Beginner's Luck Read online

  Lindsey nodded, but Shelby could tell that Lindsey knew she was lying.

  Shelby noticed a coil of wire strapped to the side of Lindsey's stock saddle.

  'What's that?' she asked, pointing.

  Lindsey looked down at the wire as though she was seeing it for the first time. 'Oh. I found it in the middle of the trail back there. It looked dangerous, so I picked it up.' She looked back at the tunnel again and frowned for a moment.

  Shelby had been along that trail not so long ago and she hadn't seen any wire. Usually if the girls found something dangerous on a trail they dismounted and moved it, but Shelby had never taken anything with her. If she'd found a roll of wire like that she probably would have hung it on a branch of a tree, out of harm's way. Lindsey had a strap on her stock saddle for that kind of thing, but Shelby still thought it was odd. She thought Lindsey was lying too.

  'You know you shouldn't go in storm water drains, don't you?' asked Lindsey. 'It's really dangerous.'

  Shelby snorted. 'Yeah!' She put her foot in the stirrup and threw her leg over Blue's back.

  'Even when it's dry,' Lindsey added. 'It might be raining somewhere else, and the water will flood along here before you know it.'

  'Do you want to go back together?' Shelby asked, changing the subject.

  Lindsey's eyes flicked back to the tunnel for just a second. It was so fleeting that Shelby wondered if she'd imagined it. 'OK. I don't know why I'm out in this weather anyway.'

  They rode side by side along the trail towards the back paddock of the stables.

  'Erin said you're thinking about doing the Matchstick Challenge this weekend,' Lindsey said.

  Shelby nodded. 'Are you?'

  'It starts from our back gate. I usually take a group from the riding school, but we haven't had any bookings this year, so I get to go by myself. I'm glad. The beginners can get kind of boring after a while. Erin said we could all ride together.'

  Shelby looked down at her hands. She wanted to bring up the issue of the money, but she didn't know how to begin.

  'Mum said Blue's moving in with us,' Lindsey said.

  Shelby grunted.

  'I didn't think you'd be too happy about that.' Lindsey grimaced. 'I know what it's like. I have my favourites too. Sometimes I see some cowboy turn up and I don't want to let him near any of my babies. You get used to it. At times it can be nice. You see some little girl who's never ridden before having the time of her life. It's easy to forget how fun riding can be when you do it all the time.'

  They reached the gate and Lindsey slowed, letting go of the reins to unfasten the latch and steering the palomino through the gate using only her legs. Lindsey rode naturally, as though it was just as comfortable as walking.

  'How many horses do you have?'

  'Eighteen,' Lindsey replied. 'At the moment. We don't use them all yet. Some have come from bad places. They're in pony rehab.'

  Shelby nodded. 'You know what you're doing, don't you?'

  Lindsey looked back at her solemnly. 'I've been doing it all my life.'

  If Shelby had to trust Blue to anyone in the world it would be Lindsey. The trouble was, it wasn't going to be Lindsey doing the riding.

  10 Signing Up

  On Saturday morning Shelby saddled Blue and set out to the meeting point at the back gate of the stables. It was a mild day so she had decided to wear her dark green jodhpurs and a black tee-shirt. Blue's tobiano hide would be difficult to disguise, but at least she would be a little bit camouflaged when she tried to sneak away.

  Shelby hummed the whole way. Her whole life was going to be better after today. She had a little vision of how it was going to be.

  Her parents would drop her off each morning and she'd walk between the stable blocks. All the people would smile and say hello, and she would wave back, not as a visitor, but as one of them – a paying customer.

  Just beyond the arenas were the spelling paddocks. Blue would be there waiting for her. He would be the most popular pony and all the other horses would want to hang out with him near the dam, or under the shelters.

  Lindsey's mum would call to her from the office window. 'Morning, Shel.' She would call her 'Shel' because they would be so familiar. 'Can you take Diablo's rugs off?'

  'No problem,' Shelby would say.

