by Camryn Eyde
“I overheard what you said to Joey earlier. Do you really herd the sheep on horses?”
“Yeah, what’s it to you?”
“Why?”
Aimee scrubbed at her face. It was too early to be confused. “Why what?”
“Horses and not vehicles.”
Aimee huffed and put a bridle on her horse. “Because the flock is calmer and they’re easier to handle. A good portion of the flock is also four months pregnant.”
“How long does it take to reach the paddocks?”
“The ones where the sheep are? On horseback, thirty minutes at a trot.”
“And in the cars?”
Aimee turned to look at Justine. She propped her hands on her hips and said, “You have to go around the creek and Lachlan Hill past the ag fields, so maybe twenty minutes or so. Depends on the roads. We haven’t graded them for a while. Gav and the boys are starting that today so the shearers and the trucks can get up to the sheds.”
Justine nodded and nibbled on her lower lip.
Aimee frowned down at her. “Don’t you have someone to boss around? Those desperates won’t know which is their best side if you’re not there to tell them.”
“They’re not desperate. They’re women looking for a chance at love.”
“Yeah, by coming out here in droves to compete for a man’s attention. Real classy. Definitely true love.”
Justine shrugged. “Love can surprise you.”
Caught between asking the woman to elaborate, or running her over with her horse, Aimee was left speechless at the woman’s next question.
“Can I ride with you?”
Aimee barked out a burst of laughter. “Yeah, no. Not happening. If you fall off and break your neck, they’ll think I topped you off.”
“I think you’d be surprised at what I can accomplish.”
Aimee stared at her for a moment, contemplating the latest situation. Seeing this city woman bounce and complain on the back of a horse over some relatively rugged country would be worth the murder charges. Aimee shrugged. “It’s your funeral, and just so you know, I’m not going to run around after you. Saddle that horse over there properly, and you’re welcome to trail along.”
Justine followed Aimee’s gesture to the brown horse in the stall across from them. “Okay.”
Aimee let her jaw fall open. “What?”
“Let me tell my crew. Be right back.”
With an agility Aimee didn’t expect from someone in dress boots, designer slacks and pinched vest atop a white shirt, the woman ran lightly from the stables.
“Ah, crap.” Resigned to the fact she might be stuck with the uptight woman, Aimee walked over to River’s stall. Reaching for the saddle considering she had no choice but to get this woman on the horse, she felt her arms batted away.
“Allow me,” Justine said, smoothly walking into the stall and talking softly with the brown gelding. It was the most easy-going horse the stables housed and was often the go-to mount for Sally’s kids. Aimee’s mouth fell open and stayed there as Justine ran her hands over the horse, gave him a brush and expertly fixed his saddle around his girth.
“What…how…what?” Aimee managed to mutter as Justine floated to the horse’s back. “How the hell?”
Justine smirked down at her. “Coming?”
With a click of her tongue, the woman guided the gelding from the stables.
“Bloody hell,” Aimee muttered, rushing over to Kite and leading her outside. “You can ride?” Aimee said a few minutes later after studying the woman’s form. She was phenomenal. So balanced, so comfortable and so damn irritatingly good.
“Yes.”
“Humph,” Aimee murmured. Catching Justine’s smug smile, she turned her attention forward. Passing the machinery shed, and a small yard, Aimee took them along the rutted two-wheel track leading to the homestead water tanks. “This is where it gets rougher, princess,” she told Justine as they passed the tower holding the tank and descended down the loose shale slope on the other side.
“What is your issue?” Justine asked as the ground levelled out and they trotted their horses through open scrub.
Aimee scoffed to herself. “You need to be more specific. I have many.”
Justine chuckled with a sarcastic note. “Yeah, that I noticed, but specifically, why are you so antagonistic towards me? It can’t simply be because I lost your hat.”
“I loved that hat,” Aimee said, pouting for a little longer. After a sniff, she said, “I don’t like city slickers.”
“Yet you were trying to pick me up last night if I’m correct.”
