Dare to Dream, page 2
Marley rested her hand on Pluto’s broad rump, and the pony bucked in irritation.
“I think he wants a race,” she grinned. “Last one into the water does the dishes tonight!”
She set her heels to Pluto’s sides and he shot forward. Van urged her mare to follow, but Covergirl was feeling temperamental, and objected to Pluto’s unfair headstart by rearing straight up. Van clung like a limpet and was left to watch as Marley and her pony streaked into the distance and out of sight.
The trap door creaked loudly, resisting for a moment before swinging open with a crash. Marley pulled herself through the hole and looked around at the dusty interior of the tree house.
“Man, we haven’t been up here in ages.”
“I know! Move your legs, I’m coming in.”
Marley stood up and walked over to the window, pushing the shutters wide open to let some fresh air into the stuffy room as her best friend Mihi followed her up.
“Phew, it’s hot in here!”
“And the bug screens are full of holes,” Marley pointed out. “We’ll have to replace them if we want to sleep up here this summer.”
“We definitely should. I can’t believe we haven’t been up here in so long.” Mihi looked around at the detritus of their childhood – a small table on its side, a broken folding chair, scattered boxes and bits of plastic cutlery – all overlaid with a layer of dust and cobwebs. Marley was kneeling at the window, staring out at Nimble, who was standing in his yard and looking forlorn. Mihi crouched next to her, wrapping her arm around Marley and giving a reassuring squeeze.
“He’ll be okay, Mar. You’ll see.”
“I hope so. But you know what this means, don’t you?” she asked, looking at Mihi, who raised an eyebrow. “Goodbye Pony of the Year.”
Mihi shook her head. “Not necessarily. It’s not like Nim’s the only pony you have.”
“True, but Breeze has only just moved up to the bigger heights, and they still make her really nervous. She’s only just starting to trust me, and I don’t want to push her too far.”
“Pluto could do it,” Mihi suggested loyally of her favourite pony.
“If you can convince him of that,” Marley told her friend, “you’ll be doing a lot better than me. You know how he likes to chuck in the towel when life gets too hard.”
“Well, I can’t see little Daisy jumping in the Grand Prix, so one of them is going to have to,” Mihi replied. “Have a bit of faith in yourself. You’ve trained heaps of great jumpers.”
Marley shook her head. “Nimble was special. Ponies like him don’t just come along every day.”
Mihi shrugged. “Well then, maybe Nim will make an amazing recovery, or his injury might not be as serious as you think. And if none of that happens, it’s not the end of the world. You’ve still got two more years in pony classes.”
“I know. But I wanted to carry on the family tradition.”
Mihi nodded, understanding, and Marley sighed as she walked around the empty treehouse. Kris had won Pony of the Year when she was fifteen, and Van had followed suit three years ago. Ever since that day, Marley had been determined to do the same, and in Nimble, she’d known that she had the pony to take her there. There goes that plan, she thought sadly, then shook her head, trying to clear her melancholy mood.
“Stop moping, Marley,” she chastised herself.
Mihi grinned. “That’s the spirit.” She reached down and picked up a plastic mug from the ground and passed it to her friend. “Now drink a cup of concrete, and harden up!”
Mike came back in a couple of days to check on Nimble. He gave him a couple of injections and checked the wound, which was ugly but seemed to be healing.
“Good news is the wound’s clean, and there’s no sign of an infection,” he told the girls.
“And the bad news?” Van asked.
Mike shrugged. “It’s too early to say whether it will affect his movement. It’s a waiting game now. But you’ve done all you can.” He rubbed Nimble’s forehead and the pony half-closed his eyes. “He’s being a good patient.”
“He’s a sweetheart,” Kris agreed. She sighed. “Well, thanks for all you’ve done. We really appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem,” Mike insisted. “Now, last time I was here I was told that there was carrot cake?”
Marley laughed. “There’s not much left, Van’s been stuffing her face with it all week.”
Van scowled at her sister, but Marley was unperturbed. “Well you have!”
Dottie wheezed her way down the hall to greet them as they entered the house, and Mike crouched down and rubbing her floppy spaniel ears affectionately.
