Three
The Tojo bounced along the dirt track as Cap changed its gears to enter the deep floodway bearing the sign Leviathan Creek . Large rocks made up the wide creek bed, where towering ghost gums lined the banks. ‘Have you ever seen this causeway flooded?’ he asked Charlie.
‘Plenty of times.’ Charlie leaned his elbow on the passenger door and poked his head out of the window. ‘There’s a spring around the bend, you can let the dogs take a dip.’
‘Could be crocs in that.’
‘Them snapping handbags are everywhere, it’s why I don’t swim, but in the dry it’s clear enough to see the bottom. Bree lets our stockhorses swim there.’
Cap pushed the accelerator and the old ute chugged up the hill, never missing a beat as it made the slight incline. Hitting one of the deep ruts, the Tojo bounced, the dogs barked, and something screamed in the back.
He glanced at the rear-view mirror. ‘What the fates!?’
Cap slammed on the brakes. The red dust swirled around them as he peered through the back window to the cage meant to hold only the dogs.
‘Is that a girl?’ Charlie rubbed at his hat. ‘Cor blimey, she’s gotta have guts of forged steel to climb in there with all those dogs.’
‘What are you doing?’ Cap asked the stowaway hiding in the dog cage, as he opened its back door.
‘Trying not to die.’ On her hands and knees the woman crawled to the door. ‘That last bump was a killer.’
‘Sorry—No, wait. Why are you in the back with my dogs?’ He held his hand out to help her climb free. Her tiny hands were filthy, but her grip was strong.
But when she flung her hair back, he was sucker-punched. All the air left his lungs as if he’d forgotten to breathe, while feeling seriously ill at the same time.
She’d have to be in her late twenties, with windblown knotty hair that brushed her shoulders. Her honey-hazel eyes held a mixture of determination and vulnerability only heightened by the bruising from a whopping black eye, along with the swelling of her bloody nose and split lip.
‘Please tell me I didn’t do that, did I?’ The mortifying thought turned his guts into hot lead.
‘No.’ She hung her head low, brushing her hair forward. Her knuckles were red raw, as if she’d put up a fight.
Charlie hissed in air over his teeth. ‘You alright, girlie?’
‘I…’ With glassy hazel eyes she gave them a meek shrug.
‘Did your house door get ya?’
‘What?’ Cap glared at the old man.
‘That’s what the women would say, back in the day, when their fellas got heavy-handed. I hope you kicked his hiney—’
‘Here, I’ve got an icepack in the first-aid kit.’ Cap dug around behind his seat and pulled out the kit and cracked open an icepack. ‘My brother swears by these for his face. He’s a professional fighter. You?’ Because she looked like she’d just done ten rounds in a boxing ring.
‘I wish. Do you have anything for a headache?’
‘I do.’
She took the icepack with her dirty hands and short nails. They were working hands, and she was dressed in miner’s clothes—a long-sleeved high-viz shirt, blue work pants and steel capped boots.
‘Where are we?’ Holding the icepack to her cheek and split lip, she peered around the deserted road where only the breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees.
‘Near Elsie Creek Station,’ replied Charlie, as Cap dug around in the first-aid kit. ‘Why did you climb in there with them dogs?’
‘I needed to, um…’ Her words became a whisper, ‘get away.’
Cap had guessed that, recognising a stray when he saw one. ‘I’m Cap Riggs, this is Charlie Splint. You are?’ He held out the paracetamol and a bottle of cold water.
‘Mia Dixon’ Her hands trembled as she took the pills, washing them down thirstily.
‘Hi, Mia.’ The poor thing. ‘Do you want me to drive you anywhere? The hospital?’
‘I’m okay.’ She didn’t look okay, bunching up her shirt to hide the splatters of blood.
‘Have you got anywhere you need to be, girlie?’ Charlie asked.
‘I don’t really have a plan.’ She wiped her bloodied nose with the sleeve of her work shirt, which was covered in dirt and dog hair.
Cap held out the roll of toilet paper he’d stashed behind his seat. ‘I don’t have a box of tissues, but this’ll come close.’
She was such a short thing, with a tiny smile, yet her hands trembled, as she took the toilet roll. Her fragile condition was enough to give him ulcers.
‘Well, girlie, this is your lucky day.’ Charlie stepped in closer, wearing a big smile.
‘Oi!’ Cap arched his eyebrows at the insensitive old man.
‘It just so happens I’ve got a couch you can crash on, and a granddaughter near your age. I reckon she’ll take one look at you and become your instant best friend.’
‘Why?’ Mia asked warily.
‘You can ask her when you meet her.’ Charlie opened the passenger door. ‘Come on, girlie. If we get a wriggle on, we’ll get you settled in for dinner. Bree always puts on a good spread.’
‘But…’ Mia hesitated, her thick lashes shading her eyes as she peered up at Cap.
‘I can’t leave you on the road like this.’ Not when Cap wanted to bundle her up and keep her safe. ‘Come on, this road only goes one way. And Charlie’s right, Bree will help you.’ Cap trusted the brassy redhead.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Elsie Creek Station. Home.’ From inside the dog cage, he dragged out a small backpack. ‘Is this yours?’
‘Yeah, thanks.’ She hugged it like a security blanket.
Inside the cage lay large sacks of dry dog food. Nearby, his dogs sat watching, no tails wagging, no barking. Nothing. All of them looking at him with guilty eyes. ‘Where were you hiding?’
‘Behind the dog food.’
He shut the cage door on his abnormally quiet canines. ‘Good dogs.’ That got their tails wagging, because usually no one got within six feet of the Tojo without the dogs going ape.
They must have known something was wrong. And Cap always trusted his dogs’ instincts over humans any day. ‘We’ll take you home, so you can work out what you want to do next. You’ll be safe there, I promise.’ It’s what he promised all the dogs he’d rescued, and he’d never turned away a stray—but this was his first time picking up a human stray, when he did his best to avoid people.
Tucking the first-aid kit back behind his seat, he started the truck and waited. Would she climb in? Or run?