by Ariel Tachna
“Get out,” Devlin spat, blood running from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t come back until you’ve got a wife and a respectable life.”
Jeremy closed his eyes for a second, knowing from the tone of Devlin’s voice how deadly serious he was. “I’ll be gone before sunset.”
“And don’t take anything that belongs to the station,” Devlin added.
That would be impossible, since Jeremy had never bothered drawing a salary and bought what he needed with station funds the same way Devlin did, but Jeremy was tired of arguing with his brother. He would take what he considered to be his personal belongings and leave the rest. He could replace anything else once he got a job on another station. He hoped Lang Downs was hiring because that would be an extra punch to his brother’s gut, but if they weren’t, Jeremy figured he had enough experience to get a job pretty much anywhere.
He climbed the stairs to his room, rubbing his jaw where Devlin’s fist had caught him, and proceeded to pack his clothes and toiletries. He considered taking his phone but decided Devlin would just cancel the contract if he did since it was on the station’s account. Looking at the duffel that contained everything in the world he could truly consider his, he scowled at the sorry state of his life. He should have done this years ago.
“I’m taking my car,” he told Devlin when he got downstairs. “I’ll send it back when I get where I’m going.”
Devlin didn’t even look up from where he sat at his desk, a cold pack on his lip.
Jeremy turned on his heel and walked out of the house where he’d grown up, whistling for Arrow, his kelpie, as he went. It was time to shake the dust of Taylor Peak off his feet.
“IT’S TOO early for Neil to be back, isn’t it?” Caine asked Macklin, looking down the valley at the plume of dust from the gravel road.
“I wasn’t expecting him before dinner,” Macklin said, following Caine’s gaze.
“Are we expecting anyone else?”
“Not that I was aware of,” Macklin said. “I guess we should go see who it is.”
“I can handle it if you want to stay here and finish getting the sheep settled,” Caine offered, though he knew Macklin would refuse.
“No, I’ll go with you,” Macklin said.
Caine gave his lover an indulgent smile. He still hadn’t figured out what kind of trouble Macklin thought he would get into walking across the valley by himself, especially since Polly, Jason’s dog, had been on Caine’s heels all day and didn’t seem inclined to leave now, but Caine didn’t argue either. He could handle whatever or whoever was driving down their road by himself, but that didn’t mean he would enjoy it, depending on what it was.
As the dust cloud approached, Caine could make out a plain black Jeep much like the ones they used at Lang Downs for trips to town. Eventually it pulled up to where they were standing and a man Caine didn’t know climbed out, followed by a solid brown kelpie with the bluest eyes Caine had ever seen on a dog.
“Taylor?” Macklin said, tensing at Caine’s side. “What are you doing here?”
Taylor meant Taylor Peak, and that meant their jackass of a neighbor, but this wasn’t Devlin Taylor. This man was closer to Caine’s age than Macklin’s, and much more the typical jackaroo than Devlin Taylor could ever hope to be.
“Sorry to arrive uninvited,” Taylor said, “but my brother kicked me off the station. I’m hoping you’ve got space for one more, for a day or two, anyway.”
“Why did he kick you out?” Macklin asked.
“I got tired of listening to his bullshit,” Taylor said. “I called him on it and he didn’t take it well.”
“That how you got the shiner?” Macklin asked.
“Yeah, but it was worth it,” Taylor replied. “The look on his face was priceless.”
“What did you say?” Macklin asked, his voice sounding amused now.
“He was going on about you two, the way he does when he gets in a snit,” Taylor said. “I told him I’d rather work for you than for a homophobic bigot who still couldn’t run his station as well as the two men he was so determined to insult.”
Caine couldn’t stop the grin that crossed his face. “Caine Neiheisel,” he said, holding out his hand to their guest. “Welcome to Lang Downs.”
“Jeremy Taylor. Nice to finally meet you.”
“So are you looking for a place to crash for a few days or are you looking for a job?” Macklin asked after Caine and Jeremy had shaken hands.
