Fenced-In Felix Read online

  I had two horses to do to Josie’s one, so she finished first. She came over and rested her arms on the edge of Smoke’s stall.

  “You’ve got plenty of space here. You could have half a dozen more horses.”

  I bent to brush dust from Smoke’s foreleg. “Barn space, yes, but the land is poor. It barely supports the six I have now.”

  “How many have you had in the past?”

  “Nine was the maximum, back in the days when I took youngsters for breaking. But that was during the good years, when we had proper wet seasons.”

  “Word is this year could see some good rains.”

  “Let’s hope. Can never rely on it though. I’ve seen the land go for years without real rain, and I’ve seen it under a metre of flood water.”

  I straightened. Josie leant on the door, fiddling with the thong on her hat.

  “I want to ask you something,” she said. “Not sure what you’ll say.”

  “Oh?” I tried to appear open. In truth, I had no idea what she wanted.

  “I like it in Worrindi. The pub’s a good place to be. Nice people.” Her mouth crooked up at one corner. The motion was fascinating. “Believe me, that is not always the case.” Her fingers worried at the thong on the hat. “Anyway, I thought I’d stay around. A while. Maybe a lot longer, if it works out. I told you I have a horse?”

  I nodded, my gaze on the restless movement of her fingers.

  “I’d like to have her near. I was given her. Otherwise there’s no way I’d have bought a horse, not with my lifestyle. But she’s mine, and I’d like to have her somewhere close. Her name’s Flame.”

  Flame. It conjured up a picture of a delicate, feisty horse, quick as lightning with movements of fire. But as tempting as the picture was, I knew I had to say no.

  “She sounds like a beaut horse. But honestly, Josie, I don’t think I can have her here. I just don’t have the grazing. Most likely, I’m going to have to buy hay before long, and that’s very expensive.”

  “I’ll pay for her agistment—I didn’t mean for you to keep her for nothing. I’ve thought about what I can afford.” She named a figure that was generous.

  The money was tempting. With the extra, I could finish up the second cabin.

  I shook my head. “That’s a good offer, but it’s more than you’d pay at other places. But I still don’t think I could do it if I have to buy hay.”

  “If it comes to that, how about I purchase the hay for her?”

  I ducked down to Smoke’s forelegs again to give myself time to think. The dollars marching through my head beat a compelling rhythm, but before I fell on Josie’s neck shrieking “yes!”, I had to give this more thought.

  “I’m a thirty-minute drive from Worrindi. It would cost you to drive out here, and you may not be able to come that often. I’m sure there is somewhere closer to town where you could keep her. If you want, I’ll ask—”

  “No.” She leant forwards, and her face took on a strange intensity. “I want her to be here with you. If you’ll take her, that is. She’s special. I don’t want to trust her to just anyone. I can pay, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “It’s not. I trust you.” And I did. I wasn’t just saying the words. For all her nomadic ways, Josie seemed like someone I could rely on. Maybe I’d wake up one morning with a horse that didn’t belong to me and no way of contacting the owner and no money coming in—I’d heard of that happening to others—but I didn’t think so.

  “I can give you a month up front. I’ll transfer it to your bank if you agree.”

  It was a lot of money for someone earning minimum wage less board in a pub. Maybe she had money put aside.

  “If you take her, I’ll know she’ll be well looked after. Cared for. So many places just throw a horse in a paddock and forget about it until the next bill’s due.” Her head ducked, and she glanced at me from under her hat. “And it would give me an excuse to come out here. To see you.”

  It wasn’t fair of her to play the flirtation card with someone who was obviously interested.

  I stood up again, with Smoke between us, and rested my hands on her withers. “Look, I’ll think about it, okay? I can’t give you an answer now. I need to think about grazing, hay, and things like that.” And about you wanting to see me again. “Will Flame be okay in with the others? I don’t think it will work if she has to be by herself.”

  “I’m sure she will be. Thanks, Felix, for at least thinking about it.”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  She nodded, and with a quick smile, she walked off.

