Stockman’s Showdown (The Stockmen #4)

Nine

The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh outback air had Ryder inhaling deeply as the stars dimmed above him in a deep, maroon-coloured sky, while on the distant horizon, a ribbon of red began to glow across the rugged landscape. Ryder sighed heavily, because nothing beat an outback sunrise. All he needed was a coffee and he’d be set.

He peered at the top of his swag that seemed heavier, only to discover his blanket. It was the green one he’d given to Bree.

He scowled at it, instantly engaging in a foul mood.

Not only had she snuck up on him while he was asleep, but she’d also given his gift back. And that was a big no in his book, especially when he knew how much she’d liked it.

Dragging on his boots, raking fingers through his thick hair, he grabbed his jacket.

‘Morning, Boss.’ Charlie poured him a cuppa. ‘Here, you look like you need one.’

‘Thanks.’ He sipped on the brew, trying to simmer his temper. His brothers were still asleep. It was almost five. Sunrise wasn’t due for an hour, but they had a stock camp to pack-up and a muster to finish. It was going to be a long day.

‘Here’s the water you wanted, Pop.’ Bree came into the camp light carrying a bucket, only to huddle closer to the fire, warming her hands up. ‘The dew is thick out there.’

‘Here.’ Ryder flung the blanket around her shoulders, scowling at her. ‘I gave you this for a reason. Don’t you dare give it back?’

‘Well, didn’t you wake up on the wrong side of the swag, cupcake?’

He didn’t care. ‘You need to stay warm.’

‘I can look after myself, thank you.’

‘I know that. But you’re always looking out for everyone else, so who looks after you?’

She stared at him with her green eyes widening to reflect their campfire.

Look out, he must have hit a sore spot. Which made sense. Bree didn’t think of herself, only everyone else. Was that because she too had ghosts that chased her in the dark? Considering Bree’s background was filled with horrors that would’ve had bigger men crumbling, that it was remarkable how Bree still got up and kept on swinging, he admired her for that.

Watching her wrap that blanket—his blanket—around her shoulders and cinch it securely into her belt satisfied some deep, primal urge within him. Something raw, almost savage. It was like seeing a woman in his T-shirt, with her legs bare and messy bed hair on full display, only this was so much better

‘Here, take this.’ She passed him a plate with seared sandwich steak, crispy bacon, hot fried bread, and some good old-fashioned beans and greens to make a bushman’s version of bubble-and-squeak, topped with eggs sunny side up. Just the way he liked it. She remembered from their first muster to Wombat Flats, like she remembered the details of conversations. There was a clever woman behind that sly smile. ‘Now sit down over there and eat your brekkie, and stop annoying the cook.’

He took the plate, grinning to himself. Now she was looking after him.

There was no way his attraction to Bree was because of the convenience of her being the only single woman in the area. He’d had plenty of gold-diggers pursuing him, only too willing to burn through his cash. All of them had failed to meet her standards like it was a test. Only one had passed, and she didn’t even know she’d been trying out for the position.

Yet trying to approach the redhead with a temper of fire was tricky, where he’d been biding his time to find that right moment. Yesterday’s kiss had proven his patience was finally paying off.

Ryder sat beside Charlie as they ate breakfast and drank the best billy tea Charlie had ever made.

With daylight breaking, he packed up his swag and approached the horses where Bree had already saddled Charlie’s horse, and their packhorses, now working on her tough black horse that was a beast he wouldn’t mind riding one day.

‘Do you have much left to pack?’ Ryder dropped his swag beside his saddle, picked up a brush and chose a horse to ride for the day.

‘Nope. Our gear is already on the horses.’ Bree patted the nose of one of her sturdy stockhorses. They were well-trained animals.

‘You’re efficient at this,’ he said, brushing down a strong mocha-coloured mare. ‘My old sergeant would have approved.’

‘Wait, let me turn up my hearing for a second.’ Bree stopped brushing down her stallion to poke up the brim of her stockman’s hat with the hatband made of contrasting strips of cloth, lace, twine and leather, a few feathers, even a playing card and some matches, making it as unique as the stockwoman wearing his blanket like a poncho, tucked securely into her belt. ‘You know, that’s the first time you’ve actually mentioned something about your time in the military.’

‘I can’t tell you my missions, but I can tell you anything else you want to know.’

‘Riiight.’

‘Hey.’ He grabbed her arm. ‘This is me trying to hold a conversation with you. So…’ He inhaled deeply. ‘I was a captain in the Australian Army in charge of an ordnance specialist team, before I retired.’

‘Is that something to do with weapons?’

‘I was responsible for the safety, security, and accountability of my unit’s weapons and ammunition.’ It was the word-for-word textbook response he still remembered from his days in basic training. ‘I found, after growing up in a junkyard repairing junk, that I had a knack for weaponry as a First Class Lieutenant. I made captain when I was recruited into the Special Forces. I’m no grunt, I was an officer.’ Leadership came easily to him, so said his superiors. Guess that’s what happens when you order around a tribe of siblings by the age of five.

