At trails end.
In this story, Claire's accident never happened, Her relationship with Peter is in tatters. Becky hasn't yet left, Brick is still alive. Stevie has arrived. The opening scene is a campfire in a traveling stock reserve, a lone drover is sitting by the fire, a mob graze nearby.
The fire crackled as more wood was dropped onto it, sending sparks climbing into the night sky. Nearby a horse grazed quietly, the occasional clink from the hobble chains could be heard as it moved. The cattle, bedded down for the night in the stock reserve made quiet noises. The drover, stretched and yawned.
"End of the trail tomorrow" He said to his red heeler dog as he gave him a scratch. "Get this lot to the yards and we'll be right." The old dog yawned and put his chin back on his paws, his eyes open and alert for anything that was out of place. Life on the trails had come easy, but nearing his late 20's the drover was ready to call somewhere home, his reasons for driving his last mob as boss drover to Gungellan was no mistake. Climbing into his swag, he sat his hat underneath his boots. It was going to be a cool night, no sign of rain or storm. He drifted to sleep, dreaming of a cold beer when the droving day was done.
The morning broke, clear and cool, a hint of slight mist hung slightly in the lower reaches of the valley, rolling his swag, he went to the nearby bore, drawing water, he put the fire out. With his camp packed, the only reminder of someone being there was the burnt log. Just the way he liked it, he could move through the bush leaving nary a trace. He whistled up his dog.
"Here Blue!" He mounted his horse, a big black mix breed for 18 hands. At over six foot, the drover rode high in the saddle, a slight slouch from all the years spent there, his legs were bowed and his voice rough. His weathered face held a few wrinkles from the weather and a hard life. All that was over now. He cracked his whip, the cattle moved on easily. Whistling a tune he began to walk them the last few kays to the yards.
Gungellan.
Stevie was at the rural, picking up some wire to fix the road fence at Drovers when Bob the mailman pulled up.
"Morning Stevie."
"Morning Bob."
"Hey you couldn't take the mail for Drovers for me could you?"
"Sure, no worries."
"Great girl, that's good." Bob said, handing it over. "Hey, did you hear?"
"Hear what Bob?"
"About the mob coming to town?"
"What mob?" Steve asked seriously.
"There's a drover, he's bought a mob down from the border way, bringing to Gungellan."
"Why?"
"Search me. He arrives today they reckon. Rumour is its Butcher Beresford's boy."
"Right." Stevie said, leaving it to drop.
Stevie drove back to Drovers, Claire was at the front fence.
"You took your bloody time." She quipped.
"Sorry, got talking to Bob."
"You'll learn about that."
"Yeah, hey, who was Butcher Beresford?"
"No idea. Oh hang on, I remember Dad saying something about a bloke Beresford, he used to work at Wilgul. Whys that?"
"Oh no reason, apparently his son is droving a mob of cattle to Gungellan for the sales tomorrow."
"Ah okay, haven't heard. Well, this fence isn't going to fix itself."
At the saleyards in Gungellan.
The drover was greeted by the Stock inspector at the yards.
"Cattle are looking well."
"Yeah, they travelled good." The drover replied, handing him a sheaf of papers from his saddlebag. The stock inspector studied the documents. "That's all in order." He said. "Beresford is it?"
"Yeah that's right, Heath Beresford."
"Won't be staying long will you? Guess you'll have another mob to drove."
"Don't know, a man can only be on the wallaby for so long."
"Yeah." The stock inspector laughed.
At Killarney
"Going to the sales tomorrow Dad?"
"No, there's nothing there worth buying."
"Thought I'd head in and have a look, Stevie said she was going."
"Alex, I've warned you about that drifter Hall before, don't go getting tied up with her again."
"Dad." Alex started to say.
"Just do as you're bloody told." Harry cut him off.
Alex walked from the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Where you off to Alex?" Brick said.
"Drovers."
"Great Ill grab a lift."
"Haven't you got work to do?"
"Yeah but I want to ask Becky if she's going to the sales tomorrow."
"Yeah righto." Alex replied with a laugh.
At Drovers Run
Claire and Stevie arrived back, Tess was standing out the front.
"So are we going to the sales tomorrow?"
"Yes, why?" Claire asked.
"Oh, no reason." Tess replied with a smile and promptly walked off.
"I think she has the hots for Nick." Stevie said.
"Like you have for Alex?" Claire asked pointedly.
"Yeah, what's not to like?" Stevie replied with a huge grin.
"Nothing." Claire mumbled.
Stevie went in search of Meg, she found her in the garden. "Hey Meg."
