Page 5 of Outback Skies


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Good idea, a crew always worked better on a full stomach. And by the way Dale rolled his eyes, Indy guessed he was hoping the wayward truckie might wander back into camp before they even got searching.

“I’ll rouse Brian and Rosie and the Scanlons,” Indy volunteered. Most likely they’d all be awake anyway, they just needed a hurry along.

Ten minutes later, the whole group was eating breakfast while standing in a semicircle around the fire, listening to Dale give them directions. He was breaking them into pairs and each pair was given an area to search in a grid-like pattern, starting off at the perimeter of the camp and with each arc getting slowly farther away. The search groups were Brian and Rosie, Beth and Maddie, Mack and Dale, Indy and Finn, Dale and Carrot, andMick and Swampy. Indy stiffened slightly as Dale gave them their assignments. Did she really want to be paired with Finn? She guessed she didn’t really have a choice.

Aaron had just arrived in his helicopter, so he would also join the search, flying in concentric circles around the camp. Aaron was an ex-bodyguard, and he’d joined the Stormcloud crew last year when he’d been called in to protect Julie from a crazed stalker. They’d fallen in love and he’d stayed on, exchanging his career as a bodyguard for one equally full of adrenaline; the resort’s new helicopter pilot. When Aaron heard the news, he narrowed his eyes—Indy was still getting used to his one blue eye and one brown, but everyone else was totally blasé about his multicolored gaze—and drew his broad shoulders up to his full height. It was Aaron’s tense reaction that made Indy wonder if the lost truckie was indeed perhaps something more alarming than she believed.

Bindi was to stay at camp and let them know if he turned up. That allowed her to continue to organize lunch. If they hadn’t found anything by lunchtime, they were to meet back at camp and Dale would call in extra backup. If they hadn’t found anything by lunchtime, it meant something sinister might be afoot. All the vehicles around camp had been accounted for, just in case Wombat had taken it into his head to steal an ATV or a motorcycle and hightail it out of there. Which would’ve been highly unlikely.

There was some discussion as to whether they should go on horseback or motorcycle. Dale decided that horseback was preferable, as their slower pace allowed for a better scrutiny of the search area. But there weren’t enough horses for everyone. Brian and Rosie had their horses, as did Dale and Mack, and Dave and Carrot, but the Scanlons all used four-wheel-drive vehicles. It was decided to give Finn’s motorcycle to Swampy,and Finn said he’d ride one of Dale’s spare horses. They always brought three or four spares in case of accident or injury.

“You can ride, I assume?” Indy asked over her shoulder as she saddled Gypsy a few minutes later. Others were also saddling their horses around them, and there was the hum of light conversation and the snort of horses impatient to be away.

“Of course, I can,” Finn replied with a wounded look. “Might be a bit rusty, though. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a horse.” He lifted the borrowed saddle over the palomino mare’s whither and bent to grab the girth, tightening it with practiced ease. He was riding Sahara today, Bindi’s preferred horse, and Indy guessed Bindi was probably watching the saddling yard wistfully from the mess tent. “I just prefer motorcycles. They’re faster,” he added with a mischievous grin.

“No, they’re not,” she retorted. “Well, maybe over a piece of flat, open ground,” she acquiesced. “But certainly not over the potholed floodplains where we muster the cattle. I guarantee Gypsy would beat your motorcycle hands down, if you ever want to race.”

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” he asked, as he swung a leg into his stirrup and was in the saddle in one easy motion.

Finn had swapped his bike helmet for a light-brown Akubra. It suited him. Suited him so much, Indy had to look away before he caught her staring. His snug jeans defined his muscular thighs even better when he was astride a horse. And he’d removed his sheepskin jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves, to reveal nicely tanned forearms. Finn made one damn sexy cowboy. She just needed to keep reminding herself he was married, and to stop drooling over him like some lovesick teenager.

“This way.” She swung into her own saddle and guided Gypsy in a northerly direction to the search area Dale had given them. “Good luck,” she called back to the rest of the group.

“Let us know via the two-way if you find anything,” Dale reminded her, as he, too, swung up onto his horse, Dante.

“Will do,” both she and Finn replied in chorus.

