Page 87 of Stockman's Sandstorm

Instead, she checked on Mason again. He was fast asleep, holding on to a toy dog. Normally she’d find Ruby sleeping beside Mason’s bed, giving her a light wag of her tail.

She really missed that dog.

In the kitchen, she stared at the fridge. She had food, and she had wine.

Pouring a glass, she sat at the table, racked with worry for the dog, and guilt for what she was going to say to Ash and Cap.

Was her time with Ash, trapped inside the cave waiting out a sandstorm, a dream? Or was he doing that to keep his son happy, feeding her hopes of that fairytale where families were perfect?

Did she want to be in an instant family? When she was still feeling the sting from her own.

There was no way her father would have allowed her to shack up with some cowboy in the scrub! And she hadn’t factored children into her life this soon. First she actually wanted to date the guy.

What was wrong with enjoying the romance that had always eluded her? To squeal with delight as the guy dropped to his knee and proposed, where she then got to show off her engagement ring to everyone. What about showing off her Valentine’s Day card, or any gift her man gave her? Where was her chance to brag about dinner dates and weekends away—just like the other women at work.

She’d always thought she’d have a wedding one day, where her father could proudly walk her down the aisle, while her mother got all teary-eyed in the front row. Now none of that was ever going to happen.

She needed to focus on something else.

Scooping up the wineglass, she leaned against the front door letting the dogs to go out and do their business. She stared at the outdoor table where the Riggs brothers gathered morning and night. It was covered with dirty coffee cups, a few maps, and that large manila envelope.

She sipped on her wine, not even tasting it, and stared at the envelope.

She’d asked Ash to give her a copy of the letter from the government. She wasn’t sure if she could help, but she desperately needed a distraction.

She peered around at the thick blackness that surrounded her. There were no city lights, or traffic noises, just the two dogs sniffing around the grass, again making that foul taste of fear rise in her throat. Was there another snake in the grass?

Needing something to take her mind off her fear, she pushed the paperwork off the table where it scattered to the floorboards.

‘Whoops.’

She scooped up the assorted maps and papers, until she found what she was looking for—the letter from the government. And what she read only made her frown.

Thirty-seven

Ash rode out for the Stoneys before sunrise, preferring the cold deep caverns than face his brothers. The wind carved sandstone columns, while some overhanging rock ledges were like frozen ocean waves forever rolling high on a sea of stone. No two stone corridors were the same.

‘Oh Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou, Romeo?’ It was Bree, over the radio. ‘You should hear the acoustics, I’m about to start a rock concert back here.’

‘What do you want, Bree?’ Ash was not in the mood.

‘Well, good morning, snowflake. Are you ready to tackle the day, where the aim of the game is to not choke on too much cattle dust? With any luck, I’ll be ending this day soaking in an ice bath, watching some hot hockey players, and knocking back some gin. But in the meantime, I’ll be playing your wingman. So, where are you, my little snowflake?’

‘Halfway to Grass Tree Creek.’

‘Seen any cattle on the way through?’

‘No, but I can hear them.’ Their indistinct murmurs, and hooves clashing on rock, were echoing off the canyon walls that were a winding, twisty maze.

‘There you are.’ Bree rode towards him on her handsome black horse. ‘Here, you left this behind.’ She held out a small paper bag.

‘What’s that?’

‘Your breakfast.’

‘You legend, you.’ He was practically salivating as he tore back the wrapping. ‘Where’s Charlie?’

‘Pop’s setting up some hessian wings to steer those we flush out towards that paddock. So today, you get the rare once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to tell me where to go.’ She peered up at the wall of towering stone. ‘Is this what they call the nosebleed section.’

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