke’s real family, which was unusual in Coachwood Crossing. Everyone knew everything about everyone else in this town.

  Luke silently cleaned, trimmed and filed the third hoof, and the fourth. When it was done, he dropped it and turned to face her, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. ‘How come you asked me that, about my real father?’

  Jess shrugged and twiddled Dodger’s forelock. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘My mum died when I was little and then my father adopted me out when I was four. When that didn’t work out, I went into the foster system.’

  Jess was stunned. ‘Four? As in four years old?’ She imagined Luke as a freckled four-year-old, with little four-year-old boots and four-year-old Wrangler jeans. He would have been so cute. ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. Because he’s a loser.’

  ‘So what happened to the people that fostered you?’

  ‘Which ones?’

  ‘How many were there?’

  Luke didn’t reply.

  ‘You poor thing!’ said Jess quietly.

  ‘I can look after myself,’ said Luke, sounding slightly defensive. ‘Just because my old man’s a dud, it doesn’t mean I have to be. I’ve got a good job and I’ll be able to buy a ute soon.’ His voice lightened. ‘An HQ. Then when Legsy and me win some big drafts, I’m gonna buy a property out west and run cattle.’

  ‘How is Legs going?’ she asked, letting the topic of Luke’s father fall away.

  ‘Good,’ nodded Luke. He was being modest. Luke won everything on Legsy, and the colt was only a five-year-old.

  ‘You ever gonna cut him?’ asked Jess, pulling a carrot out of her pocket and taking a bite of it before giving the rest to Dodger.

  ‘Not sure yet. Don’t want to.’ He winced in a way that made Jess laugh and reached out to pat Filth, who was trembling at his feet. The big dog jumped up and put his paws on Luke’s shoulders, his tail waving clumsily back and forth.

  ‘Taking Legsy droving?’

  ‘Yep! One week to go!’ He took Filth by the paws and started dancing with him, making Jess laugh again.

  ‘Taking the dogs?’

  ‘Nah, Lawson won’t let them come. They’re not cattle dogs, they’ll just cause trouble.’ He dropped Filth’s paws and gave him a rub behind the ears.

  ‘What about Tom?’

  ‘He’s hoping to come out for a few days later on. He’s got a lot of study now he’s at boarding school. Don’t wanna get in the way of that. Lawson said he could ride Chocky, you know, the brumby I gave him? He’s green broke now.’

  Jess nodded. ‘I saw Lawson riding Chocky the other day.’

  ‘Wal’s going too.’

  ‘Wally?’ Jess felt her hackles rise. ‘Lawson better not break her in while he’s got her out there. He promised me I could do that.’

  ‘She’s old enough to start, isn’t she?’

  ‘I already have, a bit.’ Jess had been desensitising the filly to ropes for weeks. ‘But don’t tell Lawson that – he’ll want to do it his way.’

  ‘She’s just going for the ride, I think,’ said Luke. ‘Why don’t you come too?’

  ‘I already asked. Dad freaked.’

  ‘Couldn’t talk him round, huh?’

  ‘He reckons there are too many blokes going,’ said Jess. ‘It’s no place for a girl.’

  ‘He’s probably right,’ Luke said, giving her a cheeky smile. ‘It’s no place for a glam like you, Jessica Fairley.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, indignant.

  ‘Nice shirt,’ he commented.

  Jess looked down at her scruffy red flannie, one of several she had pilfered from her father’s wardrobe. They were comfy and warm and she didn’t particularly care what they looked like. ‘From the Craig Fairley collection,’ she smiled, grabbing the shirt tails and curtseying.

  ‘Guess it’s the closest thing to a dress he’ll ever see you in.’

  ‘Yep,’ said Jess, unapologetically. She looked him over. ‘You can talk, Luke Matheson. You badly need a haircut.’

  ‘There’s some horse clippers in the tackroom.’

  ‘Want me to do it now?’

  ‘No.’ Luke took a step back and placed his hat firmly on his head.

