by Camryn Eyde
“I apologised, remember?” Justine said, sitting down on the stone.
Aimee turned a confused look on her. “What?”
“You’ve barely said boo since our spat this morning, and you haven’t insulted me for at least two hours now.”
“Sorry, I’ll try and pick up my game.”
Justine glanced over at Robbie before she reached out and took Aimee’s hand. “Are you okay?”
Aimee looked at their joined hands. When had they reached a level of comfort for Justine to initiate this kind of contact? Unwilling to question it, she left her hand still. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m okay.”
“So no hard feelings about this morning?”
“None. It’s just…I’m not used to company here, that’s all.”
“This place is special to you?”
Aimee nodded. The place was etched on her psyche in more ways than one. “Dad loved it here. Said the way this place still stands is a testament to how strong and resilient our blood and connection is with this property. Yarrabee Station was founded by my great-great-great grandfather. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”
Justine squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry for inviting myself along today.”
“It’s fine.” Aimee looked across at Justine and smiled. “I’m sorry about last night,” Aimee said in reaction.
“Sorry?”
“For being so…bratty?”
Justine chuckled. “Somehow, I doubt you can help it.” Justine looked over at the graveyard. “Though, I think I’m beginning to understand why. You’re protective.”
“Protective?”
Justine bounced her head in the affirmative. “The girls have come here with no experience, and we’re trying to throw them in the deep end of station life without any sort of training. It puts people and your livelihood at risk.”
Aimee’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t expect Justine to get it.
Justine smiled at her stunned expression. “I see it every weekend.”
“Every weekend?”
“I train horses and riders, and travel around to equestrian events in my spare time. I see parents try to force their children to perform in arenas beyond their capabilities and it not only puts their kids at risk but the horses as well.”
Aimee nodded in agreement, now having the insight of why this woman was so accomplished in the saddle.
“Anyway,” Justine said with a shrug. “I’m thinking that’s how you feel about what we’re trying to accomplish with the women your brother selected.”
“Exactly.”
“However…”
Aimee rolled her eyes, earning an elbow to the ribs.
“However, I need to do my job, which means exposing these women to the reality of a farmer’s life.”
“Entertainment isn’t a good enough reason to risk the livestock or the lives of the desperate women.”
“They’re not desperate.”
“They couldn’t get any more desperate if they tried.”
“You have to be the most prejudice, one-eyed person I’ve ever met. What happened to the good ol’ Aussie saying of a fair go?”
“That only applies to people who earn it, not women coming out here, looking at the property through eyes with dollar signs stamped on them. They laze about the pool thinking how wonderful the life is when they have no bloody idea.”
“Which is my point exactly. They need to be exposed to the work done out here.”
“Fine, then have them go strain fences and change the oil on the vehicles, just keep them away from the livestock.”
“It’s a sheep farm—”
“Station, actually.”
“—and…do you mind?”
“Not particularly.”
“Figures.” Justine put her hands on her hips and took a breath. “The point is, sheep are the major resource on your station, and that’s how this segment will be marketed. Sure, cover the girls in oil, but I figure since you’re shearing today, then nobody will be doing anything else. Am I right?”
“No, actually. Miss Gerhardt will be doing lessons with the kids and I’m doing a water run and—”
“Save it. We’re shooting in the sheds today. End of story.”
“Fine. Take your pictures, but if anyone gets hurt, then I hope you have your affairs in order.”
Justine shook her head. “Big talk for a little farm girl.”
“Little?” Aimee pressed herself into Justine’s personal space and looked down at her from her three-inch advantage in height.”
“Figuratively speaking. You act like a toddler half the time. Seriously, what’s with the constant attitude?”
“I don’t like people trying to fit in when they clearly don’t. It gets people hurt.”
“Hurt?”
“They take stupid risks and innocents get in the way.” Aimee let her eyes shift to the graveyard over Justine’s shoulder.
