Twenty-one
‘Can we take a baby to the pub?’ Harper asked Bree, pushing Mason’s pram through the front doors of the Elsie Creek Hotel.
‘Why not? It’s a good place for lunch.’
Harper removed her sunglasses, as the aroma of assorted hoppy ales greeted her. Expecting wall-to-wall cowboys leaning over the bar, with its brass rail and glass door fridges, she was surprised at how empty the large room was, with only a few men leaning against the bar.
‘Where is everyone?’
‘It is a weekday, and it is working hours.’
‘Are we staying long? I get hassled here.’ Oh, how Harper missed the days of assistants and grouchy security guys who’d stop anyone hassling her with one look. But then she was too busy working or staring at her phone to notice or care.
But not today, when her own phone had over two hundred messages waiting for her. She’d switched it off and hid it at the bottom of her bag. She felt like Ash, hiding from her responsibilities.
But she was on holidays, too. And this was her first chance at seeing the town with a local, where Bree knew everyone and all the best places. It was so good to be out amongst civilisation again.
‘This is also for work. I have cattle brands to deliver.’ Bree tapped at the long heavy rods wrapped in bubble wrap. Each one, clearly labelled, and secured to the top of Mason’s pram. ‘Stay here, I’ll get you some wine as a pre-lunch drink.’ Bree hoisted the long metal rolls over her shoulder and approached the bar. She spoke with the mean-looking barmaid wearing a leather vest, with arms covered in ink. She looked like someone who’d manage an outlaw bikers’ bar, not an outback pub frequented by cowboys.
Bree soon returned with a glass of wine in one hand and a beer in the other. ‘This is for you.’
‘Thank you.’ She took the wineglass as Bree unlocked the pram’s brake and effortlessly steered it across the room.
‘So, you weld brands that they stick onto cows? Like a tattoo designer?’
Bree laughed. Not a giggle but a head back, riotous laugh that had everyone stopping to stare, even little Mason peeked out from behind his pram’s canopy to smile.
‘What did I say?’ Harper shrugged her shoulders high.
‘I’m a blacksmith. I shape and bend hot metals into a design that represents a station or a farmer’s family name, which they then slap onto the rump of their livestock.’
‘And you deliver these tools of torture to the pub?’ Harper couldn’t keep her face straight, not with Bree still laughing at her.
‘You could say that. The pub is like the stock exchange.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Sure, it is.’ Again, Bree shared that evil laugh. ‘We all deal with live stock . It’s also central to where the stock men deliver their cattle stock to the train station across the road where the stock inspectors and stock agents do their thing. And then when they’re all done, they’ll toddle across the train tracks, to grace this bar with their presence. Where they all partake in an icy cold beverage on a hot day, to wash away the stock yard’s dust from their teeth. Only to pause in their gossipy tall tales to listen to the mighty sounds of that big ol’ train chugging their cattle off to the stock market.’
‘Are you making that up?’
Bree winked at her. ‘I’ve ordered takeaway for dinner, because I’m not cooking tonight and you don’t cook, which means you’ll have time for a riding lesson.’
‘I can ride, but it’s been a while.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Where do I get clothes?’
‘Not the designer labels you’d wear, blossom. I don’t even think they’d stock those brands in the Northern Territory.’
‘Ha-ha. I was talking about riding gear. I don’t have the right shoes for horse riding. Or whatever it is you wear on a muster.’
‘After lunch, I’ll take you to the stock feed store.’
‘Stop.’ Even if Harper couldn’t stop giggling with Bree. The whole trip had been fun, starting with Bree making them sing to her eclectic playlist on the drive into town. ‘Now that sort of store sounds like fun. Not.’
‘It’s where you’ll get jeans. A decent set of workboots, sun-protective work shirts, and a hat.’
‘I’ve never bothered with hats.’ She touched her tender bald spot that surrounded the scar on her scalp, brushing over her hair to hide it.
