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CHAPTER THREE
“THAT’S RIGHT, YOU’RE doing great,” Bindi called to the woman on the horse beside her.
“Are you sure? I feel like a sack of potatoes flopping around up here.” Petra giggled, and then grabbed for the pommel of the saddle as she nearly lost her balance. Chico gave a gentle snort. The part-clydesdale horse was used to beginners bouncing along on his back. The older woman was trying her best, but she clearly wasn’t cut out for horse riding. Her riding helmet kept slipping sideways, and Bindi reached over and tightened it for her. The poor woman was only out here to please her husband, Franco, who sauntered along on his horse up at the front of the line, talking to Mack. At least Franco could ride, which was one silver lining to her day.
“Nah, you’re getting the hang of it real well.” Mack dropped back to come along the other side of Petra, and Bindi ground her teeth together.
She didn’t need his help. She was doing fine, thank you very much. He was supposed to be tagging along at the back, not interfering with every little single thing she did. And not leading the ride, for God’s sake. This was only his first full day at Stormcloud. Steve had said she was in charge. This guy was no replacement for Wazza, not in Bindi’s books, anyway. Mack had a long way to go before he came anywhere near Wazza’s knowledge and experience. But Stormcloud had been down a crew member for the past few months, ever since Wazza and his new ladylove, Kee, along with Kee’s daughter, had moved to Cairns. Steve seemed to think Mack would slot right in and be able to pick up things quickly. Bindi had her doubts.
She also missed Wazza and his laid-back attitude. He was generous and caring, a rare commodity amongst the rough and tumble men who often worked on these stations. Steve had chosen well with Wazza, and she knew she was probably biased against any replacement. While Bindi had never seen him in a romantic light, they’d been close friends. Kee was one lucky woman. But at least Wazza and Kee would be back for the wedding, bringing Kee’s gorgeous little daughter, Benni, with them.
“Keep your hands down lower.” Mack reached over and covered Petra’s hand with his to show her what he meant. “That’s right, so they hover just above the horse’s whither. That helps you keep your balance better, see?” The woman glanced at him and gave a girly giggle. These were all things Bindi had said to Petra not five minutes before. But for some reason, Mack’s teachings seemed to have an impact, as the woman kept her hands down like he instructed, instead of letting her arms flap around like a hapless chicken.
Surely Petra wasn’t flirting with Mack. Was she? She was twice his age, if she was a day. But Mack seemed to have that effect on every female he met. Especially with that amazing, wide smile of his.
Except her.
She was determined not to be taken in by that startling grin and that cowboy swagger.
Bindi nearly threw Chico’s lead rein at Mack in disgust. If he was so good at teaching the older lady, then he could take over.
If only he wasn’t so good looking, she might even succeed in putting him beneath her notice. Mack shot her a cheeky grin over the top of Petra’s head and it was all Bindi could do not to grin back.
Damn him. She was going to ignore his sexy seduction techniques, if it was the last thing she did.
“How are you going back there?” Bindi called over her shoulder to the other couple following along behind. Secretly, she wished Mack would drop back and talk to them. Perhaps even take up the rear, where she didn’t have to look at him anymore. The other couple were younger, staying at Stormcloud for their honeymoon, and they only had eyes for each other. At least they’d both done some horse riding before, and were capable of handling the horses themselves. Sam and Leah. They were so cute, and so in love. If only true love could be that simple.
Normally, Steve led these expeditions, but he was still caught up fretting over the filly, so he’d asked her to lead this small group of four guests to the top of the escarpment this afternoon. Bindi loved getting out of the kitchen, and as long as Skylar was happy to let her go, she always jumped at the chance to go riding.
And that’d been her feeling today, right up until Steve had told her that Mack was coming along too.
Bindi wasn’t really sure what she had against Mack. It was nothing she could put her finger on. Everyone else seemed to like him, it was just her. He was just so…arrogant wasn’t quite the right word. Self-assured. Extroverted. Nope, that wasn’t it. She kept coming back to that word, cocky, because that was the best way to describe him. He fit that stereotype of a cocky cowboy to a T. Even down to his slow drawl and the way he tipped his hat to all the ladies in that old-fashioned way. Steve had mentioned that Mack was a pro bull rider, had even won a few championships over in America. Maybe that’s where he got his swagger. Maybe all the bull riders were like that. Although, Bindi had never paid them much heed whenever she’d attended a rodeo, too much sweat and testosterone for her liking.
Although, he had lost a bit of that swagger yesterday afternoon. She was sure something had been wrong. When she’d shown him to the staff quarters, he’d seemed to go quiet all of a sudden, face slightly pale and sweaty. She’d wanted to ask him if he was fine, but he’d practically shoved her out the door. Then, when he’d arrived in the kitchen nearly an hour later, there’d been no sign of that moment of weakness; he’d flashed his winning smile at everyone and charmed them all with his tawny eyes and easy humor. Bindi had shrugged it off as her overactive imagination. Thankfully, Steve had asked Dale to take Mack and retrieve his vehicle from the side of the road. Bindi didn’t fancy being cooped up in a car with Mack, not even for the short drive back to where she’d found Melody. But then she remembered Mack had begged off early, not even eating dinner before he went back to his room. His excuse was that the jet lag was catching up to him. But he’d already been on the road for nearly two days on the drive up here, so Bindi wasn’t sure how solid that reason was.