Indy whistled up Barbie and Digger from where they’d been investigating a pile of horse dung. Great, she was probably going to have to wash both of them later on. There was nothing Digger loved better than to roll in the freshest horse poo he could find. It was one of the reasons she usually left him tied up back at camp; he was still young and did immature, stupid things. The dogs were at Gypsy’s heels in an instant. She was hoping they might help her locate the missing truckie with their superior sense of smell. They were far from trained search and rescue dogs, but if they smelled something different or interesting, they might lead them to him.

They walked their horses side by side toward the big, old gum tree that marked the start of their search area, a silence falling easily between them. She watched Finn surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye. He had a natural seat in the saddle, easy and long-legged, hands held lightly above Sahara’s mane. It seemed he hadn’t been lying when he said he could ride. Their knees bumped gently, and she directed Gypsy farther away with a light touch to her flank, ignoring the jolt of heat his touch sent up her thigh.

“Right, let’s find this guy.” Finn’s light bantering mood from earlier seemed to have disappeared. He was now focussed, taking this job seriously. His eyes took on a sharp, intense glow as he surveyed the surrounding area. If Indy didn’t know any better, she might even think Finn had a vested interest in finding this guy. “I think we should stay around twenty meters apart,” he said. “That way we can keep a good eye on the ground between us, as well as cover a corridor about the same distance away on the other side.” Indy shrugged one shoulder. If the guy wanted to take charge, she wasn’t about to argue. The gravel road leadinginto the stock camp was to be the boundary to their search area on their right, and Indy used that as a rough guide to help her sort out their grid pattern.

They moved apart, and Indy sent her dogs out to range on her far side. They bounded off, bright-eyed, into the scrub. Barbie would stay close, but she’d need to monitor Digger. If he found a bunny trail or something equally interesting, he might well disappear. Walking in parallel as much as the terrain would allow, they set off in their pre-ordained direction. Indy sighed in frustration. This was such a waste of their time. It’d put the whole muster a day behind schedule. She silently cursed Wombat and his odd disappearance.

“What do you think happened to Wombat?” he asked, after a few moment’s silence, never taking his eyes off the ground in front. His question surprised her for a second.

“I don’t know,” she replied carefully. “Why? What do you think happened to him?”

He raised an eyebrow and stared at her, speculation swimming in his eyes. Speculation and something else. Something like misgiving. Or unease. Or both. Did Finn know something he wasn’t telling her? “I don’t know,” he finally replied. “But you have to admit, this is very odd. Have you ever known someone to go missing from a stock camp before?”

She thought about it for a while. “Not like this, no. Not without some sort of clue, like a missing vehicle. Or a fight with a co-worker.” She had to agree with him, it was very peculiar. A strange feeling of apprehension skittered over her skin.

They continued their search, conversation sparse, and eyes locked on the ground. She stopped to take a drink of water occasionally. At one stage they came upon a cattle watering station, and both her dogs hopped into the concrete trough and lapped thirstily, enjoying the cooling sensation of the water.

They were about half-way through their search transect when Digger barked. Indy checked to see that Barbie was trotting at Gypsy’s heels. What had that dog found now? Indy called him back to her, but he ignored her, continuing to bark. It was unusual. Even though Digger was unruly, he always came when he was called, and he rarely barked unless he was chasing a rabbit, or something had scared him.

“Shall we see what your dog’s so worked up about?” Finn called.

“I guess so.” Indy touched Gypsy’s side with her heel and they trotted off in the direction of the barking.

Digger was around a hundred meters ahead of their current search area, near the gravel road that was their right-hand boundary. They would’ve searched this area in the next two or three sweeps, but he’d led them straight to a spot overlooking the edge of a ravine.

“What’s got into you?” Indy asked, half impatiently.

Digger stopped barking and looked up at her expectantly, tongue lolling happily. Then he looked back down into the ravine, which was really a shallow culvert cut out by last year’s heavy rains. Finn pulled Sahara up beside her, and they peered as one into the depression.

“Oh, shit,” Indy breathed. “Is that…?” She didn’t finish her question as Finn leaped off his horse and scrambled down the short incline.

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