Race Girl by Leigh Hutton

could see a tear glistening on his cheek.
    â˜…
    â€˜Who the heck is that?’ Tully’s father hollered, stomping in an uneven line down from the house.
    Tully gave Dahlia a pat on the nose, then left her settled with a bit more hay and water in her new stall and walked slowly over to meet him. ‘It’s . . . a filly, Dad. Bucko and I saved her.’
    â€˜And you intend for her to stay here?’
    â€˜She’s got good strong legs,’ Tully said, glancing down at the scuffed toes of her Blundstones. ‘And she’s a real firecracker, even if she doesn’t look it right now. She just needs some loving, Dad. Poor girl.’
    â€˜We need more horses, Gerald,’ Bucko said, joining them in front of the ute and trailer. The yellow night-time lights shone out from the stables, giving the men’s faces a jaundiced glow.
    â€˜This your idea, Kyle?’
    â€˜I’d heard that Dennis came across a decent filly – wasn’t gettin’ on with the boys, and doesn’t have a brand to prove any bloodline, but we got her cheap. And she took to Tully straight away.’
    â€˜He’s right, Dad! She was so happy to leave that place, but then she wouldn’t come out of the trailer for Bucko. She was so good for me, even walked straight into her new stall.’
    â€˜I don’t care if you got her for nothing!’ Gerald turned on Bucko. ‘And why do you keep saying we —this girl certainly won’t be riding it!’
    â€˜But, Dad!’
    â€˜This is all very sneaky, isn’t it, you two?’ Gerald threw his arms in the air, turned for the house. ‘You’re grounded!’ he pointed at Tully, then at Bucko, ‘And you’re sacked!’
    â€˜God, no!’ Tully rushed towards her father, but Bucko caught her by the arm. ‘Let him go,’ he said gently. ‘He’ll see it clearer in the morning.’
    Tully’s stomach churned as she watched her father stalk off to the house, slamming the door behind him. Then she heard a whinny, spun around. Dahlia was standing tall in her stall, pawing at the shavings, tossing her head. A smile tickled Tully’s lips, warming her heart and lifting her soul. ‘Comin’, sweetheart!’ she said, sprinting back to the stable to find an apple and some oats.
    Once Dahlia was happily munching her treats, Tully helped Bucko give her a good looking over. Her legs were clean, miraculously, but she had a nasty long gash to her rump that had been hidden by mud and the dull light of dusk when they’d found her. Bucko got the vet kit out and Tully held Dahlia’s head, feeding her apple and speaking to her softy as Bucko swiftly and skillfully cleaned the wound, then stitched it shut and covered it in amber-coloured iodine-based ointment. They gave her a few flakes of hay and fresh water for the night, and she dug straight in like she hadn’t eaten in a month.
    Tully double-padlocked Dahlia’s stall door that night with a new lock Bucko gave her, and tucked the key in the hidden pocket inside her backpack when she made it to her bedroom at about 1am in the morning. Her whole body buzzed with excitement and disbelief of the day’s events. None of it seemed real – her drive with Bucko out into the river flats – Dennis and his scary yard – the amazingly beautiful filly Tully could now call her own. All too surreal, too extraordinary to be real.
    Tully slipped off her shorts, kicked them towards her dresser, and fell into her bed. She left a hand on Bear, panting happily at her side. She gazed out her window, grinning hugely when she spotted Greg already trying to kiss noses with an unimpressed Dahlia. Greg was getting more comfortable on his leg, and no one had said anything about the bandages. Tully couldn’t wait to have a crack at giving Dahlia a bath and getting her cleaned up.
    She rolled over, cuddling Bear, stroking his soft black ears, but