Page 33 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘That’s a nice way of calling Princess Harper a toffee-nosed—’

‘Stop. Right now.’ He scowled at his older brother, the professional bare-knuckle fighting champion. But the protectiveness he had over Harper was strong. ‘I mean it.’

‘Why?’

‘For Mason’s sake. The kid adores her, more than me.’ He sighed, hating to admit that Mason preferred Harper, even Cap, over him.

‘Maybe if you’d bothered to spend time with the kid, he’d like you too.’

‘I don’t know how. He’s a kid.’ He still got that squeezing sensation around his rib cage, whenever he looked at the boy. It put him off.

‘You’re the biggest kid I know, I don’t see any problem.’

‘I do.’ Eighteen days and counting.

‘Listen, brother, at his age, Mason will look up to you no matter who you are. And if you don’t stuff it up, he’ll look up to you for the rest of your life.’

‘Do you look up to Dad?’

‘Dad’s Dad.’ Dex shrugged as he flicked through a toolbox searching for the drill bits. ‘Dad treated us well. He took the time to hang out with us and teach us things. Now it’s your turn. You’ve got that drone, put the goggles on the kid and let him see. Or do what Cap’s doing, just taking the kid for a walk, or let him help by picking up cans. Kids don’t see our faults. Not at that age.’

‘How come you know all about this? Have you got some child hidden in the closet we don’t know about?’

Dex’s face was sullen. The cocky shine of mischief in his eyes was replaced by a deep, deep sadness. ‘I know, okay. I just do. That kid is your son, and it’s about time you stepped up and started being his father.’

‘VISITORS!’

‘Was that Harper?’ Ash spun around to face the farmhouse. His heart skipped a beat, worried for her. But she was okay, pointing down the driveway.

‘What is this place, flipping Grand Central Station?’ Dex mumbled, carrying an assortment of tools.

Ash jiggled the tools and the sheet of plywood under his arm. ‘Hey, Dex?’

‘What?’

‘Leave Harper alone.’

‘I moved out, didn’t I.’

‘You know what I mean. Harper knows about the bet.’ Ash grabbed his older brother by the upper arm that was nothing but solid muscle. ‘I mean that. Leave. Harper. Alone.’ The depth of his warning echoed around them.

‘I’ll steer clear of the nanny. But I’m not cancelling that bet, it’s up to two hundred now.’

‘Who with?’

‘Obviously not with you.’ Dex grinned over his shoulder as they approached the house, just as a stocky work ute parked in the yard.

Cap carted Mason on his shoulders back to the farmhouse, where the boy was greeted by the nanny. Harper gave the small boy his own special smile, before she carried him into the house for dinner.

For the first time Ash felt a different twinge in his ribs, as if something was fighting against the pressure. It had him wanting to walk across that dead grass to go hang out with Harper and Mason in the kitchen. But that was impossible.

Especially since Harper was doing her best to avoid him ever since he’d stupidly hit on her that night. She was here for Mason. Anyone could see that. And Ash also noticed how attached Mason was to Harper.

Did he want that same kind of attention? But from who, Harper or Mason? Or both?

‘What’s got you shoutin’ at me for, old fella?’ The middle-aged man climbed out of the cab of his work ute. Sliding on a well-worn stockman’s hat, he casually patted Sarge like he was a puppy.

‘Some killer guard dog, that is,’ mumbled Dex.

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