Author's note: A late chapter because I'm having dental issues which make concentrating on writing a little tough. Sorry.
Not much here but worry, lots about cattle and horses and a spot of campdrafting.
Eliot awoke as morning light streamed into his room through his window adjacent to the open door which led out onto the new extension to the veranda. He stretched languorously under his blankets, and realised he had slept reasonably well despite his worries about Ponomarenko and Gertie.
He lay there for a moment, absorbing the quiet and allowing Wapanjara and its love to trickle into his being. He was home. Home. And now his team was here too, where they could relax and regain lost balance. His 'Lizbeth Grace was safer here than anywhere else in the world, protected by her family and by Wapanjara itself, set as it was in an unforgiving landscape, wild and dangerous to those who didn't respect it. Lizzie loved Wapanjara. It was in her soul and it guarded her fiercely, and she lived and breathed its air and the ancient, vast land loved her back. Ponomarenko would try and breach Wapanjara's armour at his peril.
Eliot's hand rested on the old Cherokee blanket draped over his bed covers, the black star stitched into one corner by his great-grandmother lying soft and comforting under his fingers. He smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up as he had a sudden memory of his mother's blue eyes warm in the early morning light as she ran her fingers through her son's thick hair. His Momma would have loved Wapanjara. Her laughter suddenly chimed in his heart, and Eliot thought once again about how much he missed her.
But life went on, and he had things to do this morning. Yawning, he eased out of his bed and absently scratched the healed scar under his left arm, which still bothered him a little. Making his way around his bed, he headed for the bathroom, looking forward to his early morning ablutions and a refreshing shower. Having his own bathroom was going to be a blessing, he thought, and turned the door handle.
It was locked.
He tried again. The door remained locked. Irritated, he rattled the handle.
"'Lizbeth Grace! You in there?" he rasped. "Hurry up, will ya?"
"I'm busy!"came the reply.
Eliot muttered a few choice words under his breath and tried again.
"Are you gonna be long?"
Lizzie's reply was enigmatic. "Don't know!" she said.
Dammit. Eliot pondered his options. He could use the main bathroom, but his shampoo wasn't accessible. Well, he could deal with that. Digging out fresh boxers and a teeshirt, he slipped on his cut-offs, grabbed a towel, threw it over his shoulder and set forth.
He was brought up short by the sight of Nate and Hardison standing outside the door to the main bathroom, both of them looking glum but resigned.
"What the hell, Nate?" Eliot snarked as Nate let out a sad sigh.
Nathan Ford did not look a happy man. He too had a towel tucked under one arm and a bottle of shampoo in hand. Eliot checked out Hardison. He was in a bathrobe and carried a huge towel as well as his shaving kit.
Nate scowled.
"I never realised Sophie took up so much time in the bathroom. We have two at home so this problem … well, it just doesn't arise."
Hardison opened his mouth to speak but Eliot held up a finger.
"Shut up, Hardison. I ain't talkin' to you!" he growled, but Hardison, waiting for Mei to finish bathing the twins in the main bathroom, ignored him.
Parker at least wasn't having a problem. She was sound asleep in Bernadette's roof tent, her preferred bedroom. Parker adored sleeping in the tent. She loved being high up and she loved the freedom of it. And this time, although she hadn't told anyone, she had brought Bunny and Delbert with her. Delbert was a plushy koala she had bought for Bunny during her last visit to Wapanjara.
Jo appeared from the living room, fully dressed and looking as though she had been up and about for hours. She studied the small line of woeful men in various stages of undress clutching towels and other manly accoutrements such as shampoo and razors.
"Good grief!" she exclaimed with a smile. "It makes me wonder how we all managed when we had just one bathroom!"
"Damn womenfolk takin' a month of Sundays to do whatever it is they like to do in bathrooms," Hardison grumbled, and ignored Eliot's glare.
"Yeah, well, what you know about women could be written on a pinhead Hardison, so –"
"All done!" Mei sang cheerily as she opened the bathroom door and shoved Jamie into Hardison's arms. She then retrieved Rose, who lay on the floor on a thick pad, arms and legs flailing happily.
Jamie cackled merrily at Hardison, who juggled towel, shaving gear and baby. The little boy thought it was hilarious.
Mei drifted past, leaned over and kissed Jamie on the top of his head, beamed a happy smile at the three men and then she tugged Hardison's teeshirt.