‘We are not leaving town today without a hat for each of you. I won’t let you two go on this muster unless properly dressed. Not on my watch. You hear that, Mason? We’ll get you a proper hat and make you the best dressed stockman in the district.’ She playfully tickled the boy’s knee. ‘Don’t worry, blossom, I’m sure you’ll give it that polished politician’s look.’ Bree led them to the far corner of the front bar where the cowboys had turned to watch them.
Bree was oblivious to the attention, even if she was stunning with her red hair and that dress. ‘Oh, we’ve got a grog order to collect on our way out of town, too. You can pick up some wine for yourself.’
How Bree did everything without any notes, or a list, was a miracle. The redhead remembered everything, like she had a photographic memory.
She pulled out a chair for Harper, then expertly parked Mason’s pram at the table so he could see the room.
Bree controlled the pram with ease, while Harper didn’t even know where the pram’s brake was, let alone how to erect the thing when it came out of the car, or how to steer straight. She could drive all sorts of vehicles, had an overseas driver’s license and had driven in many countries, yet she was uncomfortable steering a freaking pram.
From the other side of the room, Bree carried over a highchair. ‘I’ll be prepping our camp meals tonight, now I have the supplies.’ She effortlessly set Mason in the highchair, with his sippy cup, crayons, and colouring paper.
‘You’ve ordered a lot of supplies.’ In the supermarket, Bree knew everyone and would stop and talk, introducing Harper. Normally Harper had a memory for names, but she struggled to keep up as Bree filled three trollies full of food that the supermarket staff were packing into special freezer boxes for the drive home, for them to collect after lunch.
‘The farmhouse has a big pantry that needed to be restocked.’ Seated at the table, Bree handed out laminated menus.
Harper sipped her wine, which was such a simple luxury to add to this impromptu day. ‘You care about the Riggs brothers, don’t you?’
‘Mason, you—sure. The boys? Meh. We’ll see what stock they’re made of on the muster. It’ll be a test, that’s for sure. It’s Ryder’s shout for lunch, by the way, so let’s go top shelf.’
???
‘I’ve never done this.’ Harper put her cutlery down on her lunch plate.
‘Done what?’ Bree whisked their empty plates away, putting them on a spare table to give them room. She had one foot on the pram’s footrest, rocking it gently back and forth as little Mason had fallen asleep not long into his lunch, hugging his crayons.
‘Had lunch in town. Even if it is the pub.’ The walls had large old black-and-white images of the town, a vintage train, and herds of cattle. Even old posters of rodeos and boxing shows. The antiquated collection gave the place character.
‘I try to every time I come into town. What’s your excuse, when you come from a land of takeaway stores and restaurants?’
‘I was always working. For lunch I’d scoff something at my desk—if I remembered to eat. Or I’d be picking at noodle boxes of Chinese takeaway in the boardroom while discussing work with the team. But this …’ Harper leaned back in her chair, fully satiated, sipping on her wine. She wanted to be like Mason and fall asleep in his pram.
Bree narrowed her eyes at Harper. ‘Don’t you do anything for yourself?’
Harper shrugged.
‘So, no lazing around on the couch, watching chick flicks, getting brain freeze while eating ice cream?’
‘No.’
‘When was the last movie you watched?’
‘It was on the plane …’
‘Do you remember its title?’
‘No. I fell asleep.’ Until the nightmares woke her.
But a rush of feel-good warmth filled her chest at the thought of Ash leaving out her shortbread biscuits, where she’d confessed her nightmare to him. It meant a lot that he’d done that for her. No one had done something like that before.
Most of all, Ash was hoping to bond with Mason on this muster. It was the only reason why she was daring to go so far out of her comfort zone.
‘Bree?’ A cowboy with blond curls waved at her as he walked in through the back door. Complete with a big shiny rodeo belt buckle and a swagger in some nice hip-hugging jeans, the man was so hot, he deserved his own cowboy calendar to show off the season for summer.
Bree waved.
