Nine
How did Harper let herself get talked into this? This wasn’t part of any work schedule that came with a memo or emailed request as part of the paper trail. No, this was a handshake deal that had her following the dusty trail of someone she’d just met, to become a nanny.
Harper had had little to do with babies, except smile at photos of influential people’s offspring and pretend she cared. How was she going to do this?
But Mason was different. His squishy hugs pushed away that deep-seated loneliness she hadn’t been able to shake since landing back in Australia. His little giggle and gummy smile lit up the room, warming her heart.
Plus, they shared a love for shortbread, so the kid would be okay. Right?
But where Ash was leading her didn’t feel right.
Harper searched for signs of life. There were none, just a red dusty road, with a rambling fence line that enclosed dry paddocks dotted with scraggly looking trees with crooked, spindly black trunks. Patches of pink wildflowers scattered like paint spilled on a red dusty floor, broken up by towering cone-shaped pillars of dirt that reminded her of stalagmites you might find on Mars.
She’d always had a dislike for space, planets, and stardust. Sure, she was nerdy—but she was the type of nerd who didn’t like space or the outdoors.
And this place looked like she’d landed in a deserted galaxy in a land where horrendous heat waves shimmered across the dirt road, distorting the landscape ahead of her. Behind her it was the same picture, only marred by the plume of dust caused by her own car, turning the sky red.
How did she get talked into this?
She kept her eye on the GPS that recorded her path, as they passed the place she had a flat tyre, only yesterday, then up the small hill that opened to a vista of nothing but land. Her eyes widened as her heart squeezed, because there was so much open country she could get easily lost, with no hope of anyone finding her.
She wasn’t an explorer or an adventurer. Harper was a girl who managed time behind a desk in air-conditioned comfort, with the occasional field trip to meetings held in places of sand dunes and workman’s rubble, to marble-floored buildings, and boardroom tables full of top brass and stuffed shirts.
But this…
Harper tried to force down the lump in her throat, gripping the steering wheel tighter. She glanced at her silent phone, well out of range now.
At least she’d had the common sense to email her assistant to tell her where she was going. But was she doing the right thing?
Following the trail of red dust from Ash’s ute, she passed through a broken gate, with a towering archway where the intricate metal sign above said Elsie Creek Station. It led to a long and straight track full of potholes and thick pockets of red sand. Her car struggled to get through.
When she finally drove into the clearing, a simple weatherboard house stood on the right. On its deep front porch, a large wooden table occupied the far-left corner where five people sat, watching her.
Before she could put the car into reverse and stop playing Bambi who should have never left her mother, her job, or her world—Ash opened her door.
‘Looks like we’ll have to grade the track so you can get in and out of the place easier.’ Ash gave such a boyish grin with that hinted dimple, stopping all her panic. Ugh, it was that grin of his that had her going through with this idiotic plan.
The hostile heat hit her in waves as she got out of the cool, air-conditioned car. Who knew that the extreme change in temperature would cause her sunglasses to fog up.
‘Here … you’re on the clock,’ Ash said, pushing Mason into her arms. ‘Come on, meet my brothers. I’ll take your suitcase.’
Mason drooled with his fist in his mouth, rubbing sleepy eyes, wincing in the bright outback sunshine that was harsh, even for her. At least she had sunglasses. ‘Mason needs a hat.’ Or should she drag out her umbrella?
‘It’s on the list.’ Ash loaded himself up with shopping bags from the back of his ute while dragging her suitcase to the house, where bickering voices greeted them.
‘Everyone…’ Ash dumped the shopping bags at his feet.
Harper’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the cool verandah’s shade. No wonder they were all out here. Nearby, boxes of empty beer cans and bourbon bottles rested against the wall, while dirty coffee cups and glasses covered the table.
The other side of the spacious verandah was full of baby gear. Her suitcase sat next to a portable cot filled with toys that Mason was reaching for. Harper put Mason inside the portable playpen and gave him his water bottle.
‘This is Harper Jamison, the nanny.’
Harper cleared her throat at Ash, straightening her skirt, fronting for an inspection of the troops of a different kind.
‘Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m tired. And this is all new to me, too.’ Ash gave her a shy grin. ‘Harper has agreed to help until we can hire a proper nanny.’ Ash then pointed at the seated men. ‘That’s my brother Cap in the baseball cap. The one scowling is Dex, and the guy in the black hat is Ryder.’
‘And we’re chopped liver, apparently.’ The woman, with a massive mop of red hair, tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at Harper as if to see right through her. It was unnerving.
‘That’s Bree and her grandfather, Charlie,’ said Ash. ‘They live over there in the caretaker’s cottage. Everyone, this is Harper. Do I call you the nanny?’
