Taming The Brooding Cattleman

by Marion Lennox

  He hardly saw the moment she signalled to Rocky he could have his head, he could gallop as he’d been aching to gallop, but suddenly they were flying, girl and horse, and he didn’t know which looked more wonderful.

  Or maybe he did, but he wasn’t going there.

  They were nearing the eastern fence. Slow, he told her under his breath. Slow...

  She didn’t. Instead he saw her foot just touch Rocky’s flank to guide him into the curve.

  In most horses this signal was to curve, but to Rocky...

  He didn’t curve. He simply turned.

  One moment Alex was as one with her horse. The next she was lying on the soft green pasture, staring up at the sky.

  He’d warned her. He shouldn’t have let her. He shouldn’t...

  He was with her in seconds, feeling ill. He’d known. If she was hurt...

  She was lying flat on her back, looking straight up. She looked awed and stunned. He slid from his horse and stooped—and she started to laugh.

  Her laugh rang out over the valley, a low, gorgeous chuckle that turned his insides to water.

  ‘Oh, my, you warned me,’ she breathed. ‘How stupid was that? Isn’t he marvellous?’ She held out a hand for him to pull her up, and she was still laughing.

  He took her hand and tugged, feeling poleaxed. She came up fast, and she was right in front of him, her body touching his, her hand in his.

  She looked up at him, and something caught within him, something he’d never felt. She was beautiful, pure and simple.

  She was...

  No. This wasn’t just beauty. This was...

  Danger. Step away.

  But his hand still had hers and he couldn’t let go.

  ‘I’m guessing rein signal only for turns,’ she said. ‘Heels means stock work?’

  ‘You got it.’ He was having trouble getting his voice to work.

  ‘Teach me.’

  ‘Rocky will teach you.’

  ‘His methods are painful.’ She pulled back a little way then, but he saw something in her face, some acknowledgement that she was feeling the same sensations coursing through him. This tug...

  He released her hand and it felt like a loss.

  She glanced up at him, and then consciously turned away, watching Rocky rejoin his mates. She could have been hurt, he thought, but she was a horsewoman. The ground was soft after the rain. She knew how to fall.

  ‘I need to double-check that contract,’ she said. ‘Am I still covered for worker’s insurance if I bust my butt on a Sunday?’

  The tension eased. He grinned, and he thought, She’s wonderful.

  Do not go there.

  To go down the path of caring...

  What was he thinking? He wasn’t thinking. It was a momentary aberration, a second’s weakness and nothing more.

  He swung himself up into the saddle and saw uncertainty, doubt, cross her face. Good. Only it shouldn’t be uncertainty. It should be sureness that there would be no connection.

  He was not interested in connection.

  ‘I’ll have to catch him all over again,’ he said, more roughly than intended.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, but he wasn’t listening. He was turning to fetch her horse. He was moving on.

  * * *

  Oliver was sitting on the front step when they reached Brenda’s. His bleached red hair was a bit too long, a bit too curly. His clothes were too small and his bare feet were filthy. His eyes lit up as he saw them, his beam almost splitting his freckled face, and Jack felt a surge of guilt.

  Which was exactly what he didn’t want to feel. He’d had enough guilt to last a lifetime. Sort this problem and move on.

  ‘Is Brenda home?’ he asked, and Alex shot him a look of surprise. Fair enough. It had been a curt question. Too curt.

  ‘You want to hop up on Jack’s horse while Jack talks to Brenda?’ Alex asked, tossing him a look that might be interpreted as defiance. ‘But only if you let me hold the reins.’

  There was no hesitation. Oliver was down from the veranda before Jack was out of the saddle. Jack looked into his desperate little face, winced and lifted him high.

  The kid swung into the saddle and beamed and beamed. ‘I love Maestro,’ he said simply.

  How did the kid know Jack’s horse?

  ‘You’re letting her ride Rocky?’ Oliver demanded of him, and he could just as well have said: ‘You’re letting a girl ride a man’s horse?’

