Page 60 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘You forgot to clean those troughs, didn’t you?’

‘No, I did. They were fine … yesterday-ish. Or was that the day before?’ He fell silent, giving her a fleeting side glance. ‘You’re right.’

‘About what?’

‘I’m not proving myself, am I.’

She didn’t want to hurt his ego any more than he was doing to himself by answering him. ‘Did you bring your drone?’

‘I did. I doubt I’ll have time to use it.’

‘I think you should make the time,’ said the girl always chasing time.

His eyes flicked to hers, then back to the road.

She wriggled in her seat to face him. ‘Can I say something, just between you and me?’

‘And Mason there.’ He nodded at the sleeping baby.

‘Bree told me you aren’t using the helicopter because it’s thick country. Can’t you do the same work with your drone? You’d be able to get it high enough to spot the cows, right?’

‘Sure.’ He shrugged from behind the steering wheel as the ute trundled through the bumpy terrain.

‘Do you have a speaker on it to whistle at them, or something?’

His lips shifted as if to laugh at her.

‘I’m being serious.’ She crossed her arms over her chest.

‘Okay, okay.’

Oomph. Her shoulder thumped into the door as they hit another bump in a road that didn’t exist, making her re-grip the handle.

The twin spheres of headlights met swirls of red dust that made up the road. Occasionally, along the sides, the lights caught the tops of fluffy leafed eucalyptus trees as they drove deeper into the outback under a black night sky. ‘Are you sure this is a road?’

‘It’s a track. Dex is planning on grading the roads soon. I’ve asked Dex to do the driveway first, to make it easier for your car.’ His eyes landed on hers. It only made the space, which smelled intoxicatingly of Ash, seem smaller.

The realisation that Ash had done that for her made her stomach swirl like a ribbon that curled in various directions after being sliced by a pair of sharp scissors. He did all these little things that meant a lot to her, like keeping the pantry’s light on in the farmhouse at night, or putting water bottles in the fridge for her. Leaving the shortbread on the table with her coffee cup cleaned and waiting for her.

Beneath that boyish bravado was someone who cared about keeping those who surrounded him happy. She knew that once he bonded with his son, Mason was going to be one lucky boy. If only Ash would try.

‘You know …’ Ash swiped back his dark hair, as was his habit. ‘I could rig up something with the walkie-talkies. But what’s stopping them from just standing there and staring at it? Some bulls will attack the muster choppers.’

‘Can’t you train them for the future? You use the drone now to check troughs, but you could also use it to move them, or do what you do with cows. Isn’t that your plan? To gamify the station to save on fuel costs etc? Why not try out your drone on this muster to show your brothers what you can do—not that I have a clue what it is that you do, or what I’m to expect on this road trip.’ The start wasn’t very promising.

‘Did Bree explain anything about what happens on a muster?’

‘Only that I’d be swallowing a lot of dust. But I’ve been told to stick close to you, and to never wander far from the campsite. Bree also said it’s better to learn on the job.’ Like she’d done the moment she’d arrived at Elsie Creek Station, as a completely inexperienced nanny.

‘It’s how I was taught—thrown into the deep end.’

‘That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m not a good swimmer. I believe Bree has kept a lot from me, too. But I do know why you’ve asked me to come.’

‘Yeah, why?’ He gave her a fleeting side glance filled with guilt.

‘You’re trying to save the station and you need Bree and Charlie’s help to do it, by getting those cattle out of this place called Wombat Flats. Am I right?’

‘We wouldn’t have Charlie’s help without Bree—’

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