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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MACK EYEBALLED THE big dude standing next to Bindi; hovering over her, really. Timmo had arrived yesterday, and Mack had taken an immediate dislike to him. Perhaps dislike was too strong a word. Perhaps it was more to do with that fact that Timmo was all alpha male, dominating a room with his presence. A muscle-bound brute who looked as dangerous as he was purported to be. Clean-shaven, dark hair slicked back, wearing a charcoal-gray suit, Timmo reminded him of a Greek crime boss. And perhaps it also had to do with how close Timmo was staying to Bindi, that was getting his green-eyed monster all worked up. Mack hadn’t been able to get a private word in since Timmo had turned up.
The guy was certainly professional, treating Bindi with the utmost respect and always maintaining a businesslike manner around her. The other thing Mack didn’t like was the weapon Timmo wore, concealed beneath his suit jacket. It gave him the jitters. He wondered what Bindi made of it? Did it make her feel safer, knowing an armed and dangerous man was around her at all times? Aaron had also taken to wearing his gun in a shoulder holster. Mack decided the weapon gave him more gravitas, a steely glint entering his eyes, and he wouldn’t have liked to come up against the man back when he’d been working as a full-time bodyguard. It was his job to guard the family, leaving Timmo to focus on Bindi; and to a lesser extent, Mack. But it seemed neither Nash nor Aaron was taking his suggestions that Clarissa could still be behind the first accident as seriously as they should. Certainly not now Mutt had come after Bindi.
Dale, Steve, and Aaron were taking a delivery of materials for the new cabin. A truck had turned up early this morning, laden with steel girders and stacks of lumber. It was going to be a tricky job getting that large truck maneuvered down the gravel road to where the new cabin was to be built, and he didn’t envy the other men in the slightest.
Julie and Sasha were getting cabins ready for the arrival of Daisy’s family from Perth tomorrow, as well as Julie’s mother and stepfather, along with a raft of Daniella’s other relatives. There was an ex-husband, and his two sons—who were actually Dale and Skylar’s half-brothers. Daniella had Alek sourcing items for some games she wanted set up for the wedding guests to play after dinner and the speeches—last minute, of course. Aaron was with Steve at the moment, but he also flitted between the scattered family, trying to keep them all safe and accounted for, another task Mack didn’t envy.
Which left him and Bindi to take Dean and Naomi on a tour of the station on horseback, along with another couple of Steve and Daniella’s friends, who’d arrived early this morning in a cloud of dust and a brand-new Range Rover. Steve’s old boss Ron and his wife Marge, from Mitchell River Station, had driven down from up north, and were just as keen as Dean to find out what Steve was doing to make Stormcloud so profitable.
At least Greek God Timmo had exchanged his suit and tie for jeans and a button-up shirt this morning. But those boots wouldn’t last the day, the soft leather would be ruined by the time they got back to the stables. The guy probably didn’t even know the front end from the rear on a horse.
Ten minutes later, Mack was forced to eat his words as Timmo sat effortlessly on Chico’s back, looking like he’d been born in the saddle. Was this guy Superman? Surely he couldn’t be good at everything?
Mack rode alongside Dean, enjoying the easy banter with his boss. Sitting astride Picasso, he breathed in a deep lungful of outback air. It was getting warm already, but the smell of dry earth and horse sweat was familiar and calming. This country was growing on him. It had a rawness, the open, uninterrupted plains with their red soil and olive trees had a stark beauty. Which was an interesting discovery, because he’d always thought the green grass and towering, snow-capped Montana mountains were the epitome of a divine landscape. He’d never dreamed this Queensland outback would ever hold a candle to the mountains of Montana. But there was something about this place that seemed to have wormed its way into his soul.
Mack shook himself. He was being ridiculous. Tuning in to what Bindi was saying as they rode, he listened intently as she fed them interesting facts and figures about stocking rates, how mustering times varied with how dry the previous season had been, how many weaners were sent to market in one season, how Steve had started reintroducing native grasses and leaving paddocks unstocked for two or three seasons, to help re-establish a natural undercover. She had an in-depth conversation with Ron about the sustainability of running lower numbers of cattle to try and revitalize the natural habitat. It was a delicate balance, but one that Bindi thought was worthwhile, because the old way of farming cattle, where the land was left completely denuded, eventually left the land useless, infertile, and much more open to the effect of drought.