Justine frowned and followed her line of sight to see Robbie with an armful of wildflowers on his way down from the hill. As Aimee tried to move past her, Justine held her back. “I promise you, I’m not going to let anyone take unnecessary risks.”
Aimee sighed.
“Besides, I’m sure you won’t let me. Am I right?”
Aimee looked at the woman with the raised eyebrows and couldn’t help but concede with a smile. “Maybe.”
“Like you could help yourself.”
Aimee crossed her arms and scowled playfully down at Justine. “I still don’t like you.”
Justine burst into laughter. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that,” she said, leaning up on tip toes and kissing Aimee on the cheek before moving over to Robbie who was now in the graveyard.
Aimee narrowed her eyes at the amused woman’s back and shivered at the joy that coursed through her at the sound of Justine’s laugh. The woman had an uncanny ability to stir emotions in her she thought were dormant or non-existent. Sighing, she went to pay her respects to the graves, uncertain whether Justine was going to be the ruin of her.
***
Robbie disappeared the moment they reached the stables when Aimee offered to brush down his horse for him. Justine tended to her own steed without complaint and had moved over to assist Aimee when she was done. Brushing River’s flank, Aimee accidentally bumped against Justine, feeling a blush from head to toe as her arm recognised the feel of the other woman’s breast.
Leaving River’s stall and feeding each horse a sugar cube as a treat, they were side-by-side next to Kite when they both turned to each other after a minute of silent contemplation. Aimee had still yet to determine where Justine fit because no one lusted like this after a friend or an enemy. Having no experience on how to navigate the torrent of emotions she couldn’t name, Aimee decided to look at it from a risk assessment point of view. Risk humiliating herself and acting on her lust, or risk mental impairment she was bound to suffer for not acting on her need to kiss this woman again.
The sound of a grinder starting up in the nearby machinery shed took Aimee’s attention away from Justine’s lips. When did she start staring at them, and how long was she doing it? Aimee cleared her throat. “Umm…so…shall we go get the desperados on the road?” She gave Justine a smile and a wink.
Justine rolled her eyes. “They’re not desperados.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Aimee smiled and walked across the quadrangle to the house. The quiet house. It was eight in the morning and none of Joey’s girls were awake. Terrific.
***
A couple of hours later and the morning was beginning to wane, just like Aimee’s patience. Driving the contestants to the shearing sheds after returning from the ruins should have been easy, but trying to corral three women used to sleeping in and having a lazy coffee just to wake up was infuriating. Justine had to step in more than once and politely request the women hurry up.
The drive to the sheds was brief thanks to Gav’s work on the road, and relinquishing control of the women to Joey’s care should have been a sm
ooth transition. Instead, Aimee was forced to show them in turn how to catch a sheep, while inside the sheds, Joey was apparently giving another girl shearing lessons.
“No! Listen. Just walk up to the damn thing, hug it, and drag it backwards.”
Tiffany looked on horrified as Brittney took hesitant steps towards the flock cowering in the corner. This was attempt number seven and the sheep were spooked.
“Okay, now quickly grab it,” Aimee said when she was close enough to touch one. Brittany dove forward as if she was rugby-tackling the poor animal, and grabbed hold of its back half. The scared animal baaed and kicked its legs, dislodging Brittney with a solid thump to her breasts and ran off, leaving her with nowhere to go but face-first into a pile of fresh droppings. Aimee grimaced. “Umm…no. Not like that.”
Brittney picked herself up slowly, wiped some droppings off her face and started to scream.
“What the bloody hell is going on out here?” Joey said, rushing from the shed, followed by a cameraman. He found Aimee biting her tongue, Tiffany crying, and the cameraman on duty outside the sheds doubled over with laughter. “Aimee?”
“Forget this, Joe. They don’t get it.”
“I’m not doing that!” Tiffany yelled at Joey.
Joey assessed Brittany’s condition and said, “You don’t have to.”