“A job, if you’ve got one, but at this point, I’ll settle for not having to drive to Boorowa tonight.”
“The foreman’s position is already taken,” Macklin said, not quite cracking a smile, although Caine thought he heard amusement in the words, “but we’ve got space in the bunkhouse.”
“It’s a roof over my head,” Taylor said. “That’s good enough for me.”
“Come on, then. We’ll find you a bunk,” Macklin said. “Caine, you want to tell Kami there will be one more for dinner?”
“Of course,” Caine said, even though he was dying to go with them and find out more about their newest stray. But he would have time. He didn’t have to know everything right now.
“SO YOU want to tell me what was different this time?” Macklin asked as he led Jeremy toward the bunkhouse, Arrow following on their heels. “Devlin’s been shouting filth in our direction for more than a year, since he found out about Caine, and he’s been pressuring you to fit into his mold for longer than that.”
“He started in about me getting married,” Jeremy said. “Same shit, different day, but today I just got tired of it. He can shout and threaten all he wants. I’m not getting married because of it, and I got sick of listening to it.”
“That station is your birthright too.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Not in any way that counts. His name’s on the deed. Maybe Dad meant for us to run it together, but he didn’t give me any actual say in it in any kind of legal way that I could enforce. I was at uni still when he died, so maybe that made a difference. Who knows? I’ve spent more than ten years being ignored every time I’ve tried to point out to Devlin a way to improve something. Never mind that I’m the one with the degree in animal management, not him. I’m his kid brother, so I don’t know anything. I got tired of it, and listening to him insult you was one thing too many.”
“You know the rumors that are going to make the rounds since you came here instead of going to a different station,” Macklin said. “Nobody here cares what the gossips have to say, but it might make going somewhere else later harder than if you went to a different station.”
Jeremy shrugged. “They won’t be saying anything that isn’t true. Maybe I never told anybody. Maybe I’d never planned on telling anybody, but that doesn’t make it less true.”
Macklin just nodded like he’d known all along, making Jeremy wonder what was going on behind that inscrutable stockman mask Jeremy knew so well. He’d put it on himself so many mornings he wasn’t sure how to take it off anymore. Had Macklin suspected? Or did he simply accept it that easily? Jeremy wasn’t sure it mattered, and it made him more grateful than he could say.
“It’s up to you what you tell people or don’t,” Macklin said as they reached the bunkhouse. “I’m not one for telling tales.”
“Thanks,” Jeremy said. “It’ll be hard enough in there, being a Taylor. Being gay won’t help.”
“Depends on who you’re talking to,” Macklin said with a grin. “Some of them might consider that a point in your favor.”
“I’m here to work, not to fuck around,” Jeremy said. “I’m not interested in a relationship.”
Macklin laughed. “Where have I heard that before? I appreciate the attitude, but as long as the work’s done, the rest is up to you and whoever you choose to spend your time with. I don’t keep tabs on my men’s personal lives unless they interfere with the job.”
They went inside and peeked in rooms until they found an empty bunk. “You can take a few minutes to unpack
if you want,” Macklin offered. “You can meet us at the sheds.”
“And have someone come in and see me and think I’m here without your permission?” Jeremy said, tossing his duffel on the bed. “I’ll unpack tonight after work. By then hopefully everyone will realize I’m here with your blessing.”
“Most of the ones here in the bunkhouse are too new to remember the dustup with Devlin,” Macklin replied. “They might recognize your name, but it’s only the year-rounders, who tend to have houses of their own, who might have an issue with you.”
Jeremy wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. The jackaroos in the bunkhouse would be leaving in a few weeks, for the most part, off to wherever they spent the winter once the bulk of the work from breeding was done. Jeremy would have the bunkhouse pretty much to himself after that, but the men he would have to work with when the seasonal hires were gone all knew his family, his brother, and the ongoing animosity between the two stations. Or, to be fair, the ongoing animosity Devlin felt toward Lang Downs. Jeremy had never shared that sentiment, even before Caine’s arrival and finding out both he and Macklin were gay, but while Macklin knew that, Jeremy doubted the others would.