Fascinating as the subject was, Mack found himself watching Timmo nearly as much as he listened to Bindi. Now and then Timmo would talk into an ear comms set, to whom or about what, Mack had no idea, probably Aaron. The guy was so serious about everything. He was making him jumpy with all his hyper-vigilance. His eyes never stopped moving, his back was tense, and he surveyed the land ahead and behind them as if a platoon of armed forces were about to jump out of the low-lying grass and start shooting at them with semi-automatic rifles. Which was laughable because, as far as they knew, Mutt was working alone.
According to the police, Mutt had disappeared. Nash hadn’t been able to find hide nor hair of the man or his vehicle after the attempted ramming. Nash had arrived at the crash scene the other day, stopping to make sure he and Bindi and the other driver were all unhurt. Then he’d taken off in a spray of gravel to chase after the fleeing car. But he’d made it all the way to the township of Nychum without a sign of him. The police had been on the hunt for him ever since, without any luck. Mack had heard the Northern Territory border wasn’t that far away. Maybe the thug had made a run for it.
Timmo dropped back to ride alongside him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Mack replied, lifting one eyebrow beneath the brim of his hat. What did this joker want now?
“Sorry, we haven’t had much time to get acquainted.”
It was the first time Timmo had said more than two words to him. And Mack was absolutely fine with the distinct lack of communication, but there was no point in putting the guy offside, so he made the right noises. “Mmm. I guess you’ve been busy.”
“Yes, but I make a point to get to know all my clients.” Mack’s gut churned at the expression. He had no problem with the guy being here to protect Bindi, if that’s what Steve and Daniella wanted, but he was quite capable of looking out for himself. He wasn’t anybody’s client.
“Aaron mentioned you have another theory for who might be responsible for the sabotage to your car. I’d like to hear about that, if you don’t mind.”
Mack flicked a glance at the group in front. Bindi was still regaling them with facts and figures about the station. He figured it couldn’t hurt to fill Timmo in on the details. So, he gave him an abbreviated version of his fall from the bull and his theory about the accident. The man’s eyes never stayed still the whole time Mack was talking, and he wondered if Timmo even heard a word he said.
“If what you’re saying is true, we should take a closer look at Clarissa Melman,” Timmo said, finally catching Mack’s gaze.
“Really?” Mack was surprised. Maybe he’d misjudged this man, not really bothering to look past the muscle-bound façade.
“Yes, we have connections with another private detective company over in the US. I’ll ask them to see what they can dig up.”
“Good,” Mack agreed. Added to Dean’s subtle inquiries, that’d be a big help. Even if all their investigation did was rattle Clarissa’s cage a little, he’d be okay with that.
The group of riders pulled up beside a fence, and their conversation came to an end. Bindi pushed Sahara up so she could unfasten the gate, then motioned the other riders through. “This is Portico Paddock,” she said. “Over there is one of our bores.” She pointed to a clump of trees a few hundred meters away. “I’ll show you how the watering system works and how Steve uses state-of-the-art equipment to monitor water levels and stock health.”
* * *
Mack reined Picasso to a halt just outside the main door of the stables. The two-hour ride had flown by, and he’d enjoyed talking ranching techniques with the other knowledgeable couples. Enjoyed watching the way Bindi’s face filled with vitality as she talked about a subject that obviously excited her.
“Thank you, Bindi. I don’t think even Steve could’ve given us a better tour than that.” Dean beamed his trademark smile at her, his face lighting up with animation. “Daniella told me about all of these new innovations, of course. But it’s one thing hearing something through an email, and a completely different thing seeing it in real life. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
Dean dismounted and led his horse into the saddling yard outside the entrance to the stables, without even having to be asked, like the old hand that he was. Then he helped Naomi off her horse and the couple stood by the gate, watching as Ron and Marge did the same.
“Not a problem,” Bindi said. “I enjoy showing people around who understand what I’m talking about.”
“Yes,” Ron chimed in, slapping his horse on the rump to get it moved into the yard. “When Steve told me what he was up to, I was a little skeptical. De-stocking, to help increase productivity, almost sounds counterintuitive. But I think he’s proving it works.” Ron turned to Dean and gestured an arm to take in the rolling plains.
