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“The station manager. And my stepdad,” Dale added, with the slightest hint of hesitation. “He’s a good bloke, you’ll like him.” Dale stopped speaking then and ducked his head, almost as if he’d said too much.
She used his silence to weigh up her options. Which weren’t many. There was only one choice, really. That was to leave her car here, where she hoped it’d be safe, and join this man. She screwed up her face in resigned frustration.
“I’ve got food in my car that needs to go in a refrigerator. Is it okay if I bring it?”
“Sure, let me give you a hand.” He already had the rear door open, and was pulling out one of the large boxes. Daisy took hold of the other box, also grabbing the bag with the motorcycle part, her small backpack containing her overnight stuff, and her phone from the front seat. She’d only been planning on one night away, so she had no change of clothes, but there was a toothbrush and a hairbrush in there, which would help.
Dale shoved his box onto the rear seat of his truck, and she did the same. Then he beckoned her into the dry cabin. It was a relief to be out of the rain. The seats were getting wet from the water cascading off their bodies, but Dale didn’t seem to mind. He started the truck, and they were on their way toward the most famous station in far north Queensland.
Of course, she’d heard of Stormcloud Station. Everyone in the district knew of the luxury eco-resort hidden at the base of the Mulligan Escarpment, a part of the Atherton Tablelands. It catered to celebrities and rich people. Yindi, River’s friend at the aboriginal community over at Koongarra Station where they were staying, had told her it cost over two-thousand dollars a night to stay there. Daisy could never afford to stay at a place like that. Why would she want to, anyway? It didn’t mean she wasn’t curious, however.
Silence surrounded them as Dale negotiated the deep puddles forming in the road. Silence was good. It meant she didn’t need to censor every word that came out of her mouth.
But it wasn’t meant to last.
“It’s strange, I haven’t seen you around at all. Out here, we’re acquainted with all our neighbors,” Dale said.
She didn’t appreciate his probing tone, and even though she’d anticipated his question, she snapped out the first words that came to mind. “Yes, well, if I hadn’t got stuck in that bloody creek, you probably still wouldn’t know I even existed.” Why the hell did country people think they had a God given right to interfere in everyone else’s business?
It was only when Dale glanced her way that she realized she’d said the wrong thing. Something a lot like suspicion hovered in his brown eyes. Shit, she needed to backtrack, and fast, because the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was hiding something. That she’d been staying out of sight on purpose.
“Sorry, that was aimed more at me, than you.” She added a dose of apology, and what she hoped was a hint of self-criticism. “I’m still mad at myself for trying to drive through that creek.”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Which she thought might’ve taken a whole lot of self-control on his part.
Trying to get the conversation back on track, she said, “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I was going to ask, where did you say you were staying?” Yep, it looked like he had a knack for driving straight to the heart of the very topic she didn’t want to talk about. She snuck a quick peek at him. The puzzled look was back, his brow wrinkling in that charming way he had. He reminded her of an adorable puppy, with those big, brown eyes.
“Oh, yeah.” She gave what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “My colleague and I are staying out at Koongarra. You know it?”
“Sure, I know it.” Did she just imagine the slight frown that crossed his features? But it was gone before she could be sure. When she didn’t give him any more information, he asked, “Are you staying up at the homestead? Working for Bryan?”
“Sort of.” She bit her lip. This was the first time she’d had to use their made-up story. Would it stand up to his scrutiny? She didn’t want to mention they were staying at the Back Paddock Outstation on the edge of the property, if she didn’t have to. The less he knew, the better. “The Kuku Community Group have asked my colleague and I to do a bit of consulting for them.”
“Oh, yeah.” Dale kept his eyes fixed on the wet road, but she could almost feel the tension rise in the cab. “That’s…interesting. What kind of consulting?”
“They’ve asked for an environmental assessment of the property.” She hid her small grimace. She was studying environmental law at uni—was in her fourth and final year. And while she knew a lot of the correct terms and language, could probably fool the locals pretty well, it was a fair stretch to go from understanding environmental law to being a proper ecologist bent on conservation, which was what she was purporting to be.
“They have?” The slight uptick in Dale’s tone was his only giveaway. His interest had turned to anxiety. She knew her cover story might cause people around here to become nervous. Use of an environmental consultant by an Aboriginal group was sometimes code for the group getting ready to make land claims in the area. She needed to allay his fears.
“Yeah, they want to expand their interests. The cattle make them a good living, but they want something more sustainable, more environmentally friendly, to make the best use of the land.” She hesitated, wracking her brain to come up with some options she’d looked up as part of her cover story. “You know there are plenty of avocado farms around here already?” Dale merely nodded as she continued, “So, starting their own orchard might be a good idea. Or Macadamia nuts, perhaps. There’s a ballooning market for those overseas. Setting up their own beehives is another option. They’re even talking about starting their own art community. We’re going to look at all of those options, plus more and give them a plan.”
The Kuku Group was a group of elders from the Koongarra Station Aboriginal Community who ran the cattle station. As part of the homeland movement, where indigenous people moved home to their traditional lands, the Djungan people had bought the run-down station with the help of government funding and then organized Bryan as the station manager to help bring it back to life. They then used their own people from their small but committed community as station hands to carry out the work required. They were doing a good job of turning the station into a profitable commodity. A great example for other groups around the county to look up to.
“Wow, that sounds…interesting. I didn’t know they were considering expanding into other viable markets. I’ll be interested to see what you recommend. Maybe we can get some tips, too,” he said, smiling. His eyes crinkled up when he laughed. It was endearing, and Daisy found herself staring, not really concentrating on his words any longer.
“So, you and your work colleague are here for what…? A few months?”
“Yes, that’s right. We need time to examine and document the country and then consider all the options. My work partner, Ri… Ryan, has a family link with the Djungan people.” Had he noticed her stumble over his name? She plowed on, regardless. “Ryan’s here to help me liaise with them.” Which was only partly a lie. They did have a link to the Djungan people, only through a friend of their mother.
But this was also where their cover story fell down. River would never pass as any sort of professional. His spiked, blonde hair—naturally blond, although most people found it hard to believe when they saw the dark color of his skin—numerous facial piercings, and tattoos, were a dead giveaway. Never mind the attitude he projected. Like he was still in Perth with his gang, taking part in their petty crimes and blustering bravado.
Much good that’d do him, however, because that very same gang believed he’d betrayed them and they were now hunting him to exact their revenge.
But as long as Dale never met River face-to-face, then everything would be fine. Because if he happened to see River, their cover might well be blown. River’s face was plastered all over the police wanted lists back in Western Australia. Which was the other reason they’d fled to North Queensland, hoping to escape detection.
The police wanted to arrest him as an accessory to murder.
His gang wanted to kill him to send a message to other’s who might want to double-cross them.
They were being hunted by the law and the law-breakers alike.
But she’d be damned if she’d let either of them have him.