  Standing seventeen hands, Diablo was massive and scary, but also shiny and beautiful. Lindsey's mum never let anyone else handle him – not even Lindsey – and Shelby didn't really want to either. She had always feared that he would pin her to the side of the yard, squash her flat and stomp all over her, like an industrious cook with a meat tenderiser – but not in this daydream. This morning she imagined that he would become gentle and responsive to her, and they would form an unbreakable bond, like in The Black Stallion.

  Stallion owners would come from all over Sydney, and then New South Wales, and then the world, to see if she could help tame their feral monster stallions, and she would go to them (always flying first class, until she got her own jet), and hold out her hand. The stallions would be nervous at first, but she would look them in the eye, and they would become trusting and compliant.

  They would do a special on her on Today Tonight, and Naomi Robson would ask, 'Shelby, why is it that you can tame any horse that you come into contact with? Is there a special technique that you use?'

  Shelby would blush. 'No, Naomi. It's not something that you can learn. I suppose it's a bit like telepathy. I think I was born with it.'

  Then Naomi would look into the camera with an admiring and slightly surprised expression on her face that told the audience she'd had a conversation with someone unique in the world.

  After that her teachers would never bug her about handing her assignments in on time because they would understand that she had a special gift, and an obligation to share it.

  The back paddock was crowded with horse trucks and floats in raggle-taggle rows. They were different from the kind she had seen at the horse shows. Many of them had open tops, like cattle trucks, and the horses tied to the sides were in stock or western saddles. They didn't look like show horses either. There were Arabs, stock horses and chunky quarter horses. Their reins weren't buckled in the middle but long, loose rope reins, hanging down on either side of their shoulders.

  The saddlery had set up shop in a marquee near the fence, and beside that there was a caravan serving coffee and ready-made sandwiches in wedge-shaped plastic packages. Not far away there was a three-sided tent with a barbecue inside. There was a man setting out red, brown and yellow sauce bottles with white squirt tops on a table to the side.

  Near the gate there was a fold-out table with a hand-written paper sign taped to the front, saying 'Gully Riders' Club. Entry forms and raffle tickets here'. Two ladies were handing out clipboards, collecting people's entry fees and selling raffle tickets. There was a pile of disposable cameras on the bench, which the ladies were handing out to each of the contestants. Shelby tied Blue in the shade of a tree and then stood in line.

  At the front of the queue there was a man in an Akubra hat arguing about wearing a helmet.

  'I don't even own a helmet!' he protested.

  'No helmet, no entry,' said the lady. 'Go and buy one. The saddlery's over there.' She pointed to the marquee.

  'Yeah? And what sort of a payback are you getting?'

  The woman shook her head. 'It's about insurance, Dave. We can't hold these events without it.'

  When it was Shelby's turn at the table she saw the man marching away from the saddlery marquee with a white skullcap strapped to his head. His face was red. He kept his eyes to the ground, and covered one side of his face with his hand.

  The lady raised an eyebrow at Shelby. 'Better to die of embarrassment than severe brain damage.' She handed Shelby a clipboard. There was a pen tucked under the clip. 'Take this to your mum or dad to fill out.'

  'They're not here,' Shelby said. 'But they said it was OK.'

  'You have to be over eighteen or have a parental consent form,' said the lady.

  Shelby didn't know what to do. Her plan was about to fall apart. She was out of ideas and running out of time.

  'It's not fair!'

  'Jeez, they're all feisty today,' she remarked to the other lady. 'You can still buy a raffle ticket, darl,' she said.

  'No,' said Shelby. 'I need to win the thousand dollars.'

  The lady laughed at her. 'Nobody wins those prizes. It's just cheap advertising. You're not going to find the Matchstick Town. It doesn't exist. It's a metaphor.'

  'A what?' asked Shelby.

  The woman sighed. 'Everybody knows this is just a fundraiser for the club.' The lady picked up one of the cameras. 'We use these photos for our newsletters and the website.'

  'I want to enter properly, just in case,' said Shelby.

  'Then go and get a signature. I'm sorry, but I can't talk to you any more. There are people waiting.'

