Sixteen
Red dust stained the sun, to fall like fire from the sky. It was in her hair, layered on her skin like sandpaper, and rubbed inside her clothes, but Mia couldn’t wipe the smile off her dust-covered face as she steered the quad bike alongside Charlie, with Harper driving the Razorback where little Mason waved from his baby’s seat.
Before dawn, they’d left the sheds in their small convoy of vehicles. It hadn’t taken long to spot the dust cloud’s long trail of red smoke you’d expect from a bushfire that signified the herd was on the move.
As the sky shifted from a mushroom pink, to slithers of soft blue, with the escarpment behind them, the large herd of cattle walked behind Bree on horseback.
Bree, with her thick red braid running down her back, resembled a fierce warrior on her mighty black stallion, with two shotguns in her saddle, effortlessly commanding an entire herd of over a thousand head of moving boulders of beef with sharp wide horns. And the Brahman were massive.
Mia was grateful to be placed at the rear of the slow-moving herd, with Charlie giving her pointers as they rode on either side of the Razorback. Even covered in dust, it was the best view of how they mustered the herd.
Cap was stunning to watch as he effortlessly rode his horse as if born in the saddle. From there, he whistled and gave curt commands to the dozen cattle dogs that circled the herd, keeping them contained.
The muster dogs moved as a team, each taking a post, backing each other up as they barked at a cheeky bull to move along, or they’d just circle the slow-moving, dust-stirring herd without a sound, to keep the cattlecalm and moving.
It was pure poetry to watch the muster dogs in action, and how effortlessly Cap controlled them all. It only made her admiration for the man deepen.
Commanding the air, Ryder piloted the helicopter. It swooped in an impressive aerial display that had Mia spellbound. Over the radio, Ryder coordinated the ground crews while using the swift moving chopper to channel the strays towards either Ash on a motorbike, or Dex on his fast horse, to bring the stray cattle in to join the main herd.
That’s where the muster dogs took over to keep them contained, while Bree led them closer to the fencing channel that grew narrower like a funnel collects liquids to fill a bottle.
By then they’d become one big line of vehicles, bikes, dogs, and horses, with the helicopter shadowing above, to form an impenetrable wall, giving the herd a final push past the hessian wings and through the wide-open gates.
As the last of the herd passed through, Bree shut the gate with a clang, and the herd was contained.
A cool breeze blew the red dust away like a veil being lifted to expose an enormous cornflower blue sky and a large, roofed structure, with lots of yards made of thick rails taller than Mia.
It was the drafting yards.
Bree removed her hat, lowering her scarf she had covering her nose and mouth, and wiped the dirt and sweat from her brow. ‘And my job is done.’ She slapped her hat on her head and trotted away on her towering black horse. ‘I have a hot shower owed to me.’
‘Aw, come on, Bree, we could really do with your help to man the gates,’ said Dex, circling her with his horse.
‘Hey, hold up, kid. Job’s not done yet.’ Charlie scrambled off his bike to grab her horse’s reins.
Nearby, Ryder landed his helicopter in the open field as Harper parked the Razorback alongside Ash’s bike. That’s where Mia parked the quad, wiping at the thick dust covering her face and staining her clothes.
‘We can start training Harper to do the sticks,’ said Charlie, still holding Bree’s horse in place.
‘I can’t wait to learn,’ said Harper.
‘See, kid. I’ll need help with the training.’
‘Pop, my care factor has hit the I-don’t-give-a-damn level.’ Sitting high in the saddle, Bree didn’t look impressed at all.
‘There’s only three of them in the pit, until Cap gets Mia confident enough with Willow at the back. Please do it for me, kid. We’ll just do the sortin’ today. That’s all.’ Charlie patted Bree’s denim thigh in a fatherly manner. ‘With you on board, we can knock over that part of the draft in no time, to let them lads finish the rest, and do Cap’s deck on Saturday, just like you planned. Then Mia can move into her new room and start working, which you said would be good for the girl.’
