Page 59 of Stockman's Sandstorm

She rolled her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘I don’t judge.’

‘Yeah, you do, Harper. You stick that little nose of yours up in the air and look down at things. It must be your background.’

She gasped at him. ‘I don’t mean it that way. I’m just picky.’

‘Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Growing up in a junkyard you get used to being judged.’

She reached out and touched his arm. ‘I don’t mean to be like that, Ash. I swear it.’

He looked at her hand, she pulled it back, curling her fingers into her palm and hid them in her lap. But the heat was felt in her ears with a twinge of shame.

‘I’m not judging you about the boxes or the house, because with my job, I got used to living out of a suitcase, or moving into empty apartments with minimal items, hotels were more homely.’

The vehicle droned on, but the silence between them grew heavier. She couldn’t stand it. Especially when she couldn’t do anything with her hands with no work to occupy her time. Her phone was useless, and there was nothing to see out the windows, just complete darkness—except for the vehicles hidden by the thick dust ahead.

The sad thing was Harper had no friends to talk to about her travel plans. She knew plenty of administrative staff, politicians, and had all sorts of connections and contact details that would fill a phone book. But none of them were friends. Not one.

It was her own fault. She’d never bothered with small talk, never bothered to stop and ask how they were, or learn about other people’s hobbies, when she did nothing except work. She’d never made the time to make friends that didn’t have some hidden political agenda behind it. She had no one.

The realisation created a blanket of loneliness to drape heavily over her. She needed to say something to stop herself from drowning under her thoughts.

‘What can I expect on this muster?’ Besides the inhalation of red dust and the ear-hammering sound of barking dogs, not to mention her spine would need an adjustment after riding this rocky road—and they hadn’t even made it to Wombat Flats.

‘Dust. A lot of dust. But stick near me, and you’ll get through this with a smile.’ He cracked a smile, a faint one, like he’d rather not use it. But it made the world feel a little smaller and a whole lot warmer and cosier. Which wasn’t hard when crammed into the front seat of his ute with a baby car seat and Mason’s bags.

‘When the muster is over, it’ll be a story to share with your friends, family, maybe future children.’ He glanced at Mason, fast asleep from the ute’s sway, his smile gone as his eyes softened. It was a look that made her stomach traitorously flip.

She no longer wanted to do the small talk, she genuinely needed to know more about Ash, especially now she had the time as the ute drove deeper into the outback. ‘So how did you go from junk to cattle?’

‘I scored a summer job while still in school, and it went from there. Cap was the same, except he fell in love with southern winters and did sheep for a bit. Dex, he just followed the fight circuit, which meant a lot of pubs where he’d pick up jobs here and there. And Ryder …’ He sighed, his shoulders sagging.

‘Ryder’s a lot older than you.’

‘He’s almost forty. I’m thirty.’

‘No way.’

‘We’ve all got Dad’s baby face, except Dex and Ryder.’

‘Why do those two argue all the time?’ The two oldest brothers snarled at each other like dogs fighting to be the alpha in the pack.

‘They’re both strong personalities. Ryder’s the natural leader, and Dex doesn’t like being told what to do. Me neither.’

‘But he doesn’t.’

‘Huh?’ His eyes cautiously flashed her way, then back to the dirt road highlighted by the glow of headlights.

‘I get no one likes being told what to do, but Ryder gives all of you plenty of scope to say your piece. He listens.’

‘Ya think?’ His voice was loaded with sarcasm, creating a rigid line between his eyebrows.

‘Ryder is actually doing a good job as a manager.’

‘What do you mean?’ The rigid line between his eyebrows deepened.

‘A good manager helps to nurture and use the skills of his team to get the job done, and Ryder does that with you guys. He’s got Cap looking after the dogs that make up the mustering teams, plus the security details. And Cap is good with all animals. Dex is your mechanic, driver, and part engineer. You—’

‘Make fake cameras and clean troughs. Aww, man …’ He winced, slapping his forehead.

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