Page 70 of Stockman's Stowaway

‘I agree. Bree’s idea of the extended deck will give us the same effect. But I’ll invest in a decent set of outdoor chairs.’ He lay back against his swag, his silhouette perfect against the skyline of stars that draped around him as if he were a gift from heaven itself.

‘How long are you planning on doing these nightly visits?’ Mia asked Cap, who was playing guardian angel to the new maremma sheepdogs, Lurch and Momma Bear, who were playing guardians over the small herd of calves, and this was night three.

‘I think by the end of the week they’ll have settled in nicely.’

‘The same time my new room will be ready. If not sooner. And your deck, too.’

‘It’s all happening, isn’t it?’ His smile was delicious, with a rare dimple making an appearance.

She was excited for him. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’ Leaning on his elbow, he stretched out his body, so lean and muscular it made her mind go blank that she could only focus on the sight of Cap. He was so beautiful that it hurt to look at him, like she was staring at a masculine angel with his hair tousled and messy from running his hands through it too many times.

Before she could turn away, he looked up. Their gazes fused, creating a thrill that rushed down her body to suddenly become a taut bundle of fire and electricity.

She forced herself to look away, her eyes landing on the ute, now remembering her question. ‘I get the collection of trucker caps you keep across the dashboard of your Tojo. They’re like the way you’d collect stickers of places.’

‘Most were given to me.’

‘So the nickname Cap is for caps?’

‘It’s not from hats.’

‘What then?’

His grin was wide, as if reliving some fond memory, and he sat up, crossing his legs. ‘When I was a young kid, I saw this visiting farmer use the side of Dad’s workbench to pop the cap off his longneck bottle of home-brewed beer. To me, it was like magic.’ His grin was boyish and surprisingly contagious; she grinned back. ‘From there, it was an obsession to use everything but a bottle opener to pop the caps off my brothers’ sodas, Dad’s beers, to opening jars for Mum in the kitchen. I’d use the bottom of cigarette lighters, metal rulers, metal spoons, even the latches in car doors.’

‘I’ve seen your brothers pass you their beers to pop their caps.’

‘It’s a habit for all of us in the Riggs family. One of my sisters posts me a bottle cap opener every year for my birthday. And the other one would send me a collection of bottle caps she’d find in her travels.’

‘Where are those bottle caps now?’ She liked making art out of bottle caps. What was the coincidence of that!

‘They’re in a box somewhere. Dex said we could use them for a home bar, or a special bourbon room for Ryder. Maybe I’ll get you to build a display. Some are pretty special.’

She shrugged meekly, unsure about doing another project like that. Was it too soon, after the debacle with Gavin to settle down with someone else. Even though planting the wildlife corridors was a job, committing to a craft display might be getting too comfortable. Yet, when it came to Cap, he made her feel at ease within herself.

‘So, what is your name?’

‘It’s Caleb.’

‘Oh…’ She sat taller, not expecting that at all. ‘Do you like being called Caleb?’

‘I’m so used to Cap that when I’m called Caleb, it’s for something serious, like bills.’

‘I get it.’

‘Any more questions?’

She shifted her legs into a cross-legged position to mirror him. ‘Why do you have that red dog collar hanging from the Tojo’s rear-view mirror? The old leather one that rattles and has that faded tag.’

‘Hmmm…’ He sighed heavily, peering out to the field.

‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘It’s okay. No one has asked me that one before.’ He sniffed heavily as if to draw strength from the crisp night air. ‘The collar belonged to my first muster dog, Dodge. A blue heeler cross. We went through a lot together until old age caught up with him. But I kept the dog collar.’

‘Why?’

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