Page 4 of Rough Stock

‘I can’t believe you still drive this crusty old ute.’ Out front of the small bush hospital, Izzy tugged open the passenger door of the single-cab Holden ute. Its creak of protest echoed around the empty car park, with its view of the local police and fire stations that backed onto the town’s airstrip.

‘I can’t believe I’m letting you drive.’ Craig wrestled with his crutches, while wincing at his ribs. He brushed at his blond, wavy hair, adjusting his white cowboy hat so it shaded the bright blue eyes that highlighted his tan.

Craig had perfected the cowboy image, with his handsome looks and charm. But he was also gifted with a pair of strong, straight shoulders and a waist that trimmed down into a dusty pair of jeans that rolled over a set of strong thighs, and an astonishingly beautiful butt. Pity he didn’t have that sexy swagger she remembered, only an exaggerated limp caused by the crutches that hurt him to use.

‘Well, settle in my little passenger princess, and this time you can hold my laptop bag.’ Izzy had to put some muscle into slamming the heavy passenger door, its steel hinges creaking. The ute’s red paint was chipped and faded from a hard life under the outback sun. What happened to the pride and joy it once was? A simple ute that used to be so much fun for both of them, now looked worn out—kind of like their marriage.

She clumsily hoisted her suitcase, a few shopping bags, and Craig’s crutches into the ute’s cargo bed that already held thick chain, tools, his saddle and assorted ropes. She hadn’t done this much physical work in a long time, it felt good. Yet not so good for her work clothes.

She brushed the red dust off her black pinstripe trousers as she approached the driver’s door. ‘Do we need to get more food?’ Would Craig have enough supplies for them to hide out for the next few weeks?

‘There’s food, nothing fancy. Can we just go home?’ He scowled, holding her leather laptop bag on his lap that was probably hurting his ribs.

‘Here…’ Izzy dragged it off his lap, to use as a barrier between them as she sat behind the steering wheel. She could at least play nice if it’d help with the sale process.

As they shared the same leg length, she didn’t need to adjust the seat, but hoped the dusty floor mats didn’t ruin her shoes.

The engine roared to life, it was amazing how familiar it all felt—the stiff clutch, the tricky stick shift to get it into reverse, and the heavy steering. Unlike the rugged four-wheel drives usually seen this far north, Craig’s ute was built to race along outback roads while doubling as a reliable workhorse. The tailgate covered in stickers, from all the places he’d been, was a testament to the work the ute had done. Yet it looked worn out now, a shadow of the pride and joy that had once won countless ute musters.

‘Shall I see if Google Maps can find the place?’

‘Been that long, has it?’ Craig held his ribs while wearing that scowl. The painkillers mustn’t be that good, because Craig was hurting.

Izzy had expected a frosty reception, she just hadn’t expected the hatred he wore in his eyes and in his stance. The guy was positively bristling with scorn, aimed at her.

But until it was safe to go home, she’d have to play nice. ‘Music?’

‘Radio broke.’

‘Air conditioning?’

‘Wind down a window.’

‘Okay, then…’Oh goody, isn’t this drive going to be fun-fun-fun.Already, the horrendous heat billowed in waves as sweat trickled down the sides of her face, sliding down her back and making her shirt stick to her skin.

‘What’s the hold-up? Forget how to drive a manual?’

She rummaged through her bag. ‘I need a hair tie. If I’m driving with the windows down, I’m not letting my hair slap me in the face and turn into a messy beehive.’

She could feel Craig watching her every move, as she gathered her long hair away from her face, collecting the strands at the nape, then secured the ponytail with a simple elastic hair band.

Adjusting the rear-view mirror, she inspected the result. Only a few loose strands framed her face, but the heat was doing a great job of melting her make-up to give her panda eyes. Slipping on her sunglasses, she made a mental note to invest in waterproof mascara, especially if she was going to be stuck here for a bit.Welcome back to the Northern Territory—where every day was either hot or stinking hotter.

‘Can we go already? I don’t want to be here.’

Like Craig, she too wished she wasn’t here. But she only had one shot at solving the mother of all problems—because everything, including their lives, depended on it.

Four

‘Are you being judgey about the place?’ Craig scowled at Izzy dragging her fancy suitcase from the ute to the back verandah, only to pause at Dustfire’s rolling hills and open countryside that extended beyond the fence rails. The overall view from the house had always shown how pretty this place was.

It’s a pity—up close, the place was overrun with dust, weeds, and junk.

‘Do you really want me to answer that?’ Izzy peered over the rim of her fancy sunglasses, raising an eyebrow at the pile of empty beer boxes. ‘Still drinking the same beer brand, I see?’

‘So what if I do? What do you drink? No, wait, it’s probably some fancy triple-shot latte or something.’ The crutches sucked, every step wearing on his ribs. When the rubber base on one of his crutches wobbled on a stone, he almost fell.

From behind, Izzy grabbed his hips and steadied him. ‘I don’t do coffee. It keeps me up all night and my brain doesn’t need that. I’m weird enough as it is.’ She let him go.

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