Tiffany looked appeased and calmed herself down.
“Why don’t you head inside and help Amber layout wool?”
Tiffany nodded and walked inside as Brittney raced out of the sheep yard dropping dirt and droppings as she went. She made a path between Aimee and Joey and screamed, “You’re all insane!”
Joey and Aimee watched her storm away and then back to each other.
“One down, two to go, Romeo,” Aimee said.
Joey groaned. “Not now, Aimee.”
“Everything okay out here?” Justine asked as she joined them. “Where’s Brittney?”
“She’s wiping crap off her face…literally.” Aimee chuckled to herself.
“Aimee,” Joey said, giving her a shake of his head.
“What? She is. And you know what, they all will at some point. Want to know why? Because they don’t fit in out here. Can’t you see that?”
“Aimee, give it a rest, or I swear to God…”
“Swear as much as you like, Joe, but you know as well as I that this is a bloody circus that’s done nothing but distract you for months.” Aimee held up her hand and started listing off issues. “None of the firebreaks have been graded since last season. I checked with Gav yesterday, and the fuel hasn’t been ordered. Apparently he’s also waiting on you to approve an invoice for some fencing wire, a new clutch for the old Cruiser, and so I just found out, the bloody disc planter hasn’t been booked for the sorghum. I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy hand-seeding a couple of hectares.”
Joey clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. “You are more than capable of arranging all of that yourself.”
“Yes, I am, however, I didn’t know it needed to be done. We all have our jobs, Joey, and that is one of yours. The responsible thing to have done is to own up to is and ask me or Danny to take care of it, but clearly, this bloody production takes precedence over everything else.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Don’t bother, it’s already done.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!” Aimee glared at him for a moment longer before turning to Justine. “You want to see the old shearing shed?”
Justine snapped back to life after being riveted by Joey and Aimee’s argument. “Give me five minutes?”
When Justine raced off, Joey said, “So…umm…how’d it go this morning?”
“Like you care,” Aimee spat before storming off to her car. She yanked the car door open and slammed it shut. Gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, she tried to stop the burn in her throat and the fluid building in her eyes. “Damn you, Joey,” she muttered.
“Ready,” Justine said, climbing in. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I can tell.” Justine gestured to Aimee’s face.
Aimee swatted at the rogue tears on her cheeks. “He’s being irresponsible.”
“I gathered.”
Still annoyed and with a need to vent, Aimee said, “He’s so caught up in this bullshit that he’s forgetting the important stuff. The generators need diesel, but there’s only enough there for another week or two. The sorghum is supposed to be planted next month, but the bloody disc planter isn’t available until December. December! It’ll be too hot by then and the crop won’t yield as well. We had planned to build a new paddock after the lambs were born, but none of the equipment has been ordered, and we’re behind on payments to the bank.” Aimee leaned forward and rested her forehead on the steering wheel.
Justine reached over and ran a hand back and forth on Aimee’s shoulder.
Frowning to herself as her heart rate slowed, Aimee noticed the lack of questions or placating words coming from Justine. The simple act of her touch allowed Aimee to take a deep breath or two and calm down without having to explain her feelings. The counsellors were all about talking it out. Sally and Joey had been the same and had probably been prompted to do so on professional advice. Ever since she was a child, when she was upset or quiet, they’d interrogate her or offer the solution. What’s wrong? How do you feel? Can you explain why you're upset? Maybe you need more sleep. Maybe you need fresh air. Maybe we should call the doctor. All Aimee ever wanted was to be left alone to sort through it herself, and over time, Sally and Joey had finally understood that. What had taken her siblings years to understand, Justine had managed to figure out in a day or two. The comfort Justine’s touch provided was overshadowed by the confusion it created. How can one person be so calming?
Straightening up and keeping her head low, Aimee took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she said quietly a few moments later.
