Page 81 of Stockman's Stormcloud

Charlie nodded. ‘That’s what stock school does. It teaches the cattle to always be calm, because a calm cow is a fat cow. And we had the best reputation for our stock doing just that.’

‘Have you ever dealt with rustlers before?’

‘Yea, mongrels. Back in the day, neighbours had issues with cattle thieves earmarking and branding cattle as their own. But not with the Elsie Creek Station brand. Not the way my family designed the patterning of the letters. We made sure no one could tamper with that legacy brand.’ Charlie exhaled heavily, as he spoke to Ryder, ‘All our neighbours know the brand, they recognise the brand. Heck, Bree shows it off at all the local campdrafts to drum up customers. Most of all, the cattle remember that redhead. When we went out there yesterday to Drinkastubbie Downs, to protectyour stock, they followed us back to the inner fence line easy as you please.’ He pointed at the four brothers. ‘And that wasafteryou’d gone and accused a third-generation stockwoman of cattle rustling.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Ryder removed his hat, raking his fingers through his thick hair. ‘I truly am sorry for what I said to Bree. It was uncalled for.’

It was a flipping guilt trip, loaded not only on Ryder but also on Cap and Ash. Dex had to do something to repair the damage. ‘Is there any way we can fix this? How can we get Bree to listen to Ryder’s apology without her feeding him to the crocodiles?’ Which was unusual for him to ask, when normally it was Cap who played the peacemaker, not Dex. ‘Hey, did Carked-it take the bait?’

‘Not yet. Won’t be long, I reckon.’ Charlie even nodded with enthusiasm.

Then there was a loud rumble of an engine that grew closer.

‘Aw, come on. Why not just load a barrel of gunpowder and pull the trigger on this friggin’ day already?’ Charlie scowled, pushing open the gate, and walked along the outer fence line.

‘Are you expecting someone?’

‘That flamin’ devil’s coming.’ Charlie even spat, as if to curse the ground.

‘Is that a Harley?’ Ash asked.

The beefy motorbike rumble was easily recognisable.

‘Who is Charlie talking about?’ Cap asked Dex.

‘I don’t know.’ Dex shrugged. ‘I bet it’s the person Bree called. I know Charlie didn’t want her to ring this person, who he called the devil.’

‘The what?’ Ash screwed his nose up.

‘He’s got something to do with the stolen cattle.’

Ryder turned to Dex. ‘Our cattle?’

‘Yeah.’ Again, Dex shrugged. He didn’t know more than that, because asking Bree about her secrets was pointless, she’d rather walk away than answer questions, just like he did. Just like Charlie walking along the corrugated fence line.

‘What the hell is that woman up to now?’ Ryder’s scowl was dark. ‘And she wonders why I get so angry with her. Wait up, Charlie.’

Charliedisappeared around the corner to the front of the cottage.

The dog barked as a deep-throated, rumbling motorbike shattered the peace of their Sunday morning.

Dex couldn’t run, and he couldn’t walk as fast as his brothers, but with his hand cupping his ribs, he tried. To think he used to outrun them all, jogging every morning like Bree rode her horses. But he was finally free from those oxygen tanks—reminding him of yesterday and that heated kiss with Sophie. And with her leaving him the way she did, might be for the best.

The Harley came round the corner, its chrome work catching the early morning sunlight, its echo so loud that at the farmhouse his little nephew, Mason, stood at the front doors holding his ears. They couldn’t even hear the dog barking as it strained against the chain at the corner of the farmhouse.

The bike rumbled to a stop out front of the cottage. The engine switched off, leaving a silence so heavy it felt as though it had sucked all sound into a void.

‘Charlie.’ The man’s neck gaiter, featuring a skull, hid his face. In a black jacket, jeans, and boots, he removed his black helmet and wraparound glasses showing clipped hair and a few scars. He had some serious inked sleeves, and with the neck gaiter removed, it exposed tattoos on his neck, and a heavy set of knuckles. Dex quickly sized him up as a bloke who could scrap—old-school style.

‘Did you escape?’ Charlie grumbled as he approached the biker. ‘Coz there’s no way they’d let the likes of you out on good behaviour.’

The guy gave a brief smirk, hooking his helmet onto his handlebars. ‘Bree around?’

‘Here.’ Bree pushed open the front gate, her face expressionless and completely unreadable.

The new guy climbed off the bike. He had some height to him, and a stack of solid muscle, too. ‘Hello, baby.’

Bree rushed into the guy’s arms and kissed him. But itwas no simple peck on a cheek Dex has seen her give friends or other men in town.

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