For Sale or Swap - Alyssa Brugman [23]
None of it mattered now anyway. Who cared what they all thought? She would report Brat stolen as soon as she got home, Brat would be returned to her real owners, and then she would have no horse at all.
11 Cat and Mouse
It was around noon and the cicadas shrieked from the trees above her. Heavy clouds were creeping across the blue sky, making the day duller. Her boots slid across the stones, and a couple of times she nearly lost her footing. Brat trudged along behind her with her head down.
Blue would never have stuck his foot in the stupid fence. The whole time she had owned him he had never so much as put his head through the railings. He would have made quick work of this trip home too – picking his way along the path, jogging along the flat and breaking into a canter up the hills.
Maybe if she'd had the lesson on Blue, Mr Protheroe could have taught her how to stop him tossing his head? He might have shown her some way to make his movement more supple. He would never be a fancy show horse, but he was useful for what she wanted.
Who did she think she was kidding with this dream of showing? She wasn't like Hayley. Her parents would never be able to buy her all the things she would need. If she wanted to show, she would need a float at the very least, and for that they would need a car that could pull it. Her dad would never give up his Spyder just for her hobby.
The whole thing was crazy. She hadn't thought it through, and now she was never going to see Blue again – trusty Blue, who was, after all, everything that she needed in a horse: faithful, affectionate, sensible and practical.
A tear welled in her eye, and she blinked it away. She'd thrown him away like garbage, and for what? Ludicrous daydreams.
She heard a crashing noise through the undergrowth ahead and she stopped, automatically drawing Brat's loose reins tighter. Brat skipped sideways, startled, jerking Shelby's arm. Her ears were pricked towards the noise. There was a scratching sound, and Shelby saw a goanna crawling up a tree through the bushes ahead. She waited until it stopped, gripping the tree with its claws, its closest eye watching them warily, and then she tugged at the reins. 'Come on.'
Brat snorted, stepped forward, and then stopped.
She clicked with her tongue, but Brat resisted, lifting her head up and taking two steps backwards. Shelby felt that surge of fear through her stomach again.
I'm scared of this horse – scared like Hayley. I don't want a fancy horse if it's not going to be my best friend.
The goanna lifted one leg from the trunk. A piece of bark dislodged from the tree and fell to the ground, hitting a branch on the way down and scattering some leaves. It didn't sound frightening to Shelby, but to Brat it was terrifying. She lifted up on her back legs and surged forward, stumbling a little as her hooves hit a rock.
Shelby felt the reins slide through her fingers. She tried to grip them, but they whipped through her hand, burning the skin on her palm. As the buckle whisked through her curled fingers the reins flicked sideways. She reached out to grab them, but Brat leapt away and trotted ahead down the trail. She stopped and turned, watching Shelby over her shoulder.
Shelby stood still, trying to think what to do. Should she rush at her and try to grab the reins, or creep up on her slowly, cajoling, to gain her trust first? If only she knew this horse better.
'Steady, girl,' she said, taking one step forward. Brat stepped out of her reach. The loose reins snagged on a rock. Now was her chance. Shelby took two quick steps forward.
Brat flung her head in the air, lifted her tail, and took off down the trail. The reins swung wildly from side to side, smacking the pony on the shoulders.
Shelby slapped her hands to the sides of her face. 'No, you stupid horse!' she called after Brat, running behind her along the trail. Brat had picked up the pace, her legs moving powerfully underneath her. She took the corner sharply, flicking gravel into the bush, and disappeared from view.
'Whoa, girl,' Shelby called