  Shelby took the clipboard and walked away. She saw Lindsey standing near the caravans and moved towards her, glad to see a familiar face. 'You won't believe it. They won't let me enter. I need a permission slip.' She rubbed her forehead with her hand.

  'It's no biggie, Shel. Why are you so worried? You can ride through the Gully any day of the week.'

  Shelby scuffed the ground with the heel of her boot. She could tell Lindsey why it was so important. Of all people, Lindsey would understand the most. But Lindsey and her mother weren't rich like the Crooks either. Lindsey might have things that she wanted to buy too, or problems that a thousand dollars would fix. What if it came down to a race? Even putting the money aside, would their friendship survive a for-real contest?

  Lindsey was a better rider than Shelby, especially out in the bush, and she had eighteen trail riding horses to choose from. If it did end up in a battle between them, Lindsey would win.

  Shelby shrugged. 'I don't care really. I just thought it would be fun.'

  'Why don't you ask Mrs Crook to sign it for you? She's down at the stables.'

  'That's a great idea!' Shelby ran back to where Blue was waiting and rode him across the paddock to the stables.

  Mrs Crook was in her tack room. Shelby explained her predicament.

  'Don't look at me!' Mrs Crook said, brushing her hands together. 'I think the whole thing is a recipe for broken bones. You've seen them. Those blokes go out there and flog their horses half to death, over bushes and through puddles of muck, and for what? No, my dear. You're best to keep away.'

  Mrs Crook had only one idea about horse riding and that was to bundle horse and rider up as tight as a knot and have them run around in circles. Shelby liked showing, but she enjoyed trail riding too. She knew that Blue had a ball out there in the bush and perhaps the Crooks' horses might have some fun too, if they were given a chance.

  All she was asking for was a little scribble. Shelby's mum had given her permission, so who was Mrs Crook to say that she couldn't go? Shelby wanted to jump up and down and shout, but instead she nodded. 'OK. Thanks anyway, Mrs C.'

  She tucked the clipboard under her arm and headed back towards the starting point. When she got to the end of the laneway she pulled the pen out from under the clip and scrawled 'Marie Shaw' over the dotted signature line. Shelby knew that her mum would have signed it if she had been there.

  It was another lie, but there was no way Shelby was going to let Blue become a riding school pony while there was still a strong chance for her to make things different.

  11 The Shake-off

  Seventy-three riders entered the Matchstick Town Challenge. Shelby was beginning to think that Erin had forgotten, but as all of the horses were lining up near the gate she saw Bandit trotting across the back paddock with Erin onboard, waving and grinning.

  Shelby and Lindsey stood at the gate with their horses side-by-side, waiting for Erin to join them. Lindsey was frowning. She asked, 'Hey, Shel, if I said "Ida" would that mean anything to you?'

  'What?' Shelby asked. She wondered if Ida was a band, or a singer. Maybe Lindsey had been embarrassed about not knowing Avril Lavigne after all.

  Lindsey shook her head. 'Doesn't matter.'

  'Phew!' Erin said as she pulled up between Shelby and Lindsey. 'I nearly didn't make it.'

  Lindsey was riding an energetic chestnut barrel-on-legs named Cracker. He had a solid crest and a thick mane on top that stood straight up like a Mohawk. Shelby guessed he was around 12.2 hands high. Lindsey's feet hung low beneath his belly.

  'I thought you didn't like riding the little ones,' Erin commented.

  'I don't!' replied Lindsey. 'But I have to ride them all every now and then, otherwise they pick up bad habits.' Cracker reefed at the reins, trying to reach the grass beneath his feet. 'Like that,' she added.

  At midday one of the organisers opened the gate and let the contestants through. Some belted off at a fast canter. Others, like the three girls, dawdled along behind the horses that had gone through before them.

  'Which way shall we go?' asked Shelby. She had tucked the instant camera into her waistband and it was digging into her side. Erin had such long skinny legs and oversized jodhpurs that her camera fitted into her pocket. Lindsey hadn't bothered to take one, even though her saddle rug had a pocket in it. Shelby wished she had one like that.