  ‘I’m very neat,’ Jess insisted. ‘Just look at Dodger.’

  Luke looked at Dodger’s closely shaved mane and grimaced.

  Lawson clomped down the path from Annie’s house with some books tucked under his arm. ‘Need a lift home, Jess? I’m going to see your dad.’ He waved the books at her. ‘Tax time!’

  ‘Nah, I’ve got transport,’ she answered, pointing to Dodger.

  ‘You coming, Luke?’

  ‘I’ll ride over with Jess.’

  Lawson smirked and got into his ute.

  Jess ran after him. She pulled a bundle of notes out of her jeans pocket and dropped them into his lap. ‘It’s for Opal.’

  He picked them up and handed them back to her. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘But I want to pay for her.’

  Lawson pushed the money back at her and shook his head. ‘See how she goes out on the station first.’

  ‘I don’t want to send her out there, she’s not well enough,’ said Jess.

  ‘It’d be the best thing for her,’ said Lawson. ‘She needs to be with a mob of horses. If you try handling her while she’s got an attitude like that, you’ll end up with one dangerous horse. She’ll turn out just like that crazy white thing.’

  Jess shook her head. She had made her decision. ‘She’s not going without me.’

  Lawson wrapped two large hands around hers, enclosing the money firmly inside. ‘Yes, she is – because I still own her.’

  Jess stared at him, her mouth agape. His face was closed and hard. She had seen that impenetrable will on his face before. When she could finally speak, she said, ‘You . . . absolute . . . pig!’

  7

  JESS LAY AWAKE in bed, furiously grinding her jaw back and forth. She’d spent all week trying to convince her parents to intervene, to demand Lawson hand over her filly, but they refused. He owned Opal and there was nothing they could or would do to change that.

  But there was just no way she was letting Lawson take Opal out west without her. Opal was weaned, and that meant she was her filly, money or no money.

  Jess lay restlessly for what seemed an eternity, listening to her parents’ banter in the kitchen and the babble of the television behind their words. Finally, she heard intermittent snaps around the house as the lights were turned out and the TV was silenced for the night.

  Beneath her bed was a fat backpack containing a change of clothes, a jacket, a torch, a pair of pliers, a drink bottle and a riding helmet, plus her entire savings – including the money for Opal. A handwritten note for her parents was in the side pocket.

  A thread of guilt wove through Jess’s anger. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this to her parents. But when the house fell completely still and she could hear the steady whistle of her father’s snoring, she reached below her bed and pulled out a pair of jeans and a jumper. She wriggled into them under her quilt, so as not to make any creaking sounds on the timber floorb
oards, then lay still again. When all remained quiet, she rose, grabbed her backpack and tiptoed to the toilet.

  She stood staring at the four walls for the appropriate length of time, tore some paper off the roll and flushed it down the loo. Then she tiptoed back along the hallway, placing her note on the hat rack on the way.

  Dear Mum and Dad,

  If I let her go with Lawson, I’ll never see her again.

  Please don’t be mad at me.

  Love, Jess.

  Instead of turning into her room, Jess continued five more steps to the back door, stooped to pick up her boots and ever so slowly turned the knob. She sneaked across the garden in her socks. It was a clear night and the half-moon cast an eerie glow over the yards. The night air was soft and moist. Guilty as she felt, she did love a night ride.

  ‘Good boy, Dodger,’ she whispered as she neared the yard. She fetched her saddle, slung it over his back and tied her swag behind. Then she slipped on his bridle and led him out into the grazing paddock. If she rode him along the road her parents might hear the hoofbeats. She would cut through the paddock, along the river flats towards town and then up the road to Harry’s place. Luckily, Dodger was unshod and his footsteps wouldn’t clang too much.

  A cool breeze tickled the back of her neck, bringing smells of freshly slashed grass with it. She drew alongside the Broadhead property, which was mostly bushland and tall forest. It had trails going through to the main road, but she didn’t know them well enough to avoid the house. And the Broadhead family had yappy little terriers that would certainly let the whole town know if someone was snooping around. Tegan Broadhead was Katrina’s best friend, and would jump at the chance to dob Jess in.