"Come on, Alec! Jamie is hungry and he wants his breakfast." Her dark eyes shone with delight. "Effie is making pancakes," she added with a calculating gleam in her eye, "with mango and bananas."
Hardison looked at Jamie, who stared back with big eyes and then let out a giggly squeak as Hardison very gently poked his tummy with a long finger.
"You're hungry, little man, huh," the hacker mused. "Well, me too … me too. Tell you what. Let's go do breakfast an' then once I get a shower you an' me an' your sis, we go hang out while I do some work. How does that sound?"
Jamie smacked rosebud lips as Rose wriggled in her mother's arms. Both children obviously thought it was a jolly good idea. Mei giggled and reached out to relieve Hardison of his shaving kit.
"There is maple syrup too," she teased, and Hardison grinned.
"Lead on, little lady! Lead on!" He stuck out his chin, looking like an explorer ready to take on an unknown world, and Mei led the way as she and Hardison headed to the kitchen.
"Bathroom's free!" Sophie sang as she sailed out into the corridor from the new bedroom. She looked stunning, Nate thought. Immaculately dressed and with not a hair out of place, she smiled serenely at Nate and Eliot. "For goodness sake, you two! Stop cluttering up the place like a pair of abandoned puppies. Breakfast's almost ready!"
Lizzie's door opened and the child emerged from her room, dressed and ready to get on with her day, Cec tucked under one arm and her Akubra hanging from its chinstrap at her back. She flapped her hand at Eliot.
"Come on, Eliot! Effie'll be mad if we don't sit down for brekkie now! And Kip and me … we're going to brush the horses and check Gertie and then we're helping –"
She babbled on about her day as her dark eyes shone with excitement at being home at Wapanjara, the place she loved most in the world.
Eliot eyed Sophie, who smiled smugly.
"Don't look at me, Eliot." She waved a hand vaguely at her daughter. "Your fault. You brought us here in the first place." Sophie's smile softened. "She's happy. And, I have to say, so am I." Her gaze switched to Nate. There was a suggestive gleam in her eye. "Nate … before sunset. You and me. Billabong. Alright? And no cozzies."
Nate suddenly brightened, eyes crinkling as he smiled at the idea. A swim in the billabong at sunset with his wife sounded just the ticket. Especially when they didn't bother taking their 'cozzies'.
Eliot, disgusted, waggled a finger at his friends.
"You two – too much information, dammit!" he groused, gesturing with his chin at Lizzie, but it was too late. Lizzie looked up at her mother, eyes wide.
"But Mama! You can't swim in the billabong without any clothes on! That would be rude!" she gasped, and Eliot raised his eyebrows, his waggling finger now pointed at the child.
"See? See what I mean? An' I ain't answering her, Soph! Okay?" he growled, and the tips of his ears turned a fetching shell-pink. For a man who wasn't shy about his various casual relationships through the years and who teased Hardison mercilessly with information about how many women he had 'liaised' with, Eliot could be surprisingly prudish, especially where Lizzie was concerned.
"As if you've never swum in the billabong in your birthday suit," Nate prodded, and Eliot's lip began to curl.
"That's different!" he hissed, and then wished he hadn't answered. Lizzie turned to him with eyes alight with curiosity.
"Why is it different?" she asked. "Mama, I don't understand! Daddy, why –"
"Damnation, Soph!" Eliot snarled, upper lip twitching as it often did when he was irritated beyond belief, "I ain't dealin' with this!" He finally decided he had had enough. He straightened, gave an indignant growl, stalked past Sophie and Lizzie with as much dignity as he could muster and disappeared into his room. The door slammed shut behind him.
Lizzie blinked. She took a deep breath, thought about swimming in the billabong cozzie-less, and wrinkled her forehead in distaste.
"I wouldn't like to swim in the billabong without my cozzie," she declared. "I might get bitten on the bum by a yabbie!" And with that, she copied Eliot's dignified pose almost perfectly and with a faint 'tsk' of disapproval aimed at her parents, she headed for the kitchen and Effie's affectionate grousing.
Sophie noted her daughter's indignant poise and had to grin.
"Little Miss Prim and Proper," she commented, and then shook her head. "I'm waiting for the day she says 'Dammit, Mama!'" she added, amused, "and I expect she'll be able to disarm a horde of ninjas and an army of Somalian pirates with her little finger without breaking a sweat before she's ten." But the smile suddenly faded from her beautiful features, dissolving into lines of worry and fear.
