Twenty-three
Under the thick cover of darkness, squeezed into the cab of Ash’s ute, Harper had to hold the handle with both hands to stop her arm and shoulder hitting the passenger door or Mason’s baby seat that sat in the middle. ‘Where is the road?’
Ash pointed with his wrist casually resting on the top of the steering wheel. ‘It’s there. It hasn’t been used in a while.’
‘No kidding.’ It was like they were driving over a path filled with potholes, tufts of tough grasses, and rocks. ‘Where are we going?’
‘We’re driving to the mouth of the Stoneys first. Then we’ll be saddling our horses in time to start the trek at sunrise.’
Charlie and Bree were in the Razorback, a beefy bull catcher, that was way up front with lights so bright on the vehicle it lit up the world. Behind them were Dex and Ryder in a large semi-trailer, towing a huge trailer with all the horses, churning a wall of angry dust behind it. It blended with the sounds of barking dogs coming from the back cage of Cap’s old Tojo.
Ash’s ute was the last vehicle on this rocky road trip to hell. It’s bright row of headlights highlighted the swirling dust and assorted massive bugs that splatted hard against the windshield, making Harper flinch every time.
How did she get talked into this? It was bad enough the ute’s suspension needed a complete overhaul, but she was one on one with Ash, confined to the tiny cab, where she normally struggled to make small talk. But the deafening silence was worse. ‘Did all the horses fit in that truck?’
‘Yep.’ Ash focused on the road ahead. His wide-brimmed hat sat on the dashboard next to hers.
Oh, come on. She tried to think of something else to talk about. Anything to distract from the drone of the vehicle and the silence that was filled with Ash.
‘Did you get any sleep last night?’ She’d heard the men busy on the verandah.
‘I never sleep the night before a muster.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t want to forget anything.’
‘Or you’re just excited.’
‘That too. I love mustering.’ The excitement may have barely curled his lips, but it shone in his gloriously warm eyes.
‘Did you grow up on a station?’
‘No.’ He sniffed heavily, looking out the driver’s window where the sun hadn’t even made its appearance. ‘We grew up in a junkyard.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘We were known as the junk brothers.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘It’s the nickname we copped as kids, because our dad was paid to collect the rubbish lying on the side of the highway, or for towing stranded motorists. Most of the junk he collected got dumped on our property. It’s odd when you see a full-sized yacht perched in a backyard that’s nothing but desert.’
She straightened her new work shirt and brushed down her new jeans. ‘Well, that explains the empty beer cans around the house.’
‘Hey, we kept those cans for Cap.’ He frowned at her. ‘Cap is going to recycle them and use that cash to feed his dogs or pay for any vet fees they need.’
‘And the boxes crowding the farmhouse living room?’ The maze of boxes Mason liked to hide behind.
‘None of us have unpacked yet. Cap can’t until he finds the time to paint his place, and Dex is Dex.’
‘Is it true Dex is living in a tent inside his place?’
‘Dex hasn’t had time to fix it up and unpack his boxes either.’
‘But, it’s been—’
‘None of us have lived in a home for a long time, to want to settle in. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you what I’ve got in those boxes.’
‘How come?’
‘We’ve all worked away. Chasing mustering contracts, I never needed much, just my mustering gear and my PC to play games. But now …’ His grin grew as his eyes focused on the road ahead. ‘We’re doing this for ourselves as the bosses because it’s ours. Home. I should unpack those boxes, huh? That sounds weird, right?’
‘No. I’m not judging you guys about the boxes.’
He arched one eyebrow at her. ‘So for once, you’re actually not judging us?’
She rolled her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘I don’t judge.’
‘Yeah, you do, Harper. You stick that little nose of yours up in the air and look down at things. It must be your background.’
She gasped at him. ‘I don’t mean it that way. I’m just picky.’
‘Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Growing up in a junkyard you get used to being judged.’
She reached out and touched his arm. ‘I don’t mean to be like that, Ash. I swear it.’
He looked at her hand, she pulled it back, curling her fingers into her palm and hid them in her lap. But the heat was felt in her ears with a twinge of shame.