"Hi Stevie."
"Did you know a bloke by the name of Butcher Beresford?"
"Butcher Beresford? Sure did, he was the stockman at Wilgul for years. Before that he used to work for Harry Ryan's father." Whys that?"
"No reason, apparently his son has been droving a mob of cattle here for the sales."
"Well then, he'll be for a bit of a shock. Butcher wasn't well liked around here."
"Ah, what happened?"
"Long time ago." Meg said, and left it at that.
Meanwhile, back in Gungellan, at the pub.
Heath sat at a table in the beer garden, a jug of rum and coke in front of him. He had showered and shaved, He felt a million dollars, a good feed in his belly, now a few cold rums, the sales tomorrow should be good, agents had told him that there were buyers coming from miles and nearly every farmer would be in attendance to see the drover's mob. Heath could taste the success, it was going to be sweet. Finally he could rub the noses of those rich stuck up types that had shunned his friendship, all the hard work, blood sweat and tears on the trail would be worth it. Who knew? Maybe he would stick around, buy himself a place. He had a good feeling about Gungellan, it was strangely familiar, and he couldn't shake that feeling.
The following morning, he collected his horse early from where he had left it on the edge of town, loading his swag he mounted and rode to the yards. The carpark was full of cars, Utes and trucks. The catwalks were swarming with agents and stockmen. Buyers everywhere. Heath felt the dollar signs in his eyes. After today he was going to be one very wealthy man. He wasn't counting all his chickens though, there will still a couple of bills yet to pay.
He hitched the horse to a nearby tree, there was an old trough underneath that someone had filled with fresh water thoughtfully. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a group of women and men walking towards the yards, the older lady at the back did a double take at him. She stared at him as if she knew him. He looked down at his worn and tattered jeans and oilskin coat. He would need a few new clothes after this, maybe a Ute as well. He chuckled to himself and walked to the yards.
Claire and Stevie were looking at a few of the pens as they listened to others talking excitedly about the drover.
"He drove them down from the border. Up Queensland way."
"Yeah? You don't say, you're having me on?"
"No true!"
She smiled at the non-believers, the cattle had travelled well, and they were far and away above what was on offer anywhere else. If the price was right, she might try and buy a pen or two. The auctioneer climbed to the catwalk and called the sale to a start.
"Right Sale-o Sale-o, sale-o there buyers. Here we have today this sensational run of cattle for your bidding and competition here today. Driven down from the border by this young man, you get the benefits of his labour." Claire and Stevie looked up at the catwalk, all the agents stood there in their shirts and moleskins, on the end there was a tall streak of a man in a battered black hat, torn jeans and an old well-worn oilskin coat. They fixed her eyes on him, his eyes seemed to be scanning the crowd.
The bidding got underway, everyone was clamouring for a pen or two, a couple went to Alex Ryan, Nick bought the next one then Claire jumped up and bought the next one. All the activity was making the drover smile. And well it should have. These were the best prices in the district in months. When the sale finished, Claire had bought 6 pens all up.
"How are we going to get the home?" Stevie asked.
"You leave that to me." Claire said. Stevie shot her a puzzled look as she turned and started to talk to Alex. Claire spotted Heath, she walked up to him. "Claire McLeod." She said, extending her hand.
"Heath Beresford." He relied, his voice rough, almost gravelly.
"Heath I was wondering, I have bought a few of your cattle, would you mind droving them back to the farm?"
"Yeah I spose I can. What's the farm called?"
"Drovers Run." She said and Heath laughed. "What's so funny?" Claire asked.
"Drovers Run? And you're talking to a drover, just a laugh I guess, you'll have to excuse my humour, I've been on the trails a bit long."
"Ah yes, well, that's fair enough."
Claire gave him the directions, at the end of the sale, he let the cattle out of their pens and walked them out of the town, Claire and Stevie watched him, they were soon joined by Meg.
"Is that the drover?" Meg asked.
"Yep, sure is." Stevie replied, "He's taking them home for us."
"Oh." Meg said
"Anything wrong?" Claire asked.
"No, no." Meg replied.
Early the next day-Drovers Run
Tess was in the yards, opening all the pens when she heard the crack of the whip. Looking around the shed she saw the cattle ambling along the driveway with Heath moving easily in the saddle of his horse. Blue trotted alongside the horse. Tess smiled, it was a beautiful scene, just like out of a picture. She heard a noise, she looked sideways and saw Claire lowering her camera.
"Thought I'd paint this one later." She said with a smile. Turning she called out.
"Ok, need all hands, incoming cattle."