Race Girl by Leigh Hutton Page B

for, eh?’
    Tully smiled. ‘I can’t wait to go riding with you tomorrow.’

11
    A Western Lope

    Tully squinted and raised a hand to shield her eyes as they approached Tam’s paddocks the next morning. They’d slept in and Tully was groggy and blinded by the light of day – she normally enjoyed dawn and the sunrise before being assaulted by the sun’s heat. Judging by the sizzling on her arms and legs and the weight of the air, today was going to be a scorcher.
    As she made her way hazily through the garden and across the back yard to the paddocks, Tully had to blink to confirm what she was seeing was real. Yep , the strange horse was still there in front of her. He must have strayed from home, she supposed. A tall bay thoroughbred, a scaled up version of Dahlia, munched on a flake of hay in the nearest corner of the closest paddock.
    Tully glanced back over her shoulder, a familiar feeling of panic gripping her chest. She cursed herself for forgetting in all the girly banter of last night that she hadn’t checked in with Grace. ‘Sorry, Tam,’ she said, sprinting back to the house. ‘Be right back!’
    She found her phone in her school bag that she’d packed for the night and dialled Avalon’s office number. Grace answered on the second ring, and said Dahlia was doing splendidly; enjoying her second breakfast. Tully let out a long breath, then studied a pic of Dahlia she’d snapped on her phone, before jogging back out to Tam. ‘Sorry,’ she said, pointing at the bay. ‘Who is this?’
    â€˜Thought I’d give him a go ’round the barrels.’ Tam spun around and raised an eyebrow. ‘Nah—Mum’s just become a foster carer for horse-welfare charity, Equine Action Queensland.’ The girls walked over to his paddock and the horse raised his lovely bold face, walking right up to them.
    â€˜This is Ziggy,’ Tam said, stroking the bay on the nose, then grabbing his neck in a bear hug.
    â€˜Wow—hey, mate,’ Tully said, pulling a carrot out of her back pocket and breaking it in half. Tam had leant her a pair of old sparkly jeans and a pink button down shirt with a white collar. Tully had slipped her phone into her jeans’ pocket for their ride just in case anyone from home needed her. ‘Aren’t you a handsome dude.’
    The gleaming thoroughbred chomped up the carrot gratefully. Judy joined them at the rail and Ziggy nuzzled her affectionately and stopped chewing for a moment, looking deep into her eyes with love and a deep appreciation.
    How beautiful , Tully thought, a warm fuzziness sweeping over her, settling in the soft smile on her lips. She loved being here, but she couldn’t wait to get home to Dahlia.
    â€˜He’s my first charge,’ Judy said, giving Ziggy a rub behind the ears. ‘He’s been with the group for about nine months, and he’s ready for adoption now—but I don’t know if I’ll be able to let him go.’ She paused and a dark shadow drifted across her face. ‘Ziggy is an off-the-track thoroughbred. He suffered an injury to his off-hind leg, and was bought off the track by a person who wasn’t able to look after him . . . There is so much wastage in your industry, I’m afraid, Tullsey.’
    â€˜Wastage?’ Tully had never heard the term before.
    Judy shook her head and reached down to slip Ziggy another flake of hay. ‘I’m sure you know that thousands of horses – about 70 percent of the twelve to fourteen thousand thoroughbred foals born every year here in Australia alone – never make it to the track.’
    Tully nodded gravely. ‘A lot of horses get injured, or just aren’t fast enough. That’s why we retire our own horses, and try our best to find them new homes so they can still enjoy a quality of life in a different discipline, or for pleasure riding—’
    â€˜Even when they’re