then bent down and cut the rope from around the pig’s legs. He gave it a swift kick. Grunter scrambled to his feet and scampered away, squealing noisily.
As Lawson drove through the gate, he stuck his head out the window. ‘Tell the old man I’ll come over during the week and have a look at those foals.’ And without so much as a goodbye, he spun his wheels in the gravel and took off out of the driveway.
11
THE NEXT MORNING, Biyanga paced back and forth in his stable, fretting for his pig. Grunter seemed to have gone into hiding after the hogtying incident.
Jess emptied a bucket of feed into his bin. ‘Lose your buddy, mate?’
The stallion’s body shuddered as he gave another long, sad whinny, and he snuffled his nose into Jess’s tummy. Jess scratched his cheeks. ‘I know just how you feel, fella,’ she said.
‘He gets so het up without Grunter around,’ said Harry from behind her.
She spun around. ‘Do you think he’ll come back?’
Harry opened the stable door and came in to console his horse. ‘Yeah, I know he’s around somewhere, because half of Annie’s garden is missing,’ he said. ‘I just hope that I find him before she does, or he’ll end up as a Sunday roast.’
‘You wouldn’t let that happen, would you, Harry?’
Harry shrugged. ‘Not my call, kiddo. It’s Annie’s pig.’ He ran a hand over Biyanga’s shoulder. ‘And she does love a bite of fresh pork – roasts it in the Kanga Cooker, all dripping with juice and crackling; pretty tasty.’ He gave Biyanga a scratch around the ears and chuckled. ‘They gotta catch him first, though, don’t they, boy?’
‘Is Ryan your son?’ Jess asked, remembering the conversation between Harry and Lawson, but not sure if a kid was supposed to ask an adult that sort of stuff.
Harry didn’t seem to mind. ‘Ryan is Annie’s boy. He grew up with Lawson. But there’s been a rift between them for a while.’ A look of disappointment crossed his face. ‘And now Lawson’s got his nose out of joint because I let Ryan ride Biyanga in a few campdrafts.’
‘I wouldn’t let someone on my horse either if they were mean like Lawson,’ said Jess without thinking. Then she looked up at Harry in alarm. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Didn’t know you had a horse, Jess,’ said Harry, ignoring her comment.
Jess picked up the empty feed bucket and turned away from Harry. ‘So Ryan’s not Lawson’s brother at all, they’re just stepbrothers?’ she asked, trying to steer the conversation back to Lawson. Anything would be better than talking about her own tragic horselessness.
‘You got a horse, have you?’ Harry repeated.
‘My horse . . .’ Jess took a deep breath, ‘ . . . is dead.’ She made her way to the stable door and let herself out, thinking that would surely end the conversation.
But Harry followed her out into the stable aisle. ‘How’d it die?’ he asked, as he coiled Biyanga’s halter and rope and hung them on a hook on the wall.
‘She got stuck in a cattle grid,’ said Jess, tossing her grooming tools into their bag. She saw the realisation wash over his face and instantly knew that he had heard about it. Everyone heard about everything in this town, especially in horsey circles.
‘Oh geez, John Duggin told me about that,’ said Harry, his voice softening. ‘He said it was awful. You poor bloody kid.’ Harry grabbed a bucket, turned it over and sat down on it, then reached out for a second bucket, flipped it over and motioned for Jess to join him. He fumbled in his pocket, found a small container of toothpicks and rattled them about, coaxing one out while he waited for her to be seated.
Jess dropped her bag, wandered over and made herself comfortable on the bucket. Maybe he knew what had happened and he was going to tell her about it.
‘I had a horse called Bunyip for thirty-two years.’ Harry leaned forward on the bucket and began excavating a tooth. ‘He was my first horse, and by
As Lawson drove through the gate, he stuck his head out the window. ‘Tell the old man I’ll come over during the week and have a look at those foals.’ And without so much as a goodbye, he spun his wheels in the gravel and took off out of the driveway.
11
THE NEXT MORNING, Biyanga paced back and forth in his stable, fretting for his pig. Grunter seemed to have gone into hiding after the hogtying incident.
Jess emptied a bucket of feed into his bin. ‘Lose your buddy, mate?’
The stallion’s body shuddered as he gave another long, sad whinny, and he snuffled his nose into Jess’s tummy. Jess scratched his cheeks. ‘I know just how you feel, fella,’ she said.
‘He gets so het up without Grunter around,’ said Harry from behind her.
She spun around. ‘Do you think he’ll come back?’
Harry opened the stable door and came in to console his horse. ‘Yeah, I know he’s around somewhere, because half of Annie’s garden is missing,’ he said. ‘I just hope that I find him before she does, or he’ll end up as a Sunday roast.’
‘You wouldn’t let that happen, would you, Harry?’
Harry shrugged. ‘Not my call, kiddo. It’s Annie’s pig.’ He ran a hand over Biyanga’s shoulder. ‘And she does love a bite of fresh pork – roasts it in the Kanga Cooker, all dripping with juice and crackling; pretty tasty.’ He gave Biyanga a scratch around the ears and chuckled. ‘They gotta catch him first, though, don’t they, boy?’
‘Is Ryan your son?’ Jess asked, remembering the conversation between Harry and Lawson, but not sure if a kid was supposed to ask an adult that sort of stuff.
Harry didn’t seem to mind. ‘Ryan is Annie’s boy. He grew up with Lawson. But there’s been a rift between them for a while.’ A look of disappointment crossed his face. ‘And now Lawson’s got his nose out of joint because I let Ryan ride Biyanga in a few campdrafts.’
‘I wouldn’t let someone on my horse either if they were mean like Lawson,’ said Jess without thinking. Then she looked up at Harry in alarm. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Didn’t know you had a horse, Jess,’ said Harry, ignoring her comment.
Jess picked up the empty feed bucket and turned away from Harry. ‘So Ryan’s not Lawson’s brother at all, they’re just stepbrothers?’ she asked, trying to steer the conversation back to Lawson. Anything would be better than talking about her own tragic horselessness.
‘You got a horse, have you?’ Harry repeated.
‘My horse . . .’ Jess took a deep breath, ‘ . . . is dead.’ She made her way to the stable door and let herself out, thinking that would surely end the conversation.
But Harry followed her out into the stable aisle. ‘How’d it die?’ he asked, as he coiled Biyanga’s halter and rope and hung them on a hook on the wall.
‘She got stuck in a cattle grid,’ said Jess, tossing her grooming tools into their bag. She saw the realisation wash over his face and instantly knew that he had heard about it. Everyone heard about everything in this town, especially in horsey circles.
‘Oh geez, John Duggin told me about that,’ said Harry, his voice softening. ‘He said it was awful. You poor bloody kid.’ Harry grabbed a bucket, turned it over and sat down on it, then reached out for a second bucket, flipped it over and motioned for Jess to join him. He fumbled in his pocket, found a small container of toothpicks and rattled them about, coaxing one out while he waited for her to be seated.
Jess dropped her bag, wandered over and made herself comfortable on the bucket. Maybe he knew what had happened and he was going to tell her about it.
‘I had a horse called Bunyip for thirty-two years.’ Harry leaned forward on the bucket and began excavating a tooth. ‘He was my first horse, and by
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