‘I’m not judging you about the boxes or the house, because with my job, I got used to living out of a suitcase, or moving into empty apartments with minimal items, hotels were more homely.’
The vehicle droned on, but the silence between them grew heavier. She couldn’t stand it. Especially when she couldn’t do anything with her hands with no work to occupy her time. Her phone was useless, and there was nothing to see out the windows, just complete darkness—except for the vehicles hidden by the thick dust ahead.
The sad thing was Harper had no friends to talk to about her travel plans. She knew plenty of administrative staff, politicians, and had all sorts of connections and contact details that would fill a phone book. But none of them were friends. Not one.
It was her own fault. She’d never bothered with small talk, never bothered to stop and ask how they were, or learn about other people’s hobbies, when she did nothing except work. She’d never made the time to make friends that didn’t have some hidden political agenda behind it. She had no one.
The realisation created a blanket of loneliness to drape heavily over her. She needed to say something to stop herself from drowning under her thoughts.
‘What can I expect on this muster?’ Besides the inhalation of red dust and the ear-hammering sound of barking dogs, not to mention her spine would need an adjustment after riding this rocky road—and they hadn’t even made it to Wombat Flats.
‘Dust. A lot of dust. But stick near me, and you’ll get through this with a smile.’ He cracked a smile, a faint one, like he’d rather not use it. But it made the world feel a little smaller and a whole lot warmer and cosier. Which wasn’t hard when crammed into the front seat of his ute with a baby car seat and Mason’s bags.
‘When the muster is over, it’ll be a story to share with your friends, family, maybe future children.’ He glanced at Mason, fast asleep from the ute’s sway, his smile gone as his eyes softened. It was a look that made her stomach traitorously flip.
She no longer wanted to do the small talk, she genuinely needed to know more about Ash, especially now she had the time as the ute drove deeper into the outback. ‘So how did you go from junk to cattle?’
‘I scored a summer job while still in school, and it went from there. Cap was the same, except he fell in love with southern winters and did sheep for a bit. Dex, he just followed the fight circuit, which meant a lot of pubs where he’d pick up jobs here and there. And Ryder …’ He sighed, his shoulders sagging.
‘Ryder’s a lot older than you.’
‘He’s almost forty. I’m thirty.’
‘No way.’
‘We’ve all got Dad’s baby face, except Dex and Ryder.’
‘Why do those two argue all the time?’ The two oldest brothers snarled at each other like dogs fighting to be the alpha in the pack.
‘They’re both strong personalities. Ryder’s the natural leader, and Dex doesn’t like being told what to do. Me neither.’
‘But he doesn’t.’
‘Huh?’ His eyes cautiously flashed her way, then back to the dirt road highlighted by the glow of headlights.
‘I get no one likes being told what to do, but Ryder gives all of you plenty of scope to say your piece. He listens.’
‘Ya think?’ His voice was loaded with sarcasm, creating a rigid line between his eyebrows.
‘Ryder is actually doing a good job as a manager.’
‘What do you mean?’ The rigid line between his eyebrows deepened.
‘A good manager helps to nurture and use the skills of his team to get the job done, and Ryder does that with you guys. He’s got Cap looking after the dogs that make up the mustering teams, plus the security details. And Cap is good with all animals. Dex is your mechanic, driver, and part engineer. You—’
‘Make fake cameras and clean troughs. Aww, man…’ He winced, slapping his forehead.
‘You forgot to clean those troughs, didn’t you?’
‘No, I did. They were fine … yesterday-ish. Or was that the day before?’ He fell silent, giving her a fleeting side glance. ‘You’re right.’
‘About what?’
‘I’m not proving myself, am I.’
She didn’t want to hurt his ego any more than he was doing to himself by answering him. ‘Did you bring your drone?’
‘I did. I doubt I’ll have time to use it.’
‘I think you should make the time,’ said the girl always chasing time.
His eyes flicked to hers, then back to the road.
She wriggled in her seat to face him. ‘Can I say something, just between you and me?’
‘And Mason there.’ He nodded at the sleeping baby.
‘Bree told me you aren’t using the helicopter because it’s thick country. Can’t you do the same work with your drone? You’d be able to get it high enough to spot the cows, right?’
