by Ariel Tachna
“Yeah. I’m the one who heard the comments, after all.”
They headed toward where Thorne sat. Seth wondered where Ian was, but maybe he’d gone to get something else to eat or drink. “Ready to go, lads?” Thorne asked as they approached.
“I was ready an hour ago,” Seth said, “but before we go, I figured you ought to hear what’s being muttered by the hands.”
“Some combination of working for poofters and Lang Downs taking over?”
“So you heard it too?”
“Hard not to unless you’re so caught up in grief that you don’t hear anything not said to your face,” Thorne replied. “I’ll call Walker when we get home. You didn’t meet him when he came for a visit, but he’s one of my mates from the Commandos. He just got out and is looking for a job. Even if he just fills in for the summer until Jeremy can find a full-time foreman, he’ll keep the jackaroos in line.”
“And they’ll think twice about attacking Sam and Jeremy if they have to get through someone like your friend,” Jason said.
Thorne sat up straighter. “Did you hear someone making threats?”
“No,” Seth admitted, “but the blokes who attacked Chris before we came to Lang Downs never made threats either. They just jumped him one day. In town, in broad daylight. If it could happen there, how much more easily could it happen out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“I’ll call Walker as soon as we get back to Lang Downs,” Thorne repeated, “and I’ll put a word in Neil’s ear. Sam might not be much of a fighter, but I’ve heard enough tales of Neil’s misspent youth. They won’t catch him off guard.”
“Thanks, Thorne,” Seth said. “I’ll feel better knowing they have someone looking out for them. If it were different circumstances, I wouldn’t worry about Jeremy. I know he can take care of himself, but like you said, he’s too caught up in his grief to hear what’s going on around him right now.”
“We’ll watch out for him until he can look after himself again,” Thorne promised. “None of us want to see anything happen to either of them. We’re ready to go if you want to head toward the car. I’ll find Ian and Neil and meet you there.”
“NEIL. CAN I speak with you for a minute?”
Neil looked up when Thorne called his name. “Yeah, what’s going on?”
Thorne tipped his head at Jeremy and started walking away. Neil frowned and followed him until they were out of Sam and Jeremy’s earshot. “What’s going on?” he repeated.
“You’ve probably heard, if not today then earlier, that not all the jackaroos are happy with Jeremy inheriting the station and bringing Sam with him,” Thorne began.
Neil snorted. “I’ve had three men quit already and I expect a dozen more to leave once the funeral is over. I’m hoping we still have a skeleton crew by the time the week is out. I don’t think the year-rounders will leave. They’ve got a certain loyalty to the station and to the Taylor family that will hopefully keep them around long enough to see that Jeremy’s a good man despite his ‘faults,’ but it’s going to be a rough summer.”
“I already told Jeremy I’d see if Walker wanted a job, but I was just talking to Seth and Jason. I think Seth is overreacting, but he’s worried some of the jackaroos will do more than just talk and we’ll have a mob on our hands—and not of the animal variety. I told him I’d warn you, just to be safe, and I’ll tell Walker as well. It’s probably his memories of Chris being bashed instead of anything based on the current situation, but forewarned is forearmed, and all that.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Neil said. “I haven’t heard any threats, just complaints, but they know where I stand on the matter so they’d be stupid to let me hear them making threats. Molly had talked about staying a few more days, but I’ll send her home with someone today. I can use the kids as an excuse so she won’t worry.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Thorne said. “I’ve heard stories.”
Neil grinned, the hothead he’d left behind rising to the surface at the thought of a threat to his brothers. “I won’t start anything because that wouldn’t help Sam and Jeremy, but I damn well will finish anything they start.”
“HEY, LACHLAN, I didn’t expect to hear from you today. Didn’t you tell me you had a funeral to attend?” Walker’s voice was a balm to Thorne’s nerves. Only Ian could settle him more quickly than Walker, but Thorne didn’t want Ian anywhere near the current situation. He didn’t want Ian getting hurt.
“That’s kind of what I was calling about,” Thorne said. “You remember Sam and Jeremy from when you were here?”