Nate reached out and squeezed her hand, reassuring his wife, or so he thought.
"Ponomarenko will never touch her, you know that," he murmured softly. "Eliot would die before that would happen. We would ALL die before we let that happen," he continued, trying his best to quell his wife's fears for their daughter. "And she has her people here at Wapanjara. She's well-protected, Soph. Better than anyone, up to and including the White House, Buckingham Palace and the Kremlin combined."
Sophie's lips pursed as she thought about it, and then she nodded as though trying to settle the issue in her mind. She sighed deeply and unhappily.
"I know, Nate … oh God, I know she's safer than any of us. But … that man is targeting Eliot, and one way to do that is threaten Lizzie. And I have no idea how to deal with that."
Nate heard every atom of worry in Sophie's voice, and couldn't deny she had a point.
"I know, I know," he said, understanding the issues, "and I know we have to try and get to the bottom of it, but Hardison's come up blank with every damn thing he's tried, and if he can't find the information then it's either been worked on by someone better than Hardison or it simply doesn't exist."
The two of them stood for a moment in the shadowed corridor, a narrow beam of sunlight streaming in via the open door of their shared bedroom. They held hands and felt helpless in the moment, but Nate suddenly stirred.
"Look … Hardison's still doing his best to track the bastard down … both Ponomarenko and that woman who's supposed to have hired him. And we have people we trust out there who have their ears to the ground. We can't let it get to us, Soph." Nate's voice hitched in his throat. "We just can't. For Lizzie's sake."
Sophie huffed a frustrated sigh.
"It's just so hard, Nate. y'know? I can't even think straight most of the time because of this. And for some reason I think the nasty little bugger's not just after Eliot. I think … I think there is a lot more to it than that. Something more structured … more … oh …" she struggled with finding the words, "… more complex. There's a plan of some sort working in the background that is far more complicated than we originally thought. I just know it! I wish I could wring the wanker's scrawny neck!" she added with a finality that made Nate smile, despite his worry. Sophie was never more lovely than when she was furious.
Nate lifted her arm and tucked it through his and tugged gently.
"C'mon. Breakfast. We have a busy day, so let's get some good food in us." He leaned over and kissed his wife, which made Sophie smile despite her fear for their daughter. "Pancakes, Soph. Effie's pancakes. You'll feel better after pancakes and a few cups of tea."
Sophie's eyebrows arched, her eyes now warm with love for her husband.
"Mmmm … tea. That's definitely what I need. Some Earl Grey. And Effie always warms the teapot first. A lady after my own heart!" She waited for long moments, trying to let her nerves settle, and then with a decisive nod, she plastered a smile on her face and squeezed Nate's biceps. "Right. Pancakes. And tea."
Nate kissed her cheek again, her unique scent of Chanel and everything distinctively 'Sophie' making him hum with pleasure.
"See? It'll work out, Soph. Our girl couldn't be safer."
And the two of them made their way along the corridor to Wapanjara's huge old kitchen for plenty of good food and the warmth of family.
The discussion that morning once breakfast was eaten and the dishes done was detailed and wide-ranging.
First and foremost was the forthcoming trip to Alice Springs. Originally intended to be a fun visit organised by Hardison for Effie so that she could choose the rotisserie he had promised her, it had grown into an essential journey to pick up equipment for both Alinjirri and Wapanjara. Normally Soapy would have had to ship equipment from Darwin or Adelaide, but Hardison had other plans.
He sat back on his chair and grinned that shit-eating grin that made Eliot want to punch him.
"Cessna Cargomaster," he said, steepling long fingers as he studied his audience. The last time Eliot had seen Hardison so excited was when he thought using a laser to cook food was actually something for which Eliot wouldn't disembowel him instantly. Any threat to Eliot's menus in the brewpub would certainly bring about the culprit's Sudden Death.
Nate frowned, puzzled.
"Yeah … a 'plane. What about it?" he asked, although he could guess where this was heading by the look of smug delight on the young hacker's face.
"A Super Cargomaster," Hardison continued, dark eyes alight with pleasure. "Seats up to fourteen, has a helluva cargo space an' can land on rough territory." His grin widened even more. "I got us one on approval."
"You bought a 'plane?" Soapy's bloodhound features were a picture of astonishment. "But –"
Hardison shrugged.