‘But—’ Mia went to say something, but Dex—the bully—blocked her view using his horse to get in the way, while shaking his head at Mia to shut up.
Mia glared at Dex. She hated being used as a tool to manipulate Bree.
‘How many more days in the drafting yards have we got left, kid?’ Charlie was good.
‘Oh, man.’ Bree slapped her hat back on her head and climbed off her saddle. ‘You owe me big time, old man.’ Bree led her horse away to the shaded trough where she began unsaddling the horse with Dex beside her.
Harper passed Mia a bottle of icy cold water, fresh from the large esky that sat on the back of the Razorback. ‘I’m starting to think that this might not be fun.’ She pointed at Bree, who didn’t look happy at all.
‘Nah.’ Charlie hitched up his trousers as he headed for the gates. ‘The kid’s been up all night. It’s not easy mustering under moonlight, takes a lot out of you, but she’ll be right, you’ll see. But you two, c’mere. First lesson about the yards.’ He pointed to the tall, thick-railed gates. ‘Never, ever, under any circumstances, do you ever put your hands, fingers, tongues, or toes anywhere near these gate panels. Especially when you’ve got a bull charging at you. They’ll hit the fence with a full tonne of their weight, and if your hand’s caught you’ll lose digits.’
‘Now, that sounds scary.’ Harper gulped, looking at Ash by the Razorback.
Ash scooped his son out of the baby seat and slung one arm around Harper’s shoulders. ‘It’s all good, babe. If you and Mason stay up there on the high boards with Charlie, you’ll have the best time.’ He passed Harper the baby carrier.
‘Mason’s growing out of this.’ Harper clipped it over her shoulders, then around her waist.
‘I can see that. Did you bring that box out?’
‘I tucked it under the passenger seat. Next to the spotlight.’
‘Cool.’ Ash rummaged under the seat, while holding Mason, who was eagerly pointing at the cattle and babbling.
‘Can you?’ Harper turned her back to Mia. ‘I can’t reach the back clip.’
‘Oh, sure.’ Mia clipped it into place; it was the first time she’d done that, when she’d done her best to avoid all things that involved babies and small children.
‘Where are you going to be, Ash?’ asked Harper.
‘We’ll be in the pit. Charlie can explain what our jobs are.’ Ash helped Harper slide the toddler into the pouch, then kissed Harper’s cheek, sharing a tender smile that openly showed his love for her.
Ash then ruffled the boy’s hair, kissing his son’s forehead, before slinging on his hat and tucking the box under his arm. ‘Look after them, Charlie.’ Ash warned, as he ducked under some of the rails.
‘Pfft, they’ll be fine.’ Charlie’s voice was like gravel. ‘Harper, you can follow me. Mia, you go with Cap. That dog of yours is keen to get in on the action.’
‘Willow is not my dog.’ Willow sat by Mia’s leg, whimpering with excitement, her body quivering as if being held back by an invisible string. ‘I don’t want her to get hurt.’ The cattle were so big, they were nothing like sheep who had wool to soften the impact.
‘That dog is smart. And by the look of her, she’s been here before. Don’t worry, Cap will help you, he’s a pro at this.’ Charlie hobbled up a metal staircase to the thick planked walkway with Harper following while holding Mason to her chest.
‘We’ll be watching.’ Harper encouraged little Mason to wave at her.
Wearing his tiny cowboy hat, the toddler Mason was as dirty as the rest of them, but just as excited. ‘Wiwow?’
‘Wil-low,’ corrected Harper.
The boy moved his mouth as if mumbling the word to himself. ‘Wil-low?’
‘That’s it, good boy.’
‘Willow.’ Mason’s eyes were as wide as his smile as he waved at Mia and Willow. ‘ Willow. ’
‘That’s right, Mason, we’ll be Team Willow .’ Harper gave Mia a double thumbs up, with the small boy copying her.
It only filled Mia with such a rush of feel-good warmth, she had to be smiling brighter than the sun.
