Hot Potato Read online

  'Fantastic,' groaned Lindsey.

  'Sold to the young girl in the orange shirt!' The auctioneer clapped his hands together, indicating that the deal was done.

  Lindsey shook her head. 'I can't believe it. I don't have any money on me. Do you? And we haven't asked Clint if he will truck it. We don't know anything about it. I suppose you want to keep it at my place too. My mum is going to go nuts. I can't believe you just bought a horse!'

  'No, Lin,' corrected Erin, her eyes shining. 'We bought a horse.'

  Shelby still felt the flutter of butterflies in her stomach. The little mare stretched out her neck and softly lipped Shelby's fingers. 'We bought a horse,' she repeated.

  2 Back to the Stables

  The petite chestnut horse reared for the third time and Clint moved to the side, out of range of her hooves.

  'Explain to me again why I'm trying to put this . . .' He searched for a description. 'This animal on my truck?'

  'Mum said if I saw something I liked I should buy it,' Lindsey lied.

  'Yes, I heard that part. I just don't get the part where I'm paying for it.' The horse snorted and skipped around at the end of the lead.

  Shelby stood back, biting her nails. Whoever sold the pony must have transported her to the auction in the first place, so there had to be some way of getting her on a truck.

  'Mum gave me money but I forgot to bring it,' Lindsey explained. 'If we stop at an ATM on the way home I'll get some out for you.'

  It turned out that Lindsey did have savings. Shelby and Erin had agreed to repay her for their portions the next day. Shelby didn't know exactly where she was going to find fifty dollars overnight, but she would work it out later.

  Clint had bought three horses at the auctions – all leggy bay stock horses. They peered at the little chestnut over their shoulders as if to say, 'What's your problem? Hurry up! We don't want to stand here all day.'

  Clint's truck was parked alongside several others in the dirt area that served as a car park at the front of the saleyards. Most of the other people had left already, but a few remained. It was obvious that Clint knew many of the men and women here, and it was also clear that he was embarrassed. Shelby wasn't sure if he was ashamed of the tiny horse, or his inability to load it.

  Clint led the mare in a circle again and then headed for the ramp. She put one hoof on the tailgate and then spun backwards, pulling the lead rope from his hands. He lunged for it and caught it.

  One of the men lounging against a truck nearby cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, 'Why don't just pick it up, mate? Take it home on your lap.'

  'You could fold her up and put her in your pocket,' suggested another man leaning out of his cab window.

  The group in earshot laughed. Clint scowled.

  'I'm surprised that Brenda didn't talk to me about this,' he remarked, bringing the horse around for another try. Clint had been tending to the riding school ponies for many years, so he and Lindsey's mother were old friends.

  This time the pony dug her hooves into the ground, thrusting her head in the air. Shelby could see the whites of her eyes.

  'Maybe you should try that natural horsemanship stuff that you always talk about,' suggested Erin.

  Clint gave her a dark look. 'We're going to be here all night,' he muttered.

  'Hey, Clint,' shouted the man in his cab, 'if you put her in water does she swell to a proper size?'

  'No, no,' said the man next to the truck. 'You pump her up like an air mattress.'

  By this time all of the rest of the horses had been loaded. It seemed to Shelby that the people were only hanging around to poke fun at Clint.

  Shelby and Lindsey exchanged a glance. 'What should we do?' Shelby mouthed.

  'There's nothing we can do,' Lindsey whispered. She was right. None of the girls were more qualified than Clint for this task.

  Erin huffed and sat down cross-legged.

  'Get up,' hissed Shelby. 'He's doing this for you, Erin.'

  'Me? You bought the horse,' she retorted.

  'Shut up.' Lindsey frowned at both of them.

  Just when it was beginning to look hopeless, the little horse bounded up the ramp and into the truck.

  The spectators cheered and clapped. Clint shook his hat at them, shooing them. 'Show's over. Move along. Nothing to see here.' The crowd reluctantly dispersed into their various trucks and four-wheel drives, waving goodbye as they went.

  'See you when you bring that filly back again,' said one of them.

  'Maybe I'll have a go with her next month,' chuckled another. 'I tried miniature trains once.'

  Clint stood with his hands on his hips waiting for them to go and then he sighed.

  'That filly has done this a hundred times before,' he told the girls as he closed the tailgate. 'She's not afraid, she's just plain naughty.'

  'Yes, but she's so pretty!' Erin grinned.

  Clint double-checked the bolts and then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. 'Pretty only goes so far.'