‘No, thank you.’ Harper raised her chin to face the outback committee at the bush basher’s boardroom table. ‘Where will I be staying?’ Please don’t say the stables?
‘You’ll have my room.’ Dex crossed his inked arms over his chest. He had muscles on muscles, along with a mean dark look.
She nearly choked on air, looking to Ash. ‘Remember those boundaries we talked about.’ Keeping open the lines of professionalism.
‘I moved out.’
‘To where?’ Ash asked Dex.
‘I’m bunking in the old stockman’s shack.’
‘I’ll be moving out, too,’ said Cap, patting the cream-coloured labrador that leaned against his leg. ‘I’m going to fit out that demountable near the kennels. What do you call it, Bree?’
‘The dogbox.’
‘Yeah, that. Infrastructure’s there for the kennels. It just needs a bit of TLC.’
‘Bulldozer would be quicker,’ mumbled Dex.
‘When did this happen?’ Ash asked his brothers.
‘Today. While you were out, bro,’ replied Cap. ‘We guessed you’d need the room for Mason and the nanny.’
‘So, what were you arguing over?’
The men turned to frown at the elderly man.
‘Charlie has our brand.’ Dex jabbed his finger in the air at Charlie. ‘Why can’t we have it?’
‘Coz it’s mine. It’s always been mine,’ grumbled the old man. ‘You tell ‘em, Bree.’
‘Hey, that’s between you and these boys.’ The redhead approached. ‘Did you get the medicine, Ash?’
‘We did. And this other woman recommended some rusks to try in the supermarket. But I got everything from your list.’ Ash seemed proud of himself.
‘You didn’t get your son a hat, I see.’
‘It’s on a different list.’ Ash shrugged.
‘Yeah, I’ve heard that before… So, I made you some more of those frozen fruit sticks for Mason. They’re in the freezer in that hovel you boys call a kitchen.’ Bree turned to the table as she spoke, ‘You boys do know a fridge is for food, not just for beer and bourbon? And it’s a good place for keeping water cool, too.’
‘None of your concern, Bree,’ grumbled Ryder, his voice deep and stern. ‘Butt out of our business.’
‘Wait. Let’s take a moment to grieve, and remember you said that, cupcake.’ Bree playfully winked at Harper, obviously unfazed. ‘Where did Ash find you?’
‘In the supermarket. I was buying shortbread.’ Her plan had been to eat in her room and not end up in the middle of Woop Woop.
Bree tilted her head, her eyes scrutinising Harper from head to toe. Harper felt naked.
‘Did Ash sweet-talk you into this? He thinks he’s a god to women.’
‘No, it was Mason who did the sweet-talking.’ Harper smiled down at the boy, to tenderly stroke his soft hair. ‘I assure you it had nothing to do with his father. Ashton Riggs is not my type.’ Not that she knew what her type was when it came to men.
‘I’m standing right here, ladies.’
‘Good.’ Bree grinned, ignoring Ash. ‘Welcome to Elsie Creek Station, Harper. If you need me, I’m over at the caretaker’s cottage, just walk around the back. Come on, Pop, let’s hit the mute button and move on from this argument. I’ve got a hot date with some hockey players, and a new batch of gin to try.’ Bree skipped down the steps.
‘I’m Charlie.’ The old man removed his enormous hat before shaking Harper’s hand. ‘Welcome to Elsie Creek Station, missy. You need anythin’ you let us know. I’ll give you a tour in the Razorback once you're settled in.’
Oh, that sounded safe. Not.
‘Not tonight, you won’t, Pop. You’ve been drinking,’ said Bree over her shoulder.
‘Yep, reckon a hot shower and a decent spot of tucker and it’ll be lights out for me, for sure.’ Charlie slapped on his hat and winked at her, only to scowl at the brothers as he hoisted a metal rod over his shoulder. ‘I’ll be taking my property with me and putting her under lock and key. When you’re ready to do the branding, I’ll bring it out, but not until then.’
‘It’s supposed to be our brand,’ called out Dex. ‘We own the station now.’
‘You don’t own the brand.’ Charlie shuffled a little quicker towards Bree, where they hooked arms and began singing as they headed for the cottage.
‘How much have they had to drink?’ Ash pointed at the beer bottles covering the table.
‘Charlie had a few. He was helping us with the security details. Bree, nothing. She wasn’t here long. She brought over a cot and highchair that were stored in one of the sheds.’ Ryder was a big man, with dark eyes narrowed at Harper, full of mistrust, the way soldiers used to look at her in foreign lands.
