Race Girl by Leigh Hutton Page A

something hard pressed against her chest. She sat up, reaching into the breast pocket of her shirt— I’m still in my work uniform?!
    Tully pulled out the little bay horse that Tam and Judy had given her that afternoon. So like Dahlia . . . she thought, a strange prickling feeling racing over her skin. She smiled at the tiny horse, then glanced back out the window, checking again on Dahlia and Greg.
    Tully’s eyes finally closed, her body engulfed by exhaustion. She kept hold of the figurine, turning it over and over in her hands, and managed to force her eyes open for one more moment. The filly’s sleek body glistened in the light of the moon and the twinkling of the stars. Suddenly her mother’s words, a comment Tully was sure she had long forgotten, drifted into her mind . . . ‘All it takes is one great horse to change your life.’
    Tully fell asleep praying Dahlia would be the one for her, and that she would be the girl for Dahlia.

9
    Strength and Passion

    Tully hit the snooze button when her alarm went off just two hours later, dozing for fifteen minutes before the motorcycle revving sound started up again. Bear stirred beside her, licked her face. Tully couldn’t be sure how many times she hit snooze. She eventually rolled over to avoid Bear’s wet tongue. ‘Ouch!’ she cried, pulling the little horse out from underneath her face.
    Dahlia!
    â€˜Crap!’ She set the horse gently on her table, snatched up her phone. 4.15am. ‘Oh, bugger— bugger! ’ Bear leapt down to the floor and scampered off towards the kitchen. Tully jumped up, groping for the light switch. She managed to pull on a pair of shorts, change her shirt and find two socks of about the same style and colour.
    Tully ran down to the stables in the dark humidity, sweat already beading on her skin. She slowed to a walk when Dahlia’s face emerged from the darkness, took a quick breath and smiled. Dahlia whinnied once at Tully and tossed her nose, her ears pricked forward in an excited, welcoming, gimme-more-of-that-tucker-girl way.
    â€˜Nice new horse,’ Grace said, winking at Tully from Rosie’s stall at the end of the row.
    â€˜Thanks so much, Grace,’ Tully said, freeing some of the anxiety in her chest with a short expulsion of air. ‘Seen Dad about?’
    â€˜Not yet, matey.’
    Tully’s stomach lurched as she remembered the fight with her father last night. She stopped in front of Dahlia’s stall and a sick heavy guilt churned in the pit of her stomach – strong enough to nearly knock her on her butt. ‘Right. Well, maybe we shouldn’t have . . .’
    â€˜Don’t waste your time with regret, doll—’ Bucko clapped her on the back as he came up behind her— ‘Ya got an extra one to feed and muck out now, and this one’s in desperate need of some TLC.’
    Tully’s father came down just as the first grey light of dawn crept into the valley, his sunglasses on and a mug in his hands. He walked straight past Tully and Dahlia to the office, and spent at least ten minutes ranting at Bucko, calling him pretty much every foul name Tully had ever heard – and some she hadn’t.
    When the yelling ceased, Tully took cover in Dahlia’s stall, but her father must have sensed she was there. ‘Don’t think you can hide from me,’ he said over the stall door. ‘You brought this horse here, so you’re responsible for her. Want to make adult decisions? Now you’ll have to face adult consequences. You feed her, you pay for her, you look after her. I don’t want you riding, and I can tell you that you’ll never wear the Athens colours—they will never be worn again.’
    Tully held her breath, sinking down lower in the bedding of the stall. Dahlia kicked the back wall and reared towards her father, ears pinned.
    He smacked something – sounded like his hand – on the stall