Fifty
Ever since that stockman with the bandy-legged swagger had passed, there had been a big gaping hole in the lives of those who lived at Elsie Creek Station. Charlie had been so full of life, happily dancing with the ladies, giving bull-riding tips to the next generation of rodeo riders, or telling scary stories around a campfire.
Ryder truly missed the old man who always had a story to tell, missing the aroma of baking bread that greeted him in the mornings, or that robust cup of billy tea.
Following the smell of coffee brewing, Ryder walked into the boardroom where Ash and Cap were already seated at the table to begin their regular morning meeting. ‘Morning.’
‘How’s Bree?’ Cap asked.
‘Quiet. In the shed this morning.’ Even though she’d been up long before dawn, it was a good thing. Ryder had tried to comfort her, but it was like Bree had completely switched off. All that playfulness, that sassy spark, was buried deep behind her hollow eyes. But he’d refused to let her go through this alone.
‘This is for you lot.’ He dealt out the large manila envelopes like dealing a pack of cards.
‘What’s this?’ Ash spun his envelope around on the tabletop.
‘I want you all to work out your wills.’ Ryder was doing what he always did, prepare for the future.
‘You’re kidding.’ Ash’s jaw dropped. He was young, and still had that ten-foot-tall bulletproof bravado that Ryder remembered at that age.
‘With Charlie’s passing and what Bree is going through, I think we owe it to ourselves and our loved ones to make it as easy as possible for those we leave behind. I’ve updated mine. You guys have dependants now that you need to take care of. Ash, you will need to do one for your son. Cap, you’ve got dogs. And you’ve all got live-in partners.’
The sounds of hooves trotting towards them stopped, a horse snorted, and in a few moments, Dex strolled inside carrying a large rolled up package the length of a shotgun. ‘Morning.’
‘How was the ride?’
‘Great. I thought our stockhorses were good, but Bree’s horse is a beast.’
‘You rode Black Hand?’ Ryder’s jaw tightened. Bree loved that horse.
Dex nodded. ‘He’s having a drink in the trough by the bar.’
Bree still fed her horses daily, but she hadn’t ridden them since Charlie had passed.
‘Unless you can get Bree to start riding again, I’ll be riding Slim tomorrow.’ They all knew the stockhorses were used to being ridden on a regular rotation.
‘Good idea. I’ll get Bree back on Black Hand tomorrow, and I’ll ride Slim.’ Even if Bree may argue with him, Ryder would carry her to that saddle if he had to. He’d rather she’d get mad at him than continue in the catatonic state she’d been in lately. Grief just sucked.
‘Cool, I’ll go back to running in the mornings then. Can’t wait until we get our first station hand to care for the horses.’ Dex poured himself a coffee, carrying that long roll on his shoulder.
‘And they can clean the troughs,’ mumbled Ash.
‘Oh, and the fencing, don’t forget the fencing,’ said Cap, peeking inside the large envelope.
‘Did I miss much?’ Dex dropped into his chair and dumped the roll on the table with a heavy thud.
‘Just that I want you to make out a will.’ Ryder dropped the envelope in front of Dex. ‘I want it back in a week to lodge them.’
‘Swap ya. I found this package on the bar.’ He slid it across the table.
Ryder peeled back the bubble wrap, the same stuff Bree used for her customer’s packages. Only this time it revealed a green blanket, the one he’d given Bree when he’d fixed her shotgun. It was his blanket!
Was she giving him her shotgun back?
‘What’s that?’ Ash asked, with Cap leaning forward.
Ryder rolled open the blanket to reveal a branding iron.
‘Is that the Elsie Creek brand?’ Ash was on his feet to pick up the branding iron, with Cap scooting around the table to stand beside him.
Dex plucked up a note tucked inside the blanket and read out:
As per the final request of Charlie Splint, this is for the Riggs brothers.
Please take care of it, boys, and all that this brand represents as the owners of Elsie Creek Station.
Bree.
Ryder gathered up his old green blanket, releasing another slip of paper that fell to the table. ‘It’s the brand’s registration. Bree’s transferred it into our name.’
‘We finally have it,’ said Ash, passing the branding iron to Cap.
Yet none of them felt like celebrating ownership of the brand they’d argued with Charlie about from the very beginning.
Cap passed the iron to Ryder, who cradled the rare legacy branding iron as if it were forged from more than metal. It held the weight of this station’s history, that was part of the stories of every beast and every hand who had ever marked this land.
He passed it on to Dex, all of them solemn as it exchanged hands. It wasn’t merely an iron rod passing from one owner to the next, it was the station’s soul, entrusted to Ryder and his brothers to carry forward.
Ryder then carried it to the vacant space on the wall, where he’d asked Bree to make him a bull’s head when she did this room’s makeover. Of course she’d refused, yet kept this space blank, complete with the special hanging hooks. He’d never understood why she’d left this space empty, until now.
It was the perfect place to hang their legacy brand for all to see, as all four brothers stood in a row and stared at it in heavy silence. It felt official now, as owners of Elsie Creek Station, with the torch being passed on from the caretaker, and longest serving head stockman, to the next generation of stockmen.
Then they all heard the familiar rumble of the Kombi van.
‘Where is Bree going?’ Dex peered through the wall of windows.
Ryder shrugged, yet there was a tingling sensation at the base of his neck. Something wasn’t right. Bree could have given him that brand personally, there was no reason to leave it on the bar like that. And she had Dex riding her horse, Black Hand.
‘When is Bree going on that holiday? What was it?’ Cap asked. ‘Some beach…’
‘To drink gin on a beach with no crocodiles while she waited to go watch the Stanley Cup,’ said Ash. ‘Bree’s got Harper watching ice hockey now. I had no idea how brutal and quick that game is.’
‘Does anyone remember where Bree’s first stop was?’ Cap asked.
‘To drive to the nearest international airport and catch the first plane out to Tahiti.’ Dex grabbed Ryder’s arm. ‘Brother, Bree always said she was going to do that as soon as Charlie’s affairs were in order.’ Dex pointed to the branding iron that hung from the wall. ‘That looks like finished business to me.’
The yellow Kombi van puttered down the long driveway.
‘Bree wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, would she?’ Ash headed to the window.
‘She’d better not.’ Tossing the green blanket over his shoulder, Ryder stalked out the door to find Bree’s horse, Black Hand, patiently standing by the water trough. Without a second thought, Ryder swung into the saddle and gave chase after that yellow Kombi van disappearing in a cloud of red dust.