Free Race Girl by Leigh Hutton

hold her head high, standing as square as she could on all four legs, her eyes alert, ears pricked firmly forward at her new visitors. They watched each other for a few minutes, the humans and the filly, before Bucko whistled to her. Her nose shot even higher into the air, her body pushing hard into the back fence.
    â€˜Oh,’ Tully said. ‘Let’s not frighten her.’
    â€˜Looks like she’s had plenty of that already, poor darlin’,’ Bucko said, a dark frown crossing his face, landing on his lips. ‘Let’s go have a quick chat to Dennis, then you can head over and see if you can’t get acquainted. Hopefully you’ll need this—’ He handed her a worn rope halter and lead rope.
    Tully accepted it, her eyes firmly on the filly.
    â€˜You can go see her in a sec,’ Bucko said, taking Tully gently by the arm. She waved at the filly, before drifting along behind Bucko as he marched around the front of the house to see the man on the front verandah.
    â€˜Buckley,’ the man said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Didn’t know you’d be stoppin’ by.’
    â€˜Didn’t want you to,’ Bucko laughed, ‘How ya been, Dennis?’
    Dennis rocked back in his chair, resting his feet on a tipped-over milk crate. ‘Heard about the filly, did ya?’
    â€˜Word ’round the pub is you took her as a partial payment from Nevins?’
    Must be a bookie . . . Tully thought, taking a step out from behind Bucko.
    â€˜Hiya, Darlin’,’ the man said, letting out a low whistle. ‘That the Athens girl, Buckley?’
    Bucko’s body tensed and he took a step forward, urging Tully back. ‘Not here to chat.’
    Dennis laughed roughly, rubbing a hand down his scraggly beard. ‘That fool Nevins’s always gettin’ in over his head,’ he said. ‘I’d race her meself if I thought she’d go any good.’
    Bucko balled his fists. Tully could practically feel the heat radiating off him.
    â€˜Too much money and risk in it anyhow,’ Dennis continued, ‘I’m happy where I’m sittin’ on the side of the track.’
    Taking people’s money , Tully thought, her heart sinking. That poor little filly’s gonna be stuck here . . .
    â€˜Well that’s the thing about this sport,’ Bucko said, crossing his arms across his chest. ‘As old John Wilko said, ‘For all its flaws, one of horseracing’s enduring qualities is that it gives everyone a shot. Commoners, Kings, cowboys, and cowgirls . . . all you need is a horse and some hope.’
    Dennis huffed. ‘Someone like me’s seen too much to waste time on hope,’ he said, looking far off across the plain.
    â€˜What were the doggers gonna give ya?’ Bucko asked.
    â€˜Two-fifty.’
    Bucko shook his head. ‘Always have been a sly old bugger, haven’t ya, Dennis? It woulda’ been two hundred—we’ll match it, and take her off your hands right now . . .’ Before Dennis could answer, Bucko had turned to Tully. ‘But this is up to you, Tulls. You know how expensive a racehorse in training is, and this filly will need a lot of work. I have a good feeling about her, for you. But it’s your decision. I’m not forcing you to take her.’
    â€˜What?’ Tully’s eyes widened in shock, her body jolting upright. ‘ I can have her?!’
    â€˜We need another horse; we need one bad. I know your dad will come around, and let you ride again. And when he does, you’ll need something decent to train on. To race. Plus, Greg is in desperate need of a girlfriend. But . . .’ he shrugged. ‘It’s up to you.’
    Tully burst out laughing. ‘Oh my God!’ she said finally, throwing her arms around Bucko’s neck. ‘Yes, yes please! Of course I want her, Bucko. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can get to the bank.’ She squeezed him tight,