  I watched her go, watched the sway of her backside under those mauve pants, and tried not to think about the fact that she wanted to spend time with me.

  That evening, I sat in Mum’s office and juggled numbers in my spreadsheet. If I had an extra guaranteed income coming in, I could put a lot more into the cabins. It would make a difference. I could go out tomorrow and buy everything I needed for the second cabin from my savings and, hopefully, recuperate it over the next few weeks.

  I removed the money Flame would bring in from the spreadsheet and looked again. Sure, I still had the money I’d set aside to cover repayments in the wet season, but if I used that, then I lost the buffer of safety. I would be flying too close to the wind. If the wet season closed the roads, then I was done like a dinner.

  There was no doubt about it; the money that Josie would pay for boarding her horse would be good.

  I drummed a pen on the desktop. Josie must want Flame here very badly. There were cheaper places closer to Worrindi, places that were easier to get to. But if Josie wanted to spend time with me, as she’d said, she didn’t need to bring her horse from South Australia to do so. She only had to drive out for a ride or invite me into town. We weren’t friends, not yet, but the seeds of friendship were there.

  But all that was irrelevant. What mattered now was that if I took Flame, then it would be a boost to my business and my finances. Josie’s reasons, whatever they were—well, they were her concern.

  I picked up the phone before I could change my mind and called the Commercial.

  She answered the phone on the sixth ring, just as I was about to hang up.

  “I’ll take her.” Too late, I realised I should have said who was calling, what I was calling about. But it didn’t seem to matter.

  “Hi, Felix.” There was laughter in her voice, and in the background, the clink of glasses and loud voices. “You’re talking about my horse?”

  “Yes. If you’re happy to put her in with mine and pay for any extra feed, then I’ll take her.”

  “I’m glad. She’ll be in good hands.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I know you will.” A purr reverberated in her voice. “I’ll call you when I’ve arranged transport.”

  The conversation ended, and I hung up feeling as if I was on the edge of something I couldn’t control.

  CHAPTER 4

  Flame arrived the next week. Josie called me from the pub the day before she arrived with an apology for the short notice.

  “Are you coming to greet her?” I asked.

  Josie’s hesitation was palpable. “I can’t. It’s too short notice, and Madge has to go to the Isa for something, so I have to work. Sorry.”

  “A pity. But I’ll manage.”

  “I’m sure you will. I’m sorry I can’t be there, but I should be able to get down in the next day or so.”

  “Flame and I will be waiting.”

  There was warmth in her voice as she replied, “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Flame. Yeah, that was it. She was looking forward to seeing her horse.

  Josie’s mare arrived in a rickety truck, one designed to carry cattle, not horses. She was tied to the slats, and someone had put a makeshift partition between her and the rest of the empty truck. I walked up the ramp and untied her, noting that whoever had secured her didn’t know much about horses. The knot was as far from quick release as anythi
ng I’d seen.

  Flame wore a rope halter and a rather tatty New Zealand rug—a weatherproof rug that was popular in the southern states. One of the straps was broken and dangled down between her hind legs. She was rather unkempt-looking, and I wondered where she’d been while Josie was travelling. From what I could see of her under the rug, she was a bright chestnut. A thin stripe ran down her face, and she had two white socks at the rear.

  She was pleased to exit the box and clattered down the ramp behind me to stand in the yard, head up, sniffing the wind. Ben, who was in the barn, neighed a greeting, and she responded. I turned to ask the driver where her tack was and other such things as her grooming kit, but he lifted the ramp and walked around to the cab.

  I followed, towing Flame, who didn’t show any inclination to get close to the truck again. I didn’t blame her.

  “Hey,” I shouted, over the noise of the engine. Flame pulled back against me, and I had to shout louder. “Where’s her tack?”

  The driver shrugged. “Dunno. I was just given the horse. There’s nothing else.”