All morning she’d felt part of a team mustering the mob. With everyone willingly helping her, Mia felt like she belonged. Sure, she may be a farm girl, but this was different because cattle were ten times bigger than sheep and they came with pointed horns.
Used to shearing sheds, the drafting yards were bigger than she’d expected. They contained a complex maze of railed yards she had to jump or duck under to catch up with Cap, who was with his brothers in a round yard where a fire was blazing in an old fire pit.
‘Good, you’re here.’ Cap gave her arm a squeeze before crouching down to Willow. ‘Are you ready to stretch those legs, girl?’ The dog loved Cap, her tongue lolling to the side as she got a hearty pat from the man.
‘I’d take that as a good sign.’ Dex strapped on some thick leather chaps over his denim jeans and then some thick gloves like Bree wore in the blacksmith’s shed. He then removed a long rod that had been sitting amongst the hot coals of a roaring fire. ‘Behold, brothers, it’s the brand .’
He held up the metal rod like a sword under the sun, its red glowing tip a complex series of bent metal.
Dex pushed the end of the rod against an old log as smoke curled like wisps of fog around the metal edges, leaving behind a mark in the wood: E. C. S.
Elsie Creek Station.
Like the Riggs brothers, Mia leaned in for a closer look and raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Oh, wow. It’s so pretty and so unusual.’ The letters intertwined in an intricate pattern, like old-fashioned lace, but made of steel.
‘It’s an original legacy brand made back in 1902.’ Dex’s eyes shone as if holding the holy grail. ‘Charlie’s grandfather made this. The patterning is flawless.’
‘I see now why they call Charlie’s family master brand makers.’ Ash nodded with admiration while shifting the small box to his hip.
‘Do they still fire-brand cattle?’ Mia asked. Dumb question when they had the fire pit and the brand. ‘Dad painted the sheep or branded certain ram’s horns, or used tags.’
‘If we don’t and they wander, anyone can lay claim to them,’ explained Cap. ‘In the city dogs, cats, even horses get tattooed and microchipped to make them identifiable to their owners. Branding is the same for cattle, pigs, goats, even alpacas. And in the Northern Territory it’s compulsory for cattle to be branded from eight months of age.’
‘It’s a tradition that’s been around for centuries, girlie,’ hollered Charlie, high on the stands. ‘But you’ll find no finer branding iron than that one. It’s art.’
‘Nothing wrong with his hearing, is there?’ Ash chuckled.
‘Bree? Got that salve, kid?’ Charlie whistled.
‘Yeah, I’m coming.’ Bree climbed under the rails, dragging a heavy bucket and a large garbage bag.
‘For you.’ Dumping the garbage bag, Bree peeled back the bucket’s lid and gave the thick goo inside a stir with a long-handled flat spoon. She then wrapped the end of the spoon with a thick cloth that soaked up the goo. ‘In the garbage bag, you’ll find spare rags to change these cloths when needed. I designed this flat spoon to wrap these rags around the end with a quick release, so you don’t get the muck on your hands.’ Bree was known for making all sorts of gadgets to make life easier, like her homemade shower. ‘I’d recommend you do a change every ten brands. Toss the rags into the fire, it’s not toxic, but it really arcs the flames to give you a good coal to reheat the branding iron in half the time.’
‘What is it?’ Dex sniffed at the goo that smelled of eucalyptus, screwing his nose at it. ‘Not another one of your witchy potions, is it? Should I buy you a broomstick?’
‘Listen, stormcloud, I don’t mind being the villain in your story, just know that you’re the clown in mine ?. I’ll get you a costume, complete with green hair and a red nose, and I’ll wear a cape. I’ve always wanted a cape.’ Bree’s green eyes sparkled with the hint of a grin, thankfully her bad mood shifting.
‘What is it?’ Ryder’s deep voice cut through their bantering and Ash’s chuckling.
