Page 15 of Stockman's Sandstorm

She’d always had a dislike for space, planets, and stardust. Sure, she was nerdy—but she was the type of nerd who didn’t like space or the outdoors.

And this place looked like she’d landed in a deserted galaxy in a land where horrendous heat waves shimmered across the dirt road, distorting the landscape ahead of her. Behind her it was the same picture, only marred by the plume of dust caused by her own car, turning the sky red.

How did she get talked into this?

She kept her eye on the GPS that recorded her path, as they passed the place she had a flat tyre, only yesterday, then up the small hill that opened to a vista of nothing but land. Her eyes widened as her heart squeezed, because there was so much open country she could get easily lost, with no hope of anyone finding her.

She wasn’t an explorer or an adventurer. Harper was a girl who managed time behind a desk in air-conditioned comfort, with the occasional field trip to meetings held in places of sand dunes and workman’s rubble, to marble-floored buildings, and boardroom tables full of top brass and stuffed shirts.

But this …

Harper tried to force down the lump in her throat, gripping the steering wheel tighter. She glanced at her silent phone, well out of range now.

At least she’d had the common sense to email her assistant to tell her where she was going. But was she doing the right thing?

Following the trail of red dust from Ash’s ute, she passed through a broken gate, with a towering archway where the intricate metal sign above said Elsie Creek Station. It led to a long and straight track full of potholes and thick pockets of red sand. Her car struggled to get through.

When she finally drove into the clearing, a simple weatherboard house stood on the right. On its deep front porch, a large wooden table occupied the far-left corner where five people sat, watching her.

Before she could put the car into reverse and stop playing Bambi who should have never left her mother, her job, or her world—Ash opened her door.

‘Looks like we’ll have to grade the track so you can get in and out of the place easier.’ Ash gave such a boyish grin with that hinted dimple, stopping all her panic. Ugh, it was that grin of his that had her going through with this idiotic plan.

The hostile heat hit her in waves as she got out of the cool, air-conditioned car. Who knew that the extreme change in temperature would cause her sunglasses to fog up.

‘Here … you’re on the clock,’ Ash said, pushing Mason into her arms. ‘Come on, meet my brothers. I’ll take your suitcase.’

Mason drooled with his fist in his mouth, rubbing sleepy eyes, wincing in the bright outback sunshine that was harsh, even for her. At least she had sunglasses. ‘Mason needs a hat.’ Or should she drag out her umbrella?

‘It’s on the list.’ Ash loaded himself up with shopping bags from the back of his ute while dragging her suitcase to the house, where bickering voices greeted them.

‘Everyone …’ Ash dumped the shopping bags at his feet.

Harper’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the cool verandah’s shade. No wonder they were all out here. Nearby, boxes of empty beer cans and bourbon bottles rested against the wall, while dirty coffee cups and glasses covered the table.

The other side of the spacious verandah was full of baby gear. Her suitcase sat next to a portable cot filled with toys that Mason was reaching for. Harper put Mason inside the portable playpen and gave him his water bottle.

‘This is Harper Jamison, the nanny.’

Harper cleared her throat at Ash, straightening her skirt, fronting for an inspection of the troops of a different kind.

‘Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m tired. And this is all new to me, too.’ Ash gave her a shy grin. ‘Harper has agreed to help until we can hire a proper nanny.’ Ash then pointed at the seated men. ‘That’s my brother Cap in the baseball cap. The one scowling is Dex, and the guy in the black hat is Ryder.’

‘And we’re chopped liver, apparently.’ The woman, with a massive mop of red hair, tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at Harper as if to see right through her. It was unnerving.

‘That’s Bree and her grandfather, Charlie,’ said Ash. ‘They live over there in the caretaker’s cottage. Everyone, this is Harper. Do I call you the nanny?’

‘No, thank you.’ Harper raised her chin to face the outback committee at the bush basher’s boardroom table. ‘Where will I be staying?’ Please don’t say the stables?

‘You’ll have my room.’ Dex crossed his inked arms over his chest. He had muscles on muscles, along with a mean dark look.

She nearly choked on air, looking to Ash. ‘Remember those boundaries we talked about.’ Keeping open the lines of professionalism.

‘I moved out.’

‘To where?’ Ash asked Dex.

‘I’m bunking in the old stockman’s shack.’

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