“How’re you doing there, old girl?” he asked the elderly dog, as she wagged her tail and looked up at him adoringly through clouded eyes.
Van grinned as he made a fuss of the spaniel. “Hasn’t popped her clogs yet, have you Granny?” she asked the dog, giving her a rub on the head as she passed.
Mike straightened up and followed the sisters into the kitchen, with Dottie trailing devotedly at his heels. He sat down in a rickety old chair and watched as they moved around the room in a sort of dance, each sister assuming her own role in their diminished family - Kris frantically clearing paperwork off the table top, Marley stuffing teabags into a row of chipped mugs, and Van pulling the cake from the fridge and dumping it down in front of him. It was heavily iced and lavishly decorated with pieces of dried fruit and chunks of dark chocolate.
“Wow.”
“The cake part is actually good too,” Van told him. “Usually when Marley bakes anything we end up just eating the icing and feeding the rest to the dogs. But this one’s not bad.” She cut off a generous slice and passed it to him.
“Cheers,” Mike looked at her and smiled as he took the plate, and Van felt a ripple of warmth run through her body. She clenched her jaw and cut off another piece of cake, dumping it in front of Kris, who was still attempting to whisk their large stack of bills out of Mike’s sight.
“Oh stop it, just sit down. Mike already knows we’re living hand-to-mouth,” Van told her. “No need to pretend otherwise.”
Kris turned red and Marley smirked, wondering why Kris wasn’t yet used to their sister’s brutal honesty. Tact had never been Van’s strong point.
Mike took a large bite of carrot cake. “Mmm!” He gave Marley the thumbs-up as she passed him a mug of hot tea and Kris quickly changed the subject.
“How’s Caroline?” she asked Mike, not noticing that Van’s expression suddenly darkened. “I haven’t seen her around town for a while.”
“She’s over in Australia visiting family,” Mike explained. “Her old man lives just outside Brisbane.”
“Ooh I’m jealous,” Kris replied. “Bet it’s hot over there.”
“Every day over thirty degrees,” Mike confirmed, then looked across the table at Van. “I hear the horses went well at Pukekohe. Rumour has it that Normandy won some big classes.”
Van looked up, her expression brightening. “Yep, took out the Young Rider and the metre-thirty Stakes class too. Covergirl was second in the Derby, but we had a rail in the metre-twenty jump-off,” Van said. “Ted Harris won it on that big grey he’s got. Bought it over from Aussie from what I hear. Must’ve cost him an arm and a leg.”
“Nice horse though,” Mike said. “Saw it out at his place last week. Think he put a second mortgage on the farm to afford that one.”
Kris cringed internally at the mention of debt, but said nothing, tapping her fingernails idly on the rim of her coffee mug as the conversation continued around her. Marley joined in as they discussed various horses and riders that they knew, and who they thought would be tough to beat this season.
“Some of these kids have it so easy,” Van was complaining. “That Deveraux girl with her matching pair of chestnut ponies, honestly it makes me sick. Daddy buys her whatever she wants and she just sits there steering them around the course. I bet you anything she couldn’t sit a proper buck, she’d come flying out the saddle and burst into tears the moment she hit the deck. Not like Marley here, she’s tough as old boots,” and Van punched her sister affectionately in the shoulder.
“Speak for yourself,” Marley said snippily. “Georgiana’s alright, it’s her dad that pushes her into everything. She only rides to keep him happy. I don’t think she cares that much about winning, really.”
“Not like some of the others,” Kris commented. “Did you hear that the Andrews family have bought Buckingham?”
Marley rolled her eyes. “So that precious darling Susannah can win Pony of the Year,” she grumbled. “As if she deserves to even come close.”
“She might now though,” Van said. “That pony’s a machine. Never seen it put a foot wrong in its life.”
“Poor pony,” Marley sighed. “Imagine belonging to that family.”
“Competitive?” Mike asked, not knowing them.
“Beyond the realm,” Kris said. “I wouldn’t want to be one of their ponies.”
“Or one of their kids,” Van agreed. “I like to win as much as anyone else, but I couldn’t stand it if I got yelled at every time I failed to meet up to someone else’s expectations.”