‘Sure.’ He shrugged from behind the steering wheel as the ute trundled through the bumpy terrain.
‘Do you have a speaker on it to whistle at them, or something?’
His lips shifted as if to laugh at her.
‘I’m being serious.’ She crossed her arms over her chest.
‘Okay, okay.’
Oomph . Her shoulder thumped into the door as they hit another bump in a road that didn’t exist, making her re-grip the handle.
The twin spheres of headlights met swirls of red dust that made up the road. Occasionally, along the sides, the lights caught the tops of fluffy leafed eucalyptus trees as they drove deeper into the outback under a black night sky. ‘Are you sure this is a road?’
‘It’s a track. Dex is planning on grading the roads soon. I’ve asked Dex to do the driveway first, to make it easier for your car.’ His eyes landed on hers. It only made the space, which smelled intoxicatingly of Ash, seem smaller.
The realisation that Ash had done that for her made her stomach swirl like a ribbon that curled in various directions after being sliced by a pair of sharp scissors. He did all these little things that meant a lot to her, like keeping the pantry’s light on in the farmhouse at night, or putting water bottles in the fridge for her. Leaving the shortbread on the table with her coffee cup cleaned and waiting for her.
Beneath that boyish bravado was someone who cared about keeping those who surrounded him happy. She knew that once he bonded with his son, Mason was going to be one lucky boy. If only Ash would try.
‘You know …’ Ash swiped back his dark hair, as was his habit. ‘I could rig up something with the walkie-talkies. But what’s stopping them from just standing there and staring at it? Some bulls will attack the muster choppers.’
‘Can’t you train them for the future? You use the drone now to check troughs, but you could also use it to move them, or do what you do with cows. Isn’t that your plan? To gamify the station to save on fuel costs etc? Why not try out your drone on this muster to show your brothers what you can do—not that I have a clue what it is that you do, or what I’m to expect on this road trip.’ The start wasn’t very promising.
‘Did Bree explain anything about what happens on a muster?’
‘Only that I’d be swallowing a lot of dust. But I’ve been told to stick close to you, and to never wander far from the campsite. Bree also said it’s better to learn on the job.’ Like she’d done the moment she’d arrived at Elsie Creek Station, as a completely inexperienced nanny.
‘It’s how I was taught—thrown into the deep end.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m not a good swimmer. I believe Bree has kept a lot from me, too. But I do know why you’ve asked me to come.’
‘Yeah, why?’ He gave her a fleeting side glance filled with guilt.
‘You’re trying to save the station and you need Bree and Charlie’s help to do it, by getting those cattle out of this place called Wombat Flats. Am I right?’
‘We wouldn’t have Charlie’s help without Bree—’
‘Who wouldn’t be your muster cook, if I stayed at the house?’
Ash barely nodded. But the dim light from the dashboard deepened the shadows of his knife-edged cheekbones. It was an edge that tempted her to trace them with her fingertips all the way to his pretty boy lips. But that would mean crossing a boundary that neither of them were going to break—especially not with a toddler sleeping between them.
The car rocked as it hit a ditch. She struggled to keep her seat.
‘Sorry.’ His hand rested protectively over Mason’s seat, keeping the boy in place.
She sighed, leaning against the door, holding the handle tight to keep from smacking her head against the passenger window, again. ‘I liked your reason for me coming out, the best.’
‘What’s that? The adventure.’
‘No. Because you wanted to spend quality time with your son, to bond.’
He stared at her for a long beat before glancing at his sleeping son. His eyes returned to the dark road and the massive headlights of the assorted vehicles highlighting the swirling dust.
She was clueless as to which direction they were travelling in. Some adventurous spirit, ha! Not when Harper was the fifth wheel, only here for other reasons than for her usefulness. And in this foreign world, she had no idea how to be useful.
But for the first time, she was going to try. Not just for Mason or Ash, but for herself. It was about time she started living by her own time schedules, without memos, or assistants. Maybe she could use this trip to push away the brain fog caused by that bombing, which had stolen time from her.
It was time to plan her own future—if she survived the next few days in a saddle.