“You’re not.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It was a case of mistaken identity. You looked like a friend or whatever.”
“If you wanted to be my friend, then giving me a second-rate cocktail wasn’t the way to go about it.”
Aimee pulled her horse up. “Second rate? I’ll have you know that cocktail is bloody awesome and I have a long line of women that will attest to that.”
Justine reined her horse in as well and swivelled in her saddle to face her. “It was vile. Tell me, have you ever actually tasted it?”
Aimee pouted and shifted in her seat. “Not so much. I don’t like spirits.”
“That’s pretty much all that was in it. I have a feeling you lured those poor women to your bed because they were drunk out of their skulls with straight…God, what was in it?”
“Vodka, bourbon and tequila with a splash of Irish cream.”
Justine shuddered.
“And for your information, I don’t lure women to my bed with that drink. It’s an icebreaker—”
“More like a solid whack to the liver.”
Aimee narrowed her eyes at the interruption. “It’s my charm they fall for, not the drink.”
“You can count yourself lucky for that. There’s no way it was bringing me to your bed.”
“Bringing you…what?” Aimee said with a stutter, picturing this woman beneath her and accidentally short-circuiting her brain. Justine smiled smugly, bringing her back to reality. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Justine said, holding her hands up in innocence.
“You didn’t have to, and for your information, I was not hitting on you.”
“Thank goodness for that, because if that was charm, then it must be nothing but your looks to lure in this swath of women you’re professing to have had.”
“My love life isn’t any of your business.” Flicking Kite’s reins, she started the horse with a jolt and trotted off towards the paddocks. Halfway up the next rise, and hearing River’s hooves against the ground behind her, she realised Justine had backhandedly called her attractive. Damn her again, and damn the stupid tingle in her belly.
***
Sally met the droving team at the northern yards at midday to provide a bevy of food for the film crew and the giggling girls hanging on her brother’s every word. Sally had only been to the beach once in her life, and the lasting memory of that holiday was the flocks of seagulls trying to eat their lunch at the foreshore near Bondi Beach. You’d throw one chip in their direction, and the seagulls would swarm in pecking at each other to get to the morsel first. Joey’s female companions reminded her of the noisy, squawking gulls determined to claim their prize.
Brittany and Tiffany were fierce in their competition to be the centre of Joey’s attention. No sooner would one woman call out to him and stick out her chest and giggle than another would do the same. Amber, looking like she was growing tired of the constant battle, started to hang back and watch how the sheep moved.
“How far along are they?” Sally heard her ask Matt.
Matt, a nineteen-year-old junior farmhand, looked around to see if Joey was beside him, and turned back to Amber with a blush when he realised the question was directed at him. “Four months. One more to go. We’re going to shear them up and fatten them up.”
Wanting to watch Matt blush some more, S
ally waved a greeting to Aimee as she rode her horse over, guiding another along behind her, and dismounted.
“How’d the sheep go with the bikes?” Sally asked her.
Aimee grunted, unwilling to say that the mustering had been no different. The pregnant ewes looked as settled as they ever did.
Sally chuckled, reading her sister’s answer. “What’s River doing up here?”
“She rode him,” Aimee said, pointing to Justine as she doubled on the back of a quad bike with her sound guy.
“Really? The suit did?”
Aimee bounced her head and chewed on her sandwich. Justine’s skills on horseback were excellent, but there was no way she was going to convey that to Sally. “She hated my cocktail.”
Sally frowned. “You made her an Aimee Special?”
Shrugging, she said, “Joey told me to be nice, so I was nice. Shame she’s such a bitch. She said the cocktail was vile.” Turning to face Sally, she said, “You’ve had it before. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
Sally made a popping noise with her lips. “Well…I’m not a big mixed drink fan, so…it, uh, wasn’t my favourite drink ever.”
“Ugh.” Aimee let her head hang forward on her shoulders. “That’s it. My sex life is over.”