  ‘We’ve stuck some glue on her saddle,’ Jack said, deciding it was impossible to be grumpy in the face of such pleasure. ‘Do we need some on your saddle, too?’

  ‘No,’ Oliver said, mortally offended. ‘I know how to ride. Don’t I, Brenda?’

  Jack turned and Brenda had emerged from the house. She was holding a toddler in her arms and a little girl clutched her leg.

  She was wearing tattered jeans and a stained T-shirt. Her hair was long, in need of a wash. She looked almost emaciated. What the...

  ‘I told Oliver not to go near your place,’ she said in a dead voice. ‘But thanks for the food. Oliver, get off.’

  Something was seriously wrong.

  He should have come here before this, he thought. He should have checked. Giving her a house rent free obviously wasn’t enough. There was more going on.

  And then, cutting into his thoughts came awareness of a car sliding into the clearing behind them. A large, black expensive saloon with tinted windows.

  The horses startled back. He moved to check Maestro, but Alex had both horses firm and safe.

  All the colour had washed from Oliver’s face. Jack turned back to Brenda and found she looked the same.

  Two guys emerged from the car. Cliché thugs, he thought. Like something out of the movies.

  They should be wearing black suits and black ties and sunglasses. Instead they were in casual gear, jeans and T-shirts, but their clothes didn’t disguise what they were. They looked like nightclub bouncers. Heavy, tattooed and menacing.

  The driver looked from him to Alex. ‘We’re here on business,’ he said almost pleasantly. ‘You want to take the little lady for a ride while we talk to Brenda?’ He smiled at the horses. ‘Nice gee gees. Worth a quid, are they?’

  ‘Two and six at the knackery,’ Jack said, pseudo-pleasant, back. ‘Brenda, would you like us to stay?’

  ‘I...’ Brenda looked from the men to Jack and back again, and her fear was obvious.

  ‘We’re staying,’ Alex said. ‘Brenda wants us here.’

  ‘You going to sell a horse to help pay her debts?’ The momentary niceness was slipping.

  ‘What debts?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Brenda’s hubby borrowed a whole lot of money,’ the guy said, leaning back on the car and folding his arms. ‘From my boss. My boss has been patient but the drips Brenda’s been feeding us aren’t enough. My boss loses money, he gets annoyed.’

  ‘Brian stole money from me, too,’ Jack said.

  ‘Join the queue, then,’ the guy said evenly. ‘She pays us first.’

  ‘Blood out of stone.’ Jack’s voice was carefully neutral. Impassive. Blunt. ‘You think I’d have left anything if there was anything worth having? The bank’s been in this week, declaring her bankrupt. They’ve gone through her assets like a dose of salts and now they’ve even put a garnish on her pension. She gets food for the kids at the local store and that’s it. Every other service goes through the bank. Look at her... She’s at rock bottom. No one’s ever getting money here. Meanwhile Brian’s sitting pretty on the Gold Coast. I can give you his address if you want.’

  ‘Yeah?’ The guy stared at Jack, alert. ‘We can’t find him.’

  ‘His girlfriend’s mother came whining to me last week,’ Jack told him, watching Brenda, not h
im. ‘The mum’s just discovered her retirement savings have disappeared and there’s not a lot of motherly love left. She thought a nice forwarding address might be useful to me. If you guys are interested...’

  ‘We’re interested,’ the guy said.

  ‘Excellent,’ Jack said. He motioned to Brenda. ‘I’m starting to feel sorry for her. Three kids... She’s starving. I give you the address, you leave her be. Deal?’

  ‘I dunno...’

  ‘I’m not exactly without threats myself,’ Jack said, and suddenly he wasn’t Jack any more. He was, Alex thought, a guy who’d been raised as tough as these guys. ‘I’ve half a dozen men employed on my place who know how to handle themselves.’

  Whoa. He sounded mean and he looked mean. This was a don’t-mess-with-me voice and the guys responded.

  ‘No need to get your knickers in a twist, mate,’ the guy said, suddenly placating. ‘It seems reasonable. Though if it’s a false address...’

