Read Online Moonstone Promise by Karen Wood - Free Book Online

like that?’
    â€˜Ah yeah, that,’ said Bob, seemingly mesmerised by the fire. ‘Tex is wary about people with horse dreaming.’
    â€˜Horse dreaming?’
    â€˜Yeah, you got big horse dream kicking around inside you, boy,’ said Bob. ‘The way you walk with ’em like that — ’ He shook his head. ‘ — it’s not normal. Tex’s worried about purri purri – black magic.’
    â€˜ Purri purri? I thought you fellas were good horsemen too. Harry reckoned Aboriginal stockmen were the best around,’ said Luke. ‘Like you.’
    â€˜Yeah, there are big traditions around Aboriginal stockmen, but also big fear of horses, mostly with the older fellas, a lot of lore about them carrying devils in their bellies, being sorcerers or demons, spirits in disguise. Old clever fellas run with ’em, do terrible things.’
    Bob went quiet for a moment. His face, lit by the glow of the fire, was still. ‘It goes back to first contact, back to the massacres. The stories were told to keep the kids away from bad places.’
    Luke stared into the fire. It made him feel uncomfortable, sitting there imagining what his ancestors might have done to Bob’s.
    â€˜My people have a lot of sad stories, Luke. Tex’ll be all right once he works out you’re not playing with magic.’ Bob got up and stretched his legs.
    Luke lay back with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders and gazed up at the stars. Locusts hovered in the light over the fire and he could hear cane toads crashing about in the shrubs and grasses around him. The trees were tall and scrawny without much cover.
    He tried to close his eyes and sleep but his brain kept replaying the fight with Lawson, bringing a surge of shame each time, taking him back to a place that Harry had once pulled him out of.
    After lying there for half an eternity, trying to deflect the sadness with thoughts of wild brumbies, he decided to get up and go for a wander. He walked out beyond the river into a paddock. The moon was rising, full and beautiful, turning the soft darkness of the land into tangles of black and silver. Although unsure of the ground beneath him, Luke set off at a slow jog, aiming for a small range of hills.

    He ran down a little gully and over a stream. On the other side, the long grass swished as he brushed through it. He settled into a steady rhythm and as he began to pant he felt better, so he pushed it out a bit harder, blowing heavier and heavier with every mile he chewed up. It took longer than he expected to get to the line of hills. It seemed that the more he ran towards them, the further away they got, as though they were leading him on a chase. A fence loomed. He grabbed a post and vaulted over to the next paddock.
    There, he saw silhouettes of horses, heads raised, ears alert, ready to flee. Luke slowed to a walk, then stopped and bent over with his hands on his knees, waiting for his breath to slow. A couple of mares ushered their foals away. The other horses resumed grazing.
    Luke quietly approached what looked like an old quarter horse and ran his hand down its shoulder. He felt the broken pelt of a hot brand on its shoulder and wondered what sort of life the horse had had. Had it mustered cattle or been a campdrafting star? Been an old schoolmaster for the kids? He was a gentle old soul, this one. Luke ran his hands over the horse’s neck, put his face against it, breathed in its scent, and felt the tension ease from his body.
    The salty smell of horse sweat brought back images of home: of Legs and all the horses; Harry, limping down the stable aisle and sneaking a fag when he thought no one else was around; the warm sunny days spent training horses, sweeping out feedrooms and unloading trucks of lucerne. He remembered all the laughter and knocking about with Tom, hanging out at the mares’ paddock with Jess, watching the foals play.
    That life never belonged to me,