Page 36 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘Bree’s been holding out on us.’ Ash looked back at the distant caretaker’s cottage.

‘That’s a lot of grog. Is that legal?’ Dex asked.

‘Since when do you care if it’s legal?’ Jonathan playfully punched Dex’s shoulder.

‘If we’re looking at legal action, I want nothing that could affect us.’ Ryder stabbed at the map spread across the table. ‘The caretakers don’t own this place, we do.’

‘Well, if there’s an issue with the dam and the water rights, you’ll wanna get that herd of cattle out of Wombat Flats, pronto.’ Ron peered over the map. ‘Because if that dam is now refilling, and if those mongrels decide to tear it down again, it’s going to cause a flash flood through the Stoneys and out to—’

‘Wombat Flats.’

‘It looks like you mob are about to do a muster. But be warned fellas, that’s stockhorse-only country. I hope you’ve all got decent saddles and know how to whirl a stockwhip.’

Sixteen

It was two in the morning when Harper woke to a faint cry. She bounded out of bed and rushed into the next room. Inside, under the faint glow of a night-light, lay Mason in his cot, thrashing around, having a nightmare.

‘Shh, little one, it’s okay. I’m right here.’ She rubbed the boy’s back, as Ruby pressed her nose against Harper’s leg. Concern filled the sensitive dog’s eyes.

‘You too, Ruby. Everything will be okay.’ She patted the dog’s head.

‘Is he okay?’ It was Ash at the door. Thankfully in jeans and a T-shirt and not a towel.

She nodded, turning back to focus on the boy.

‘What’s wrong with him?’

‘Nightmare.’

‘How can someone that young get nightmares?’

‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘Nightmares can come for no reason.’

Ash stared at her for a long second as if trying to read her. ‘You have nightmares.’

She did, ever since the bomb blast. ‘Don’t you?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Maybe stress attacks.’ Shoving his hands in his pockets, he lifted his shoulders high in an awkward shrug. ‘Forget I said that.’ He went to leave.

She grabbed his arm. ‘What are you stressed about?’

He shook his head, looking at her hand on his arm.

She let go, but she wasn’t letting go of this conversation, especially when conversations were so rare these days. ‘Is it about the station?’

‘No. Normally, I’m never stressed over anything.’

‘So, what is it then?’

His dark eyes left hers to focus on the cot, he stepped back as if to keep his distance.

‘Your son?’ She’d never heard Ash call the boy that.

Ash gave a curt nod as the apple in his throat worked as if trying to fight the words that gushed out, ‘It squeezes my rib cage so bad it hurts to breathe. But it’s getting better.’ He rubbed his lower chest as if suffering with a bad case of heartburn.

‘Is that why you’re avoiding your son?’ She’d thought Ash was avoiding her, but apparently it was Mason.

He rubbed a rough hand over his face as if to rewind this conversation. ‘It’s stupid. Forget it, okay?’ Again, he went to turn away.

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