Page 15 of Clear Skies (Stormcloud Station)

CHAPTER SIX

DAISY CAST HER fishing lure into the billabong in one long, even stroke. She was getting the hang of this. Now all she needed was for one of those big, beautiful, silver fishes to take a little nibble, and…

“Caught anything yet?” Dale called to her, dimples flashing from beneath the brim of his hat.

“No,” she said, trying to hide her sulky pout. Four of the other five guests had all caught at least one barramundi so far. Why was she so bad at this fishing thing?

Early this morning, Dale had asked if she wanted to join their group, to try a spot of fishing at the other end of the billabong. The guests were supposed to go on a tour of the old gold mine over at the base of the escarpment, and then on a horse ride in the afternoon, but both activities had been cancelled. As Daisy looked around, she could see why. Any dips or depressions were engulfed in water. It was like they were surrounded by small, shallow lakes. So Alek had come up with an alternative.

At first, she’d refused Dale’s offer, asking if someone could take her home, instead. It’d taken him a lot of careful explanation and then some hard truths when she still failed to understand that she would not be returning to Koongarra today. The creek would be impassable. It was frustrating and aggravating and she’d had to stop herself stamping her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Worry for River had eaten away at her all night, and she’d tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She had the spare part for his motorcycle still sitting in the rear seat of her car, so he was effectively stranded until she got home. What would he be doing all alone at the outstation?

If he was actually alone. There was also a nagging doubt at the back of her mind that River might be seeing a girl from the community. He’d kept it a secret, heading off on his motorcycle a couple of times a week and not returning for hours, only giving her vague explanations as to where he’d been. She’d warned him repeatedly that he was taking a risk by constantly visiting the Kuku community. But she couldn’t really blame him, they were living such an isolated life. The community itself didn’t have a lot to do with the outside world, living as much as possible off the land. The elders ran a dry camp, and they didn’t tolerate any trouble. River told her that only a few months ago, two young members had been expelled for beating up a third guy. The elders had also promised to protect her and River’s identities as a favor to her mother. It was still a risk, though, to be seen in the community regularly. Daisy knew trust was a slippery commodity, often hard won, but then easily lost.

As Dale had stood waiting for her answer, in a moment of madness, she considered setting off on her own, perhaps borrowing one of those ATVs and making her way across country. To check that her baby brother really was safe. But in the end, she knew Dale was right, and she’d have to control that impatient streak of hers and try to keep the worry to a minimum. She also didn’t want to ruin the fragile trust that was growing between her and Dale.

So, after a rather large breakfast—the food here was amazing, pancakes with native lillypillys instead of blueberries, waffles with wild bush honey, free-range scrambled eggs from their own chicken coop, and piles of small beef chipolatas that Daniella proudly proclaimed were made from station-bred cattle—Daisy had followed the group of half-a-dozen guests trailing behind Dale to get outfitted with a fishing rod and waders.

And now, even though she hadn’t had one damn nibble from those pesky fish, Daisy found herself enjoying the peace and quiet of standing next to a billabong, surrounded by lush, green growth, listening to the frogs sing their morning melodies and the cicadas buzzing in the trees.

Dale had loaned her one of his old Akubra’s to keep the sun off her face, and she tipped it backward to stare at the blue above. Who would’ve thought that after such a wild, wet, and windy day yesterday, that the sun would shine down like there’d been no storm at all? Clear skies as far as the eye could see. Daisy was learning that was the top end for you.

Dale had showed her how to wind in the lure as it sat suspended just below the surface. He also said she’d know if she had a fish on the line, because when they struck, they pulled like a steam train. Winding her lure up, she moved a few yards farther away and cast her line out again to a slightly different spot. She’d listened as Dale told her and the other guests that most of the barramundi in the billabong were stocked by them. But after a big rain and flooding like they’d just had, wild fish often found their way into the waterways, which helped to keep the breeding stock strong. He hinted that he’d seen a few fish over three feet long, which had the man with the double chin and another corporate-type man—Daisy thought of him as the Silver Fox of the troupe—impatient to get fishing. Men and their egos. Daisy gave a quiet huff of aggravation.

She heard the swish of grass right before Dale appeared at her shoulder. “Would you like a few more tips on how to cast the lure correctly?” He gave her a wicked grin as he fixed her with his intense gaze.

“No, thank you. I’m getting the hang of it just fine.” She pulled her line in and recast to prove her point.

He moved in a little closer so he could talk quietly in her ear. “I had a good time last night, thank you.”