Justine, who was yet to move her hand, gave Aimee’s shoulder a squeeze in response. “So…where are these old shearing sheds?”
Chapter Eight
Making a clicking sound in her cheek, Aimee urged Kite up the gentle hill. The gradient wasn’t steep, but she had challenged Justine to a race after the woman suggested they ride. A suggestion she gladly agreed to. Mitsy beat them both. From the old shearing shed site, there was a good view of most of the homestead yards. Hopping off Kite and letting the mare follow her nose to a patch of grass Aimee considered the scene below her. Beside the stables were the horse yards, and from where she stood, she could see Mike fighting with the stallion. She grimaced. That wasn’t a good sign. Joey was going to be furious if none of the other mares were mounted. Not that he had room to argue. Next to the stables was the water tank and the machinery shed, and on the other side was the homestead. Her eyes followed the line of green that ran past the yards and into the distance toward Roper Creek.
“It’s so lush,” Justine said as she joined Aimee, bringing with her the light, fragrant scent Aimee was starting to dream about.
Clearing her throat, Aimee said, “Enjoy it while it lasts. That’s usually a lot drier by now. We had good rains this winter. Lots of feed out in the paddocks.”
Justine nodded and turned on the spot to survey the old shearing shed. “Is this thing safe?”
“It’s been standing for nearly a hundred years, so in my opinion, no.” Aimee grinned. “Didn’t stop me from playing here as a kid though. Come inside, I’ll show you.”
The floors creaked as they walked into the dusty wreck of the shed’s shell. Sunlight pierced past the holes in the tin roof through the dusty interior to the floor. Old sorting tables lay in various states of disrepair and old hand clippers hung on a couple of walls. The wooden slats making up the walls of the building were letting in the light breeze from outside thanks to missing or shrinking boards.
“It’s…dusty.”
“It’s a wreck.”
“Then why—”
Aim
ee took Justine’s hand and tugged her to the ramp where sheep were once herded to reach the shearers. “That’s why,” she said when they walked out to the area hidden by the building earlier. In soil fertilised by layers of sheep dung, several low native trees grew against the building and in a circle around the old holding yard. In the middle was a shaded patch of grass kept short by the lone resident…a goat. “That’s Billy.”
Justine raised an eyebrow. “Inventive name.”
Smiling at the amused woman, Aimee said, “He’s a miniature goat that we use as a lawnmower. He’s on picnic spot duty this week.”
“And from that, I assume this is the picnic spot?”
“Yep. It’s shady, it’s grassy, and you get to see that.” Aimee once again initiated contact and drew Justine to the middle of the grassy patch. Walking behind Justine and putting a hand on each shoulder, she lowered her head to Justine’s and pointed through the trees. “When the sun sets, that lights up.” The view on the other side was of rolling hills with the distant ranges keeping guard on the horizon.
“Like the cattle yard,” Justine said, turning her head slightly.
“No. Better,” Aimee whispered back. Their cheeks were side-by-side and with a slight movement, Justine’s lips could have been hers to claim. For a moment, she considered doing just that, but she was still feeling self-conscious about her mini-meltdown in the car. That, and Mitsy chose that moment to charge across the grassy area barking at her arch enemies, the miner birds that had begun dive-bombing her the moment she showed her brown and white nose.
Backing away, Justine turned and smiled up at Aimee and Aimee couldn’t help but feel the pleased buzz in her stomach for impressing the woman, and nor could she stop the blush crawling up her neck as she recognised her feelings as more than just lust. She was intrigued, entranced, and undeniably infatuated. Aimee quickly looked away. I’m Aimee, big bad station chick, I don’t do crushes, she reminded herself. “Got all you need?” she asked as she walked around the building to find Kite.
“Almost,” Aimee heard Justine whisper to herself.
Aimee stumbled. “Umm…so…you want to ride a little?” She turned around to see Justine shaking her head. “Okay. Back to the house then. I bet you have umm…work stuff to do?”