Sally patted Aimee on the back. “Trust me, you didn’t earn yourself any favours with that drink, so obviously it was something else that your conquests liked. I’m thinking it’s because you’re you.”
Refusing to acknowledge the conquest barb, Aimee said, “Me?”
Smiling kindly, Sally nodded. “Exactly. You’re a beautiful young woman and you can be quite charming when you put your mind to it.” Sally tucked a wayward strand of light brown sun-bleached hair behind Aimee’s ear. “You look a lot like mum. Blue eyes, gorgeous hair and a complexion I hate you for.” Sally patted her cheek. “Soft and blemish free. You suck.”
Chuckling alongside her sister, Aimee let out a big sigh. “I accidentally hit on her last night.”
“Who?”
“Justine.”
“Really!” Sally’s eyebrows shot up. “Where the hell was I when this was happening?”
“You were tucking in the kids. I’m surprised Joey didn’t mention it. He was standing right beside me when I planned my great cocktail move.” Covering her face with her hands, Aimee groaned. “I had no idea it was her. All I saw were curves, wavy hair, and lips worth kissing.”
“Uh…Aimee.”
“And those glasses she wears…damn. But no,” she continued, still hiding her embarrassment behind calloused hands. “It turned out to be the one woman I’d sooner strangle. The Dragon.”
“Aimee, darling, perhaps you should—”
“The universe is a cruel place. Someone like her should look so damn sex—oh Jesus!” Aimee, having pulled her hands away from her face looked up to see Justine standing in front of her with a smile on her face. “What the hell, Sal!” she whispered harshly to her sister.
Sally shook her head and held her hands up. “Hey, I tried to warn you. Not my fault. I’m going to go down to the hut to set up lunch.” Sally gave Aimee a wink and walked over to her car past the crew hovering around the TV starlets.
“Lips worth kissing? Sexy? My, you do have yourself a crush, don’t you farm girl?”
Let the mortification continue, Aimee moaned silently. “My name is Aimee,” she snapped, sliding from her perch on the tray of Sally’s ute.
“And how was I supposed to know that exactly?” Justine said, following her to Kite.
“You’re a fancy producer, figure it out.”
“I believe it’s rude to call someone by their name before they’ve formally introduced themselves. Ever heard of a thing called manners?” Justine looked her up and down. “No, I suppose being raised by sheep and horses, you probably missed that lesson.”
“I know exactly what manners are, lady. I exercise my right to use them as I see fit, and I’m not wasting good manners on people coming out here and acting like dictators.”
Justine cocked an eyebrow. “You really do have yourself worked up, don’t you? Perhaps I should remind you again that your brother is the person that instigated this little production, not I. Joey signed up to be on this show and whether he conveyed to you what that would entail during the dating phase, then, again, I’m not at fault for your ignorance.” Stepping closer, Justine shoved a finger in Aimee’s breastbone. “Save your antagonism for those who deserve it.” Spinning around, she walked away, calling over her shoulder, “My name is Justine Cason, not dragon, by the way.”
“My name is Justine…na, na, na, na,” Aimee mumbled to herself petulantly, hating that Justine was right. Joey was the one she should be sniping at for this interruption in their normally peaceful rural life. She was hardly going to stir him up again after threatening to send her off to the urban life. Yes, she was twenty-three and perfectly capable of making her own decisions, but no, she wasn’t about to disobey the law of the land. Joey, the officially named manager of the property, was to be respected.
It didn’t mean, however, that she had to like him very much, and in protest against everything pissing her off, she got on her horse and dropped by the old hut where Sally was planning to set up for lunch. At least there the kids would welcome her without telling her to play nice with the city intruders.
Clicking her tongue, she urged her horse to a trot over the low, yellow pasture and over the undulations in the land. This area of Yarrabee Station was a stretch of grassy plains ringed by vegetated creek beds and rocky hills scattered in bushes. The grass was thick and tall thanks to above average winter rains, and the absence of recent stock in this paddock. Looking behind her before descending down the incline of a small hill, Aimee saw the sheep scattered across the paddock greedily eating the virgin grass. This would be their last opportunity to feed here until they rotated the stock back through in summer. Once sheared, the bulk of their stock was being driven to the top paddocks rich in new growth for the pregnant ewes, and already stocked with extra feed to accommodate for their growing bellies.