  She rode until she came to the bridge that led into town. There was an old drover’s gate from years ago that Lawson had told her about, hidden somewhere in the trees, which would help her bypass town. She found it without too much fuss, aided by her torch. Beyond it was the road that led to Annie and Harry’s place.

  Before she got to the front gate, she slipped off Dodger and quietly called up the dogs. Filth and Fang would go off their heads if they heard a stranger at the gate. Filth instantly recognised her voice and bounded towards her, almost bowling her over. Fang growled a low growl, unsure of the midnight visitor.

  ‘Fang,’ she whispered, holding out a hand. ‘It’s just me.’

  He sniffed her hand and then pushed his ears into her hand for a scratch.

  On the side of the road, on a grassy strip, a ute was loaded with hay, saddles and droving gear. She knew Luke planned to leave before sunrise and catch up with Lawson, who had left the previous evening. Luke would be waking within hours, loading Legsy onto the float and heading for mulga country.

  Jess looked to the round yard where Opal and the brumbies had been. It was empty. Lawson must have taken Opal. She was on her way to Blakely Downs. Jess tethered Dodger to the side of the truck and rolled out her swag, then nestled down with the dogs curled up next to her.

  Sleep didn’t come to her as easily as she imagined it would, and she lay there restlessly, listening to the cars driving down that road in the wee hours and wondering where they were going or coming from. Each time one passed she curled up smaller in her swag and hoped no one would think it odd or suspicious that Dodger was tied to the front fence in the middle of the night.

  In between cars, the noises at Harry’s were much like the night noises at home: bats screeching and hovering in the sky like big black birds, crickets chirruping and wind rustling at the trees.

  Jess tried to imagine what Luke’s reaction would be when he found her. He’d get a surprise, all right.

  Dodger’s nickering made her sit up. Footsteps crunched through the dark, along the gravel driveway and through the front gate. The dogs leapt from Jess’s side and cool air replaced their patches of cosy warmth. Metal jingled as the gate latch was removed and replaced.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Luke asked in a cautious tone, pushing away the dogs as they danced excitedly around his feet.

  ‘It’s only me,’ Jess whispered back as she unzipped her swag.

  ‘Hello, only me,’ he said, sounding curious but wary.

  ‘It’s me, Jess.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ Luke still sounded puzzled. “What are you doing in there?’

  ‘I’m coming to Longwood. Can you fit Dodger on the float?’ Jess let herself off the back of the ute.

  ‘Why didn’t you just come up to the flat?’

  ‘I didn’t want Annie to hear me.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Umm, I haven’t told anyone that I’m going.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because they won’t let me go,’ she whispered.

  ‘Jess . . .’

  ‘There’s no way I’m letting Lawson throw Opal onto a station to just live or die,’ she hissed. ‘She’s my filly, not his, and he’s got no right to take her!’

  ‘He still owns her, doesn’t—’

  ‘He does not still own her!’ Jess squeaked. ‘We had an agreement! As soon as Opal was weaned, she was mine. If he won’t take the money for her, then that’s his own stupid fault. He’s taken my filly!’

  ‘He just doesn’t want to sell you a dud horse, Jessy—’

  ‘A dud horse?’ Jess wanted to punch something.

  Fang rushed suddenly to Luke’s side. He sank to his haunches and let out a low menacing snarl.

  The sound shocked her and she took a step back.

  ‘It’s okay, boy,’ said Luke, putting a hand on the dog’s head. ‘He doesn’t like it when people get aggro with me . . . especially with no good reason.’

  Jess took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. ‘I’m not angry with you,’ she said, her voice beginning to quaver. Then she said through her teeth, ‘I’m angry at Lawson.’ She could barely say his name.

