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Dale would be around somewhere, too. Steve had entrusted the stock camp to Dale this year for the first time, and he was taking his role to heart. She guessed he would already have stoked the fire for Bindi and got the water she needed for the coffee and to boil the eggs. They carried all the drinking water with them out to camp, as the bore water here wasn’t fit to drink. Indy added a dash of milk and took a few cautious sips. Ahhhh, that was better.
“I can do the toast, if you like.” Indy grabbed a loaf of bread and headed for the fire, where a wire grill was already set up over the low flames. She’d done the same task yesterday morning, and found it gave her a chance to help, while also sipping on her much-needed coffee.
“Thanks, that’d be wonderful,” Bindi sang out, flashing her a bright grin.
Bindi had a great work ethic, and she really seemed to love what she did. Indy liked her immensely. As a matter of fact, Indy got on well with everyone at Stormcloud. Her decision to move from Western Australia to Queensland had been a good one, and she was glad she’d landed here, where the staff welcomed her with open arms and the boss had a reputation of being fair and affable. A nice change from her previous one, she thought darkly.
Indy didn’t want to think about Patrick, it just made her sad. And then she got mad. At him and at herself. How could she have been so stupid? So gullible?
“Morning, gorgeous.” Indy spun her head to see Mack slide his hand around Bindi’s waist and kiss her full on the lips. Those two were so in love. If they weren’t so adorable, it might turn Indy’s stomach. Mack was one cocky bloke, and he liked to dress to impress, but he was a hard worker and underneath all that flashy exterior, he had a heart of gold. And Bindi brought out that side of him every time she glanced in his direction. Bindi was sweet, with large, brown eyes, and a wicked smile. It was no wonder Mack was hooked on her. She looked away, not wanting to intrude on their intimate moment. They were still murmuring sweet nothings to each other, and she had to resist the urge to block her ears. Opening the packet of bread, she slid four slices onto the wire rack to toast.
Come to think of it, all the Stormcloud staff seemed to be loved up and paired off. Dale had married his gorgeous wife Daisy back in December; they’d actually been off on their honeymoon when she’d arrived to take up her position at Stormcloud. Rumors abounded—mainly started by Bindi and the receptionist, Sasha—that Skylar and Nash would be next to tie the knot. They were living together in a rambling, old, colonial house halfway between town and the station. But Indy kept reminding Bindi and Sasha that Nash needed to proposefirst. Bindi waved that minor problem away as if it were a foregone conclusion.
Steve’s daughter, Julie, was totally in love with Aaron, the sexy, Adonis-like, helicopter pilot. Julie was one of Indy’s favorites, she could make anyone smile with a word or a hug—she was such a warm personality. Indy secretly had her money on Aaron popping the question to Julie before Nash asked Skylar. Then there was Alek, the Polish activities manager, who seemed to be the only unattached male at the station. But he only had eyes for Sasha, any fool could see that. Indy liked the status quo. No one bothered her, and no one took her fancy. She was free to be single and alone, which was how she wanted it.
“Good morning.” It was Finn, wrapped in a warm jacket, his hair still tousled from sleep. “Can I give you a hand?”
She regarded him for two beats. Talking about someone to take her fancy. She ignored that thought and said, “Sure. Could you please grab a large plate and a few clean dish towels from Bindi?” Was he trying to get back in her good books? Not that he was in her bad books, but it was clear they could both feel the slight tension buzzing between them left over from last night.
“Will do.” He flashed her a warm smile. She watched as he walked to the mess tent, unconsciously drawn to the way his blue jeans hugged his nice backside. He was just as delicious from the back as he was from the front. Her gaze wandered up to those broad shoulders, filling out his sheepskin jacket. With his athletic build and chiseled cheekbones, it was hard not to stare. The man was hot. She was surprised for a moment that she’d actually noticed. It’d been five long months since she’d left Mountvey Downs. Five long months since she’d even considered another man in any kind of romantic capacity.