‘Who is that?’ Harper whispered.
‘Cowboy Craig.’
‘Isn’t calling a stockman a cowboy an insult?’
‘It is. Sweetie, they’re cattle men , not cow boys .’
‘But that, him, Craig …’ Did she say hot?
‘I’m sure it ticked off Craig at one stage. But Craig being who he is, would’ve claimed it as his own. Everyone knows him as Cowboy Craig, now.’
‘Why would anyone want to offend that— him ?’ And that hip-swaying rugged walk of a real-deal cowboy. He was the ultimate thirst trap that would go viral on social media.
‘Because they were jealous of Craig. He has a way with women, they can’t resist.’ Bree arched an eyebrow at Harper.
Harper cleared her throat, blinking fast, as she sat straighter. ‘Like Ash.’ The other player she knew. Who filled out his jeans better than Craig, and had that dimple when he smiled, and when he wasn’t wearing his hat his hair would fall across his forehead. And … Stop! Stop. She had put boundaries in place to ward off Ash, who was only doing that for sport, not because he was attracted to her.
‘Oh, honey, Ash is a child,’ said Bree. ‘Craig is the big leagues.’
‘There’s my favourite redhead.’ Craig leaned over and kissed Bree’s cheek. ‘Keeping out of trouble?’
‘Never. Craig, meet Harper. And before you start, she’s with the Riggs brothers. The baby is part of that mob.’
‘Hey, Harper.’ Craig’s hand was huge, shaking her hand firmly. ‘Good shake.’ He nodded at Harper with approval. He then scooped up the nearest chair, spun it around, to sit on it like a saddle, just like Ash did. But she liked the way the denim snugly fit across Ash’s thighs more, and his strong hands with the deep tan. Stop it!
‘Jonathan told me his brothers bought Elsie Creek Station.’ Craig pushed up the brim of his hat allowing the lights to capture his stunning blue eyes. ‘I hope you’re giving them hell, Bree?’
Bree’s laugh had an evil edge to it.
‘That’s my girl.’
The pub’s front door opened, and another man walked inside, dressed like he was going to the country club in the summer. It’s what Harper was used to, men in linen shirts, tailored trousers, and yacht-loving loafers, complete with a set of aviators pushing back his wild black hair.
‘Oi, over here, pretty boy.’ Craig waved to the new arrival.
‘There you are, bubble butt. And in good company, I see.’ The guy approached the table. ‘Hey, Bree. Long time, no see.’
And it was another man to kiss Bree’s cheek.
‘This is Harper. She’s with the Riggs brothers,’ said Craig. ‘Harper, this is the puppy-pandering, flying vet.’
‘Ryan.’ He shook Harper’s hand. ‘Good shake.’
‘I said so, too.’ Craig gave another nod of approval.
‘Which brother are you with?’ Ryan sat on the chair properly, crossing his leg over his knee, exposing sockless loafers, unlike Craig dressed like the rest of the men at the bar.
‘Ash,’ replied Bree, grinning at Harper. ‘That’s his son.’
‘Oh, wow.’ Craig’s brow creased. ‘But that dirty dog was with—’
‘I’m not with Ash.’ Harper blurted out as Bree devilishly giggled. But there was a flush of heat to her cheeks, that indicated she kind of hoped she was. Not. No. Stop it. This internal struggle was awful. She’d never been like this.
‘Which one is Ash?’ Ryan asked Craig.
‘Ash is the one that’s older than Jonathan, and younger than Cap.’
‘I know Cap well.’ Ryan nodded. ‘Cap is a good man. He’s saved countless canines over the years. If either of you ever need me for any of Cap’s dogs, don’t hesitate to find my surgery behind the supermarket.’
‘I can give you my number, if you want, Harper?’ Craig bobbed his eyebrows up and down.
Oh boy, Craig was a player. Big time. She peeked at Bree for help.
‘Craig, your phone number is written on the wall in the women’s toilets.’ Bree pointed to the doors that led to the amenities.