“I’ll still make a better impression by coming to work now, since I know there’s work to be done,” Jeremy said.
“There’s always work to be done,” Macklin said with a shrug.
“Then let’s get to it,” Jeremy said. “Come on, Arrow.”
Two
NEIL PULLED his car behind the house he identified to Sam as his and Molly’s. “We’ll put your bag inside. You can unpack later. It’s dinnertime, and you don’t want to miss whatever Kami has cooked up for us.”
Sam set his bag inside the door and followed Neil across the station. He’d worn his sturdiest shoes, but now he wished he had taken Neil up on his offer to buy him some boots in Boorowa. His shoes would be ruined in a matter of days. He’d already asked Neil for so much, though. He couldn’t ask for more. The canteen was full of men in line to get food from the huge aborigine on the other side of the counter, some men already at tables, eating, and a few who looked like they’d already finished. He didn’t let his eyes linger as he took in the scene. He wasn’t known here, and while Neil had said people accepted the bosses, Sam was an unknown quantity. He didn’t want to start his first evening with a fight. If Neil was right and Caine might hire Sam for his experience as an office manager, fighting or causing a fight was not the right first impression to make.
Despite himself, though, his gaze lingered on a man sitting off at a table by himself. Sam couldn’t have said what set that man apart from a room full of stockmen, besides being the only man sitting alone, but the dirty-blond hair, slightly spiky, like he’d run his hands through it more than once, and the shadow of a day’s growth on his chin and cheeks called to something in Sam. The man radiated masculinity, and Sam couldn’t help reacting. “Who’s that?” he asked Neil, trying not to stare too obviously.
“Bloody hell,” Neil spat. “What is he doing here?”
Before Sam could ask what that meant, Neil was striding across the room. The man who had caught Sam’s eye saw him coming and stood, hands at his side but clearly braced for a fight. A third man, one who looked as hard as the granite beneath their feet, interrupted Neil’s progress. “Don’t blame one man for his brother’s faults.”
“What’s he doing here?” Neil repeated.
Deeming it safe, Sam drew closer, wanting to learn what he could about the man and Neil’s reaction to him.
“Working,” the older man said. “Caine hired him this morning, so unless you want to argue with him over it, back off.”
Sam tensed, knowing how badly Neil reacted to those kinds of orders when his temper was high. His jaw dropped when Neil shook himself and took a step back. “If Caine hired him, I won’t make trouble, but if he starts anything, I will finish it.”
“That’s fair, Macklin,” the other man said from his place against the wall. “You know I’m not going to start anything, so as long as he keeps his word, we’ll be square.”
“I keep my word, Taylor,” Neil ground out. “Unlike some people.”
“Neil, that’s enough.” Another man entered the conversation, a younger one, with short dark hair and an American accent. Sam figured that must be Caine. “Jeremy asked for a place to stay and a job after he left Taylor Peak. I’ve given him that. I’d appreciate it if you respect that.”
Neil visibly deflated. “Yes, boss. I’m sorry.”
“Introduce me to your brother.”
Neil turned toward Sam. “Caine, this is my brother, Sam. Sam, my boss, Caine Neiheisel.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Sam said, even though Caine was probably Sam’s age, maybe even a little less. He owed the man the roof over his head and maybe a job, if Neil was right. Sam planned to mind his manners.
“Please, call me Caine. We aren’t formal here. Welcome to Lang Downs.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you letting me stay for a while.”
Caine smiled, and Sam felt warmth bloom inside at the kindness he saw there. It wasn’t sexual. Sam knew Caine was with Macklin, and if Macklin was indeed the man who had kept Neil from attacking Taylor, Caine wouldn’t look twice at someone like Sam. It felt almost familial, like he’d been adopted and hadn’t known it until now. “Get something to eat—I know how hard the drive is from Yass—and get settled in tonight. Tomorrow I’d like to talk to you. I have some business questions, and Neil thought you might be able to help.”