  On the way back to the stables Clint seemed to lighten up. He even laughed when the girls sang along with Gwen Stefani on the radio.

  Shelby and Erin knew the words but Lindsey just sang, 'La, la, la,' along with the tune until she got the hang of it, and then she turned to the other two girls and sang, 'Tick, tock, tick, tock,' waving her hands like robot arms on a clock face. Erin and Shelby cracked up.

  Clint chimed in. 'I'm still a super-hot female!' Which made Erin and Shelby laugh even more.

  When they pulled over for Lindsey to go to the ATM they could hear thumping and bumping in the back. The truck swayed. One of the horses let out a shrill whinny.

  'Let's guess who's making that racket?' Clint said.

  The mood changed quickly. Lindsey climbed back into the cab and handed Clint the cash. He slipped the notes into his wallet and shifted the truck into gear. 'I'm looking forward to hearing what Brenda thinks of this mare you've bought for her. I think I'll stay for a coffee and see what she has to say,' he said, heading out into the traffic.

  Lindsey's face turned bright red. She tried to hide it by looking out the window. 'Mum said she was going shopping this afternoon.'

  'I can wait,' he replied.

  'What about your new horses?' Shelby asked. 'You can't leave them on the truck.'

  'I'll put them in one of the yards.'

  Shelby tried to think of a reason why Clint couldn't stay for coffee. She glanced at the other girls. Erin shrugged.

  The truck rumbled on. Occasionally the pony whinnied and kicked the wall of the truck. They weren't far from the stables now.

  Since Shelby couldn't think of a reason why Clint shouldn't stay, she concentrated on coming up with an excuse as to why they bought the horse in the first place. Perhaps Lindsey's mum wouldn't be angry. She might even like the horse and congratulate the girls on making such an excellent choice.

  Shelby sighed. No matter how good the mare was, Mrs Edel would still think it was irresponsible of them to buy a horse without first discussing it with an adult. At the very least they should have consulted the adult who was actually there.

  But we couldn't ask Clint, Shelby thought. He would have said no.

  She recalled the times she had seen Mrs Edel cross. Lindsey's mum wasn't one of those adults who dished out big punishments, or yelled a lot. She was scary because her trust and respect was hard to earn, and therefore more valuable once you had it.

  When Lindsey broke her collarbone Shelby had started working at the stables every afternoon, and mornings too, when one of her parents could drive her. In return Blue's agistment was free. Now that Lindsey was better the two girls worked together. At first Shelby had been nervous because Lindsey's mum could be abrupt. When Mrs Edel was cranky Shelby felt ashamed, as though she had let herself down even more than she had disappointed Mrs Edel. That was much worse than yelling.

  What would she say when she found out about the pony?

  Shelby glanced over at Clint and he w
inked at her. What did that mean? Did he know they were lying, or was that just a random wink? She tried to remember if he had ever winked at her before. Did he have something in his eye? Should she confess?

  Clint was very easygoing. He might not be cranky about it. He could find a way to break it to Lindsey's mum so that she wouldn't be angry.

  Nobody said anything. Shelby wondered if she was the only one feeling the weight of the silence in the truck. She squirmed in her seat.

  Clint put on the blinker and turned onto Lindsey's street.

  Owning up was probably the best option, before things became any more complicated. Shelby opened her mouth and shut it again. She should really talk it through with the others first. She tried to think if there was something cryptic she could say that only the girls would understand.

  Ouldshay eway onfesscay?

  Clint had been a teenager once. He might know pig Latin. What to do?

  Even now that she'd had time to think about it Shelby still thought buying the pony had been a good idea. She was exactly the sort of pony that Shelby would like to own if she was allowed to have more than one. Now she had one and a third horses – even if it was only for a little while. Shelby was looking forward to calling the pony 'my other horse'. She grinned.

  If only the adults would give them enough time to explain before they went bananas. When the girls sold her they were sure to get twice the price they'd paid – at least!

  They could start their own business buying cheap horses from the sales, doing them up and selling them for four times as much. They could make a tonne of money! Lindsey could teach them how to cut cattle, and walk out properly, and Shelby could handle them on the ground so they had nice manners, and take them out on trails, and Erin could show them how to do flat work in the arena, or jumping. People would line up for all-rounders that were quiet and good for kids.

  They could open the 'Shelinderin Pony Training Stud'. They would have hundreds of acres, and post and rail fencing everywhere. They would have five different arenas and long rows of stables. They would wear joddies and matching chappettes all day. They could have stickers made up for people to stick on the back of their floats that said 'I'm a Shelinderin Pony'.

