Three
‘Why do I have to be the bore runner?’ Ash slapped his hat against his leg, facing his three older brothers seated at the table that took up the front corner of the porch. When they’d moved in a few weeks ago, the first thing they’d done, after they’d dumped their boxes into the farmhouse they only slept in, was to move the kitchen table outside to become their boardroom table for their morning meetings. That he’d missed again.
Ryder slid on his hat as he rose from the table. He was the oldest, and the biggest of the Riggs brothers. Part cattleman, part tough-as-nails ex-miner, along with a double dose of ex-military mean with a business brain. Even though Ryder had ice water in his veins, he was their bank, which made him the boss in the decision making. ‘If you’d bothered to show up on time—’
‘I was helping this lady change her flat tyre.’ He hoped Harper made it to town.
Ash shrugged, looking to Cap for help. Cap was normally the peacekeeper, the animal rescuing eco-warrior who usually backed up Ash. But today Cap wasn’t buying it either, giving a deep shake of his head.
‘Sure, you were.’ Dex rolled his eyes, which was a change from his permanent scowl. He was always scowling, always looking for a fight. Outside of the illegal fighting pits, the only one who’d take Dex on was Ryder—so those two were always bluing. ‘Are you sure you didn’t hit the snooze button to snuggle up to your date of the week?’
‘Well…’ Ash shrugged because that’s exactly what happened. ‘I’ll stay home tonight.’
‘Until the next buckle bunny catches your attention.’ Dex drained the last of his coffee cup.
‘So, what are you guys doing, then?’ It had to be better than cleaning stinking cattle slobber from the water troughs.
‘I’m taking the dogs and helping Ryder muster that small mob into the paddock we’ve finished fencing.’ Cap’s big team of cattle dogs were sprawled across the dead lawn that faced the sheds. Over on the other side of the house, on the front verandah lay the ex-police dogs—a lethal-looking shepherd, a labrador, and a beagle. Two packs, all of them rescued and loyal to one man, Cap, who preferred animals to humans.
‘Are you riding, Ryder?’ Ash could hoon around on the bike and skip doing troughs.
‘Nope. Chopper. It’s only a small mob. I want to check our water supply while I’m in the air. We’re heading into the deep part of the dry season and I want to see the damage to that dam.’
‘Starvation Dam, Charlie calls it.’ Dex rocked back on his chair’s legs. ‘He reckons it got smashed during some summer cyclone.’
‘It looks too clean to be storm damage.’ Ryder’s stern tone made Dex stop swinging in his chair. ‘I’ll know more today.’
‘Well, I’ll be fixing that truck we inherited to help haul our livestock.’ Dex slid on his hat, tucking his chair under the table. ‘And I’ll check the grader, in case of dam repairs.’
Which copped a nod of approval from Ryder.
‘Charlie said he’ll give you a hand with the troughs today, and show you where they are.’ Ryder’s boots trod heavily down the front wooden steps. ‘And Ash?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Listen to Charlie. He might only be the caretaker now, but he was this station’s head stockman for decades. He knows his stuff.’
‘ Ryder Riggs!’
‘Oh, man. Who upset the redhead?’ Ash started backing away as the caretaker’s granddaughter stormed towards them, obviously in a rage.
‘At least she didn’t say my name.’ Dex grinned, leaning his shoulder against the post to settle in for the showdown.
Bree stomped towards them from the direction of the caretaker’s cottage. Her long leather welder’s apron hung loose, where she slapped her thick leather gloves against her thigh. Her brimless, cooling skull cap barely contained her mass of red curls the colour of the fiery sun, and her green eyes were bright.
‘Morning, Bree,’ called out Ash.
‘Are you still wearing the same clothes as yesterday?’
Ash grinned. ‘You noticed me.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself, snowflake. You’re obviously some poor girl’s idea of a good time, just not mine, cowboy.’
Ash frowned at the insult. ‘I’m not a cowboy.’
‘You’re not a cattleman, either. But you—’ She swung around to point at Ryder. ‘My grandfather is not your slave.’
‘I never said he was.’
‘We don’t work for you.’
Ryder crossed his muscular arms. ‘Your grandfather is the caretaker. I won’t stop him, if he wants to work. And if he does, we’ll pay him.’
‘He’s already being paid, remember? The caretaker’s caveat, which includes that trust paying his re-tire-ment .’
‘I’m not stopping the man if he wants to help, just because you say so.’ Ryder leaned menacingly over her. It was a mean look.
You’d think she’d stop, like most people did, and back away from Ryder. Not Bree.
‘Charlie has orders to fill.’