"Only on approval, Soapy. An' yeah, I know we don't have a runway … well, not yet … but I reckon we could do with one. See, I think it'll come in handy – the new team'll be far more flexible, an' we can even make it pay as an outback transport rental. Onslow has a pilot's license, and well … it's a no-brainer, people! So … I plan that we all go to Alice Springs as a dry run, an' we can pick up what we need an' be home in two shakes of a kangaroo's tail!"
He looked around at his team and family expectantly. When silence met his gaze, he furrowed his expressive eyebrows.
"Don't thank me all at once," he grumbled, but knew better than to complain. He could see the thoughtful glances and calculating chin-rubbing, and knew he had them all thinking. Onslow Dawson, the very able and deadly hitter for the new team, was a seasoned pilot of military cargo planes as well as helicopters.
Nate shrugged.
"Okay. Works for me. How long do we have it?"
Hardison, mollified a little, checked his notes.
"We pick it up at Tennant Creek tomorrow mornin', an' a pilot comes with the deal. It's an hour or so to Alice Springs, we do what we gotta do, load up our stuff." He turned to Effie. "I was thinkin' … maybe … maybe we stay overnight someplace nice, then take Lizzie to Ayers Rock. She tol' me she always wanted to see it, an' there's places we can stay for supper." he added, listening to Lizzie and Kip chatter happily in the distance as they helped Jacko feed the mares and foals. "Charlie an' Kip could come too."
Eliot thought about it for a moment before shaking his head.
"It's Uluru, Hardison, not Ayers Rock. An' anyway … I don't think it's safe to take her this time. Either of the kids. We can do it another time –"
"Oh, don't be so bloody anal, you young mongrel!" Effie rumbled as she placed her cup of tea on the veranda table so she could lean forward to scowl at Eliot. "You've been far more vulnerable back in bloomin' America, aintcha, but here … well, that shonky bastard Pono-whatsit would have to go through all us to touch either of 'em. They'll be surrounded by people who love 'em, Yank. They'll be safe enough."
Eliot pondered the problem for a moment. Once again the need to protect those he loved swirled through his chest, and he now had Gertie to worry about as well. Just for a fleeting moment he felt the tight pressure of overwhelming frustration the situation caused, but he tamped it down and studied the expectant crowd of faces before him.
Effie was right. Portland was more vulnerable, with its easy accessibility and cosmopolitan landscape. Here in the Northern Territory, with its vast distances and unforgiving land, his people were safer, even in a town like Alice. He cocked an eyebrow at Nate and Sophie.
"Are you two okay with this?" he asked, doubt echoing in every word.
Nate grasped Sophie's hand and thought about the conversation outside the bathroom. For a moment he saw once again the terror in Sophie's eyes, but then her fear turned to determination, and his wife nodded her assent.
"Yeah … yeah, we're okay with it," he said, although he struggled to keep his voice steady. "If we let this get to us then Ponomarenko wins. We can't allow any kind of show of weakness, Eliot, you know that. Anyway," he added with a rueful smile, "we're supposed to be on a working vacation, so I think we should just do what we want – but keep our eyes open. Remember, Ponomarenko, as far as we know, is still in Europe."
Onslow had been keeping his eyes and ears open during a couple of retrieval jobs in Eastern Europe, and the Confessor himself had told Eliot he had work to carry out before he came after the hitter. But Eliot knew better than to trust a murderous bastard like Tomas Ponomarenko. He sighed. Nate was right. They couldn't retreat into hiding – they had work to do, and the addition of a new team would make their defence even stronger.
Decision made, Eliot nodded curtly.
"Okay. We go to Alice. But we keep the kids close and stay together. I can't have anyone of you idiots straying off on your own, y'hear me?" he growled, "'cause tryin' to keep you fools in some sort of order is like herdin' cats!"
"We'll stay here," Jo murmured as she reached for Soapy's hand and held it tight. "Mei isn't comfortable about leaving the homestead just yet, and the babies are still so little." She quirked a smile, her green eyes soft in the morning sunlight. "Besides, we have a camel to keep an eye on."
Soapy held Jo's fingers tight and patted her hand.
"We'll be fine, won't we, old girl," he said to his adored wife, and Jo nodded happily.
"Gertie still has a week or so to go I think, so don't worry – we'll take good care of her." Jo smiled at Eliot, amused by his deep worry about his camel, but she understood his concerns.
