Page 8 of Stockman's Stowaway

‘Eeerh—um…’ She sank back into her seat trying to make herself small while twisting her fingers. ‘I-I-I don’t like public speaking.’ She avoided all forms of public speaking. ‘And I—’

‘How about we let the girl settle in first?’

She gave Charlie a small thank-you nod.

‘No worries. When you’re ready, I’ll show you the property and I’m happy to pay for your time.’

Right now, all she wanted was to get rid of her headache, to stop her face from throbbing, and feel safe again.

The dogs started yapping as they drove through an enormous set of gates, then under a huge archway where a sturdy metal sign made of intricately woven metals like old lace proclaimed:Elsie Creek Station.

‘Dex did a good job grading the driveway, eh?’ Charlie nodded at the wide dirt track.

Cap nodded, his grip loose on the steering wheel. ‘Harper is happy she can get her car in and out for work. It won’t be long, and we’ll start shipping out our first load of fats, after we’ve done the drafting—where you’ll give us our cattle brand back.’

Cap side-eyed Charlie, who was mumbling under his breath as they travelled down the smooth track that ran alongside a dried-up dusty paddock. The track took a sweeping left bend, where rising from the dust was a weatherboard house. It stoodon the right of a large clearing with a group of sheds at the far end.

‘Is this the homestead?’

‘Yep. That’s the farmhouse.’ Cap waved to the woman holding the hand of a small boy, who was eagerly waving at Cap. Beside them stood a seriously strong-looking shepherd, with a plump cream labrador, and a tail-wagging beagle.

‘You’ll have to introduce Mia to that police dog,’ said Charlie, also waving at the boy. ‘Swear that boy grew an inch overnight.’

‘You have a police dog?’ Mia guessed it had to be the dark shepherd, who was bristling with muscles.

‘Sarge is an ex-riot dog.’

‘Aren’t they dangerous? And you have that child.’

‘He’s well-trained, and he had nowhere to go. Sadly, his owner was killed on duty. No one else trusted the dog.’

‘But you do?’

‘I trust all my dogs. Never could say no to a stray.’ His malt-whisky eyes softened, displaying a deep level of kindness she hadn’t seen from anyone in a long time.

‘And that’s my place there—the caretaker’s cottage.’ Charlie spoke with such pride in his voice as he pointed at the stone cottage, with a large assortment of flourishing flowers in the front.

She wriggled out of the seat, only to discover her body ached all over. Her thighs and calves hurt from running, and her back was a massive cluster of thumping aches and bruises. She was a mess.

‘Oi, BREE. You round?’ Charlie whistled as he followed the stone path down the side of the cottage.

Cap opened the back cage, and the dogs spilled out like water gushing from a tap. Eight dogs, and all of them stocky cattle dogs.

She gasped at the realisation of what she’d done. The sheer desperation that forced her to her climb inside a cage full of strange dogs.

As Cap filled their water bucket, the working dogs sniffed at the soil, or found the nearest fence to do their doggy business. ‘That’ll keep them happy for a bit.’ He patted a few of the dogs, all of them wagging their tails.

‘The flowers are so pretty.’ She brushed her fingertips over the soft velvety rose petals that peeked through the iron fence. They blended well with the vibrant clusters of other assorted flowers, many of them not normally found in this part of the outback.

Cap pushed open the wrought-iron gate that had to be as old as the house. ‘This is nothing, wait until you see the backyard.’

They followed the stone pathway down the right side of the house where a tall wall of corrugated iron hid them from the outside world.

‘Sweet sassy malassy.’ Mia stopped on the edge of the backyard, her fingertips hovering over her swollen lip. She’d completely forgotten about her pain. ‘What is this place?’

‘I’d say it’s one of the oldest permaculture gardens in the region.’ Cap grinned, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops of the dusty jeans that hugged the man in all the right places. She shouldn’t even be noticing him like this, tearing her eyes back to the garden.

‘Amazing.’ The garden that is.

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