“I’m happy to help any way I can,” Sam said. “I don’t know a lot about sheep, but other than industry-specific regulations, the laws don’t vary that much from one business to another. I should be able to help you out. And if I can’t, I might know someone who can get the information we need.”
“Good to hear,” Caine said. “We’ll talk about it after breakfast tomorrow. Did Neil warn you what time the day starts around here?”
“No,” Sam said.
“Early,” Neil replied. “Breakfast is at five unless there’s a reason for it to be earlier. You don’t have to come down then, but if you don’t, you’ll only get cold cereal until lunch. Kami has no patience with people who don’t get their lazy arses out of bed.”
“I’ll be up,” Sam said. “I don’t want anyone to have to go out of their way for me.”
“I’m going to finish my dinner,” Caine said. “I’ll look for you both in the morning.”
Sam turned back to Neil as Caine walked back to where he had been sitting before Neil exploded. Sam would ask again later about Taylor and the reasons behind Neil’s animosity. For now, the food smelled delicious, and Sam was getting hungry.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked, smiling at the aborigine behind the counter when he approached.
“Wombat curry,” the man—Kami, Sam thought Neil had said—replied.
“I’ve never had wombat before,” Sam said, holding his plate while Kami ladled a thick stew onto his plate.
“You aren’t having it now either,” Neil said. “It’s either beef or mutton, probably mutton. We are on a sheep station, after all. Kami likes to take the piss with blow-ins.”
“And I fell for it.”
“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last,” Kami said. “You want some naan with the curry?”
“Kami makes it fresh,” Neil said. “It’s as good or better than anything you ever got in town.”
“Sure, I’ll have a piece,” Sam said. It wouldn’t hurt to get on Kami’s good side. The man would be feeding him for the foreseeable future. Better that Kami like him.
They found a seat at a table with several other men and a pretty woman who smacked Neil on the back of the head as soon as he sat down. “What was that?” she demanded.
“Not here, Molly, please,” Neil said.
Sam hid his snicker behind a bite of curry. He had never imagined Neil looking quite so henpecked. “Fine,” Molly said, not sounding at all pac
ified, “but we will discuss this when we get home.”
Neil looked so mortified that Sam took pity on him. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Sam, Neil’s brother.”
Molly looked like she wanted to smack Neil again. “No manners,” she muttered with an affectionate glare in her fiancé’s direction. “Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Molly. Welcome to Lang Downs.”
“Thank you. Everyone has been very kind.”
“It’s that kind of place,” Molly said, “which is why we’re going to discuss Neil’s outburst later. He’s second in line behind Macklin. He can’t go around acting stupid, or he’s going to lose his place.”
“It’s Jeremy Taylor,” Neil said with a frown. “What was I supposed to think?”
“That your bosses pay enough attention to who’s in their canteen to realize he was there and that if they know he’s there and don’t have a problem with it, you shouldn’t either?” Molly suggested.
“Taylor?” Sam repeated. “Like the neighboring station?”
“Yes, that Taylor,” Neil said. “Well, the younger brother, but that family. I said I wouldn’t start anything, and I won’t, but I don’t trust him. Devlin Taylor wouldn’t know good management if it bit him in the arse.”
Sam glanced at Taylor across the room, wondering what had led the other man to leave his home and come here instead. Taylor rose as Sam was looking that way, dumped his plate in the bin of dirty dishes, and headed outside. Sam couldn’t help but think the man looked lonely.
“IT’S NOT fancy,” Neil said, opening the door to the guest room in the foreman’s house. “Molly’s been fixing up our room, but she hasn’t got to the other rooms yet. The plan was to work on the living room over the winter, but maybe she can do this one instead.”
The room was plain, as Neil had said, but it was clean, and the linens on the bed smelled like summer rain. Sam didn’t know how Molly had managed that on a dusty station in late autumn, but he wasn’t about to complain. He ran his fingers over the embroidered bedspread. “Is this Mum’s?”