Page 122 of Stockman's Stormcloud

‘Face me, you coward. This could be your last shot at the title.’

Hank stepped out, tossing his hat aside, and pushed up the sleeves of his shirt. ‘I’ll take that bet.’ And swung a roundhouse.

Dex ducked, not expecting the knee to his shoulder. ‘Oomph.’

‘See, I can beat you.’ Hank taunted Dex like a bully in the schoolyard. ‘You’re not so big now, without a crowd.’

Dex pushed back and got into position, rolling his shoulders, shaking off the pain, just like he’d trained all these years. It helped him focus quickly, to come back swinging. It took a right, a left, another two quick jabs to the chest, an uppercut and then two jabs with the right, to finish it off with a wild left.

If he did this in the main arena his bookies would be scowling at him, with the organisers lecturing him, because he got paid better odds the longer he stretched out a fight. It’s the way they played their dangerous game, that only seemed deadlier now Leo was involved.

But this fight wasn’t in the arena. This fight in the dust was for his cattle and for his family. Dex slammed his knuckles into Hank’s chin so hard it snapped his neck back. Hank wobbled on his legs as if walking on stilts, until his eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the dirt like a house of cards.

Dex dragged him up by the scruff of his neck. ‘You stole our cattle.’

‘That he did.’ It was Bree, aiming her shotgun at Hank. ‘You can go now, Dex.’

‘And what are you going to do? Find a waterhole to feed your pet crocodiles.’

‘Oh, we’ve got special plans for this one.’ Bree cocked back the hammer of her shotgun with a stern glint in her eyes.

‘You’re scaring me, Bree. What are you going to do?’ Because the woman wasn’t afraid to use her firearms. She’d already shot one bloke.

‘My grandfather and some of the other staunch stockmen have a plan for these cattle rustlers. It’s a tradition the local stockmen keep from way back.’ She gave a sickly sweet smile at her captive over the barrel of her loaded shotgun. ‘Do you want to meet my friends?’

Thelook was enough for even Dex to put his hands up, as he stepped back from the redhead. ‘You’re in trouble now, Hank.’

‘I’ll cooperate, I swear.’ Hank was on his knees, hands behind his head, pleading with the redhead holding a shotgun.

‘Babe, you can drop the shottie,’ said Finn, approaching them. ‘And it had better be registered. I can’t cover your arse with the local cops around.’

‘Marcus knows I’ve got it.’ She lowered the hammer and rested the shotgun on her shoulder. ‘Marcus sent me out here to help Dex while you were backing up Ryder with the other bad guy.’ She then leaned in and said to Hank, ‘You have no idea how lucky you are that the cops are here to protect you.’

Dex didn’t realise he’d been holding his breath, until Bree gave a sly wink. Was that story true about Bree and the other stockmen?

‘You’re under arrest.’ Finn slapped a pair of handcuffs on Hank, dragging him away.

‘Hey, I just heard Sophie got into a fight. Is that true?’ Bree asked Dex as they followed Finn dragging Hank through the dry grasses that brushed at their denim knees.

Dex grinned. ‘Yeah, Sophie did that to give us time.’

‘Thank goodness she did,’ said Finn. ‘Because we’d been waiting on that truck to block the road.’

‘It won’t stop the punters.’ Bree pointed to the field. The arena’s spotlights had been doused, and a stream of cars rushed off in various directions, with the red-and-blue flashing lights creating an ethereal spookiness to the churning dust. ‘Where is Sophie?’

‘I told her to stay with Charlie.’

‘They’ll be by the Kombi, then. Pop has got the spare keys.’

‘Did you get Hank?’ asked Ryder, approaching from the other side of the rustler’s truck.

‘I did.’ Dex nodded. ‘Hank even got his last fight in.’

‘Where you kicked his arse, obviously. Knew you could do it.’Ryder patted his brother on the shoulder. ‘How about we take our cattle home?’

‘I’ll drive,’ said Bree. ‘Finn, do you need to take photos?’

‘Yeah, I’ll come with you. Marcus and his crew are taking these perps down to the station for holding. Babe, you’d know a good spot on the station for me to take notes on the evidence?’

---