Thirty-two
The herd was massive, slow moving and almost hypnotic. Harper listened to the cattle’s lowing, watched their hips sway, horns bobbing, keeping a pace that was as steady as a crowd streaming through the doors attending a classical ballet performance. All calm and collected.
This was what Bree called The Long Walk.
The pace grew slower the higher they climbed, slimming down to single file as they clip-clopped past the Cascades Spur, where they lapped at the water, to continue their slow trek to Grass Tree Creek.
This morning, with Mason hanging with his father, Harper had to focus on something else and approached Bree, who was packing up camp, tying the last of the large sacks containing their camping gear onto her horses.
‘Can I help?’ Harper asked Bree.
‘Doing what?’
‘The mustering thing?’ Harper didn’t want to be a spectator anymore.
‘For real?’
The Riggs brothers stopped what they were doing to raise a few eyebrows. Ash grinned at her, even giving her a small nod of encouragement as if she’d made him proud. Which was odd when she was doing this to get away from him.
‘Of course you can, missy.’ Charlie nodded with a glimmer in his eyes. ‘Bree, you can start the little miss off with the basics.’ He patted Harper’s shoulder. ‘Good on ya, for having a go. Shows true spirit, that.’
‘Ready for some girl talk?’ Bree slid on her riding gloves. ‘We’ll be bringing up the rear for a bit. Best place to start …’ It was a slow trek, and they talked about anything and everything, and with all this time they shared, Harper finally learned the art of small talk.
From Cascades Spur, Harper took one long look back at Wombat Flats. The cattle were gone, but the place remained untouched. A paradise hidden among the sandstone. Would she ever come back?
But she was so glad she came.
By lunchtime, she was game enough to ride by herself, and shifted with the herd, making it to Grass Tree Creek.
There, Charlie approached her. ‘I reckon you can ride up front with me, girlie.’
Fear had a new flavour and it was dusty sand, along with the pungent methane smell of cattle strolling down a stone corridor. It got into her hair, her ears, her sinuses, down her shirt, rubbing in her bra, and was gritty on her teeth. No one had warned her about this part.
She peered around for Ash, but he was nowhere to be seen among the sea of cattle.
Even though she’d been distancing herself from Ash, she kept remembering that incredible kiss. She may have said one kiss, but Ash only agreed because it was dark, they were in the only tent, and he was a guy who was used to being with different women.
She should never have kissed him.
Riding with Bree had kept her mind off Ash. But this was something entirely different. ‘I’m not ready.’
‘Bree told me on the radio you’d be fine.’
‘Is that because Bree needs to concentrate?’
Charlie scratched at his grey whiskers the same colour as his hair beneath the large Akubra. ‘You feelin’ like the third wheel, huh?’
Harper shrugged.
‘Don’t worry, everyone feels like that on their first muster. At least you can ride.’ He held out the reins to her. ‘If Bree reckons you’re ready, then I reckon you’re ready. It’s you who has to believe you’re ready.’ With his spurs jangling, he swaggered to his horse and hoisted himself into the saddle. ‘I reckon it’d be boring if you didn’t do something new in your day. Always waiting for someone to tell you what to do, when you could take the reins yourself. Just look at where we are, missy? Paradise.’
Harper’s eyes got blurry. She viciously scrubbed at the tears, desperate to stop them forming. Charlie had just described her life and her job, which was to follow orders, solve problems, keep to the schedules, and maintain that paper trail.
Out here, there was none of that. She hadn’t seen a clock in days, let alone picked up a pen or seen a screen. Yet, well out of her comfort zone, it was like she was watching the hands of a stranger as she gathered up the reins and climbed back into the saddle.
She patted the horse’s creamy white mane. She liked this horse, with its caramel-coloured hide and big hooves. No one knew its name, as it was borrowed, but she’d learned to trust it.
Charlie gave her a sharp nod of approval. ‘Might have to get ya your own radio holster, for sure. Come on, missy, let’s get that hat of yours dirty.’
Charlie led them down the winding canyon, where rocks and stones rolled, disturbed by the animals. Then the track widened, and Charlie waited for her to ride alongside, leading the long snaking trail of cattle.
‘Charlie, where do I get a fancy crocodile hatband like yours?’
Charlie chuckled, removing his Akubra to admire the dark brown leather band that wrapped around it. The thick sturdy ridges of the leather were distinctive to the saltwater crocodile. ‘Well, you go out and find your own croc, for sure. Which isn’t too hard when this is crocodile country. Them snapping handbags are scattered everywhere.’
‘Even at Wombat Flats?’ They’d all taken turns to splash around in the creeks.
‘Not unless they’re part billy goat to climb over the escarpments.’ He chuckled, but then he sobered up to peer beneath the brim of his hat. ‘Now, listen here, missy, trust me when I say don’t go swimming anywhere unless it’s a pool. Them swamp puppies are sneaky buggers.’