‘It’s a herbal salve my grandmother created specifically for branding.’ Bree stirred the concoction, then used the ladle like tongs to toss the rag into the flame, where it arced and hissed, turning green. Then she slid the branding iron straight into the green glowing coals. ‘Don’t panic, precious, it’s not toxic.’ Bree even winked at Mia. ‘In fact, you’ll be happy to hear that this salve effectively takes the sting out of the branding process, so you’re not causing any harm to the beast.’
‘That’s a relief to hear.’
Charlie hollered from the stands. ‘I use it when I get burnt on the pizza oven. Takes that sting out straight away.’
‘Oh, is that the stuff you gave me, Bree?’ Mia showed her arm. ‘When I got burnt doing the jars when we preserved your tomatoes.’
The men looked at her face, not her arm. Aww, come on. She’d forgotten about the bruising on her face, because it didn’t hurt anymore.
Bree gave her a soft smile. ‘The same, precious.’ She stirred the bucket again, putting the lid back on securely. ‘The other benefit of this salve is that it helps the beasts heal quicker, like an antiseptic tattooist cream, giving you an extremely clean outline of the Elsie Creek Brand on their coats, making it harder to tamper with. It’s one of the tricks of being a brand master, along with how to stoke a good coal fire to ensure the rod is hot enough. But if you want my secret recipe, you’ll have to make a blood oath under a blue moon. Dex can bring his broomstick.’ Bree grinned as she removed the branding iron from the fire; it was now scalding white. It was hotter than an oven. ‘Want me to show you how effective it is on your rump, Dex?’
‘Oi.’ Dex backed away from the redhead with his hand on his butt. ‘Told you I’m not your toy for anger management. I am not the bigger person my mother wanted me to be. I will hit you if you get too close with that branding iron.’
‘Watch yourself.’ Cap thumped Dex’s shoulder while angling his head at Mia.
‘Sorry, Mia. Bree and I were just mucking around.’ Dex wiped a hand over his face, the remorse was so unexpectedly raw and real. ‘Our mother raised us to never hurt a woman, and we’ve got sisters. But give me five seconds with any bloke who’d dare to raise their fists to a woman, and I’d soon sort them out.’
Coming from the professional street fighter, she believed him.
‘It’s fine. I know you were just sharing a joke.’ Mia wished they’d stop treating her like some fragile egg, ready to fall to pieces at any second. She was made of tougher stuff than that. But the constant reminder was wearing her down.
But then she did have her first panic attack yesterday, when running from Leo. It only made her more determined to prove her mental toughness moving forward, giving them an encouraging smile.
‘As long as that ointment works, we’ll use it,’ said Ryder. ‘We appreciate it, Bree.’
‘I’ll add it to the bill.’ Bree slid the branding iron into the large water drum with a hiss, unleashing wisps of curling steam. ‘See you on the other side.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Because of my grandfather’s manipulation, I’ll be helping Charlie with the culling calls in the pound, sorting your stock out like a croupier at a casino.’
‘Oi, what’s that about my calls?’ Charlie barked from the balcony. ‘I know what I’m doing.’
‘I know, Pop. But don’t get cranky when I spot something from the ground.’ Bree then turned to the men; her seriousness shone in her eyes. ‘And don’t think that taints any of Charlie’s calls. He’s got half a century of experience on him.’
‘I know,’ said Cap. ‘We’re lucky to have both of you on board.’
‘I don’t work for you mob, remember that. Take care of Mia, Cap. And Mia? Trust what Cap has to say. Oh, and don’t get jealous if I want to play with your dog in the pound.’
‘Willow is not my dog.’
‘Denial is not a good look on you, precious.’ Bree gave the dog a pat. ‘See you in there, girl.’ She then adjusted her hat, tightened her gloves, and climbed a set of rails like a ladder to pick up a set of long white poles that rested on a boarded walkway. ‘Let’s get going. I’d like to be home before sunset, boys. I’m overdue an ice bath and a decent liver kick of gin.’