Page 7 of Rough Stock

No, it hadn’t. And he’d done his best to avoid the place ever since she left for Sydney just over three years ago.

To be fair, he did tell her to go, though.

And he’d barely survived.

But with her high-powered job on the other side of the country, there was no way she’d stay long. So why bother being nice. ‘I don’t need you here.’

‘I’m here now, so deal with it.’

Five

A shockingly bright yellow Kombi van putted down the lumpy dirt driveway, stirring up a lazy plume of red dust, as country rock music blared from its open windows as if a party were happening inside.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Izzy dropped the cloth she was using into the bucket. She’d been cleaning the kitchen, which was fairly easy, as the cupboards and pantry were empty. Clearly showing how little time Craig spent in this house. ‘Who is that?’

‘You’ll see…’ Craig leaned against the verandah’s pole to avoid using his crutches. Even unwell, his bright blue eyes highlighted his deep tan, that went with that charming grin. A grin that once accompanied heavy eyes that used to have the ability to touch her without the use of his hands.

She swallowed hard. She just wished he’d stop grinning. Or watching her. Or scowling at her.

‘Is she here?’ The visitor yelled as she jumped out of the Kombi van, slamming the driver’s door behind her. From where Izzy was, she couldn’t see the woman’s face.

‘Who? You know you look like a wild child riding that rocket donkey you call a van.’ Craig’s voice was full of humour—for once.

‘Oh, please, when you’re the one who’s still suffering from his last ride on the rough stock, playing the part of a middle-aged hobbling goblin.’ The woman laughed.

Of course, Craig, the flirt, grinned back. ‘How is my favourite redhead?’ He copped a hug from the woman. Even as he winced at the pain, Craig never let on that he was hurting—yet Izzy saw through his guise.

‘Brilliant, as always.’ The redhead turned around to face Izzy. ‘And there she is, the star of this outback show.’

‘Bree.’ Instantly recognising her, Izzy rushed to greet her old friend.

‘Busy Izzy.’ Bree bundled her up in a big bear hug, where they laughed, squeezing each other as long-lost friends. ‘It’s so good to see you again, in the flesh.’ Bree winked, with that same bright smile, shiny green eyes, and red hair in a thick plait she tossed over her shoulder like some tree python. Even though Izzy hadn’t seen Bree since she moved to Sydney, they had kept in touch—especially when Bree needed an ironclad caveat to protect her grandfather’s interests. She’d turned to Izzy for help.

‘What brings you here?’

‘I come bearing goodies like it’s an orphan’s Christmas. You stay there, Craig, us girls don’t need you getting in the way. Come on.’ Bree hooked her arm through Izzy’s and led her back to the van. ‘What have you been doing? Cleaning?’

‘I’ve started cleaning up the place to sell it.’ Even if it was a big job, but with little furniture to get in the way, she’d knock it over in no time.

‘Something needs to happen to this place. Remind me, what did you and Craig name it? There’s no sign out front.’

‘Dustfire Holdings.’ They’d renamed it Dustfire when they became the official owners. Fifteen hundred acres of pristine farming land, a three-bedroom house with an office, sheds, stables, drafting yards, and various sized paddocks. It was still a pretty place, even if it seemed tired, neglected and unloved.

‘It’s a good name. You need a sign—which means you’re in luck, as I happen to know this beautiful blacksmith who’ll make you one.’ Bree grinned widely, again flicking her thick plait over her shoulder. ‘It’ll make a good house-warming gift.’

‘We’re cleaning the place up to sell.’

Bree peered back at the house, then over to the assorted sheds. ‘If I wasn’t sweet-talked into staying on at Elsie Creek Station, I would’ve made an offer on this place myself. It’s got some great stockyards and plenty of paddock space for my stockhorses, and a shed big enough to become my workshop. But I’m where fate wants me to be.’

‘I’m so sorry about Charlie. He was an amazing stockman and a total charmer.’

‘Thank you.’ Bree gave Izzy’s arm a tender squeeze. ‘My grandfather had a heart condition and had refused surgery, so it was his time. Believe me, Charlie lived every day like his last.’ She frowned back at the house. ‘I’m just sorry for not reading the signs.’

‘What signs?’ Izzy followed Bree’s line of sight to realise she was talking about Craig who was waiting for them on the verandah.

‘Did you know Craig rode that bull for Charlie?’

‘Oh, wait…’ Craig had mentioned it. ‘Now I get it.’ Kicking herself for not seeing it sooner. ‘Craig’s in mourning.’

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