Page 54 of Stockman's Stormcloud

He sighed, letting his heavy head drop to his chest as he stared at the concrete floor. ‘That’s when I took off my boxing gloves and started bare-knuckle fighting.’ And he never watched a game of cricket again.

‘So that’s why you choose to never get emotionally involved with anyone?’

He didn’t even nod, but Bree got the message, she was a clever cookie. But it was also clear she could relate to why he let no one get that close to the heart—it was the only thingthat could destroy a man.

‘Now that we share a trauma bond, that neither of us wanted or deserved, do you want a hug?’ Bree held out her arms, with none of that brassiness. It was the same expression she wore just before he’d been knocked out in the hospital—this was the real Bree, who rarely showed herself. She was just like him, hiding behind the smart-mouth comebacks, ready to keep on swinging.

He shook his head, but his legs moved wilfully, stepping into her arms to get the first hug he’d had in years. ‘This doesn’t mean we’re dating, you know.’

‘Of course not. But I can tell you’re breathing better, now you’ve got that crap off your chest.’

What the flip!He pushed away from her. ‘You did not just do your witchy woo-woo on me.’

‘No. It was just a conversation that won’t go anywhere.’

Somehow, in the ether of all this nonsense, he believed her. And she was right—he was breathing better.

‘But you do deserve to find your happiness, Dex.’

‘I have that here, on the station. And I enjoy driving the grader and fixing stuff. And I’ve got the test on that new drafting cradle coming up.’

‘That I totally approve of.’

‘You do?’

‘Charlie and I agree it’ll be better on the calves, less stress on them, less handling for you guys. Saving you time to process them quicker.’ Bree even nodded.

‘Exactly.’ That nod meant a lot to him. Bree was the granddaughter of a highly respected head stockman. And Bree was a great stockwoman—who’d never admit to being one.

‘But I was talking about your love-life. You like Sophie, don’t deny it. I can see it.’ She playfully poked his shoulder. ‘You get this spark in your eye when she’s near you. But I think she might be a good girl attracted to the bad boy.’

He rolled his eyes. This was far too much emotional gunk for one year. ‘How are we getting this still out of here?’

‘The same way I got it in. Watch and learn, cream puff, as the master takes the reins on this project.’

‘Talking about projects. As you know this station, can I run something by you about my paddock?’ It was easier saying it again, ‘I trust your opinion. Even if it’s brutal.’

‘Will you trust the juice? I think you should start drinking it, because, buddy, you’re on some heavy meds that could stuff up your insides.’

‘Is it that drink my parents couldn’t stop raving about? The one with hemp seeds?’

She gave an evil grin.

He waggled his finger at her, almost breathing normally again. ‘See, when you do that grin, that’s what gets me worried. Witch.’

‘Dick.’ She matched his grin, giving him the sly wink of a friend.

Eighteen

The light flickered on in the kitchen, forcing Dex to wake on Bree’s couch with a start. He’d be lucky if he’d had a few hours’ sleep, if that.

‘Morning, lad.’ Charlie turned on a tap to fill his kettle as part of his morning routine.

Dex rubbed his eyes, then squinted up at the grandfather clock. It was four in the morning. ‘Why are you up so early?’

‘Got a mate coming out.’ As the kettle boiled, Charlie plonked the large electric juicer on the bench, then pulled out a plastic container from the fridge.

Oh, no. It was juicing day again.

---