‘Bree never stays longer than ten minutes. She just says her piece and leaves.’ Dex gripped the roof’s railing and stretched out his spine, his shirt coming loose from his jeans to give a peek at his chiselled abs. ‘That brand is ours.’
‘What brand?’ Ash asked.
Harper peeked at Ash. Did he have a set of abs like Dex, like some family trait?
‘The Elsie Creek Station branding iron.’
‘Is that what Charlie was carrying?’ Ash pointed towards a small house, with a long corrugated fence along the side, but the front fence had tiny white fairy lights weaved around the edges. Faint rock music and the smell of a wood fire came from that direction.
‘We just found out that Charlie makes them.’
‘Who does, what? I’m sorry, I’m confused.’ If it wasn’t for little Mason, holding her hand from his playpen, Harper would have bolted from this bizarre scenario.
‘Have you ever worked on a cattle station?’ Ryder narrowed his cold, black eyes at her. His icy glare had her shivering.
‘No. Never.’ She never lied. But she knew how to play politics and hide the truth, and Ryder looked like the type of man who could tell if anyone was lying, and would waterboard you for information.
But how could she lie when she didn’t understand the context of their argument?
‘Hmm…’ Even Ryder’s voice was deep and cold. ‘Cap, give the boy his new toy.’
‘I bet twenty this nanny doesn’t last the week.’ Dex slammed twenty dollars onto the table while grinning evilly at Harper. ‘Any takers?’
What an arsehole!
‘Stop betting in front of the girl, it’s rude,’ said Cap as he approached, with a dog following him. ‘A brand is a combination of letters or marks we use on the cattle. Each station has their own registered brand that makes the cattle recognisable, so we can claim ownership over them should any wander. It’s just that, somehow, Charlie owns the Elsie Creek Station brand and has it registered under his name.’
‘Can’t we just design a new brand?’ Ash asked. ‘Being new owners and all.’
‘Elsie Creek Station’s brand is the same one created back in 1910. It’s a rare, legacy brand.’ Ryder snatched up his beer bottle with a snarl and drank deeply. ‘We just have to convince that old sod that brand is ours.’ He sat at the head of the table, as if the man in charge. ‘Whose turn is it to cook dinner?’
‘Mine.’ Cap gave Harper a soft smile. ‘Hope you like steak.’
‘Sure. When in Rome, right?’
‘What do you think about dogs?’ Cap nodded at the labrador, wagging its tail as it sniffed at the baby pen where Mason was trying to pat the dog. His squeals of excited laughter eased the tension in the air.
‘I don’t have a problem with dogs. I’ve always wanted one, but I was travelling too much with work to get one.’
‘I get you on the travelling.’ Cap patted the labrador. ‘This is Mason’s dog, Ruby. She’s a nanny dog.’
‘Cool.’ Ash nodded with approval.
‘I’m sorry, but aren’t I the nanny?’ Was she being replaced by a dog?
Cap crouched to pat the pale-coloured labrador that was watching Mason. ‘Ruby’s job is to watch over you both, in case of snakes and stuff.’
‘ Snakes! ’ Harper swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the exposed beams in the roof, covered in thick cobwebs.
‘Nah, I changed my mind. I’m only betting ten that she won’t make the next twenty-four hours.’ Dex grinned, swapping the twenty-dollar bill for ten.
Harper glowered at the ingrate, so tempted to make that bet on herself.
‘Ruby will stay in the house and under the boy’s cot,’ Ryder commanded. Leaving her no choice but to accept the dog.
She’d never had much to do with dogs. The ones she saw sat in doggy handbags carried by rich socialites in restaurants. But they seemed so happy, like Ruby with her wagging tale and smile, who made Mason smile—the same smile as his father.
Mason was so cute he should be paid to endorse nappies or sit alongside puppies and sell toilet paper.
‘Do me a favour, Harper?’ Cap pointed to the mean-looking black shepherd chained to the verandah’s far corner post. ‘Keep Mason away from the shepherd, until I get the dog assimilated.’
‘You have an attack dog?’ Was this place a dog kennel?
‘Sarge is an ex-riot dog.’
‘On a cattle station?’ She then noticed the rifles leaning against the wall. A few surveillance cameras lay beside some shotgun shells, spilling over the map spread across the table. She recognised the assorted paraphernalia to show a war-room’s battle in progress, a disorganised one at that.
A tingle of terror crept up her spine. She scooped up Mason and held him close, with Ruby, the dog, watching her every move. Was the boy safe? Was she? ‘Are you going to war?’ What sort of hillbilly outfit was this?
‘Nah, we’re good. Aren’t we, brothers?’ Ash glared at his older siblings, then put on a fake smile for Harper. ‘Come on, Harper, I’ll let you pick a room.’