“Yeah, big blond stockman with the blue-eyed dog and the accountant with the cat that followed him around like a puppy,” Walker said.
“Yeah, that would be them. Jeremy’s brother owned Taylor Peak, the station next to Lang Downs—”
“Owned?” Walker interrupted.
“It was his funeral. He had an accident and didn’t recover. Jeremy’s brother wasn’t known for his tolerance, and Jeremy’s already lost a few men. More than that, his brother was a bit of a control freak and didn’t have a foreman, but Jeremy needs one. He has enough issues as it is without trying to do everything himself. You still looking for a job?”
“Does he know you’re offering me one?” Walker countered.
“I told him I’d call you,” Thorne said. “He seemed grateful. And just between you and me, things are really tense right now. It wouldn’t hurt for Sam and Jeremy to have a little protection.”
“Is this your gut talking or do you know something?” Walker asked.
From anyone else, Thorne would have taken offense at the question, but Walker knew him better than anyone else alive. “A little of both. We heard a lot of grumbling, and one of the kids is worried it’ll turn into more. My first reaction was to dismiss it. His brother was bashed before he came to Lang Downs, so it’s a sensitive topic for him. But then I got to thinking, and it’s not as far-fetched as I want it to be. The more immediate concern is keeping half the crew from quitting so they have enough men to keep the station afloat for the season. They can advertise for more men, but this time of year, jackaroos with any experience are in short supply.”
“And the ones who don’t have jobs usually are unemployed for a reason,” Walker agreed. “Does he have a house for me? What do I need to bring with me?”
“I don’t know. The funeral wasn’t the time to talk details,” Thorne said. “I’ll call Sam and give him your number. He was the office manager at Lang Downs before all of this. He’ll be on top of the details. And, Walker?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. You didn’t have to agree.”
“I can count on one hand the things you’ve asked me to do in more than twenty years that weren’t related to the job,” Walker said. “You saved my life. I think I got the better end of this bargain.”
“That’s not the way it works.”
“The hell it isn’t. I’ll call you when I get to Taylor Peak. You can come visit and we’ll scare the shit out of some know-it-all jackaroos. It’ll be just like the first day of basic training with all the rookies. Bring Ian with you. They’ll know you’re gay and have to shut their traps and deal with it because you’re too much of a scary bastard for them to say anything. It’ll be fun.”
Thorne laughed. He would bring Ian with him. It would be worth the constipated looks on the faces of the Taylor Peak jackaroos to watch Walker tear them a new one. “It’s a date.”
JEREMY PICKED mechanically at his food. After the funeral ended and everyone left, it had been back to the usual business of running a station, except Jeremy still didn’t feel like he knew where to start. Sure, he knew the mechanics of all the tasks required to run a station. He could do the job of any man he employed, with the possible exception of fixing a broken engine. But he’d never been the one to keep track of all those tasks—who needed to do what and when and with whom and schedule rotations—and just thinking about it made his head hurt. He was a capable crew boss.
He might even go so far as to say a bloody good crew boss. But he didn’t even know where to start when it came to being a grazier.
Thank God for Neil. He’d have gone under a dozen times already without his support.
The sound of someone clearing his throat drew his attention from his morose thoughts and neglected plate. One of his jackaroos—he didn’t know their names yet, although he needed to learn—stood in front of him, hat in hand. “Yes?”
“No disrespect, Taylor, but I signed on to work for Devlin Taylor, not his brother. And I sure as hell didn’t sign up to work on Lang Downs.” The glare he sent in Neil’s direction shocked Jeremy with its venom. He’d known Devlin hated the Lang Downs jackaroos, but he’d hoped it hadn’t carried over to the rest of the men on Taylor Peak. It appeared he’d hoped in vain. “I’ll pack my things and be off the property first thing in the morning.”
Jeremy nodded—because what else was he supposed to do?—and gestured toward Sam. “Leave an address with Sam for where you want your last paycheck to be sent. We’ll post it on Friday along with everyone else’s.”
“I don’t want your money,” the man said. “It’s as tainted as everything else you poofters touch.”