  That didn’t seem right. Josie couldn’t ride her in a halter. It must be somewhere. “Can you wait a minute while I make a call?”

  The driver shrugged again. “Don’t see what good that will do. I was given nothing except the nag and what it stands up in. If there’s supposed to be anything else, it’s been left behind.”

  He had a point, so I circled Flame around some distance from the truck and waited while he pulled away in a cloud of exhaust and a whoosh of air brakes.

  Flame seemed unsettled, so rather than put her in a stall or out in the paddock with the others, I took her for a walk. She was sweating in the heavy rug, so I stripped it off and left it on the rail. Without the cover, she was even more unkempt-looking, as if she’d been left in a paddock to fend for herself for a long time. Obviously, Josie’s friend who’d supposedly been looking after her hadn’t paid too much attention. She was a bit too ribby, her coat was dusty, and her tail was so long it brushed below her hocks. All in all, she didn’t look to be much of a horse. But then Ben neighed again, and her head came up. Her whole posture became one of alertness, and her muscles quivered.

  Suddenly, she was beautiful. Her arched neck and blown nostrils showed the delicateness of the thoroughbred, a throwback to the Arabian horses from which they were bred so many generations ago. Flame quivered again and struck the ground with a hoof. I gave her a bit more rope, and she spun in a tight circle, her tail a banner floating over the dusty yard.

  Oh yes. Get a bit of condition on her, give her some care and attention, and this horse would be a beauty. I wondered how she’d gone in her racing days. Not too well, I assumed, or she’d still be running, or else retired to stud as a broodmare.

  I walked her around the yard a couple of times and then out to the paddock to take a long circuit around the edge of the campground.

  The campers were all new, none of them had been trail riding with me. Maybe seeing a striking horse would be the push they needed to make a booking.

  Flame settled as we walked, and after forty minutes or so, I took her back to the yard and put her in the stall next to Ben with fresh water and a small amount of my precious hay.

  I returned to the house and made a mug of coffee before settling myself at the desk. I sat back in the chair, propped my feet in their odd socks on the desk, and rang the Commercial.

  “She’s here,” I said when Josie answered. “She’s a beauty. Lifted the class of my yard.”

  She laughed. “I doubt it. Not if Patch is there.”

  “She was a bit wound up after her journey, but I’ve got her in a stall next to Ben, who’s a steady influence. She’ll be fine.”

  Josie sighed. “I can’t wait to see her.”

  “One thing, though: there’s no tack with her. Only a halter and a rug. No saddle, bridle, no grooming kit or anything. Were you expecting that stuff to come too?”

  Josie was silent. “I didn’t specifically ask for it. Guess I just assumed it would come with her. That’s going to be difficult.”

  “I’ll see what I have lying around that will fit, but I’m sure you’ll want her proper gear sent up.”

  “I’ll try and contact my friend.”

  “When are you next coming here?” There were voices in the background, and the clack of balls on the pool table.

  “I have two days off starting Wednesday. I thought I’d bring my tent and camp.”

  Two days away. “No worries. I’ll keep her in tonight and turn her out with the others tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks, Felix.” There was a pause while she talked to someone. Then she was back on the line. “I have to go. I’ll email you later so you have my address. If you reply with your bank details, I’ll pay you.”

  Money. There was definitely more to life than money, but the thought sent a fizzle of relief. In the days since I knew Flame was coming, I’d been out and spent a lot of money getting stuff for the second cabin. My bank balance was getting low. If the wet season came early, I’d be in trouble.

  “I’ll do that. See you Wednesday.”

  “See you, Felix.” A click, and she was gone.

  I took a hefty swallow from my mug and nearly choked when the phone rang. Coffee soaked the front of my shirt as I answered. It was an enquiry about the cabins. Two couples travelling together, wondering if I had two cabins available from Friday for three nights.

  Why yes, I told them, I did. As I wrote down their details, I figured it was an omen. Flame must be my lucky charm.