‘So, we’ve heard. We should take a look.’ Ryan spoke to Craig, ‘But first, my friend, you can order me a lemon, lime and bitters.’ He checked his watch. ‘I’m still on the clock.’
Oh, how Harper remembered that feeling well. Rubbing her own bare wrist, missing her watch.
‘In a sec …’ Craig leaned his elbow on the table, the smile gone and his voice low. ‘How’s Charlie, Bree?’
‘Good.’
‘Any more trouble from that prick next door?’
‘Not since the brothers moved in. But Leo is after their water now.’
‘I heard. New mine, huh?’
Bree nodded. ‘If you hear of anything about this mine, please let me know.’
‘Sure. But do you really want to bother if Elsie Creek Station has new owners?’
‘Only while we’re still out there, I care.’
‘You do realise Jonathan’s brothers are tough enough to handle anything?’
Bree shrugged. ‘I only met them when they moved in with their boxes and convoy of utes.’
‘I’ve met Dex a few times now. He’s an animal in those illegal fighting pits. Underground champion three years in a row.’
‘How do you know?’ Ryan asked, while Harper’s eyes widened at this news.
‘I’ve been to a Riggs family Christmas. Flew down with Jonathan in their cousin Monet’s plane. Their mother, Cammie, is a nice lady. You’d like her, Bree. And she’d love you.’
‘Do you know Ash?’ Harper had to know the gossip.
Craig’s stunning blue eyes landed on her. She had to sit back and remember to breathe. ‘Yeah. Ash is a gamer and a player, with a reputation for keeping a strict dating shelf-life of two weeks with the women.’
‘I already said I’m not with Ash.’
‘Are you jealous?’ Ryan nudged Craig with his elbow.
‘Not now, I’m not.’ Craig’s crooked smile offset his tan, as he sat back, keeping his eyes heavy on Harper as if touching her with his hands. She swallowed hard.
‘Behave, Craig,’ warned Bree. ‘I don’t need you breaking my friend’s heart.’
Friend? It was such a warm and welcoming word Harper sat higher, as Bree gave her a sly wink as if to say I’ve got your back.
‘What I want to know,’ said Bree, ‘is whether the Riggs brothers are good stockmen.’
Craig rubbed the back of his strong neck. ‘I worked with Ash on a muster in the Kimberleys.’
‘And?’
‘Ash isn’t as good as you, but he can hold his own. So can Dex and Cap.’
‘What about Ryder Riggs?’ Bree’s eyes seemed hyper focused.
‘Ryder’s the oldest one, isn’t he?’ the vet asked.
Harper nodded, keen to learn the gossip as they leaned closer, voices hushed, and their blend of male colognes, divine. It was just another thing Harper missed from the land away from cattle and dust.
‘What do you know about Ryder?’ Bree asked Craig.
‘Nothing.’
‘What do you mean, nothing?’ Ryan scoffed at Craig. ‘You know everything about everyone.’
Craig shrugged. ‘All I know is Ryder is the oldest son. He’s a chopper pilot. And he’s rich. But no one knows how rich, or how he made his money. Is it true Ryder paid for the station with cash?’
Bree barely nodded. ‘The others chipped in, too.’
Harper’s eyes widened. The station had to be worth twenty million dollars. Who had that kind of cash?
‘What else have you heard about Ryder?’ Bree asked.
‘Well, according to Jonathan,’ continued Craig, ‘Ryder is the only one who’ll take on Dex, and whip his arse, too.’
‘But you said Dex was a champion?’ This conversation had Harper sitting on the edge of her seat.
‘But Ryder’s got some mean military training, too. Dex is lethal, but who knows what Ryder is?’
‘Are we safe out there?’ Harper faced Bree. ‘Is Mason safe with them?’ Even if she had a good experience with the military, it had her worried that the two oldest Riggs brothers might physically fight each other in Mason’s presence.