  There was an awkward silence, which was soon broken by a confused whimper from Filth. He sidled up to Jess and shoved at her hand with his wet nose. She dropped to one knee and buried her face in his woolly coat, and he wiggled appreciatively.

  ‘I think Lawson also might be worried about the reputation of his mare,’ said Luke. ‘He should be able to get a lot of money for her foals down the track.’

  ‘So he’s worried that Opal might be bad advertising,’ said Jess bitterly.

  Luke shrugged.

  Jess shook her head.

  ‘He’s trying to do the right thing by you, too.’

  ‘What?’ said Jess with disbelief. ‘He’s taken my filly – which I’ve waited more than eighteen months for – and you think he’s trying to do the right thing by me?’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘Why does everyone always stick up for him? Grace is right: the men in your family are chauvinists!’

  Luke folded his arms across his chest and said nothing.

  Tears of frustration rolled down Jess’s cheeks. ‘Are you going to let me come droving or not?’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ said Jess, icily.

  ‘I think you’d be crazy to run away from your parents. And I don’t want you to use me to do it. I could lose my job.’

  ‘I thought you wanted me to come.’

  ‘Not like this.’

  ‘You did it. You ran away.’

  ‘It wasn’t the same.’

  Jess was silent. She was too teary and choked up to speak anymore.

  ‘I’m gonna go and grab Legsy from the stable.’ Luke’s feet crunched away over the gravel and his form was swallowed up by the night.

  8

  JESS RODE BACK UP her own driveway just as the sun was rising. Ripping the saddle from Dodger’s back, she threw it on the ground. She opened the gate into the paddock for him, then hurled her bridle at the saddle as she walked towards the house.

  Caroline came running down the steps with the phone in one hand and a crumpled piece of paper in the other. ‘Yes, Annie, it’s her. She’s home. Thank God for that . . . Yes . . . Yep . . .
Bye, Annie, thanks. And sorry to have bothered you so early in the morning.’

  She turned to Jess. ‘Jessica, what the hell are you playing at? I’ve rung half the town trying to find you. We’ve been worried sick.’ She stopped and looked at her daughter. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’

  Jess didn’t look up from the ground in front of her.

  ‘Don’t ever, ever do that to me again, do you hear me?’ Caroline put her arms around Jess’s heaving shoulders, and swore as she rubbed her back. Craig came marching across the front garden but his wife held up a hand. He surveyed the situation, did an about-turn and went back up the steps.

  ‘Everyone’s sticking up for Lawson,’ Jess cried, wiping her nose on Caroline’s dressing-gown sleeve. ‘They think Opal’s a dud horse. They’re just going to let her go out onto a station and die.’

  ‘Crikey, Jess,’ said her mother. ‘It’s one thing for a foal to die, but it’s entirely another for you to. Anything could have happened to you. How the hell did you intend to get to Blakely Downs on your own?’

  ‘I was going to go with Luke.’ Jess started sobbing. ‘But he wouldn’t take me. He’s mad at me.’

  ‘You can’t drag other people into your troubles,’ said Caroline. ‘He was right to send you back home.’

  ‘But he did it. He ran away,’ sobbed Jess. ‘I thought he would understand.’

  ‘Luke was a troubled kid, Jess. You can’t begin to compare his life with yours.’

  ‘No, because he’s a boy and I’m a girl!’ said Jess angrily. ‘He comes home a hero and gets given an expensive colt, and I get my filly taken off me!’

  ‘He’s also two years older than you, Jess.’

  ‘No, he’s not. I’m nearly sixteen.’

  ‘You’re not sixteen yet, Miss Fairley, and you’re most certainly too young to be driving off around the outback with an older boy. Especially one with a past like Luke’s.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘He’s a wild boy with a wild past,’ said Caroline. ‘I’m worried about this friendship you have with him, Jess. I don’t like it.’

  ‘Why?’ demanded Jess. ‘Just because he has no parents? You pretend to be all open-minded and peace, love and lentils, but you’re not. You’re as judgemental as anyone else. You’re such a hypocrite!’