‘Is that why you have a pool at your place?’
‘That’s Bree’s trough. She’ll dump a load of ice in there to watch ice hockey while drinking her gin. She says it’s the best thing after a hot day on the tools in front of the smithy’s forge. But, for me, I don’t swim.’
‘So how did you get the crocodile band? It’s okay if you got it from the shop. Although, I like how Bree dresses up her hats.’
‘That’s for a purpose, missy.’ Charlie was so at ease in the saddle of his surefooted stockhorse, it was like he was in a lounge chair, he was that laid back.
‘What purpose?’ She tried to copy his stance, shifting her bum, widen the legs and then… Oh, wow! Her spine and hips had found heaven in the saddle. Even the horse she rode nodded in agreement, giving a slight shiver across its shoulders. And everyone was happy.
‘When fencing, or out in the saddle, you can only carry so much. Bree learned to tuck it around her hat. That thin piece of leather is good to tie up your swag, or if your boot starts losing its sole. That cloth band is always good to wrap a cut on your arm to stop flies finding it. I reckon she’s got some wire, a match—’
‘And the Queen of spades playing card?’
‘I gave her that when she caught me cheating at poker. I won’t play with her anymore because she knows all my tells.’ He chuckled, rubbing at the dirt on his ruddy cheeks. ‘But my hatband came to be because I got bit.’
‘Excuse me?’ She wasn’t sure if the old storyteller was telling another tall tale.
‘Back in the day, me and Darcie went hunting for buffalo. When Darcie spotted this ten-carton buff—’
‘A what?’
‘It’s how many cartons of meat you’d get once you take down that buffalo. It’s measurements, like it’s a two-can drive to town, six-can trek to my mate’s house.’
‘You measure the distance in beers?’
‘For sure, mate, it’s the Territory way.’ His cheeky wink made her smile. ‘Anyhoodle, there we were hunting after that buffalo, tracking it to where it had crossed this spring. Darcie reckoned the water was only knee-deep, and it’d be a good place to cross, he said. Little did we know that lying under that dirty water was a two-and-a-half-metre crocodile, just waiting.’
‘Oh, no!’
‘Well, Darcie got through fine, with me right behind him. But when I tried to climb outta that spring, it felt like a stick had jabbed me in the leg. It was only then I looked down and saw my leg was stuck inside this saltie’s mouth.’
Harper gasped, hand to her throat. Her horse must have noticed, lifting its head, she patted its milky mane, which calmed her down, too. ‘What did you do?’
‘I froze and called for Darcie. We couldn’t shoot it, coz if the croc moved it would’ve ripped my leg open. I was surprised it hadn’t. But sure as Monday follows Sunday, I jammed the butt of my gun right between its eyes. It must’ve stunned it enough to let go of my leg, so I could pull the trigger, with Darcie doing the same.’
‘What happened next?’
‘Well, after that, my leg spasmed up something fierce. We wrapped my leg in my shirt and I drove myself to town to see the doctor. Darcie dragged that crocodile carcass back home and gave me the leather as a get-well pressie and I used it to make boots, belt, and my hatband.’ He lifted the leg of his trousers and showed off the scar. ‘It was my prize for surviving.’
She gasped at the size of the jagged scar in his lower calf. ‘You’re lucky you did survive.’
‘Don’t I know it.’ He tapped the brim of his hat with a grin and a sparkle in his eyes.
They rode in silence for a while, concentrating on the slender, rocky path. The constant shift of hooves was like the beat of a thousand drums, blending with the low cattle murmurs.
The path widened, and they were back on the path she remembered. Hooves swapped the clash against rocks, for soft river sand and the slosh of water trickling down the middle of the Stoneys where they followed the water uphill, the direction for home.
‘Reckon you can take the left and play catcher on the wing?’
‘You should write a book interpreting your sayings, starting with catcher on the what? ’ Were they going to start playing baseball?
‘It’s where you try to block off the mob from wandering down the side tracks.’
‘With what? A big baseball glove.’
‘This …’ He held out a rope, bound into a large coil like his stockwhip. ‘You just wave it at them. They’ve seen enough of the stockwhip to listen up. You’ve got this, missy.’
The rope was coarse in her hands, like the reins she’d been holding for hours. Now she understood why Bree wore gloves. ‘I’m getting riding gloves in the future.’
‘If you keep this up, I might have to teach you how to swing a decent stockwhip, for sure.’ Charlie nodded at her and rode to the front, the cattle following. ‘Now, you wait a beat in that gap so none of them think they can play hide and seek through the caves.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘They’re knackered now, so they’ll behave. Just make some noise and your horse will do the rest. It’s what they’re trained to do, and that stockhorse you’ve got is a good one, for sure.’
