Chapter 18 #2
Cowboy Craig fiddled with his wide-brimmed hat, checking over the brim and the lining as part of his thought process before addressing the room.
‘Here’s the thing—before an animal even sets a hoof in the sale yards, it’s gotta pass a stack of checks.
First off, there’s the vendor declaration—that lists everything from vaccinations to past treatments, right down to the bloody tick baths.
Then you’ve got the National Livestock Identification System (NLIS) scan, where the microchip’s supposed to match up with the branding and paperwork.
Not to mention the pre-sale inspection, where a vet or auction rep checks for signs of disease, injury, or tampering.
If an animal’s brand doesn’t match the papers, or if the microchip’s off, or if there’s even a whiff of something dodgy, it doesn’t go up for sale.
No way in hell. And I know Lydia runs a tight ship in those stockyards.
If the paperwork even looks funny, she won’t let it through.
’ He shook his head, the worry deepening.
‘So how did a high-value horse like that slip through every single checkpoint to get sold at an auction?’ Porter asked.
‘I dunno.’ Craig shook his head with disgust. ‘Because it even got past me.’
‘How?’ Bree asked, as if in disbelief.
‘I saw the brand, sure. But I figured the scarring was from a botched job or some old injury—common enough out bush. And look…’ Craig pointed to the image enlarged on the screen. ‘Second brands happen all the time with ownership transfers. Especially when the paperwork checks out.’
‘That’s true.’ Bree again, gave Craig a nod, this time one of support.
Craig turned to Amara. ‘I know I went over that horse and the papers thoroughly, because I wanted you to have him. I could see how much it meant to you.’
‘I know you did. We both did.’ Amara gave him a soft smile.
Craig let out a breath, loaded with guilt he didn’t need to carry. Yet, he faced her, in front of everyone, with his hat pressed tight to his chest. ‘I’m sorry, Amara. I should’ve seen it.’
Porter and Stone both patted Craig’s shoulders, as if to help brush off the guilt Craig must have been feeling. Craig was a good stock inspector, and that horse got past him, too.
‘It’s not your fault, Craig.’ She flicked him a small smile—he’d only been trying to help.
‘I had custody of Lot 728 for almost a week before I noticed it. You wouldn’t believe how much hair I brushed off that horse.
With the winter coat, and half the Territory’s dirt stuck to him, the brand was half-hidden.
’ She could come up with all the excuses, but it got past her, too.
What sort of Stock Squad officer was she?
‘Right…’ Finn’s palms slapped the tabletop, effectively snapping everyone out of their sullen mood. ‘Constable, let’s go to the stockyard.’
‘I’ll go,’ volunteered Craig, slapping his hat back on.
‘No. You’re too close to Lydia on this one. Sorry, mate. How about you and Stone do a quick sweep of the roadhouses and truck stops for information?’
‘We’ll take the chopper,’ said Stone.
‘You have Porter at your disposal,’ said Marcus, the station’s OIC, who had arms on him like a bodybuilder. ‘Tanisha, too.’
‘Thanks, we appreciate it.’ Finn started to move. ‘The constable and I will—’
‘No, you don’t.’ Bree tugged on Finn’s hand.
‘You’re going to stay and sit right beside me and let me watch you drink that ridiculously big cup of coffee.
Porter and Amara can go.’ Bree loaded up a plate, then handed the boxes of food to Marcus, before nudging the plate closer to Finn, like she was preparing to force-feed him.
‘Shut the door on your way out, you mob.’
Amara frowned. How dare that woman tell Finn—and everyone else—what to do?
But what made it worse, Finn and all the others were complying with the redhead’s orders!
‘Come on, let’s go.’ Porter tugged on Amara’s arm as everyone filed out of the room. He closed the door to the boardroom, effectively trapping Finn inside with his ex-wife. ‘You don’t want to mess with Bree when she’s in a mood. Trust me on this. I’ve known Bree for a while now.’
Amara hesitated, glancing back at the closed door. ‘Will Finn be okay? With his ex-wife?’ Who seemed rather bossy. And clever. Amara didn’t know whether to like the woman or not, when her loyalties lay with Finn.
Porter followed her down the corridor towards the back door. ‘Oh, yeah. Bree’s the dose of medicine I think Finn needs right now.’
At the end of the corridor, Amara paused.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as the pieces fell into place.
She spun around and jabbed at the air between them.
‘You called her, didn’t you? Because that redhead was way too prepared for this visit.
The big coffee, the food, just to share information that could’ve been done over video conference.
I know she lives on a station, but she drove all the way into town just to talk to Finn because you called her. ’
Porter didn’t flinch. ‘Yeah, I did. Craig was with me. We both talked to her.’
Her glare deepened. ‘Why? She’s the ex-wife, not his mother.’
‘Because you need Finn to be on the ball. You’re not his babysitter, Montrose. He’s your boss, and he’s a bloody good cop who might not realise how bad he’s getting.’ He then added a little quieter, ‘and yeah… we need him for this.’
She should’ve been furious with Porter for going behind her back, and for meddling. But instead… something loosened in her chest.
Because for the first time in too long, she wasn’t the one left holding the weight on her own. Porter had seen it too—the way Finn was slipping—and had stepped in when she’d been at a loss to even know where to begin.
She glanced towards the closed office door.
Maybe, just maybe, Finn was coming back to them.
And for the first time in weeks, she let herself believe it.
Either way, she was relieved that Finn was finding his footing again. And she needed that more than she’d ever admit to Finn—or to Porter.
But she’d made a lot of mistakes over Lot 728, that she had to make up for. She needed to find that horse. ‘Let’s go.’