‘Of course he is.’ Bree put her hand on Harper’s arm. ‘You’re well protected under the Riggs brothers’ roof.’
‘I agree,’ said Craig.
‘Here, here.’ Ryan raised his finger. ‘Cap is part of that family. And I know that man would do anything to protect his dogs. He’d rather feed them first than himself. Can you imagine how far they’d go to protect their family?’
Still, it didn’t put Harper’s mind at ease.
‘Oi. Are you lot hassling these ladies?’ Demanded the grumpy middle-aged chef, carrying bags of foil-wrapped food.
‘No chance of that,’ said Craig. ‘Bree’s like a sister.’
‘All good, Lenny.’ Bree stood from the table. ‘Is that our order?’
‘It is.’ Lenny, the chef, handed the bags to Bree. ‘Tell Charlie I’ll be out in a few weeks.’ Lenny’s accent sounded like it was Hungarian.
‘You say that all the time.’
‘I’ll get there when I get there,’ the chef grumbled. ‘But I’ll bring cupcakes, when I do.’
‘Aww, you know me so well.’ Bree grinned as Lenny kissed her cheek, gave her a wink, then headed back to the kitchen.
‘I always bring out cupcakes, too. It’s the standard entry fee to the caretaker’s cottage to crash on the world’s greatest couch.’ Craig stood tall, hitching up his belt where the light caught on the shiny champion rodeo buckle. ‘Tell Charlie I’ll visit when I can.’
Bree gave his arm a squeeze. ‘The old man would love to see you, but he’ll be busy for the next week.’
‘Lemme guess …’ Craig poked up the brim of his hat. ‘If you’re in town in the middle of the week, stocking up on Lenny’s tucker, when you’re a damned fine cook, you’re going on a muster.’
‘Shh.’ Bree held her finger over her lips. ‘Tell no one.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ll explain it later. I promise.’
‘Do you need a hand?’
‘No. It’s the Riggs brothers’ first muster.’
‘I see.’ Craig nodded, with hands on his hips. ‘You know me, I won’t say nothing. But you know my number, all you have to do is hit speed dial and I’ll be there. No questions asked.’
‘I know.’
‘And that’s a big fat ditto from the sexiest man in the room,’ said Ryan, pointing at himself.
Harper burst out laughing.
Even Craig chuckled as he elbowed the vet. ‘You’ll keep, puppy panderer.’
‘Get over ya’self, bubble butt.’
‘And on that note, we’re leaving.’ Bree began pushing the pram for the door.
Harper followed. ‘Nice to meet you, gentlemen.’
‘She called us gentlemen. Did you hear that, puppy panderer?’ Craig nudged Ryan.
‘She was talking about me, because she obviously doesn’t know you yet. Can we help carry those bags to the car, ladies?’
‘We’re good. You guys go play nice over lunch. We’ll see you next time.’ Bree pushed the pram out the door, with Harper following.
Harper winced at the sunlight, sliding on her sunglasses. ‘You know, we still got hassled in that pub.’
‘Those two weren’t hassling us.’ Bree covered over the pram with a small blanket to shield the sleeping boy from the sun. ‘But I get what you’re saying. A single girl in a bar, of course you’d get hit on.’
‘Why? I’ve sat in plenty of bars across the globe and never got hassled.’
‘I think the ratio of men to women in this town is something like twenty to one.’
‘No way. How come you’re single, then?’
‘Why are you?’
‘I’ve never really …’ Harper shyly shrugged.
Bree stopped the pram on the sidewalk and turned to Harper. ‘Do I have to tell you about the birds and the bees?’
‘Nick off.’
‘Finally.’ She nudged Harper’s arm. ‘I like this playful side to you. It beats the deer in the headlights look you had going on.’
‘I’m learning.’
‘That you are.’ Bree swung her arm over Harper’s shoulders and gave her a tender squeeze. ‘By the time the muster is over, you’ll be a whole new you. But first, let’s get you dressed for the part.’