Dale and Julie had taken the rest of the guests out to the old, abandoned gold mine for the afternoon. She’d watched the convoy of ATVs wind their way down the path behind the lodge as she made her way to the stables. But the newlyweds, along with Franco and Petra, had wanted to do something different. A ride up to the escarpment normally took less than two hours, and the view from up the top was spectacular. Bindi carried all the makings for afternoon tea in her saddle bags; she had some of Skylar’s delicious brownies and a thermos of hot water for tea and coffee. Simple but effective.
Her gaze slid to Mack atop his horse, Picasso—named because of the big patches of white and brown covering his piebald hide—watching the easy way he sat in the saddle, the innate understanding that seemed to flow between him and the gelding. At least he had one thing going for him; it was clear he loved horses and could ride well. Why had no one else ever looked so damn good riding a horse? It was as if Mack could turn even that simple act into a sensual experience. At least he wasn’t wearing all black today, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still dressed like he’d just stepped out of a western movie. He swapped out his black shirt for an equally flashy dark-red one with silver buttons. He wore the same slim-fitting black jeans as yesterday, and topped off his ensemble with what Bindi was starting to call his bad-boy black hat. And his boots—don’t even let her start with his boots. A dark mahogany, to match his belt most probably, and made from what looked to be butter-soft leather, inlaid with delicate, tooled designs, they were the best-looking boots she’d ever seen. He was a show pony, through and through. With a snort of self-derision, Bindi tore her gaze away from him. Glancing down at her own boots, she decided hers were much more practical. Her second-favorite pair were well-worn, plain, brown leather, they were dusty and had seen many miles of hard work. She was proud of her boots. Which reminded her, she really should get her favorite pair fixed, sooner rather than later.
As if Mack seemed to gauge her darker mood, he quickened Picasso’s pace and re-joined Franco in the lead. Bindi watched his back from beneath the brim of her hat. Something about him niggled at the back of her brain. He reminded her of someone. That attitude, that easy charm, it made her think of… She gasped. Mack reminded her a little of her older brother, Kai. Not in looks—both she and her brother were part Maori—but something in his demeanor, the way he seemed to take life by the scruff of the neck and laugh in the face of the devil all at the same time.
Bindi shivered. The scar on her shoulder itched with a half-forgotten memory.
Perhaps that’s why she’d taken a dislike to Mack.
Kai was dead now. But she’d never forget him. Never forget what he’d done to her.
Clicking her tongue, she urged Sahara into a faster walk. The palomino responded with a frisk in her step, she was ready to stretch her legs, and all this slow plodding was making her antsy. Bindi knew how she felt, she longed to lean over the mare’s withers and let her wind up to a full gallop over the flat plains to their right. But she had responsibilities, and so did her horse. They needed to get Petra and the rest of their small party up to the top of the escarpment safely. And it was time she took the lead. The path up to the top was often hard to find, created by Steve for his guests alone on this particular trek. There was a road that went all the way to the top also, but it was much longer, following the gradual upward slope along the spine of the escarpment, and was used mainly by the ATVs, or a four-wheel-drive, if need be.
“Are you ready for a bit of a climb?” Bindi asked Petra, not really waiting for her answer, tugging the lead rein to keep Chico up with her. “I’ll take the lead,” she called, using her authoritative voice, bustling past Mack and Picasso. Petra was jolted out of her complacency, giving a little squeal, and grabbed for the pommel as she nearly slipped sideways again. Bindi held in a sigh. Some people were a natural when it came to horse riding and some people just weren’t cut out for it, no matter how patiently you coaxed them.
“Lead on.” Mack swung his hat off his head, and let her through with a flourish. She stared at him. If this was his form of chivalry, well… She wasn’t quite sure how to take it. American cowboys sure did things a little different to Aussie men.
An enormous bottle tree which loomed on the left, marking the start of the path they needed to climb, and she turned Sahara onto it. The rest of the way up the escarpment was spent coaxing Petra to stand up in her stirrups to take some of the weight of poor Chico’s back so he could clamber up the rocky path. Looking over her shoulder now and then, she checked to make sure Franco and the other couple were handling the steeper terrain. Mack had taken up position at the end of the line, encouraging Leah and Sam not to drop too far behind. Which shouldn’t surprise Bindi, because he had worked at Stargazer before he came here. So, he must know how a horse trek with inexperienced riders was supposed to go.
“Are we there yet?” Petra puffed.
“Nearly,” Bindi replied. “You just wait, it’s worth the climb, I promise.”