Neil was on his feet and in the man’s face before Jeremy could blink. “Be glad you already quit, mate.” The bite in his voice broke Jeremy out of his stupor. It wouldn’t help anything if a fight broke out. “Because that’s the kind of comment that’ll get a man fired. Forget about tomorrow. Pack your bag tonight. You have half an hour to get out before I throw you out.”
“You and what army, Emery?” the man spat back.
Jeremy rose from his seat and moved to separate them. Sam got there before he could. “I’d hate to have to dock your pay for damages,” he said coldly. “I suggest you take Neil’s advice.”
The jackaroo glared at all three of them and stormed out of the canteen.
“Anyone else feel that way?” Jeremy asked the men left in the canteen. “Because if you do, now’s the time to get out. No harm, no foul, no hard feelings. Your paycheck will be in the post on Friday. If you stay and I have to fire you because of your attitude, you won’t get even that much.”
Half a dozen more men stood and followed the other jackaroo out of the canteen.
“Good riddance to them,” Charlie White, a year-rounder Jeremy had known since he was a teenager, said after they’d left. “They were lazy sons of bitches anyway. You’re a Taylor, lad, and that’s all that matters to most of us.”
“Thanks, Charlie,” Jeremy said. He looked around the room, taking the time to meet the gaze of each man in the room. “Just so we’re clear here…. Yes, I’m gay. Yes, Sam is going to be here helping me run the station. No, I don’t expect you to like it, but I do expect you to respect it.” He waited for the murmurs to die down. No one else had walked out yet—a good sign. “Yes, Neil is the foreman on Lang Downs. He’s also my brother-in-law, which means he’s going to be around. Devlin had a bone to pick with Lang Downs, a lot of it because of me. I never wanted anything to happen to him, but he’s gone now and I’m running things. Unlike my brother, I don’t have a bone to pick with Lang Downs. If that’s going to be a problem, the door is right there.”
More grumbling, from different quarters, Jeremy noted. Interesting that the men who had issues with Lang Downs weren’t all the same as the ones who had issues with him being gay. Had he missed a reason for the tension between the stations? He’d have to ask Charlie about it later. “Chances are, Neil won’t be the only one either. The closest vet lives on Lang Downs. The best damn mechanic I’ve ever met lives there too. They’ve both offered their help in their areas or anywhere else I need it. I intend to take them up on it. And finally, I don’t have the same attitude toward how to run a station that Devlin did, which means there will be some changes. I’m willing to discuss them if people have questions or concerns, but I expect everyone to respect the final decisions I make. If that doesn’t work for you, now’s the time to leave.”
No one moved, although that could have been because no one wanted to do anything with him watching. He gave one last nod and grabbed his hat from next to his plate. He’d lost his appetite.
“Sam, Neil, let’s leave them to their dinner.”
Neil looked like he wanted to argue, but Sam herded him toward the door. As they walked toward Devlin’s house, Jeremy wondered how many men he’d have left come morning.
Ten
JASON JUMPED out of the ute as soon as he reached the big barn on Taylor Peak. His heart pounded as he grabbed his bag of supplies and hurried inside. Jeremy’s call had been terse, bordering on frantic. They needed a vet and they needed one now. Jason had torn out of Lang Downs as fast as he could safely drive. He hadn’t been back to Taylor Peak in the two weeks since Devlin’s funeral, and this was not how he’d wanted his first return visit to go.
“What happened?” he asked when he saw Jeremy.
“Who are you?” one of the jackaroos asked.
“Jason, thank you for getting here so quickly,” Jeremy said before Jason could answer.
“I’m the vet,” Jason told the jackaroo.
“You’re not Dr. Nelson.”
“No,” Jeremy agreed, “but he is a vet, and he was closer than having Dr. Nelson come out from Boorowa. Back here, Jason. We were moving the mob between paddocks and my horse got tangled up in barbed wire. We cut him loose as best we could and brought him back in, but he’s a mess. He’s… bloody hell, he was my horse before I came to Lang Downs, and he’s the horse Devlin used almost exclusively. I don’t want to lose him. He’s covered in blood.”
