Page 80 of Stockman's Sandstorm

The nerves were still with her, a mix of fear and excitement, plus that rush of courage in her chest as she kept the cattle together, playing the catcher on the wing.

She didn’t have to do much, the beautiful horse did it all for her. She occasionally gave a yee haw, or a move along, and oi, just like the others did, truly tapping into her inner cowgirl. The time just flew by.

Then Charlie whistled from the far end of the herd, waving his enormous hat in the air. ‘Take cover, SANDSTORM.’ His words echoed down the cavern to ring in her ears.

Harper froze in her saddle.

Her eyes darted to the tower of red sand swirling like a fire to darken the sun. The wind’s roar was like a hundred jet engines making the world rumble around her.

It was a dusty sandstorm that stretched like an evil cloud of doom to swallow the world and it was coming straight for them.

‘What about the cattle?’ Her horse shifted nervously beneath her.

The cattle’s noses flared, their eyes widened to show the whites as their lowing became more frantic, and the pace of the herd slowed down. They couldn’t go backwards, trapped by towering walls of sandstone.

‘Careful, the herd’s gonna lock you in. Get outta there …’ Charlie disappeared with the herd that snaked around the bend. Leaving her alone with her horse and lots of cattle, as her ears ached from the sound of the roaring sandstorm.

It was like the cattle spoke in some unknown code. A few nodded their heads, with wild eyes as the herd stopped moving, the cattle lowered their heads to press against each other as if to huddle together. Leaving her with no escape.

‘Harper?’ It was Ash, pushing his horse through the cattle. His jacket covered Mason, keeping him safe from the wind, strapped to his chest. ‘This way. We’ll hide in that alley.’

He grabbed the reins of her horse, as she hid her face from the wind, holding her saddle as he led them down the stony corridor.

The wind howled as if they were struck on the runway at an airport. The sand whipped at her skin like sandpaper, her hair blowing everywhere. She struggled to even see five feet in front of her, let alone know where Ash was taking them.

They ducked under a ledge off the main thoroughfare and into a cave, the relief from the wind instant.

‘We’ll stop here.’ Ash jumped off his horse, helping her down. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness as he led them deeper into the cave, away from the wind and swirling dust outside. It was like watching the way water churned clothes during the wash cycle of a front-load washing machine, but this was sand. She’d never seen anything like it.

‘Are you okay?’

She nodded, her hair everywhere. ‘Is Mason okay?’

‘He’s fine.’ Ash kept a protective hand over the boy, leading the horses away from the wind that raged outside the cave.

‘We’ll leave the horses here.’ He secured their reins to some rope he wrapped around a rock. ‘Here, you take Mason.’

‘Arper. Arper.’ His little fingers reached out, eager to hug her.

‘I’m here, little man.’ She breathed him in, getting a big cuddle from the boy. She’d missed him.

Ash dragged out his torch and a handgun from his saddlebags.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To make sure we’re alone in this cave. I don’t want any surprises.’ He disappeared around the corner.

Filled with fright, she held Mason to her chest, ‘It’s okay, Mason.’ She huddled against the wall, watching the storm turn day into night.

‘Da-da.’ Mason pointed at the torchlight moving against the walls and the sound of Ash’s boot steps returning. ‘Daddy.’

‘He called you dad.’ She let the boy go and he ran to Ash.

‘Mason did it earlier.’ Ash scooped up the boy. ‘I’m right here, son. I’m right here.’ He set the torch on the ground to illuminate the cave, then dragged out his water bottle and passed it to the boy.

Ash was being a father.

It was everything Harper had hoped for. All the fear and strain she’d put herself through for this trip had been worth it. The tender father–son moment brought tears to her eyes.

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