The smell of toasting bread brought her back to reality with a snap, and she only just caught the bread before it burned, flipping the pieces over with a set of tongs. Toast was a trickything, especially over an open fire. You couldn’t get distracted, or it’d burn quicker than you could blink. And Finn was a distraction, that much was for sure. A distraction she didn’t need. Her battered heart wasn’t ready for anything more than feeling sorry for herself right now. And he was married, for God’s sake. Why was she even looking at him?
He returned just as she checked the other side of the toast. It was done. He held out the plate, she dropped it on, and he covered it with the cloth to keep it warm while she cooked up some more. He got down on his haunches next to her, eyes trained on the fire, cup of coffee in one hand, plate of toast in the other. It was nice of him to offer to help. Most of the other ringers left the cooking and camp duties to Bindi and the Stormcloud crew. They were here to muster, and they did their job well, worked bloody hard during the day. But they didn’t think it was their job to do any more than that. Finn obviously took a different view. She’d noticed that about him, right from the start. He was keen to jump in and help wherever he was needed; it didn’t matter who was supposed to do the job.
He was a good man, she could feel it deep in her bones.
Right then, she made the decision to keep Finn’s odd nocturnal phone call to herself. For now. Whatever he was up to, she didn’t think it was malicious.
She looked at him and smiled. He smiled back and the tension suddenly evaporated between them.
Someone called out and she and Finn turned as one, to see Swampy puffing noisily into camp. Swampy was one of the two truck drivers who’d arrived last night and shared a meal and a yarn with the musterers. Truckies often stayed overnight in camp. It meant they could get the cattle loaded early, and be off on their long drive north sooner, rather than later. Swampy was a big guy, he reminded Indy a little of a wannabe biker, with along beard and tattoos all over his body. Truckies were a tough breed, they had to be, to live most of their lives on the road.
“He’s gone.” Swampy looked from Indy and Finn beside the fire, to Mack and Bindi in the tent.
Finn stood and asked, “Who’s gone?”
“Wombat. He’s not in his truck. And he’s not around camp, neither.”
Finn’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at Mack. It looked as if he wanted to say more, but he let Mack take the lead.
Mack shrugged and said, “He’s probably just gone off into the bush for a little…alone time.” Indy silently agreed with Mack. The camp had a bush dunny situated a few hundred meters from the perimeter of the camp. But at least half the truckies and contract crew would rather take their own personal trowel and roll of paper and find a nice tree to squat behind.
“Nah, mate,” Swampy shook his bald, tattooed head. “I’ve been up for an hour, and I checked his truck then because he asked me to make sure he was up; he sometimes sleeps through his alarm.” Indy wasn’t surprised to hear that after the amount of beer the man had consumed last night. “But he’s still not back. It’s not like him. I’ve worked with Wombat before. He might be a bit of a cowboy, but he always likes to check his truck before he takes on a load, he’s pretty fussy about it.”
Indy had taken a quiet dislike to Wombat. Something about his beady little eyes that were just a tad too close together. He was jovial and loved to tell loud, bawdy jokes, while watching the women with his piggy eyes to gauge their reaction. But to hear the man was missing made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
Dale strode around the side of the tent and they all looked at him expectantly. “What?” he asked, coming to a sudden halt.
Swampy repeated what he’d said, and Dale pursed his lips in exasperation as the story unfolded.
“Bloody hell,” Dale swore quietly. “Get everyone out of their swags. We need to go look for him.”
Indy was surprised, at first. But she guessed Dale couldn’t very well get on with the day’s work if a man was truly missing. The outback was unforgiving. If he’d wandered off somewhere, he wouldn’t last long once the sun got up to scorch the earth. She felt a pang of sorrow for the cattle, who were supposed to be loaded onto the trucks this morning. Instead, they’d be left penned up in the growing heat of the day. She hoped they found this idiot soon, so they could get on with their proper work.
“I’ll go get Dave and Carrot,” Finn said, placing the plate of toast on the folding table at the front of the tent. He cast her a worried glance, blue eyes piercing and sharp, and rushed off. Indy was a tad surprised at his haste. The guy was taking this all a bit too seriously, wasn’t he? The truckie had probably got himself turned around while he was out there taking a dump. They’d find him soon enough.
“I’ll organize us all into search parties while we eat,” Dale called out.
