Page 35 of Stockman's Stormcloud

‘That’s Bree’s. She’s got this cattle trough she’ll drag out front of the telly to watch the ice hockey while drinking her jug of gin.’

‘Are you saying Bree takes daily ice baths?’

‘Mate, when you’re workin’ in front of a blazing furnace in the outback, how else do you cool down? So the kid makes her own ice in bulk.’

Oh, Dex was going to talk to his brothers about investing in an ice machine for his own shed, as soon as he went back to work.

‘What are you using for bait to catch a crocodile?’ That wasn’t the typical question you’d expect from a guy who’d just got out of hospital. It was so good to be home.

‘Wild pig. Don’t worry, we have none now. We used to own a coupla good pig dogs before that mongrel neighbour poisoned them…’ Charlie sniffed, clearing his throat and looking away.

After dumping the bait into the trailer, Bree tucked an extra thick cushion behind Dex’s back. ‘I have more if you need them.’

Even though his lungs were cactus, and his ribs ached, Dex wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. But he was glad the old man had made him take those painkillers earlier.

‘I’m off the couch, Bree. And you haven’t said anything.’ She’d been a hard taskmaster, always on his case, ensuring he was following doctor’s orders for pills and breathing exercises.

Even if he hated her at times, he didn’t want to be back in hospital. He was done being ill. And he knew, deep down, Bree cared for him as a friend, one of the few he had.

‘Stormcloud, we’ve just shifted you from one couch to a mobile couch that has a much better view with lots of wholesome air conditioning. Just keep your mask on for thedrive. I don’t want you swallowing any dust or bugs along the way.’ She gave him a slight wink, then jumped into the driver’s seat of the old bull catcher. ‘No complaints, I’m driving, so it’s my music.’

Dex didn’t care if she played flipping nursery rhymes, he was outside again, and he gripped the rails, ready to rumble.

Twelve

Hat on his head, wind in his face, even with the mask on, Dex was back in the saddle, living the dream once again. In the back seat of the Razorback, towing a whopping big trailer that held a crocodile cage, they followed a dirt track that travelled from the sheds, tucked behind the caretaker’s cottage, and into an open field full of lush Mitchell grass, with assorted tufts of wild oats, sorghum, couch grasses, even wild rice. Not only was it the perfect grazing feed for producing healthy stock, but it was also fully fenced into sections, with plenty of water points in a network of troughs, and none of his brothers, including Dex, knew about it. This was all covered by the caretaker’s caveat.

He’d been so busy with their never-ending list of projects to get this property back on its feet, he hadn’t had a chance to explore this side of the station. None of his brothers had. ‘What is this paddock called?’

‘Drover’s Rest. Or as I like to call it:stock school.’ Charlie nodded at the land with pride.

The map they had up at the farmhouse had no names, just numbers for paddocks, unlike Charlie’s older maps. ‘Can I get a copy of your map, the one with the names to paddocks?’

‘Sure.’ Charlie nodded with his stockman’s hat. ‘Bree’s got a copier up at the house.’

‘So, what’s my paddock called?’ They passed a barbed-wire fence, through the cattle grid and open gate, where assorted blue and pink wildflowers grew along the edgescatching the morning dew.

‘Dead Dog’s Swamp.’ Charlie grinned at him. ‘Got any idea what you’re gonna do with it?’

‘Nope.’ Dex hadn’t even thought about it, even though each brother had agreed to pick a paddock to run their own experiments to see if their ideas would work on the rest of the station. Ash was busy trialling water trough gauges, drones and automatic gates for his paddock, while also testing his new hi-tech cattle tags. Cap was turning his paddock into a native oasis that had the neighbouring cattle already pushing against Ash’s fences. Ryder had yet to choose a paddock to run his trials.

Dex had only picked his paddock while loaded with bourbon, playing pin the tail on the station’s map—and he hadn’t even looked at it. ‘I’ve been busy fixing the drafting yards and grading the roads.’Oomph.The bump in the dirt track sent red-hot pain to radiate through his ribs, and he keeled over, wincing as stars pushed on the periphery of his eyes.Breathe, brother.

‘Sorry. I felt that.’ Bree slowed right down as she steered the Razorback across the open field. ‘I should take you back.’

‘No. Keep going.’ Dex pulled down the mask to meet the invigorating smell of dawn that blended with crisp sweet hay. He loved that smell.

From the driver’s seat Bree glanced over her shoulder. ‘Oi! Mask, Stormcloud.’

‘I’m good.’ Hell yeah, with the pain passing, and the wind in his face, he slipped the mask back on and braced his ribs as they tore through some incredible cattle country. An occasional flurry of small grey pigeons fled skyward from their nesting places among the grassy stems, as Bree steered them deeper into this wide field.

‘Have you, I mean, havewegot any cattle in this paddock?’ He was part owner of this land that stretched further than the eye could see.

‘Nah,’ replied Charlie. ‘Darcie’s son cleaned this paddock out first, the mongrel.’

‘It’s agood paddock.’

‘It’s a pearler, for sure.’ From the front passenger seat, Charlie nodded under his well-worn stockman’s hat, his grey eyes scanning the vast horizon of open cattle country with not one beast spotted anywhere. ‘You can thank Darcie’s mother, the matron of the family. Tough as nails she was, even in her final years, she’d walk this paddock every morning, throwing assorted grass seeds like she was feeding chickens. She lived in the cottage until she moved on. Ol’ Granny Darcie never liked the farmhouse they built for Darcie’s dad when he got married.’

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