Moonstone Promise by Karen Wood Page A

let him know you’re all right. Your family got enough sorry business right now, losing the old one like that. Sometimes it’s good to go off and learn with your cousins and your uncles, but then you go back, Luke. They’re your family.’
    A dozen faces flashed through Luke’s mind. Harry, Annie, Lawson, Ryan, all his friends. ‘I’m not blood with them, Bob. I don’t know if they even want me there.’
    â€˜Luke,’ Bob said gently, ‘blood family’s not the only kind of family you can have. Our way, we got all sorts of kinship: skin names, totems. They map out where you fit in life and how you relate to everyone else.’
    â€˜We’re all connected through the horses,’ said Luke. He smiled suddenly. ‘Same way my mob!’
    Bob grinned and nodded. ‘Same way your mob!’
    Bob pointed to a small bay filly. ‘You see that young filly there? The day she comes in season, that old red stallion will kick her out. Out over the hills there, there’ll be a mob of bachelor colts ready to take her in. One of them will take her for himself.’
    He waggled a finger at Luke and grinned. ‘But not until she’s come of age, or until her father says so – you got that bit too?’
    Luke screwed up his nose.
    â€˜Why d’you look like that?’ laughed Bob. ‘You got a girl back home?’
    Luke looked away. ‘Nah.’
    Bob raised his eyebrows.
    â€˜She’s just a good friend, that’s all.’
    Bob stood up and slapped Luke on the shoulder. ‘Let’s go back to camp. Show you how to catch a fish!’

    That evening, Luke held the reel in his left hand the way Bob had shown him. With his other hand, he twirled the hook and sinkers around his head and flung it out to the river. It snapped back at him, narrowly missing Tex’s face and snagging in the tree behind him.
    â€˜Hey!’ said Tex in alarm, reeling backwards. ‘You’re holding it wrong. Turn it out the other way so the line can come off.’
    â€˜Sorry.’ Luke pulled at the line, trying to yank the hook out of the tree. He was determined to catch a fish. He had to. Tyson had eaten every other morsel of food in the camp. The options were either to catch a fish or eat dry noodles.
    â€˜Snagged again ,’ Tex grumbled, tugging at the line from every direction. It snapped and a thread of fishing line hung from the end of Luke’s reel like a broken spider web. ‘I reckon there’s an old stump down there that looks like a Christmas tree with all my lures on it.’
    Luke laid his reel on the bank of the river, then pulled off his shirt. ‘I’m going in.’
    Tyson walked past with an assortment of reels and tackle in one hand. ‘You got those feet connected, boy?’ he enquired, before swinging his fist into Luke’s belly.
    Luke managed to brace himself, but had nowhere near the connection he’d had the other day. He got his breath back and stood straight again.
    â€˜Yep,’ he wheezed.
    Tyson walked on along the riverbank. ‘Big old barra, here I come,’ he said in a sing-song voice.
    â€˜I’m headed north tomorrow, Luke,’ said Bob, squatting next to him. ‘Where you headed? You want me to drop you back in Isa?’
    â€˜What are Tyson and Tex doing?’ Luke asked, hoping they would be staying on the river a while longer. He wanted to keep watching the brumbies, especially Rusty.
    â€˜They’ve both got families and jobs they gotta get back to,’ said Bob. ‘I’ll be mustering up there all week for a local campdraft. I could ask the boss if he’s got any more work.’
    Luke thought about it. He had hardly any money and he was getting sick of sleeping on the ground. Clean clothes would be good, too. He’d been living in the old shorts Bob had given him and not much else. His jeans were beyond redemption. But he wanted to watch the