Further discussion was interrupted by a loud, happy gurk.
Around the house ambled Gertie, accompanied by two children leading saddled horses and followed by a small white dog. Boss stockman Jacko brought up the rear, a rangy brown mare and a stocky, mean-eyed black gelding in tow. Jacko grinned, his tanned features alive with humour.
"Up to sorting some poddies, Yank? Get your soft city arse back in gear, hey?" Jacko called, and gestured at Eliot with the reins of the gelding.
"You should go, Eliot," Sophie urged, and she smirked as Gertie crowded the bottom of the veranda steps, neck outstretched and tongue stuck out, ready to tell Eliot she loved him. Everyone noticed she waddled a little as she walked. A flurry of silly camel-squeaks ensued.
For a few moments, Eliot uncharacteristically dithered. He wanted to continue making decisions about the trip to Alice Springs, but he also wanted to keep Lizzie and Kip within his protective range. Lizzie's face was a picture. She desperately wanted Eliot to accompany them, and she smiled as winningly as she could as her ride, a solid little dun called Narra, nudged at her back, the horse eager to be off.
"Please, Eliot? It'll be fun, and Gertie can come too! Jacko says it'll do her good, and the babbie won't come to any harm, Jacko says, and he says we have to check the water flow into the tank, and –"
Eliot made up his mind. Waving a hand at the rest of his team, he stood up and cricked his neck and then frowned.
"Hardison, make sure everyone's on board for this trip, okay? I want everything simple so there's nothin' to screw up, y'hear?" He ran fingers through his hair, and squinted in the bright light. " Eff, we'll be back at noon. Everyone okay about this?" he asked finally, sure somebody would object, but all he saw were happy faces gazing back at him.
"I'll make sure everythin's in place, El, an' I got a couple of leads to follow up. Jamie an' Rose … we're gonna have a blast, huh!" He bipped Rosie's nose as she lay in her baby seat. She burbled happily. Hardison's mobile face slipped for a moment into grim determination. "I got a new lead. I gotta keep chasin' up that woman Ponomarenko's workin' for."
Eliot knew Hardison would never give up. He was one of the most tenacious men Eliot knew, and despite Hardison driving him crazy, Eliot was grateful for his intelligence, skills and determination to protect his family.
He nodded, and Hardison's face once more broke into a cheesy grin.
"Age of the geek, baby!" Hardison crowed, and Jamie joined in with a cheery cackle.
"Alright. Alright, let's go, 'Lizbeth Grace. You an' Kip stay close, an' don't get in Jacko's way. Charlie, are you happy about this?"
Charlie nodded, his bony frame stretched out on one of the old seats.
"No worries, Eliot. Kip couldn't be safer, brother. Have a good morning. Soapy and me … we have some horses to shoe, so it'll keep the boy out from under my feet." He sighed as he saw Eliot hesitate. "For God's sake, Eliot! Just go, will you?" he added, a little exasperation beginning to edge his voice. "Stop being so bloody intense. You'll burst a blood vessel if you keep on like this, mate!"
Eliot took the hint. By the time he had changed into his riding boots, placed his stockman's hat on his head and curled his whip over his shoulder, Kip and Lizzie were ready to go, settled into their saddles and itching to be gone into the North paddock.
He stumped down the veranda steps and Jacko, now astride the mare, handed the reins of the gelding to Eliot. The animal pulled a face and did his best to bite Eliot's arm, but the hitter stepped back just in time and pushed the gelding's ugly, coffin-shaped head away.
"Behave, you asshole," he growled affectionately, but the gelding ignored him. The beast's eyes glittered with malice and as Eliot swung into the saddle the horse tried again, the head snaking around on its ewe-neck and trying to take a chunk out of Eliot's leg. Everyone heard the click of the gelding's teeth as the bite missed by a hair's breadth.
This time Eliot chuckled, amused, as the horse's woefully lopped ears flattened against its head in sheer bad temper.
"Why is Ratbag always so angry?" Lizzie asked, worried a little for Eliot as the gelding grumbled and tossed his head, knowing it would annoy his rider.
Jacko snorted.
"Yeah, well, Ratbag by name, ratbag by nature. That's just the way he is." The little stockman squinted at the child. "Now, nippers – you know you never go near him, right? He'd kick you into the middle of next week as soon as look at you."
