Page 28 of Rough Stock

‘Lydia runs the Elsie Creek Train Station’s Stockyards. She’s responsible for every beast that comes through this yard, where they get sold, bought or bartered, and then shipped to various destinations.’

‘I’m just a clerk, luv. Nothing that fancy.’ Lydia gave Craig his cup of coffee, then straightened her long-sleeved shirt, the same as those worn by most of the cattlemen in town, including the same jeans and boots, just like Craig.

Izzy felt the odd person out, in her tailored trousers and suspenders, but all she had in her suitcase were her work clothes. Otherwise, she wouldn’t need to borrow Craig’s shorts and shirts to work on their farm. House. Place. No, she couldn’t call ithome, even if that word rolled like warm honey within her chest.

‘Are you sure I can’t offer you anything, luv?’

‘I’m good, thank you. We had an early morning tea with Ginny.’ Izzy had adored Ginny, who gave them a stack of eggs, a stash of scrumptiously scented mango oat bars for Wraith, along with some homemade sausage rolls that filled the ute with a heavenly aroma. There were pastry crumbs everywhere as Craig pigged out in the front seat while she drove them back into town as they discussed the many theories on how to steal prized rough stock—especially a bull like Wraith.

‘I heard they pinched Wraith and another eight beasts. Poor Ginny must be going out of her mind.’ Lydia gave a deep sigh as she sank slowly into her chair behind her desk, cradling her coffee cup in two hands. ‘Poor thing doesn’t need that. Not when she’s just finished paying off Frank’s medical bills. Did you see Frank? I heard he’s finally home from doing chemo.’

‘Frank looks good,’ said Craig. ‘He’s got colour back in his face now. I reckon it won’t take him long and he’ll get some muscle tone back.’

Hmm, if this was Izzy’s case, she’d want to investigate Ginny’s personal finances, just to tick off that box to prove that Ginny didn’t secretly sell her own stock to cash in on the insurance.

But that’d be silly, because Izzy had seen the list of rodeos Ginny was calling to cancel. Ginny was also losing money for not having Wraith around, as the rodeo bull that everyone wanted to see. Wraith was so good, he had his own fanbase that included riders who wanted to beat the bull and the clock.

‘So how long before you recover?’ Lydia nodded at Craig’s crutch leaning against her desk.

‘Four weeks,’ butted in Izzy.

‘Two,’ he snapped back. ‘Hey, Lydia? Have you met Finn Wilde yet?’

Lydia tapped on her chin, while staring at the ceiling. ‘Wild with an e?’

Craig nodded.

‘Now why do I know that surname? Is he a stockman?’

‘Was. You’d recognise the Wilde name because he’s Bree’s ex-husband.’

‘Of course.’ Lydia gave an all-knowing nod. ‘I’ve never met the fella, but I’ve seen him around. Rides that loud bike. He’d have more tattoos on his arms than the new fire chief, I reckon. But he’s got all the girls in the supermarket yakking about him, too. It’s not every day, luv, that we get a tall, dark and handsome stranger in town. That Finn has caused just as much buzz around town as you have, Izzy.’

‘I did what?’ She sat taller, her mind immediately wary of her condition and how people reacted.

‘Didn’t you know, luv, the whole town was in a spin when they learned that Cowboy Craig had a wife. You know you married a cheater, a—’

‘We’re separated. And we’re friends.’ Why was she constantly being reminded about this? But she truly appreciated how straightforward both Ginny and Lydia were in informing Izzy of her husband’s lifestyle with the ladies. It shouldn’t matter to her, because Craig was a single man who could see whoever he wanted. Just not with her.

‘Izzy and I are like Bree is with Finn—friends,’ said Craig.

‘Oh, I see.’ Lydia grinned behind her coffee cup. ‘Is that because your lawyer-lady is way too good for you? You married up, son, didn’t you?’

Izzy giggled. Lately, it was happening so easily. She’d never had so much fun interviewing people for a case—which wasn’t her case at all, or job, or whatever this was—because visiting these places and people felt more like a social outing, that involved food and drinks, gossip and gifts when you left.

Craig cleared his throat. ‘Finn’s starting up a local stock squad.’

‘Good. We need one. I hate people pinching livestock. It’s just not right.’ Lydia took another sip of her coffee. ‘You know, luv, you’d be good at that job, with your skills and vast experiences as a stockman. But even more now, with that leg injury, and at your age, it’ll bother you on musters.’

‘Charlie was still mustering at eighty-two.’ Craig frowned, taking a deep gulp from his coffee.

Poor Craig. Charlie had been not only like a father to Craig, but he’d also taught Craig to rodeo and muster. A passion both men shared. To lose all three so close together had to hurt.

But Craig was a great stock inspector. It was just that he hated the paperwork and the politics that came with the job. Maybe this stock squad would be good for him, especially with her pushing to sell their farm, as Craig needed to do something that was safe.

‘Finn offered Craig the job,’ Izzy blurted out. ‘Not sure on the job description, as you have a lot that needs to be negotiated, honey.’ Things like safety, wages, vehicle usage, insurance. Did he get a uniform? A badge? What were his powers of arrest? Could he carry a gun? Was he like a policeman?

Craig plonked his hand on her thigh, instantly snapping her out of her spiral of questions. Enough to pack it away for a few moments. But they were questions that needed to be asked.

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