‘Were you working on the super-secret squirrel stuff?’

He chuckled. ‘Yeah. The secret stuff.’

‘But it’s more than that. I’ve seen what you did to my shotgun. It’s a passion for you.’

He nodded, quietly pleased that she’d noticed.

‘And…?’

Dammit, if he didn’t speak, the redhead would get mad at him, and he wanted to talk to her, when normally he didn’t talk. He had to say something, because Bree was waiting for a response. ‘It’s how I made my money.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I sold the patents for certain weapons I’d designed for the military.’

‘So, you didn’t steal from some diamond mine?’

‘No.’ The chuckle burst from his lips. She amused him so effortlessly, always surprising him. ‘After I retired from the outfit, I saw an opportunity and went to work on a diamond mine, and I did some offshore oil rigging, too.’

She arched an eyebrow at him, before flinging her saddle onto her horse. ‘But you were an officer.’

‘Getting my hands dirty never bothered me.’ He slid on his gloves, well-worn from being a stockman, not like some overseer. ‘And those places came with uniforms, meals and accommodation—just better pay.’

‘Yeah, but…’ With her playful green eyes sparkling, she wiggled her finger at him as if peeling back his shields. ‘There’s more to that story, isn’t there?’

He adjusted his stockman’s hat, fighting the temptation to brush the fine stray hairs from around her face, that had worked free from her thick plait. ‘I worked at the mines while waiting for the patents to come through. I made more money out of the department as a civvy, selling them the patents on the weapons I’d designed, which I learned to reinvest.’

‘Which is how you knew all about the patents for Ash’s tech gear.’

He nodded.

‘Clever.’ She turned her back on him to tighten her saddle straps.

‘Any other questions?’

‘Oh yeah, stacks. But I’ve got horses to saddle, and a dust-stirring muster to start. But I’ll have all day to think about the questions I want to ask.’

A full wattage smile broke the seal of his steel facade, and his chest felt so light and free as it filled with crisp morning air.

‘Wow, look at you, cupcake. You look like you’ve swallowed the sun.’

He felt like it too. Only Bree did that for him. ‘I’ve told no one, not even my brothers, how I made my money.’

‘I won’t tell anyone.’

‘I know. That’s why I told you.’ He kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear, ‘By the way, if we’re opening a dialogue and being truthful, I hate being called cupcake .’

Her abrupt laugh rang out like a melody, clear and bright, filling the air with a contagious warmth that made him smile. ‘I know. That’s why I say it.’

Together they saddled all the horses they’d need for the day. Working in silence alongside Bree was both comfortable and companionable. He was hoping today was the day they didn’t argue with each other. He also wanted to continue the conversation with her, and yet he couldn’t think of a damned thing to say.

‘We were coming to help,’ said Ash, approaching with handheld radios tucked securely into their halters, along with Dex, stuffing his face with the last of his steak sandwich.

‘All done. Thanks.’ Bree took a radio from Ash and clipped it into her shoulder holster like a cop with their gun. Her stockwhip on her hip, sliding on her riding gloves, she was ready to ride. ‘I’ll go help Charlie.’ It was so typical of Bree to walk away. Normally she’d keep her interactions to a strict ten-minute limit, where she’d dump some information bomb then leave.

‘You can unsaddle them when we get home,’ Ryder said to his brothers, as he clipped on his radio and stockwhip, watching Bree share a joke with her grandfather, ‘if we make it to the drafting yards today.’ The other women were slowing them down by playing tourists, while he was ready to climb into the saddle and take advantage of the cool morning before the outback’s hostile sun blazed down on them like the wrath of a thousand firestorms.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

‘SNAKE! SNAKE!’ It was Sophie running through the tall grass while trying to pull up her jeans with one hand and holding her camera in the air. But her scream was so high-pitched it was as if a dozen banshees were howling in the air, the noise echoing as if it was coming from all directions.

‘Sophie!’ Dex ran after her.

‘At least it’s not bird spiders this time, like Harper,’ said Ash with a chuckle. ‘Was Sophie taking photos while peeing?’

‘Looks like it.’ Ryder tilted his head as Sophie tripped over her jeans to roll in the grass, with Dex chasing after her. Surprisingly, her screams still shattered the morning air, like a sonic boom, ricocheting everywhere across the open plains as if surrounding them.

‘Oh, no.’ Bree’s voice instantly set off alarm bells for Ryder.

‘What?’ He approached her.

Bree dropped her head, looking at the ground. ‘Can you feel that?’

Ryder felt the ground rumble beneath his boots and the rise of dust. It only meant one thing. ‘Aw hell, no.’

‘STAMPEDE.’ Charlie climbed onto the log and waved his hat in the air.

The earth rumbled like an earthquake as over a thousand head of cattle pounded the red soils to stir the largest cloud of red dust to stain the sky. And it was heading straight towards them.