she paced about the yard.
Over the next week the filly gradually stopped pacing, and stood sour-faced in a corner by herself.
As Jess stood by the yard gate, Luke walked out of the stables with a bucket of tools in one hand. He seemed even lankier than when she last saw him, and his rusty brown hair was as wild as ever. He still lived at Harryâs, helping Annie to take care of the place in return for his keep. Lawson had helped him convert a couple of the stables into a flat.
âHowâs she going?â he asked, as he joined her at the gate.
âAnytime I try to go in there she just rushes at me,â said Jess. âI canât get anywhere near her.â
âDonât forget sheâs only just been weaned. Sheâs had a rough week,â said Luke.
âI wish sheâd eat a bit more. Sheâs so skinny.â Jess watched Opal cower behind the other horses in the yard. She had tried to tempt the filly with everything from bran mashes steeped in molasses to small portions of oats. Opal remained uninterested.
âSheâll put weight back on when she goes out onto the station and settles in a bit more.â
But Jess knew it was more than just weaning. Something was wrong. It wasnât Opalâs body that was sick. It was her spirit. âI donât want her to go,â she said, ânot while sheâs so . . . miserable.â
âSheâs not happy, thatâs for sure,â Luke said, pulling out his chaps. He swung them around his waist and began to buckle them over his jeans. âDo you want me to give Dodger a trim?â
âSure, thatâd be great.â Jess opened a stable door and pulled Dodger out. In the next stable, Lukeâs two wolf-dogs whimpered and barked. Filth stuck his wet nose between a gap in the doors and Fang howled. With their huge feet and soft, shaggy coats, they were like bears, the most huggable of dogs. âCan I let them out for a run?â
âYeah,â Luke shrugged.
Jess unlatched the door. She threw a stick for Filth and Fang and laughed as they gambolled clumsily after it. She swung Dodger around and stood him up for Luke. âThanks for doing him on your day off.â
âNo biggy,â said Luke, reaching for a hoof.
Jess sat on an upturned bucket and let Dodger put his big head in her lap. She scratched his forehead while she watched Luke work.
Luke reached a hand out behind him. âPass me the trimmers?â
She peered into his toolbox and rummaged around. âThese ones?â
âYep.â Luke grabbed them and got to work on the hoof.
âLawson reckons Opalâs got a bad temperament,â said Jess. She grabbed a rasp and held it out, anticipating his next request.
âTa.â Luke reached back and took it from her hand.
âBut itâs just all this forceful handling sheâs had,â said Jess. âItâs teaching her to hate people.â
âSheâll be okay with the right handling. Harry always said, âThe younger they are, the more you can turn them around.ââ
âWish Harry was here now so he could tell me what to do,â Jess said, almost to herself.
Luke spoke from under Dodgerâs belly, still cheerful. âYeah, he wouldâve known what to do with her.â He finished the front hoof, dropped it, ran a hand over Dodgerâs hindquarter and picked up the next one.
âHarry was like a father to you, wasnât he?â
âYep,â said Luke, snipping away at the hoof.
âWhereâs your real dad?â
Luke kept snipping for a while before he answered. âHarry was my real dad.â
âI mean your biological dad.â
âDonât know, donât care,â Luke said in a neutral sort of voice.
He didnât offer anything more, and Jess wasnât sure whether to push it, because she couldnât see his face. She had never heard anything about Lukeâs real family,
Lightnin' Hopkins: His Life, Blues