Page 8 of Stockman's Showdown

‘Thank you for cleaning my shotgun, Ryder.’

Ryder, huh?Bree rarely called him by his name. It was alwayscupcake. Cap had the nickname tiger, or kennel master. Dex was stormcloud. And Ash was snowflake. The girls had their own nicknames too, none of which Ryder cared to remember. But he vividly recalled the day Bree had called him that ridiculous pet name—Cupcake.It made him grit his teeth that someone dared call him that. But that redhead did it with all his brothers, as if poking and prodding to see what they were made of.

Beneath that outlaw attitude and brassy sass was a clever woman who challenged him daily—if he was lucky to see her daily. And if he did, it was rare she stayed longer than ten minutes at a time, passing through to drop her bomb of information and leave.

The only time they’d spent any real time together was when they’d mustered a herd at midnight after a wild dog attack. They didn’t talk much, but listening to Bree sing a soft lullaby to the herd under the glow of a full moon had been truly magical.

Then there was the time when they were sitting in the hospital room watching over Dex, who was strapped to a breathing machine. Bree had been there, holding Dex’s hand as he struggled to breathe, with the noise from the in-and-out raspy machine pumping oxygen into Dex’s lungs to keep him alive. Ryder had never been more grateful to Bree, who had stood by his family—and by him. It was during those moments he’d felt a shift, opening a space in his heart just for her, even if he hadn’t realised it at the time. And after finding someone who had seen him through the darkest of nights, was it any wonder he wanted to hold on to her?

So, this muster he had a plan. Ryder had purposely chosen to park up his muster chopper, leave the satellite phone home, and ride in the saddle in hope of connecting with Bree, while keeping her in his sights. And she was worth the watch as a third-generation stockwoman.

Funnily enough, Bree was the only one Ryder wasn’t paying to work this muster. Originally, he’d paid Harper to be the nanny, but now she did a day in the office as their bookkeeper. Mia was their full-time employee as their nursery manager. Sophie had originally been paid to nurse Dex back to health. Now he was paying for their time on this muster. And he paid his brothers and Charlie wages as stockmen. The only one who refused was Bree, repeating that line:I don’t work for you boys.

Sure, it annoyed him, but he had to respect her for that. Even so, he always made sure he’d given Charlie double the wages, plus a bonus for Bree’s help.

Bree was also the only woman he’d ever handed his credit card to so she could shop for their musters. Not only did she stock up their farmhouse pantry, but she ensured they all had proper equipment, providing the receipts, and not ripping him off once, when he’d given her plenty of opportunity to do so. Without knowing it, Bree had ticked all his boxes.

Now, he was hoping by the end of this muster she realised how much he cared for her—even though he was expecting her to fight him.

With a military past, it’s a good thing he was used to fighting because she was worth the fight, as the only woman fiery enough to melt the ice in his veins.

Four

‘This place is amazing.’ Sophie clicked away on her camera, while swivelling in her saddle.

With mild amusement Bree grinned at Sophie, who was riding her horse like a drunk stockman leaving the pub long after last drinks had been called.

‘Welcome to Emu Plains.’ And what a glorious morning it was, where the sun had yet to breach the escarpment that made up Cattleman’s Keep, extending its shadow across Emu Plains. The sweet scent of sunrise made Bree lift her chin to the clear cobalt-blue sky as a salmon-pink haze chased the last of the night beyond the horizon.

This wide-open valley held some of the richest grazing grasses and was now home to a small herd of buffalo wallowing in the nearby billabong. Spread like a crochet carpet over the water’s surface, small wild lotus opened their white petals to greet the new day. Groups of ibis, a few ducks, and even some long-legged jabirus stalked along its edges. Elsie Creek Station was certainly putting on a show this morning—no wonder Sophie kept clicking away at her camera.

‘Are they buffalo?’ Dex rode alongside Bree, nodding at the beefy herd.

‘They’re not feral, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘Charlie never mentioned them.’

Bree shrugged.

‘But I bet you know the plan for having them here?’

Of course she did. It was her idea. ‘We brought the buffalo in when Darcie’s son took all the cattle. They’re good for keeping certain grasses down that would otherwise become a potential fuel for bushfires.’ Once this valley used to be filled with cattle, like snowdrops across a painter’s canvas, now it was just a sea of grass.

‘So they’re there for a reason?’

‘Gold star to you, stormcloud. Don’t worry, we monitor their health, so they don’t become a pest.’ Remembering herself and her position, she shifted in the saddle to check on the four horses trailing behind her. ‘It’s something you’ll need to discuss with your brothers if you decide to keep the buffalo.’

‘Do you think we should?’

‘It’s not my place to say.’ Not anymore, that’s for sure.

‘Come on, Bree…’

She sighed, wiping her mouth with the back of a riding glove. ‘Perhaps you can use them until you get cattle grazing in this valley again. Then you could move them closer to Scary Forest to keep the edges clear around some of the billabongs, and as bait for any crocs lurking there, instead of them pinching your beef. They do fight against those snapping handbags, especially when they’re kept to a small herd.’

‘Good to know.’

She could practically hear Dex thinking from his horse. But would they do it?

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