She wished she knew the horse’s name, as she was relying so heavily on it.
Bree and Charlie shared a close relationship with their stockhorses, compared with the horses the brothers swapped between them as they debated over fuel and vehicle cost comparisons and the benefits to riding horses. Cap was keen on keeping the horses based on the many pluses for the environment. But then the discussion shifted to horse feed and fixing the stables, in between all the other jobs they had. The to-do list for running a station seemed never-ending. No wonder the brothers were grappling with what was a priority when the list grew daily.
It reminded her of days in the office where they’d plan years in advance, down to monthly, weekly, and daily events, allowing for a change in priorities such as anti-terrorist training, or for political scandals where you dropped everything for damage control.
She was pretty sure horse riding and learning how to muster weren’t part of any conventional nanny’s job description. But she’d asked to try.
The nerves were still with her, a mix of fear and excitement, plus that rush of courage in her chest as she kept the cattle together, playing the catcher on the wing.
She didn’t have to do much, the beautiful horse did it all for her. She occasionally gave a yee haw , or a move along , and oi, just like the others did, truly tapping into her inner cowgirl. The time just flew by.
Then Charlie whistled from the far end of the herd, waving his enormous hat in the air. ‘ Take cover, SANDSTORM.’ His words echoed down the cavern to ring in her ears.
Harper froze in her saddle.
Her eyes darted to the tower of red sand swirling like a fire to darken the sun. The wind’s roar was like a hundred jet engines making the world rumble around her.
It was a dusty sandstorm that stretched like an evil cloud of doom to swallow the world and it was coming straight for them.
‘What about the cattle?’ Her horse shifted nervously beneath her.
The cattle’s noses flared, their eyes widened to show the whites as their lowing became more frantic, and the pace of the herd slowed down. They couldn’t go backwards, trapped by towering walls of sandstone.
‘ Careful, the herd’s gonna lock you in. Get outta there …’ Charlie disappeared with the herd that snaked around the bend. Leaving her alone with her horse and lots of cattle, as her ears ached from the sound of the roaring sandstorm.
It was like the cattle spoke in some unknown code. A few nodded their heads, with wild eyes as the herd stopped moving, the cattle lowered their heads to press against each other as if to huddle together. Leaving her with no escape.
‘ Harper? ’ It was Ash, pushing his horse through the cattle. His jacket covered Mason, keeping him safe from the wind, strapped to his chest. ‘ This way. We’ll hide in that alley. ’
He grabbed the reins of her horse, as she hid her face from the wind, holding her saddle as he led them down the stony corridor.
The wind howled as if they were struck on the runway at an airport. The sand whipped at her skin like sandpaper, her hair blowing everywhere. She struggled to even see five feet in front of her, let alone know where Ash was taking them.
They ducked under a ledge off the main thoroughfare and into a cave, the relief from the wind instant.
‘We’ll stop here.’ Ash jumped off his horse, helping her down. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness as he led them deeper into the cave, away from the wind and swirling dust outside. It was like watching the way water churned clothes during the wash cycle of a front-load washing machine, but this was sand. She’d never seen anything like it.
‘Are you okay?’
She nodded, her hair everywhere. ‘Is Mason okay?’
‘He’s fine.’ Ash kept a protective hand over the boy, leading the horses away from the wind that raged outside the cave.
‘We’ll leave the horses here.’ He secured their reins to some rope he wrapped around a rock. ‘Here, you take Mason.’
‘Arper. Arper.’ His little fingers reached out, eager to hug her.
‘I’m here, little man.’ She breathed him in, getting a big cuddle from the boy. She’d missed him.
Ash dragged out his torch and a handgun from his saddlebags.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To make sure we’re alone in this cave. I don’t want any surprises.’ He disappeared around the corner.
Filled with fright, she held Mason to her chest, ‘It’s okay, Mason.’ She huddled against the wall, watching the storm turn day into night.
‘Da-da.’ Mason pointed at the torchlight moving against the walls and the sound of Ash’s boot steps returning. ‘Daddy.’
‘He called you dad.’ She let the boy go and he ran to Ash.
‘Mason did it earlier.’ Ash scooped up the boy. ‘I’m right here, son. I’m right here.’ He set the torch on the ground to illuminate the cave, then dragged out his water bottle and passed it to the boy.
Ash was being a father.
It was everything Harper had hoped for. All the fear and strain she’d put herself through for this trip had been worth it. The tender father–son moment brought tears to her eyes.
‘What’s with you?’ Ash arched an eyebrow at her.
‘You did it.’
‘Did what?’ He handed her the water bottle.
‘You bonded.’
‘It seems like we did, eh, Mason?’ Ash sat down, pressing his back to the wall, and passed a toy horse to his son. Harper sat on the other side of Mason, as he happily played with the horse in the dirt.