***
“Aunty Mee, Aunty Mee!” Caroline called as she escaped from her nanny’s arms. The same woman, Miss Gerhardt, acted as teacher for Sally’s family also.
“Hiya, Rolly,” Aimee said, scooping Caroline up in her arms. “Have you been good for Miss Gerhardt?” Caroline nodded firmly, a serious frown on her face.
“Robbie’s still studying?” Aimee asked Miss Gerhardt, realising for the hundredth time that she still didn’t know the woman’s first name. Asking always seemed rude, but her curiosity always remained.
“Yes.” Miss Gerhardt looked at her ever-present fob watch then to the boy hunched over a book under the shade shelter of the hut. “He has fifteen minutes. Please don’t disturb him.”
Aimee shook her head. No one messed with Miss Gerhardt’s schedule. As strict and routine-driven as she was, she was deadly efficient and remarkably patient with children. “Well, Rolly, why don’t we go see how Rainbow Sprinkles is.”
“No, silly! Rainbow Sparkles!”
Aimee grimaced playfully. “Oops.”
Her four-year-old niece led her to a chicken and its makeshift pen. The chicken, a silky white bird, went everywhere with Rolly since coming to the child as a birthday present. Aimee listened to Caroline ramble on about the colour and size of the egg it laid a few days ago, the most favourite bugs it liked to eat, and the colour of its poo after it ate too much corn.
Chuckling at the child’s observations, Aimee looked up in time to see Sally pull up along with the mess of women and film crew.
“Shit.”
“Aunty Mee!” Caroline admonished.
“Sorry.”
“Hello!” Caroline called out as she exited the chicken pen and ran off to where her mummy was offloading the containers of food from her ute.
Frowning as she closed the pen, and wondering who Rolly was talking to, Aimee came face to face with Justine. “Ugh. You.”
Curling her lip at being caught with her slip up, she brushed past Justine after securing the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I rode ahead and was told to follow the road to this hut, and then Heidi informed me you were over here with your niece and a spoiled chicken.”
“Who the hell is Heidi?” Aimee asked, furrowing her brow as Justine fell in step beside her on the way to where the horses were tethered.
“Umm…Heidi? The woman I presume looks after your sister’s kids.”
Aimee stopped, forcing Justine to do the same. “Wait. You mean Miss Gerhardt?”
“Yes. Heidi Gerhardt.” Justine cocked her head and looked at her strangely.
“Her first name is Heidi?”
“Umm…yes?”
“Huh.” Aimee let that soak in for a moment before continuing to the horses.
“You didn’t know?” Justine stared at Aimee gathering in Kite’s reins. “Seriously? How is it you don’t know that?”
That’s none of your business.” Leaving Justine no room to interrogate further, Aimee mounted her horse and clicked her tongue to get Kite moving.
***
Sally watched her sister ride off and huffed. She was skinny enough without skipping lunch. Cutting a glance to Justine, she wondered what had transpired between the two for Aimee to have left. Picking up a tray of sandwiches, she walked over to the woman staring at the paddocks.
“Lunch?”
“Oh!” Justine swung around with her hand on her chest.
“Sorry.”
“No. It’s okay. I was a million miles away.” She looked at the tray. “Oh. Thanks.” Taking a sandwich, she took a bite.
“Is she bothering you?” Sally asked.
“Who? Aimee?” Justine shook her head. “No. She’s unpleasant, but nothing I can’t handle.”
Sally nodded. “She’s usually really easy to get along with, but for whatever reason, this has got under her skin.” Sally gestured to the film crew swarming around the girls and Joey as they ate lunch. She doubted anyone needed to televise someone eating an egg salad sandwich.