  'Let's go down to the causeway and through the dippers,' suggested Erin, referring to the tiny peaks and valleys where the trail ran parallel to the creek and passed through a number of small streams and deep puddles. In summer the girls would often ride there because it was shady and the breeze over the water made it cooler.

  The creek wound right through the middle of the Gully. Shelby's storm water tunnel was at the far end. She searched through each of the trails in her mind, trying to think of a place where she could lose the other two girls.

  They steered around a group of older ladies. Erin and Lindsey went on one side, while Shelby came around the other. I could lose them now, she thought.

  A lone rider on a leggy thoroughbred cantered up behind them. ''Scuse me, coming through,' he said.

  She moved Blue backwards to allow the rider past. There were about six horses between Shelby and the other girls now. 'I'll catch up,' she called out.

  'No, we'll wait,' Lindsey answered. She steered Cracker to the side of the trail and halted. 'We nearly lost you!' she said, when Shelby had caught up.

  'Yeah. Nearly,' Shelby said.

  It seemed as though many of the other riders had the same idea as Erin had, because by the time they reached the dippers, the water in the puddles was muddy and foaming across the top.

  'We know all the trails, and we've never seen this Matchstick Town,' Shelby remarked. 'Maybe we should split up and head straight into the bush.'

  'OK. But we can still go together,' replied Erin.

  Shelby turned Blue off the trail and straight into the scrubby bush to the side. The two other girls followed in single file. Shelby dropped the reins and held out her hands to move the branches away from her face. Blue kept his head low and his ears back, winding between the trees along the path of least resistance.

  Under the horses' hooves the twigs snapped and crackled. As they brushed past the branches, hard little berries and spiky seeds fell from the trees, lodging between Shelby's legs and the saddle. She tried to sweep them off, but she could feel them burying further into the fabric. When she looked up again Blue had just ducked under a particularly thick branch. She shoved at it with both hands, but it was more rigid then the others. She managed to squeeze past it, but it ripped a small hole in the sleeve of her shirt and left a graze on her shoulder.

  'Blue!' she scolded. It was hopeless. Shelby couldn't lose the others while she was in front.

  'Lindsey, why don't you lead? Blue doesn't like being in front.'

  'He's doing all right. Besides, it's good to get them used to being in different positions in the group.'

  Shelby frowned. If she didn't know better, it would seem as though Lindsey knew she was trying to get away. After a while Shelby was covered in scratches, and with all the ducking and weaving to get around the trees, they weren't making much progress. Besides, she hadn't anticipated just how much noise they made. Even if she managed to move beyond sight of the other girls, they would probably be able to hear her. 'This is too hard. Let's go back to the trail.' She turned Blue around and headed back for the trail.

  Just when it seemed hopeless Shelby found her opening. She could hear the drumming of hooves along the trail behind her. Cracker and Bandit hopped up and down on the spot. Blue looked interested, but he wasn't as hyped as the other two.

  Around the corner a group of about five young riders on stock horses came galloping along. Shelby could hear more of them coming up from behind.

  Erin and Lindsey were preoccupied trying to keep their horses calm. Shelby saw Bandit take off alongside one of the racing horses. Cracker was bounding forward too. Shelby whisked Blue's head around and drummed her heels to his sides. 'Let's go!' she said.

  Blue was reluctant, but he trotted along, snorting and huffing, against the tide of horses galloping beside him. She reached the corner and glanced over her shoulder. Lindsey was still in the same place, trying to contain Cracker while he skipped and pigrooted. Her head was swivelling as she looked for the other girls.

  Shelby slipped around the corner, and just before she was out of eyesight she could see Lindsey look in her direction. Lindsey pushed Cracker forward. He was resisting. He wanted to chase the main group, not Blue, but Lindsey made him follow.

  Shelby could stop now, and let Lindsey catch up. She could tell Lindsey that the only way to keep Blue calm was to face him into the herd, and if she didn't believe it, Shelby could make something up. Lindsey might think it was strange, but in all the excitement it would be forgotten.