“You put enough pressure on yourself for the three of us,” Kris pointed out.
“Besides, you’d punch our lights out if we tried yelling at you,” Marley said, swiping a fingerful of icing off the side of the cake. “I’d have to be suicidal to even consider it.”
Mike chuckled as he drained off the last of his tea. “It’s a shame though. I always hate to see pushy parents trying to live through their children. No-one enjoys it, and the ponies are the ones that suffer most.”
“Hear hear,” Van said, raising her mug in agreement. Mike clinked his empty mug against hers, then set it on the table. “Well, I better get going. Got a few more people to see before the day is done. Thanks for the tea, and the cake was great, Marley. Keep up the good work,” he added as he stood and headed towards the door.
“We’ll get that latest invoice paid next week,” Kris promised as he reached the threshold.
“No rush,” he said with a smile. “Just pay me what you can, when you can.”
Waving to them, and insisting that they not get up to see him out, Mike left the house. As they heard the front door close, Van let out a sigh.
“He’s too old for you,” Marley said, helping herself to another slice of carrot cake.
Van shot her a look.
“What?” Marley mumbled through a mouthful of cake crumbs. “It’s so obvious that you’re in love with him. For starters, you agree with him. You never agree with anyone.”
Kris shook her head. “Please date him. Better still, marry him. Then he’ll have to forgive our debts.”
“It could be like your dowry,” Marley said.
“I’m not sure that’s quite how a dowry works,” Kris replied. “A dowry is what the bride brings to the marriage. Like an asset, rather than a liability.”
“Van’s a liability either way,” Marley teased and Kris chuckled as Van scowled at them.
“You guys are being ridiculous,” Van grumbled. “He has a girlfriend, remember?” She shoved her chair back abruptly and left the room, the dogs bounding at her feet.
Marley pulled a face at her sister’s retreating back. “How much do we owe him anyway?”
Kris pushed the last two invoices over to her sister, whose eyes bugged as she took them in.
“Well there goes that plan. There’s no way Van’s worth that much.” Marley shoved the rest of the cake into her mouth and left the room, Kris’s laughter following her out the door.
“Thanks Steve!” Marley called to the driver as she scrambled down the steps of the school bus onto the dirt road.
Shrugging her backpack higher on her shoulder, she started walking towards home, wishing that Mihi’s new-found obsession with softball didn’t eat up quite so many of her afternoons. Now Marley was left to exercise all four of her ponies on her own.
Three ponies, she corrected herself sadly. Heat shimmered off the road ahead of her, and the long grass at the roadside buzzed with insect life. Scuffing the hard-packed dirt in her Roman sandals and surrounded by deafeningly earnest cicadas, Marley didn’t hear the car coming until it was almost on top of her.
The dark green sedan whizzed past, then stopped suddenly, spraying loose gravel painfully across her bare legs. Marley turned to glare at the driver, then broke into a grin as she recognised him.
“Lachie!”
Mihi’s older brother leaned across the passenger seat and grinned at her. “Hey stranger. Need a ride?”
“Heck yes.” She climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut behind her. “It’s like an oven out there.”
“Tell me about it. Man, I haven’t seen you in ages,” Lachie said as he started driving on down the road. “Where’ve you been?”
“Me? I’ve been here! You’re the one who moved to Whangamata to work on a fishing boat,” Marley reminded him.
“Aw, have you missed me?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
“Not even slightly,” she shot back.
“Marley, you’re breaking my heart,” Lachie teased.
“You’ll live,” Marley grinned, leaning back and resting her feet on the dashboard.
Lachie cracked a grin at her, and Marley felt an unfamiliar flush rise to her cheeks. Mihi’s brother had changed since she last saw him. He was taller, more solid. His black curls had been cropped close to his head, his olive skin was sun-darkened, and there were scrapes on his knuckles that hadn’t been there before. But his smile was as wide as ever, and his teasing banter as insistent as it had always been. Marley listened idly as he filled her in on his new job, describing early mornings and long days of hauling nets and gutting fish.
“Sounds great,” she told him, doing her best to sound sincere.