  ‘No promises but he was there last week.’

  ‘Then we’d better get moving,’ the guy said, and laboriously wrote the address on the back of his hand and signalled to his henchman to take off.

  Leaving Brenda and Oliver and Alex, all staring at Jack.

  ‘I hope you didn’t want to protect the...’ Jack started, and then looked at Oliver. ‘The other party in the negotiations,’ he corrected himself, and Brenda gave a sob that was simply heart-rending.

  And Alex was off the horse in an instant, shoving the reins into Jack’s hands, flying up the veranda steps and gathering the woman into her arms.

  * * *

  What was it with women? How did they do this?

  Alex had never met Brenda in her life, and here she was hugging her. It made him feel...

  He wasn’t sure how it made him feel.

  Yes, he did. It made him feel like an outsider, looking in.

  That was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

  ‘Is Brenda crying because you made them go away?’ Oliver asked, puzzled. ‘She doesn’t like them.’

  ‘Have they been here often?’

  ‘Every pension day,’ he said. ‘Only last pension the grocer said if we didn’t give it all to him that was the last food we were getting and the men were really angry. They said they’d come back today. Only you made them go away.’ He was high on Maestro, gazing down at him, and Jack could see hero worship, clear as day.

  Uh-oh. He did not want this. A bereft kid who lived next door, who loved horses...

  It was bad enough having Alex for six months. She’d been here for one day and already he could feel the outside world sucking him in.

  Caring?

  On the veranda Brenda was recovering. She turned to face him, within the safety of Alex’s arms. Alex was holding her like a mother hen hovers over a chick.

  This was not Alex’s business. Had no one told her?

  ‘You lied,’ Brenda managed. ‘You’ve never taken a cent from me. And you don’t have half a dozen men on your farm.’

  ‘If I’d come across as your defender, they would have been back. It seemed the best way.’

  ‘But Brian’s address?’

  ‘That much is true. His girlfriend’s mother was robbed, too, and she’s vitriolic. She hoped I might do something with it. Today, seeing how he’s left you, the least I could do was pass his address on to someone who cares.’

  She gasped. ‘Do you know how much he owes?’ she demanded. ‘And Brian’s been living like royals.’

  ‘I guess even royals have to face reality sometime,’ he said. He glanced at Alex, who was watching him with a faint smile. She approved, he thought. She’d made him care? Yep, she’d sucked him right in, and she was pleased with herself.

  ‘You guys need to go shopping,’ she said happily. ‘What if Jack and I take you tomorrow?’

  Whoa.

  He froze—and Brenda saw his expression and responded accordingly.

  ‘I don’t have money for shopping, and even if I did, I wouldn’t trouble you further. You’ve done enough for us.’

  ‘When’s next pension day?’ Alex demanded.

  ‘Thursday week, but—’

  ‘My family is wealthy,’ Alex said, and she glanced at Jack and her glance told him exactly what she thought of him. She’d seen his expression. His lousiness was noted and she was moving on. ‘It would be my real pleasure to take you shopping and buy you what you need to get you through to next pension day.’

  ‘I won’t take charity,’ Brenda said in a strangled voice, and Jack knew that was all about his expression. She assumed he’d looked like that because he thought he was put-upon. When, in fact...

  Yeah, okay, it was true; he did feel put-upon, but not financially.

  He did not want to be sucked in.

  ‘It’s not charity, it’s pleasure,’ Alex was saying, stubbornly, glaring at him. ‘And we don’t need Jack. But he’s my boss. If he’ll give me time off...?’

  It needed only that. He was the boss. She was asking permission to help someone he should have known was in trouble. She was asking permission to care for someone he should have cared for himself.

  We don’t need Jack.

  He was being let off the hook. That was what he wanted. Wasn’t it?

  He glanced at Oliver. The boy’s face was screwed in puzzlement as he tried to figure what was going on. He looked at Alex, who was carefully not looking at him.

  He could sense her anger.

  He’d protected Brenda from the debt collectors. He’d given her free rent.