‘You’ve just lectured us about overworking the man, and what are you doing?’ Dex piped in.
Bree glared at him with those fiery green eyes. ‘Do me a favour, Dex? Reinvent yourself over there, just not in my oxygen circle, buddy.’
That left Dex mumbling under his breath as Cap chuckled.
Her sassy comebacks even had Ryder smirking—which was as close to a smile as you’d ever get from the man with ice in his veins. ‘Charlie’s just showing Ash where the troughs are. That’s it.’
‘Really?’ She narrowed her eyes at Ryder for a long beat, then looked at the others, who nodded. ‘Okay…’ She stepped back from Ryder’s shade. ‘Just remember his age.’
‘It’d be good if you remembered his worth.’
She whipped up her finger like a dagger aimed at Ryder. ‘Listen, cupcake, if I—’ She peered over her shoulder to spot the rising red dust coming down the long dirt driveway. ‘ Incoming .’
‘Who’s that?’ Ash trotted down the steps.
‘Quick! Where’s the shottie?’ Bree jumped up the front steps, kicked at a loose floorboard along the verandah, and reached underneath to remove a shotgun.
‘VISITORS!’ Old man Charlie wolf-whistled out the front of the caretaker’s cottage, waving his hat at Bree, who waved the shotgun at her grandfather. Signal received.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Cap stepped away from the determined redhead.
‘We don’t like visitors.’ Bree cracked open the shotgun’s barrel to check its shell cases. Snapping it back into place, she headed down the steps. ‘We got a lot of death threats before you boys bought this place.’
‘Not on my watch.’ Ryder reached for the shotgun, but Bree held it back.
‘It’s the cops. It’s Porter.’ Ash pointed to the police car.
‘How do you know Policeman Porter?’ Bree had her body turned to keep the shotgun well out of Ryder’s reach.
‘We met him when we were staying at Sandlot Station, helping Jonathan and Mandy out,’ replied Ash, hoping somebody would calm down the redhead. ‘We helped the police search for a kidnapped couple, that ended up being this treasure hunt. And Ryder’s been mates with the town’s top cop since he helped save that kid from a bomb exploding at the school.’
‘Hero, huh?’ Bree still didn’t move, keeping her eyes on Ryder.
‘Bree, give me the shotgun.’ Ryder held his open palm to the woman.
‘Nope. It’s not your gun.’
‘You hid it in my house.’
She jutted out her dainty chin. ‘Not anymore. I’ll just find it a new hidey spot.’
‘What are the coppers doing out here?’ Charlie rushed up to Bree. He then leaned over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
Bree glared at Ryder as if to make her point. ‘It’s okay, Pop. Take deep breaths. Tell me you took your heart pills this morning?’
Charlies nodded, wheezing, as he waved her hand away. ‘I’m fine.’ His grey eyes focused on the police car parking nearby.
‘Hey, fellas.’ Porter adjusted his police cap and gave a friendly smile. ‘Everything all right?’ Porter nodded at Ryder and Bree, stuck in their heated stand-off.
‘All good. I’m just scaring off a few possums in the shed.’ Bree swung the shotgun onto her shoulder. Then under her breath she muttered to Ryder, ‘It’s mine, registered to me, that Porter inspected for correct licensing. So hands off, cupcake.’
‘We’ll talk about this later, Bree. Including that story about the death threats your grandfather forgot to mention.’ Ryder side-glanced at his brothers. It was the first they’d heard about any death threats. ‘What can we help you with, Porter?’
‘We’re looking for Ash.’ Porter pulled out a file, as the passenger door opened of the twin-cab ute with its chunky police cage on the back.
‘What did you do, bro?’ Cap arched his eyebrows at Ash.
‘Me? Nothing. I’m innocent.’
‘I’d doubt that very much,’ mumbled Dex, rocking on his boot heels.
‘Do you guys know Jenny? She’s the head nursing sister at our local bush hospital.’ Porter did the introductions.
‘I do. Hi, Jenny.’ Bree waved.
‘Hi, Bree. Are you okay, Charlie? You’re looking a little flustered.’ Jenny was a middle-aged woman opening the back door.
‘You’ll be happy to know Charlie did some cardio this morning. My grandfather ran all the way from the cottage fence to here.’ Bree’s light giggle had Ash grinning with Cap, as Charlie scowled at her while wiping the sweat from his brow.
‘I’m looking for Ashton Riggs.’
That wiped the smile off his face. ‘That’s me.’ Ash stepped forward, trying to think of what he’d done to warrant this kind of attention from the police.
Jenny grabbed something out of the car, then turned around holding a toddler in her arms. ‘This is Mason Riggs. And he’s your son.’