Lachie wasn’t fooled. “Don’t lie. It sounds like the worst job in the world to you. But don’t worry, nobody would hire someone who throws up over the side every five minutes.”
“I’m not that bad!” Marley objected. “Don’t hold one afternoon on a rough sea against me.”
He laughed. “Okay okay. So how was school today?”
Marley shrugged. “School was school. It always sucks.”
“I felt that way too, but I’m dumb. Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”
Marley snorted. “Hardly. And you’re not dumb,” she insisted. Lachie pulled a face, not believing her, but she knew it was true. He was smart in lots of ways, just not ways that teachers appreciated. “You can build anything, and you’re good with cars and stuff. You were the only one who could get Van’s car running. Even the mechanic said it was hopeless but you got it to go.”
“That mechanic was ripping you off.”
“Good thing we have you then,” Marley replied. “Or we did, until you up and left.”
Lachie grinned. “See, I knew you missed me. You can’t lie to me, Marley Jane. I know you too well.” Marley laughed as he pulled into her driveway, and leapt out to check the mailbox.
“Bill, bank statement, bill. Kris is gonna be thrilled.”
Marley looked out the window as they drove down their rutted driveway, past Van’s horses grazing in the nearest paddock. Big black Ajax was lying flat on his side, basking in the sun, while dark bay Normandy grazed sedately. Firefly, the nervous youngster, was angrily stomping at flies as tall grey Jetstream leaned over the fence, munching greedily on the long grass that edged the driveway.
Lachie stopped in front of the house and Marley opened her door.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Any time,” he assured her as she shut the car door and waved as he drove out, then headed over to the yards to check on Nimble.
The black pony pricked up his ears when he saw Marley approaching, looking pleased to see her. She fed him the apple core she’d saved in her lunchbox, and he munched on it happily until Breeze barged over, demanding her share of the spoils.
“Nothing for you, fatty,” Marley told her, looking at the mare’s rounded sides. “You need to stop eating or you won’t fit out the gate, and we’ll have to cut you out, like one of those fat people on TV who get stuck inside their houses.”
Breeze flattened her ears at this unflattering analogy and sulked off to stuff herself with more grass. Nimble reached over the railing and kept licking hopefully at Marley’s hands.
“Sorry bud, it’s all gone,” Marley told him. Nimble sighed, accepting his disappointment, and limped slowly away to graze.
Van was making a sandwich in the kitchen when Marley came in.
“Oh good, you’re home. I’ve got a surprise for you,” Van told her sister.
“Good surprise or bad surprise?” Marley asked as she opened the fridge and considered her options.
“I think you’ll like it. I got you a new pony.”
Marley’s head popped up. “Really?” Her mind whirled in eager anticipation, wondering if this would be the pony that could replace Nimble, and take her to Pony of the Year.
“What’s it like?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
Van shook her head in warning. “Don’t get too excited. It’s unbroken and half wild. This guy called who has just inherited his grandfather’s farm, and he found this pony running loose in the back paddocks. No idea how he got there and what he’s done, but they had a look at his teeth and reckoned he’s about six years old. He hasn’t been handled much, but he’s pretty cute. Should be able to turn a bit of a profit on him once you get him rideable.”
Marley tried not to let her disappointment show. Not only green but unbroken, she thought, and her dreams faded once more. “Where is he?”
“Behind the house.”
Marley grabbed a slice of leftover pizza and took it with her as she headed out to see the new pony, ducking between the outbuildings to the paddock that lay directly below her bedroom window. At first the paddock appeared to be empty, but then Marley caught sight of a pinto pony standing under the pine trees amongst the broken branches that littered the ground.
She walked slowly towards the pony, trying to get a better look at him. His patchwork coat was giving him good camouflage in the dappled light under the trees, but as she got closer, she could see that his legs were white, his mane and tail black, and the rest of his body was a stylish pattern of brown and white. Between his eyes was a star shaped like a lightning bolt, and between his nostrils was a big splash of white, as though he’d dipped his nose into a bucket of white paint. The pony stood still and watched her as she approached. The closer she got, the tenser the pony became, yet he still didn’t move until she was within a few metres of him. Then he started to try and lift his feet, and Marley realised that he was stuck in the broken branches.