  Alex’s expression said she’d expected more of him, and she was angry because he wasn’t giving.

  What right had she to be angry? No right at all.

  They were all waiting for him to respond. To tell Alex she could have time off to give Brenda the help he should offer himself.

  ‘No,’ he said, and it was as if someone else was speaking, not the Jack he knew. ‘Brenda has enough debts, she doesn’t want more.’

  ‘I’d never ask her to pay it back,’ Alex said hotly, but Jack silenced her with a look.

  ‘I’m offering Oliver a job,’ he said, and he looked directly at Brenda. He was blocking Alex out, even though every nerve in his body was tuned to the judgement he saw there. ‘One of my mare’s just had a foal by caesarean section,’ he told Brenda. ‘She can’t be allowed to run free, yet her foal needs freedom. Which means someone has to walk her gently for an hour at a time, for at least the next six weeks. Oliver, if you’ll do that for me, twice a day at weekends and once a day on school days, I’ll pay in advance by taking you all shopping tomorrow. I’ll buy decent clothes. I’ll cover your groceries until next pension day and I’ll cover your fuel bills here. Is there anything else you need, Brenda?’

  Brenda gasped—and so did Alex.

  And from Maestro’s back, Oliver’s eyes grew enormous.

  ‘I’m going to work to pay for our food?’ he gasped.

  ‘That’s the one,’ Jack said.

  ‘By walking Sancha?’

  ‘If you agree.’

  ‘Yes,’ Oliver said, so fast they all laughed.

  Or the two women laughed. Jack watched them laugh and wondered just what he was letting himself in for.

  Alex had been here for two days. Any longer...

  Any longer, he didn’t want to think about.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THEY returned to Werarra. Oliver arrived half an hour later, ready to take up his duties. Alex went with him to exercise the mare.

  Jack headed back down the paddock to fix fences.

  Sound carried a long way in the valley. He could hear them chatting like long-lost friends, and he thought, They’re two kids.

  Only they weren’t. Alex was every inch a wom
an.

  In years, he thought, but in truth she was still a child. She had no idea how much emotional entanglement hurt.

  It didn’t always. Other people had successful family lives.

  Other people were lucky. Other people gambled because they didn’t know the odds.

  Like Alex didn’t know the odds.

  He wouldn’t be the one to tell her.

  He worked until dusk. When he finally reached the house he found a brief note on the kitchen table.

  Jet lag. Head’s still somewhere over Hawaii. Had an egg on toast and gone to bed.

  He should have come up earlier, he thought, and then he thought no, this was good. This was back to normal.

  Maybe they should have separate meals.

  He ate alone. He always ate alone, but tonight it felt different.

  Bleak.

  He headed back out into the night to check the mares before he went to bed, and while he walked he thought he’d headed to this place for peace. He’d found it, but then along came one perky little vet from the U.S., pushing her nose into his business, messing with his equilibrium.

  You’ve never had equilibrium, he thought.

  It must be somewhere. He just had to find it.

  * * *

  Shopping with Brenda was fun—or it would be fun if Jack wasn’t with them.

  That wasn’t exactly true, Alex thought, for from the time he’d loaded Brenda and the kids into his SUV, he’d set himself to be pleasant. He and Alex sat in the front. Brenda and the kids sat in the back. ‘This feels like a family,’ Oliver had said in deep satisfaction as they set off, and she’d seen Jack’s mouth tighten and the mood for the day was set.

  They arrived at the Wombat Siding shopping centre, a small plaza providing services for the surrounding farming community. Jack said something about farm tools and disappeared.

  It was up to Alex to bully Brenda into trying clothes on the kids, steering her away from cheap and nasty, insisting she choose quality—and then Jack appeared at the end and settled the tab.

  He did the same in the supermarket. Alex was having fun in the unfamiliar Australian environment—‘What is this stuff called Vegemite?’ and ‘Do you really eat kangaroo?’—but she would have enjoyed herself more if Jack seemed more relaxed. It would have helped them all.