Page 10 of Stockman's Stowaway

Mia wept, while being held by a woman she’d just met, still spinning over the reason that brought her here. She’d never felt so lost.

‘Um, sorry to impose like this.’ Mia wiped at her tears, but the dirt scratched like sandpaper against her swollen cheek.

‘Come on, let’s get you cleaned up in the best shower made for women.’

‘Huh?’

‘I made it myself.’ Bree giggled. ‘I’ll dig up some clothes for you. Do you prefer dresses or pants?’

‘I’m not a dress kind of girl.’ She was always the tomboy.

‘I’ve got plenty of welding pants. They might be long in the leg for you.’

‘I’m used to that. Working on a male-dominated mining site, my clothes were always too baggy for me.’

From the nod, it was obvious Bree understood, aS she was wearing heavy boots and welder’s trousers, so presumably she worked in some metal trade.

‘I could run you a bubble bath, put in some soothing herbs that’ll do wonders for the skin.’ With her arm gently around Mia’s shoulders, Bree guided her towards the cottage.

‘I’d hate to put you out.’

‘You’re not a bother at all.’

Inside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the large room. The temperature dropped at least ten degrees, but there was no air conditioner running, nor any fans in the low ceiling. Vintage pictures hung on the walls, and a large couch stood under a stained-glass window, near what was obviously the front door. A solid wooden table sat near the kitchen that took up the entire back wall, with a large island bench made from one solid piece of timber. It was gorgeous.

‘What is all this?’ She pointed at the large jars resting on the kitchen bench, they smelled of vinegar.

‘I pickled some cucumbers and eggs for Pop, earlier. He likes them with his beer.’

‘And the chillies?’ She pointed to the assorted green and red chilli varieties spread out on trays, along with crates of plump red tomatoes sitting in the corner.

‘I’ll be making a batch of chilli sauces and some chilli cooking oils.’ She grabbed some glasses and a jug from the fridge. The scent of fresh mint soon filled the air. ‘Make yourself at home.’

Mia caught her reflection in the mirror that hung above the vintage hat rack loaded with assorted coats, cowboy hats and stockwhips. It was the first time she’d seen her face. ‘I shouldn’t be here.’

Bree gently touched her shoulder, as she held a glass of water complete with sliced cucumber and mint. ‘It’s okay. Pop did the right thing bringing you here. Drink this, it’s filtered rainwater. Do you need anything for the pain?’

‘Cap gave me something earlier.’ She gulped the invigoratingly fresh water down in a matter of moments.

‘Top up that glass anytime.’ Bree nodded at the large office-style water cooler that stood by the hats.

‘Thank you.’ Mia refilled her glass.

‘Want a cup of tea? Sorry, there’s no coffee in the house.’

Mia shook her head.

‘Do you want to call someone?’ Between grinding with the mortar and pestle, Bree nodded at the desk crammed into the corner with its silent PC and phone.

Mia shook her head again, drinking more water, as an unexpected wave of shame smothered her. Putting the glass down on the kitchen bench, she tucked her dirty hands under her armpits, her head bent, desperate to hide her face.

‘Will anyone be worried about you?’

‘I-I…’ Her body gave her away, shivering with fear.

‘Are you hiding from someone?’

‘He used to be so…’ Tears blinded her, and her lip hurt as the bruises on her face pounded. ‘I-I should go.’

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