  Wednesday morning was busy for me. The first cabin had been occupied Tuesday night, so I had to clean and make it ready. Three people for a trail ride. And as I was getting the horses ready, one of the campers had come over to the barn to tell me there was a snake in the men’s shower. By the time I’d persuaded the snake to leave with the aid of a broom and reassured everyone it was unlikely to return, I was already late for the ride. Luckily, the father and two sons weren’t put out. Indeed, the teenagers seemed more upset they’d missed seeing the snake.

  They were all capable riders, so the two hours went smoothly, ending with a gallop along Birragum Creek before the final cool-down walk back to the yard.

  I saw Josie’s old red Subaru parked by the barn, but she was nowhere in sight. I figured she was with Flame. She appeared as I was taking all four horses down to the paddock.

  “Here, let me.” She slipped in between the two ponies and took their reins.

  It was a lot easier with only two to manage, and soon they were snorting and moving away from the gate. I saw Flame’s bright coat over in the shade of the mulga.

  “Are you going to bring her in?” I asked. “We can see what tack I’ve got that might fit.”

  She nodded, and we walked across to where Flame grazed.

  Josie caught her. “Hey, girl,” she whispered, running a hand down her horse’s neck. “You’re looking like you need some TLC. Doesn’t look like you’ve had much love lately.”

  Flame snorted and pushed her muzzle into Josie’s hand and got a peppermint in reward.

  We walked back together, Flame between us. Josie rested her hand on the horse’s neck and glanced across at me. “Was she okay when she arrived?”

  I debated telling her about the rickety cattle truck she’d arrived in. How she’d come all the way from South Australia, a three-day drive, in that thing was a bit baffling. But maybe she’d been transferred from a proper horse float closer to here. “Somewhat upset, understandably so. She was the only horse in the truck. They must have offloaded others earlier.”

  “I guess.” Josie scratched the horse underneath her mane, which was tangled and dusty. “Can I borrow some brushes to clean her up a bit?”

  “Sure.” I looked across at the horse. Her thoroughbred lines were unmistakable. “You said she’s an ex-racehorse? How old is she?”

  “Seven. I think.”

  “When did she last race?”

  “I’
m not sure. I think she was turned out for a while before I got her. Just a bit slow, weren’t you, lovely?” She crooned and rubbed a hand down Flame’s shoulder.

  A gust of wind blew the sand into a stinging ribbon of grit, and Flame sidestepped, a prancing pirouette with her tail flaring out behind her. Josie’s grip tightened on the rope.

  Back at the barn, I found some brushes and sorted through my assorted tack. A bridle was easy enough; I had a snaffle bit that should fit and the leather straps would adjust, but a saddle might be a different matter. Flame was narrow, and most of my horses were broader stockhorses, rather than the finer thoroughbred type. Patch was the closest.

  I returned to Josie with Patch’s saddle and the bridle I’d put together from spares.

  “Try this.”

  She seemed a bit tentative as she palmed the bit for Flame to take, but once on, the bridle fit well with only a little adjustment needed. The saddle, though, was hopeless. Even with a pad underneath, it was too wide for the mare and would rub.

  “You could ride her bareback,” I suggested.

  “Yeah.” Doubt threaded her voice. “I’ve never done it. She can be a handful.”

  “If you can wait an hour, I’ll come with you. But I need to check the campground first.”

  Her face lit up, and she pushed her hair back behind her ears. “That would be great, if you don’t mind.”

  “I’ll be back.”

  At the campground, I found the man who’d reported the snake in the shower. He was packing up to leave. His wife sat in the front seat of the camper with the windows rolled up.

  He gestured with his head for me to walk a few paces away. “We’re leaving early. Shirley is terrified of snakes and is afraid to use the shower or toilet in case she finds one.” He held up a hand. “I know. You don’t need to tell me. Anywhere we go, we’re just as likely to encounter one, at least until we’re back in the city.” His lips twisted ruefully. “But she’s never seen one before.”