Moonstone Promise by Karen Wood Page B

brumbies some more.
    â€˜When’s the draft?’
    â€˜Next weekend,’ said Bob.
    â€˜Can I meet you there?’ One more week without money or clothes wouldn’t hurt . . .
    Bob shrugged. ‘Yeah. Tyson’s driving to the shop. I’ll get him to pick up some tucker for you, hey.’ He looked at the reel in Luke’s hand. ‘You might get a bit hungry otherwise.’
    â€˜Hey, reckon you could get me a ride at that draft?’ asked Luke. It was one way to get money – win it.
    Bob pulled a maybe face. ‘See what I can do.’

15
    THE NEXT MORNING , Luke rushed to the edge of the clearing where Tyson was stepping into the big twin cab. ‘Tyson, wait up!’
    Tyson held out his hand and shook Luke’s urban style again. ‘You keep your belly power strong, ay,’ he said, ‘and when you go near them horses, it’ll tell you if it’s a good one or a bad one. If you feel it pulling, follow it. You still connected?’
    Luke grinned and nodded, knowing what was coming next.
    Tyson swung a fist into his belly and, as Luke twisted to deflect it, it connected heavily with his ribs. He staggered backwards. ‘Oh, geez.’ He sank to the ground, clutching his ribs.
    Tyson looked puzzled. ‘Where were your feet, boy?’
    â€˜Ohhh,’ Luke moaned. ‘I think you broke something.’
    Tex pulled himself across the bench seat of the twin cab and peered out the open window. ‘Bloody ’ell, Tyson,’ he grumbled. ‘Whatcha done to the little fulla now ?’
    Luke writhed on the ground. Tyson squatted next to him. ‘I didn’t think I got you that bad.’
    Tex got out of the ute. ‘Let me have a look,’ he said, prising Luke’s hands from his chest and lifting his shirt.
    Luke opened one eye. ‘Is it bad?’ he croaked.
    A wave of seriousness washed over the men as they looked over his ribs. Tex looked perplexed. ‘Can’t tell,’ he said. ‘How many lumps you have before?’
    Luke let out a painful wheeze. ‘Just three,’ he lied.
    Tex, with a look of intense concentration, poked at the various lumps and counted. ‘You got more than that ’ere, now.’ His face turned thunderous and he swore as he slapped Tyson hard across the back of the head. ‘Go ring the flying doctors, now ,’ he ordered. ‘You probably punctured his lung!’
    Luke rolled away from Tyson. He couldn’t keep a straight face for much longer.
    â€˜Can you breathe okay?’ asked Tyson.
    â€˜Just find a phone,’ snapped Tex.
    Luke nearly choked as a laugh escaped him. He tried to mask it as cries of agony. He caught a glimpse of Tyson’s frowning face and couldn’t help chuckling loudly. His ribs had never been so funny before. ‘Gotcha,’ he squeaked.
    â€˜You cheeky little . . .’
    Behind Tyson, Tex hissed and chugged so hard he sounded as though he would split at the seams. Bob leaned against his ute, one hand over his mouth, trying to hide a smirk. But his welling eyes gave him away.
    Tyson walked back to the twin-cab. He yanked the back door open, pulled out his swag and threw it on top of Luke, following it with a bag of instant oats. ‘Here, have some more horse food,’ he said, lobbing them at Luke’s head.
    Luke ducked under the swag and deflected the oats. When he looked out the other side, Tyson was stepping into the driver’s seat.
    The wild-haired man grinned and started the engine. ‘The best teachers learn from their students, ay. You got me a good one.’ He ran a hand gingerly over his left shoulder. ‘You got me a couple of good ones. I won’t forget.’
    â€˜Thanks, Tyson,’ Luke said. ‘You got me some good ones too.’
    â€˜Listen to your belly.’ Tyson winked as he put the ute in gear. ‘It’ll keep you safe.’
    Tex leaned across Tyson. ‘Don’t go