“No, thank you for sharing your hideout with me.” She stared up into his eyes for a second. Surprisingly, she’d enjoyed her time sitting in the laundry with him. Who would’ve thought a laundry could be such a place for escape? She’d finally relaxed for the first time that day—perhaps the wine had something to do with it—and the little room had felt intimate and welcoming.

It’d been nice getting to know Dale, too. He was lovely. Way too lovely for her, but she allowed herself that small indulgence and enjoyed their time together.

“I really liked our…enlightening conversation.” She said no more, merely raised her eyebrows. He understood by her facial expression alone what she was hinting at. Dale had opened her eyes to some of the goings on at Stormcloud Station. He’d told her things that perhaps he shouldn’t have. But they’d clearly been eating away at him for a while, and it seemed he had no one else to talk to. He was worried about Karri. Had told Daisy that all was not well between his mother and the young woman. That he’d overheard Daniella talking about firing her to Steve one night. Something had happened between the two women that Dale couldn’t put a finger on. He was worried that perhaps her mother had said something to Karri to drive her away.

“So, you think your mother might be the cause of her disappearing like that?” Daisy had asked him, mind-boggling at the idea of the poor, young Karri being harangued by the indomitable woman and feeling so overwhelmed that she fled to Koongarra, even in the middle of a huge storm.

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Surely, your mum would’ve said something when Steve mentioned he was going to call the police?”

“Again, I really hope so. If not in front of all of us, then at least she might’ve told Steve in private.” Dale’s face had pulled back into a grimace of unease, and she felt sorry for him. Wondering at the same time how it would feel to not trust your own mother one-hundred percent. It was perhaps an indicator of how Daniella operated. It seemed running the resort came before anything else in her life. Including her family. Daisy’s heart went out to Dale as she began to have an insight into his life, and the fact that it might not have been all sunshine and roses, as she imagined. Neither had hers, but for different reasons. At least she had an affectionate family environment. And she knew her mother loved her unconditionally. It was a bit of a cliché, but Dale fit the bill of the poor little rich kid more, now that she was getting to know him.

They’d talked some more, and she’d tried to steer the topic away from herself as often as possible. The fewer lies she told, the better. Dale mentioned Steve was sort of a stepfather to him, although he and his mum were never married; they’d lived together for over seventeen years. Steve had a daughter of his own from a previous marriage, Julie, but she was six or seven years older than Dale, and they hardly saw her out here on the station, as she had a career and a life in Brisbane. She’d also been intrigued to find out that Dale’s biological father owned a large cattle station up in the north of Western Australia, but his mum had left him when Dale was only two. So, cattle ranching was in his blood. And he had two younger half-brothers who lived with his biological father, who he hardly ever saw, either.

They stood in silence, both contemplating the billabong. She was about to ask him if Steve had indeed called the police this morning when a voice split the air. “Hey, Dale,” the Silver Fox called out. “Joanna’s got her line snagged.”

Daisy looked over to where the older couple were wrestling with a fishing rod. The Silver Fox’s wife was dressed in such a low-cut top her breasts were on the verge of popping out, and Daisy couldn’t help but stare at the tight jeans and brand new, shiny boots the woman was wearing.

To go fishing.

It took all types, Daisy reminded herself as she looked down at her more sensible waders. They’d all been offered a pair, as Dale warned them the area would be waterlogged and boggy after the rain. Joanna had turned her nose up at them.

Dale gave a quiet sigh. “No rest for the wicked,” he said, and reeled his line in.

“Be right there, Jack.” His voice was bright and unconcerned. No one would know he wasn’t fully invested in every one of his guests’ entertainment.

Damn that Joanna, Daisy had been enjoying their conversation. Probably enjoying it too much, if the truth be told. She watched Dale’s retreating backside as he high stepped over the tall grass along the edge of the billabong. He wore the same uniform as yesterday, jeans and a button-up shirt—except the shirt was a light blue today, instead of dark blue—and he’d swapped his cowboy boots for waders like hers. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, exposing tanned arms and a hint of a nicely bulging bicep. He was taller than her, but not by much, and she guessed he was probably a smidge over six foot. It was the way he walked, stalking along with the grace of a hunting cat. Each movement economical and neat, as if everything he did was intentional and well-thought-out. He also had a way of giving her his entire focus, zeroing in on her with his intense, brown eyes. It should’ve been unnerving, but Daisy merely found herself wanting to drown in those luscious, deep pools.

---