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don’t like something. Laws are there for very good reasons—’ Shara interrupted before her father could get into a good flow. ‘But someone had to protect those horses. Don’t they deserve to be protected?’
    â€˜They are protected, by the law, and so are their owners. They—’ ‘But they don’t deserve to be, Dad. The Connemans are cruel.’ Shara searched desperately for an ethical argument – where was Jess when she needed her? ‘Don’t you think we have a moral obligation to protect the weak?’ She’d heard an American activist say that on television once and it had sounded very convincing.
    It didn’t convince her father. ‘Shara, there are many ways you can put your views across and make a stand. You can lobby, start petitions, walk around naked in a sandwich board if you like, but you cannot wilfully deface someone else’s property. I can see that there was good intention in what you did, but you have to live by society’s rules instead of being an annoying prankster.’
    â€˜How come when adults do these things they get called activists and when kids do it they just get called pranksters ? You should have seen those poor brumbies. They were completely brutalised. But now they’ve been rescued, thanks to our pranks . Look at the state Goldie was in when we found him. Those people are no good, Dad. Even Corey Duggin says so and he’s a rodeo rider!’
    â€˜That’s not the point, Shara. What you’ve done is wrong. You’re damn lucky those contractors have left town or you would’ve been up on charges. If you pull any more stunts like that, you’ll be in serious trouble, do you hear me?’
    Shara sighed. ‘Yes, Dad.’
    Barry glared at her. ‘I need to know whether your attitude is going to change, because if it’s not, that horse can go to the first home that comes his way. I’m not going to feed a herd of horses for a daughter who shows no gratitude and thinks she can just go around breaking the law.’
    â€˜I’m sorry.’
    â€˜You ought to be.’
    â€˜So, are you going to punish me?’ Because a grounding could make Jess’s Brisbane plan a wee bit difficult . . .
    â€˜No. I’ve spoken to you and I’ve given you a warning. Any more illegality and the horses are gone.’ He looked her dead in the eye. ‘Both of them!’

9
    SHARA RUMMAGED THROUGH her wardrobe. What to wear to the big smoke – hmmm, something not covered in horse hair. Jeans – no clean ones. Shirt – no clean ones. Skirt – surely she had one somewhere . . .
    She pulled a swirly yellow skirt from the very bottom of the cupboard. Aunty Vic had given it to her for Christmas; no doubt as a subtle hint that she should be more girlish. Ugh, hurts my eyes. She tossed it on the floor.
    After trying on several tops, she threw the lot on the bed and decided to wait for Rosie to arrive. Trying to find city-friendly clothes was too stressful to contemplate solo. How on earth did she let Jess talk her into this?
    She felt a pang of guilt for lying to her parents. But, she argued to herself, what else was she to do? The issue of the colt’s ownership needed to be sorted so he could be gelded and cared for properly. All they needed to do was find the taffy mare and take a teensy bit of hair from her for a sample. No illegalities required.
    Rosie arrived and looked at the pile on Shara’s bed with disdain. Shara’s wardrobe was geared towards one thing: horses.
    â€˜Lucky I brought some civilised clothes for you to try,’ Rosie said, reaching into a small duffle bag and pulling out a handful of flimsy red fabric.
    â€˜What the heck is that ?’ said Shara.
    â€˜A skirt, you know, those cute little things that show off your legs.’ Rosie held up the garment and stretched it between two hands.
    â€˜I thought it was a hanky,’ said