  People would beg them to hold workshops to show how they do what they do. Shelby would hold talks to a crowd sitting on scaffold seating set up around the edges of the arena – so many people that she had to use a microphone pinned to her collar.

  When she was at shows she would overhear mothers talking to each other. 'There's Shelby Shaw. Did you know she started that horse training business when she was only thirteen years old? The other two girls are very good too, but it's Shelby who masterminded the whole thing.'

  The truck pulled into the driveway and she remembered just how much trouble they would be in if their parents found out what they had done. Lindsey was frowning. It was possible she was thinking exactly the same thing.

  Never mind what Lindsey's mum would think, Shelby's own parents were going to go completely berserk! They didn't have very good imaginations. She could try to explain to them about the Shelinderin Pony Training Stud, but she knew they wouldn't understand.

  They needed to keep the pony a secret or all three of them were going to be in big, big trouble.

  3 A Distraction

  As the truck rumbled up the driveway Shelby could see a silhouetted shape in the office window. That was bad luck. If Lindsey's mum had been out in the paddocks somewhere they might have been able to unload the pony unseen.

  There was still enough time to confess, and to enlist Clint's help.

  'Lindsey's mum didn't exactly . . .' Shelby began.

  Lindsey pinched her hard on the back of the arm, but then Clint spoke at the same moment.

  'I've just remembered . . .'

  It was fate. Obviously she wasn't supposed to tell. 'Remembered what?' she asked.

  'No, you first,' he pressed.

  'It wasn't important,' she said.

  Clint pulled on the handbrake. The truck rocked slightly as the horses shifted about in the back. 'I've just remembered I have something to do at home,' he finished. 'So I can't stay for coffee.'

  'That's a real shame,' said Erin, her grin betraying her words.

  The chestnut mare came off the truck easily and started whinnying the minute her hooves hit the ground. Her neck and flanks were dark with sweat and her eyes were wide. She wheeled about, snorted and pawed at the ground.

  'Shh,' Lindsey said, quickly moving the horse around to the side of the truck out of view of the office window.

  'I'll see you girls later in the week then,' Clint said, climbing back into the cab. 'I've got a few trims to do, and some horses to shift on the weekend. I'm sure to catch up with Brenda at some stage. Good luck with your new pony, Lindsey Lu. She's a little ripper, that's for sure!'

  Lindsey looked at Shelby with panic in her eyes. Once he backed the truck down the driveway, the chestnut mare would be in plain view of the window. Shelby looked around. There was nothing in the driveway to disguise the horse, not even a tree, and the stables were at least thirty metres away.

  'You could run,' Shelby whispered.

  Lindsey shook her head. The mare was worked up already. She might go silly and draw more attention to herself.

  'I'll go and see what I can do,' Shelby said. It was possible that she could distract Lindsey's mother's attention away from the window.

  She sprinted across the driveway and bounded up the steps into the office. 'Hi, Mrs E.'

  'So, did you girls buy any horses?' Lindsey's mum asked, shuffling through papers on her desk.

  Shelby felt her face redden and her pulse race. Was she joking? Had she seen out the window already? What was the right answer?

  'Yep. Sure did,' Shelby improvised. 'Seven truckloads. They should be here any minute.'

  'Good-o,' Mrs Edel said, and she looked back down at her paperwork.

  Shelby waited for some further comment, but when Mrs Edel didn't say anything more Shelby assumed that it had been a joke.

  Through the window Shelby could see Lindsey hauling at the lead rope and Erin waving her hands behind the little pony trying to make her move forward, but she was reluctant, taking dolly steps and shying at each rock and fencepost.

  'Is there something else?' Lindsey's mum asked.

  'Nope. I'm . . .' She searched for an excuse. 'Just enjoying the vibes.' She knew it was cheeky, but at least she was being distracting.

  Against the wall there was a bookshelf full of folders with handwritten spines – Accounts payable, Insurance forms, Agisters 001–049, Agisters 050–099. Shelby inspected them with her hands neatly crossed behind her back.

  There were more folders on the desk. Shelby wondered exactly how many horses lived on the property. If there were more than one hundred agisters, and some people, like Hayley Crook, had more than one horse, then surely Ms Edel couldn't remember them all? What was one little chestnut pony amongst the rest?

  Mrs Edel put down her pen and raised an eyebrow. 'Are you girls up to something?'