Page 2 of Stockman's Showdown

On hands and knees, she peered under the cabinet. ‘The water disappeared.’

Harry arched an eyebrow at her.

‘I’m not being silly.’

‘I didn’t say you were.’ He crouched down beside her. ‘You might have a hole made by pests.’

‘White ants?’ They were everywhere, wood-eating monsters no bigger than her sewing needle, that built enormous nests. Some were impressive pyramids of red mud, others were like thin gravestones for giants. Along with the snakes, scorpions, and spiders bigger than her head, Elsie Creek Station was a terrifying place for a girl who’d come from the city wanting a home and a family.

‘Want me to take a look?’

She shrugged.

‘I’d hate for you to fall through the floor.’ He looked at her with concern. That’s what Harry did, always watching out for her welfare, always checking on her. How she’d missed that, and him.

Together, they slid the heavy dresser aside to expose the line where the water had disappeared between the floorboards.

From his toolbox, Harry pulled out a small fencing crowbar and jimmied the floorboard free. ‘Crikey, that was easy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘By rights, it should have been harder to shift.’ He pulled the board back to reveal two metal military tins wedged in the space above the concrete slab.

‘Careful.’ She grabbed Harry’s arm. ‘My husband stores his dynamite in those types of army tins.’

‘Was Jack in the Army?’

‘Jack doesn’t like to talk about it.’ Her husband told her nothing these days, and she’d stopped asking questions a long time ago. She’d been so dead inside, until Harry entered her world like he was the sun. ‘Do you know where Jack is?’

‘He’s with the rest of the men out at Starvation Dam. They’re blasting today… But would your husband keep his dynamite in the house, under the floorboards?’

‘Jack keeps his dynamite in the shed in this special wax paper I make for him.’ It had her curious though, using her apron to mop off the water from the lids. ‘Do we have to look inside?’

‘Do you want me to?’

She gazed into his beautiful blue eyes, his tan only enriching their colour, and noted the level of kindness. It was that same expression he’d worn, the first time they’d met, over a year ago now, when the young stockman, Charlie Splint, introduced his older brother, Harry, to her at the local Elsie Creek Rodeo. She’d never expected Harry to become a stockman at the station, where he’d tip his hat to her with a smile.

At first the cordial conversations started in the sheds, the chicken coop, even the laundry house. And then she’d catch him leaving flowers for her in the washing basket, in the cleaning cupboards, or on the windowsill by her kitchen windows. Places only she would find them.

Slowly and surely, Harry Splint had wormed his way into her heart. Despite the fact that, as a married woman, she’d done everything she could to drive him away.

But here he was, back in the flesh. And once again her heart was being a traitor to good common sense. ‘We should put the floorboard back and forget those tins exist.’ A flare of panic had her heart hammering. What if Jack came home?

‘You’re not at all curious to see what’s inside?’

She gnawed on her bottom lip.

‘I promise I won’t tell anyone, especially your husband.’ Harry scowled at her wedding photo. ‘You have to know you’re the reason why I came back, Pen. I hate how he treats you. No woman deserves to be treated like that, especially by their husband.’

‘It’s none of your business.’

‘But it became my business when I fell in love with you.’

‘Stop saying that, Harry.’

‘I know, I know.’ He shook his head, his shoulders sagging under his deep sigh. ‘But at least I made sure I got you the best telephone I could find, so that if you do decide to chase me away again, you can call me any time to come and get you.’

‘You haven’t even connected it yet.’ She went to move, but he grabbed her wrist.

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