Both Kip and Lizzie nodded solemnly as Eliot touched his heels to Ratbag's sides and the horse hesitantly turned, giving a little, half-hearted buck as he deigned to bend to Eliot's will. Even Gertie gave the animal a wide berth as she fell in behind the little group as they headed towards the North paddock gate. She complained bitterly because she couldn't give Eliot the camel kisses he so obviously needed, but she dealt with it and strode serenely along, belly swaying, grumbling and squeaking to herself.
"WAIT FOR ME!"
The yell brought the little party to a halt, and everyone twisted in the saddle to see Parker cantering awkwardly towards them on a bored-looking appaloosa gelding, her face screwed up in concentration.
Eliot sighed and shook his head. Parker and Kevin had a love-hate relationship going on, but it appeared Parker, with all of her 'horse-clown' issues, was determined to beat her fears.
"Come on, Parker! We ain't got all day! There's work to do!" he called out, and not waiting for her to catch up, he touched Ratbag into a grudging trot, and with the children letting out yells of excitement, they trotted off into the bush, sending up soft pouts of dust among the statuesque termite mounds, insects whirring from the dry grass. The constant hum of cicadas and the crackling call of a kookaburra followed the little group as they made their way towards the North paddock muster yards, and the vast outback welcomed them back into its heart.
There were nearly six hundred weaned calves, or 'poddies', milling in the huge, funneled enclosure which flowed into a complex of high-sided chutes leading to separated yards. A cattle-crush had been slotted into the main run so that animals could be checked, tagged and drenched with wormer before being sent through to whichever yard was their destination. In this case one yard was for cattle being retained on the station and the other was for steers intended to be sold on.
Some of the Wapanjara crew were already there, slowly but surely sorting young steers and heifers from the mob and sending them through the chutes for a health check and to be graded and sorted into the pens. Wapanjara's old ute was parked away from the chutes and the tailgate was down, the flatbed holding all sorts of intriguing things such as drenching tools and containers of the worming anthelmintic ready to be used as cattle were held in the cattle crush. Eartags were laid out in order, and a laptop was open to the recording system Hardison had installed for Soapy, making the station's work that much easier. Chill-boxes held bottled water and sandwiches.
Chalky Perkins, working cattle in the huge pen, lifted his hat and waved at the little group as they approached, Gertie striding majestically in the rear.
"Hoo-roo!" he yelled, and cantered over to meet them. "You ready to do some work, you lazy bludgers?"
Eliot brought Ratbag to a halt beside the high, sturdy wooden fence and grinned.
"It's been a while, Chalky. Lookin' forward to it." Ratbag shifted under him as the horse tried to bite Chalky's mare through the fence. Both Eliot and Chalky ignored him. "What d'you need us to do?"
Chalky thought about it and studied the eager faces of the two children sitting astride their mounts, eager to help. Parker held Kevin back a little, unsure as to what to do next, but Chalky grinned. "Hey, missy, how about you help the ringers over there." He gestured at the riders in the pen quietly containing the huge group of cattle at the rear of the pen, doing their best to keep them calm and settled.
Parker blinked a few times and stared at the dust and the cattle, the riders watching how they moved and gauging how far to push them without upsetting the creatures.
"I … I don't know how," she muttered, and Kevin grumbled to himself, impatient with his rider.
Chalky settled his battered hat back on his head and nodded, understanding.
"Don't worry. I got another jillaroo out there too, learning the job. The others'll keep an eye on you … y'know … in case you fall off."
Parker scowled and heard Eliot let out a snort of amusement.
"Fall off?" she snapped, annoyed. "I never fall off. Anything," she added, with a hint of ire.
Chalky hitched a wiry eyebrow at Eliot, who nodded in agreement.
"Righto then," he continued, although he still doubted the young woman was as skilled as Eliot obviously believed her to be, "all you have to do is make sure the poddies are settled while the Yank and the rest of us cut out the ones we want and put 'em through the chutes, alright? You nippers can help out here with the eartagging and pushing 'em through the chutes, okay? But don't get in the way, young 'uns! My life wouldn't be worth a brass razoo if you even got a scratch, so if we tell you to shift, nippers, you shift! Understand?"
Lizzie, eyes wide with wonder, nodded vigorously. She was going to help.
Jacko eased his mare to one side and gestured at the children.
