Page 110 of Stockman's Stormcloud

‘It’s the perfect cover. I work for a Federal Police Department that is funded by other organisations. This is a trial based on my extensive stockman’s experience and my rank as a cop. If we make this arrest, I can then ask for a permanent team to help other station owners, especially in the Northern Territory.’

‘And Bree?’

Finn crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Why do you want to know, Ryder?’

‘Bree lives with us,’ Dex replied, before Ryder had a chance to respond. ‘We see her as family.’

‘And when the caretaker’s caveat is over, what are you going to tell Bree? I’m sure you’ve noticed the best house on Elsie Creek Station is the caretaker’s cottage, with Drover’s Rest as the best paddock on the property right behind it.’

That’s true, the caretakers were sitting pretty in their position. But Dex liked his house, now it had been renovated to suit his tastes. And the caretaker’s cottage felt like Charlie and Bree’s home, even if it was like a separate farm within the station.

‘What have you told Bree she can do when the caretaker’s caveat is over?’ Ryder asked Finn.

‘Bree can come and live with me. I’d take her back in a heartbeat—and she knows it.’ Finn sighed heavily, the fight leaching right out of his strong stance. ‘But I know she won’t.’

‘I believe it,’ said Dex. ‘Bree always keeps moving forward and doesn’t look back.’ Because looking back at the past hurt like hell, and in Bree’s case she’d been to purgatory and back, a few times. Dex could relate, now staring at the gates of hell once again, where the lights gave an ominous glow to the sky as the roar of men carried on the breeze. But this time, would he leave that hellmouth standing?

Thirty-five

Sophie was seated on one of the old wooden crates that made up the circular part of the arena, nervously chewing on her thumbnail. Never in her life had she seen such a place as this, where men and women of all ages met under the heavy cloak of darkness to fight each other. ‘When is Dex’s fight on, Charlie?’

‘Soonish. I’d better put a bet on.’ Charlie poked up the brim of his hat to crane his neck to peer at the crowd. ‘Are you going to make a wager?’

‘I’ve never made a bet in my life.’ She was so sheltered from this dark underworld.

‘Well, you stay right there and save our stoop. We’ll need it to see the fight.’

Sophie was afraid to be left alone. She didn’t know anyone amongst this crowd of stern faces when it parted for Dex.

‘What are you doing here?’ Dex glowered at her, so dark and dangerous.

She whimpered. ‘I… I… I had to come.’

Dex exhaled, wiping his hand over his face, instantly softening his facial features as he sat down beside her, sliding his arm over her shoulders. ‘I don’t want you here.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I need to concentrate and not worry about you with this crowd. Not with everything else that’s going on.’

‘I have to see.’

‘See what? Me get punched in the head?’

‘To see that part of you. I know you’re a fighter, and I know why you’re doing this, but I’m also here if…’ She swallowed, fiddling on her simple string bracelet. ‘Bree suggested I be here to help in case you were injured again.’

‘I’ll have some stern words with Bree later.’

‘She cares, like I do, and I’m here to support you.’ She grabbed his large hand, sandwiching it between hers, giving her last-minute plea that she’d been rehearsing all afternoon. ‘I don’t want you to fight, and I know I can’t stop you, but there is no way I’d be able to stay at the hospital, pacing the halls, waiting for news.’

His grin grew, the sexy one that made her toes curl. ‘Does that mean you like me?’

She playfully nudged him with her shoulder. ‘I might.’

‘Enough to come home?’

‘How about this…’ She sat straighter, rolling her shoulders, formulating a new plan. ‘If you skip this fight and never fight again, I’ll move in with you.’

He frowned, with his voice lethally low. ‘Tempting as that may be, you have to want to move in with me, not let me win you over a wager. You’ll only feel trapped if I won, and I’d be forever wondering if I didn’t have more than one fight left in me. How would you like it if I told you to quit your job as a nurse, and give up your cat for a dog?’

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