Jason’s gut clenched. Bad enough for his first emergency to be on Taylor Peak where he would have to deal with their distrust of everything related to Lang Downs. Having it be Jeremy’s one link to his brother only made it worse. If it had been a sheep, he could have assessed the situation and told them it would a better choice to butcher it than treat it. He couldn’t do that with this horse unless he had no other choice. It didn’t look that serious, but horses were fickle creatures. He’d seen vets do everything right and the horse just up and die on them anyway. And he’d seen others so badly hurt no one expected them to survive and they just had.
He approached the jittery horse carefully. The animal wasn’t fighting the crossties holding it in place, but Jason could see the way its muscles jumped in pain and protest. “Take a deep breath, Jeremy. Horses bleed. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Let me take a look at him before we panic. What’s his name?”
“Misfit,” Jeremy replied.
Bloody hell, Jason thought. If that wasn’t a biting commentary on Jeremy’s life before coming to Lang Downs, Jason didn’t know what would be.
“Okay, Misfit,” he crooned to the horse, “let’s take a look at you. You did a number on yourself, didn’t you?”
He held his hand out so Misfit could sniff it. He hadn’t sterilized them yet because he wanted the horse to smell him, not antiseptic. The time for sterilization would come later. Misfit snuffled at his hand like he was looking for a treat.
“I don’t have anything for you just yet, mate, but let me take care of you and I’ll give you the apple I was going to eat for lunch,” Jason promised. He ran a soothing hand down Misfit’s neck as he stepped to the side away from Jeremy to assess the injuries. Someone had removed the barbed wire, but the damage the braided metal had left behind on the horse’s skin was obvious. Mostly around its back legs, fortunately, with no injuries he could see on Misfit’s chest or belly, but the chestnut coat would hide small amounts of blood. He’d look more closely as he worked, but Misfit was still standing, so he doubted anything critical had been torn open. Suture him up, give him antibiotics, something for the pain. He could handle this.
“Okay, I’m going to give him a sedative for the pain and to keep him calm while we treat him.” Jason rummaged in his bag for a syringe and filled it with the sedative. It would take a few minutes for it to work, but he could use
that time to scrub up and find out what had happened. Misfit shivered all over when Jason injected the sedative, but he calmed to Jeremy’s touch.
“Is there a sink I can use to clean up before we start? I don’t want to make him worse because I have dirty hands.”
“Over here,” Jeremy said.
Jason scrubbed his hands and arms thoroughly. “Where’d the barbed wire come from?” he asked while he waited for the sedative to take effect.
“It was lying in the scrub,” Jeremy muttered. “The more I find out about the way Devlin ran things the past couple of years, the less I like. I’ve found more than one pile of scrap from fences just lying around in the paddocks. I’ve ordered it cleaned up, but I only have so many men and that isn’t our only chore.”
A jackaroo joined them as Jason was washing up.
“Who’s the kid?” he asked.
“Jason Thompson, from Lang Downs,” Jeremy replied. “He just finished vet school and came home to work. Jason, this is Tim Perkins, one of my crew bosses.”
Perkins made a noncommittal noise and went to stand by Misfit’s head, stroking his forelock soothingly.
When Misfit’s head began to drop and he started looking drowsy instead of frantic, Jason grabbed his clippers. “I’ll be as gentle as I can, but if he moves around, he runs the risk of getting hurt worse. Keep him as calm as you can. I’d rather not twitch him unless we have to.”
Jeremy joined the other man at Misfit’s head. Jason could feel them watching him. He did his best not to squirm under Perkins’s assessing gaze, but he could feel the weight of judgment from every jackaroo in the station in that look. Jason knew how gossip spread on a station. By now, all the hands not in the barn would have heard all about how the new vet—a kid—had come instead of the usual vet. And every one of them would judge him based on how well he treated Misfit.
He couldn’t focus on that. He had to pay attention to what he was doing or he could make matters worse, and that wouldn’t do anything to help his reputation.