"Follow me, you young buggers, and don't get off your horses, hey? You're safer on 'em right now. Go help Nobby," he gestured at a short figure standing by the cattle crush with a table beside him laden with an ear-tagger and a drenching bottle and tube. Another figure was stationed on the other side of the crush working the quick-release on the neck restraint, releasing the animal into the chute and sending it forward along the race and into the requisite pen.
Lizzie and Kip's faces lit up. They loved Nobby. Eliot cringed. The old ringer had a foul mouth that put Effie's to shame, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.
"You two!" he said, letting his inner hitter-on-a-mission show, and his eyes narrowed, which was intended to show that he meant every word. Lizzie and Kip played along.
"Yes, Eliot," Kip murmured dutifully. Lizzie sat respectfully silent.
Eliot scowled at the two children.
"You do as Nobby says! There will be no arguments, no 'but Nobby's, no sulking if you have to get out of the way. You understand?"
The children nodded, Lizzie adding a "Yah-huh, Eliot," into the mix so that the Oklahoman knew she understood every word.
Eliot's eyes became fierce slits as he studied the two children. He thought about it and then nodded curtly.
"Okay. Git. Both of you. We got work to do an' if you want to get back in time for lunch, we have to get at least half of the mob done, you hear me?" But before the children could reply, he turned to Parker. "Go to the ute an' dig out a spare hat, Parker. You're gonna get sunstroke if you're out there without a hat."
Parker sat up and instinctively touched her head, surprised.
"Hat. I need a hat," she muttered. Then she pointed at Eliot's stock whip which he was now unfurling ready to haze individual cattle out of the mob and driving them towards the chute. "I want one of those, too," she added firmly.
Eliot shook out the whip, Ratbag doing his best to try and catch hold of it and pull Eliot out of the saddle.
"In your dreams, Parker," he rumbled, and poked Ratbag in the neck, telling the animal to behave. Gertie, settling down beside the ute, gurked in approval. She was of the opinion that Ratbag should be consigned to a dog food tin.
Parker scowled, but urged Kevin over to the ute where she leaned over and dug out a spare stockman's hat from a bag. She jammed it onto her head and declared herself ready to go. Kevin didn't appear to agree as he slouched, ears lopping in disgust.
"Okay," Eliot breathed, slipping the leather loop of his whip over his wrist, "let's rock!"
And backing up Ratbag, he set off at a lope towards the gate where Chalky was waiting. Parker let out a yip which made Kevin start in surprise, and then the pair of them set off after Eliot, Kevin grumbling unhappily and Parker's face alight with anticipation.
Jacko chuckled, and leaned forward to tuck the mare's ear gently, settling her. She was keen to be on the move and working, as this was what she was made to do, and she pranced a little, eager to get amongst the cattle.
Nobby ambled over to say hello. He looked like a toothless scarecrow, ageless and shambling, and he was dusty and shabby. Only a pair of twinkling hazel eyes made his leathery features come alive.
"You ankle-biters! You're with me, hey?" he cackled cheerfully, reaching out to pet Kip's beloved Batu. Seeing the children's nods, he shrugged his bony shoulders and gestured at the chute. "You bloody well do as you're told, you little shits, and you'll be fine. You get in my fu- … fobbin' way, you arses, and I'll kick your bastard bums all the way to bleedin' Adelaide!" The little ringer had seen the glint in Eliot's eye, and knew he didn't like that particular word uttered around the children. Which, Nobby thought, was a shame as it was his favourite. But work beckoned and there was already a bullock in the crush, so he stationed the children along the race to the pens and told them that if a beast baulked and tried to turn around, they were to wave their hats and haze the animal on.
"Righto, Nobby!" Lizzie yelled loudly, which made the bullock in the crush roll its eyes, but she realised she had to be a lot less noisy, and she muttered a 'sorry' as she was now a jillaroo and had to listen to what Nobby told her to do.
Nobby dropped his head to hide his grin, noisily hocked up some spit onto the dusty ground and set to work.
That morning Eliot worked out his frustrations about Ponomarenko by focusing on cutting out individual cattle from the mob and pushing them into a small holding pen, where Jacko waited to ease them into the chute and the crush. There Nobby checked eartags and replaced any that had been lost, drenching the animals for worms and giving them a once-over, looking for any health issues. Then they were released from the head-bale, sending them along the race where the two children shooed them towards the gates and thence sorted into pens.