‘How long do these sandstorms last?’ Harper hugged her knees as the world disappeared behind a wall of swirling sand, hemmed in by sandstone.
‘I couldn’t say. Could be anything from ten minutes up to an hour, or even longer. I went through a dust storm down south-east way, it lasted six hours. Stripped all the topsoil from the area.’
‘Where are your brothers? Bree?’
He tapped on the UHF radio tucked into its pouch that he wore like a gun’s shoulder holster. ‘Bree, Cap, Ryder, and Dex are in a cave in the back. Charlie found one up front.’
‘You were riding with Cap?’
‘I was. Then moved to the other side.’
‘That was in the back …’ She searched his dark eyes that reflected a swirling world. ‘You came looking for me?’
He’d done that a few times, dropped everything to come to her aid, from the moment they’d met when he fixed her flat tyre, then the spider incident, now this. He’d been her hero.
Ash shrugged, dropping his head in a rare bout of shyness.
‘Have you been avoiding me?’ she asked.
‘I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.’ Ash scowled at her, then at the ground. Picking up a stick, he dragged it across the ground, passing it to his son to play with in the sand.
‘Don’t look so happy about it.’ It was her fault. She should have never agreed to that kiss.
‘It’s not that I didn’t like it.’ Yet Ash rubbed his furrowed brow with frustration. ‘I didn’t want to mess up what you’ve got with Mason.’
‘You’re supposed to be advertising for a real nanny.’
His gaze, ink-black and serious, locked onto hers. ‘What if I told you I don’t want anyone else? Just you.’
She gasped.
‘Would that be so bad?’ He leaned closer. ‘Would it be such a bad idea for you to stay?’
‘I don’t know what to say to that,’ she mumbled, as her heart flipped inside her chest.
‘Well, how about you tell me what you feel?’
She shrugged. ‘This is all new for me.’
‘Me too.’
‘I don’t believe you, because you have a reputation for dating a different girl every two weeks.’ Just the thought of him being with another woman made her blood boil.
‘Are you jealous?’ He tilted his head, his eyes keenly watching her.
She jutted out her chin. ‘No. I don’t get jealous.’
‘How do you know if you’ve never been with anyone to get jealous about?’
She ignored his question, asking one of her own. ‘Do you get jealous?’
‘Right now,’ he said, leaning so close their noses almost touched. ‘If you were to kiss some other guy, I’d turn into Dex and deck that bloke for daring to be in your breathing space. Just the thought of anyone taking you away from me scares me.’
Her eyes widened at his open sincerity. ‘You saying that is so hot. No, wait, that’s just the weather, and this hot cave …’ She fanned herself. Surely, she wasn’t falling for his caveman routine while sitting in a cave. Come on! ‘What are you grinning at? I don’t like that grin.’
It was the cocky, know-it-all grin, the one with the dimple. ‘You like me.’
‘I kissed you, didn’t I?’ She crossed her arms over her chest that prickled with a tingling flash of desire.
‘No, you really like me. Your cheeks are flushed, you’re licking your lips, and your shirt is showing …’ He leaned in and whispered with his hot breath against her ear. ‘Baby, you’re getting turned on.’
Goosebumps exploded across her skin in a heated wave. She shuddered on the spot.
‘When we get home, I’m coming for you.’ His lips nuzzled into her neck as she squirmed.
‘Mason—’
‘Can sleep in his own room.’
‘I’m not that easy.’ She tried to push him away and sit straighter.
‘Fine. What do you want? More flowers? Wine? Chocolates? Dinner?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘All right then, I’ll surprise you. And you will not talk your way out of it.’ He held her chin and kissed her. Pressed his lips against hers so hard she felt his teeth, but most of all, his hunger. This kiss was so much deeper than the last, so much hungrier, and so much hotter, she nearly melted on the spot.
The radio squawked loudly, and Charlie’s voice came over the speaker to echo inside the cave. ‘Sandstorm’s lifting folks. Who got the nanny? I lost her in the storm.’
But the storm in this cave was so much hotter.
‘I’ve got her.’ Ash’s dark, smouldering eyes remained on hers as he spoke over the radio. ‘Harper is with me and Mason. We’re in a cave just off the main track.’
‘Good. Where you at, Bree?’
‘Stuck with the fabulous fart brothers inside this poky cave. Remind me to never feed these boys beans again.’
‘It’s the horses, Bree, not us,’ came Dex’s voice.
That’s when the sand fell like a wall of rain to reveal clear blue skies and sunshine.
‘Come on.’ Ash picked up Mason and held his hand out to Harper. ‘Let’s go join the rest of the party.’
‘What will they say?’
‘I don’t care what they say, Harper.’ He pulled her closer, slinging his arm over her shoulder, and tenderly kissed her temple. ‘Right now, none of them matter. I just care about you, me, and Mason. I want us to be a family.’