Eliot swore and sweated and cracked his whip over the heads of stubborn steers, and Ratbag showed why he wasn't sent to a pet food factory by being a tireless and agile stock horse with an iron constitution and equally iron-hard legs that stood up to the constant pressure of darting and propping as half-grown, wild-as-hell cattle tried to evade being herded towards the pens.
Parker sat astride Kevin and watched an Eliot she had never seen before. The hitter and the bad-tempered gelding were a well-oiled machine, and they were tireless. Eliot stood in his stirrups and his whip curled and cracked overhead as Ratbag galloped and propped and turned on a whisper, both of them in perfect synchronicity as cattle bawled and men shouted, and dust swirled about them as their perfect dance pushed recalcitrant cattle into pens. If a beast refused to turn, Ratbag and Eliot shouldered the animal, using Ratbag's bulk to shove the beast in the right direction. A split-second lapse of concentration could send both Ratbag and Eliot into a sprawling heap, but never once did either of them make a mistake.
Once one was penned Eliot turned Ratbag towards the remaining mob and eased another beast out of the mass of brown and red hides, some animals with horns hooking sideways and trying to shove Ratbag out of the way.
But Ratbag never wavered. He took Eliot out of danger and then they would both turn back to the work in hand, and Parker saw the same grim determination on Eliot's face that she saw when he was facing off six bad guys armed with machetes.
Parker learned how to hold Kevin ahead of the mob, keeping the cattle contained and as settled as she could, but her eyes kept being drawn back to Eliot, admiring his balance and skill, and by the time it was noon she had made a decision.
She trotted Kevin over to the gate to meet Chalky and Eliot as other stockmen took over for the afternoon, and she was surprised to see Eliot looking far more relaxed, teeth flashing in a grin from a dusty, dirty face. Both Eliot and Ratbag were rimed with sweat and red dust, but they looked at ease. Ratbag even reached out to bite Kevin on the rump, but Eliot gave him another poke in the neck and Ratbag stopped just in time.
Parker pointed at Eliot's whip.
"That thing! When we come back from Alice Springs, you are going to teach me how to do that thing with the whip!" she demanded.
Eliot, curling up his kangaroo hide whip and easing it over one shoulder, hitched a surprised eyebrow.
"What? Using a whip?" He shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"
Parker scowled, leaving dusty creases on her mobile features.
"No! Not just that!" She gestured at one of the ringers cutting out cattle from the mob. "That!"
Chalky and Eliot glanced at one another.
"Parker, you've only just learned how to ride," Eliot answered patiently, "it takes a helluva long time to learn to work cattle –"
"Don't start that crap with me, Sparky," she said waspishly, and Eliot could tell by the tone in her voice that Parker wasn't going to take no for an answer. She gesticulated at a girl of no more that sixteen sending her horse towards the mob, whip ready.
"Penny can do it, so why can't I?"
Eliot squinted in the sunlight as he stared at Penny, the girl cutting out a big bullock from the mob.
"Penny's been riding since before she could walk, Parker. And anyway, Kevin's no campdraft horse. He's okay for doing a bit of mustering, but cutting out steers?" Eliot shook his head. "Nope."
Parker frowned.
"Campdraft? What's campdraft?" she asked impatiently.
Chalky leaned over to open the latch on the heavy gate and swing it open.
"It's a competition we do out here, Parker, based on cutting out livestock. Kevin's never been a cutting horse. He's just a plain old stock horse. You need a horse like Ratbag or … or Spud here –" he ran a hand down his mount's neck, " –to do what Eliot's been up to all morning. It takes a horse with a bit a balance and nerve and it has to be quick on its feet. Dear old Kev …" Chalky grinned. "He's just a bit of a bloody puddin'."
Parker thought about it. Kevin didn't appear to care less about the insult, but she wasn't about to back down. She leaned over and poked Eliot in the ribs, which made him wince and swear under his breath.
"I don't care! Kevin and me … we're going to learn to campdraft!" she announced, and with that she cajoled Kevin into a walk and headed through the open gate, head held high with disdain, passing an open-mouthed Chalky.
Eliot glared at her retreating back.
"Aw … hell," he said. "Why me? What the hell did I do? Just what the hell did I do to deserve this?" And with Ratbag pulling faces at Spud, Eliot made his way out of the pen and sullenly rode out into the baked outback beyond the pens.
To be continued …