Author's note: Not much here but a worried hitter, lots about cattle and horses and a spot of campdrafting, as well as a trip to Alice Springs. I'm a big rodeo fan, and seeing as Christian Kane comes from rodeo stock, I thought Eliot might enjoy the challenge of bull-riding.

LEVERAGE

The ride back to the homestead was slow and easy. Both children were very tired but happy to have helped with the muster. Although Kip had been surrounded by cattle all his life, sharing the experience with Lizzie made it all new and exciting, and they had worked hard to haze the poddies along the race and into the pens, with old Nobby yelling instructions once in a while to keep his charges on their toes.

Eliot relaxed his weary frame as they rode, allowing an equally tired Ratbag to droop his head and amble along, although it didn't stop him trying to take a chunk out of Jacko's leg as the man rode beside Eliot.

Lizzie was even too worn out to chatter about her morning. The combination of the work and the legacy of a long, tiring flight had drained her normally boundless energy, and she was content to let Narra have his head with Kip beside her, Batu walking quietly alongside Lizzie's little dun gelding.

Gertie as always brought up the rear. She of all of them had had a pleasant, relaxing morning, sitting beside the ute, cudding happily and accepting any treats that came her way. She was eating for two, as she squeakily told anyone who was listening, and she managed to finagle an almost endless stream of bread crusts and apple cores as the ringers dropped by for water and a quick bite to eat.

Now she strode behind Eliot, careful to stay clear of Ratbag's lethal back legs, and she gurgled to herself as she followed her family home.

Eliot had decided to ride back via the cattle yards so that they could give the horses a wash down and a feed before turning them loose in the small paddock beside the barn. But as they drew nearer to the yards, he noticed a small group of bulls penned at the rear of the barn. Wapanjara's breeding bulls usually roamed the huge paddocks with the mobs of cows and calves, and they were rarely gathered together into a small bachelor herd, so Eliot was immediately intrigued.

Touching Ratbag into a trot, which made the gelding arch his back and try to buck, Eliot let out a sharp reprimand and Ratbag settled down into simmering bad temper and did as he was told.

The little group of riders stopped beside the roomy pen and studied the six bulls.

Jacko quirked a grin.

"Soapy's new hobby," he said.

Eliot studied the bulls. They were solid, well-grown and heavily muscled. All carried the hump and wide, sweeping horns that showed their Brahman blood, although the sharp tips of the horns had been removed and smoothed down. None of the animals, Eliot decided, weighed less than eighteen hundred pounds, and as they stood up from their resting place and turned to watch the newcomers, Eliot noted the lengthy, powerful backs and the long, sturdy legs.

It was then he realised what Jacko was talking about.

"Soapy's breedin' buckin' bulls?" he asked, somewhat astonished.

"He's always been a bit of a fan, and to be honest, it's your bloody fault in the first place!" Jacko teased, china blue eyes warm with humour.

"My fault? How the hell is it my fault?" Eliot didn't know whether to be testy or impressed. The bulls were, on this first impression, good sorts that would be a credit to any Stateside rodeo.

"When that bastard Chong was here … remember, you pretended to be the Duchess's manager, and you were interested in Soapy's bulls for breeding bucking stock?" Jacko prompted, using the nickname Effie had given Sophie. The crew had immediately adopted the name as their own. Sophie had been utterly charmed.

Eliot remembered alright. His cover as 'Lady Eloise Stanton's' ranch manager had been fun to do, and he had waxed lyrical about the prospect of gaining good seed bulls from Wapanjara. He hadn't had to lie. For years he had admired the quality of the Wapanjara stock.

Eliot shrugged and shifted in the saddle, easing his right leg. He was getting stiff after the hard work of the morning, but he ran a practiced eye once more over the bulls.

"Soapy's got a good eye, that's for sure," he said, and sat quietly for a moment, thinking about Soapy's intentions for the bulls.

Jacko knew exactly what the American was pondering.

"He's taking them to the first Tennant Creek campdraft at the end of February," he added, seeing the sudden spark of interest in Eliot's eyes. "Thought he'd put 'em forward for the bull riding competition and see if anyone's interested in buying 'em. What d'you think?"

Eliot thought some more and then nodded.

"You tried 'em yet?" he asked, because he saw the bulls were held next to a chute which opened into the large pen usually used for moving cattle and loading them into the huge cattle transporters that plied the Stuart Highway between Darwin and Adelaide.

Jacko nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, we've tried 'em with the dummy and a flank rope," he answered, "and they buck bloody lovely, so they do, but … maybe they could do with someone who knows what they're doing to have a go? See if they're up to scratch? Charlie's more of a buckjumper. Bulls isn't really his thing, and the rest of the lads … well, it's not something the silly buggers are used to."

Eliot felt a jar of excitement in his gut, and Jacko noticed the glitter of anticipation in the Oklahoman's eyes, and grinned.

"So, Yank … you up to trying the bastards out? Maybe in the new year, once your girl there –" he gestured at Gertie, who was standing gazing absently into the distance, " – has had her babbie."

"You can ride bulls?" Lizzie asked, eyes round with shock. "Really?"

"He's really good!" Kip hissed quietly at his best friend, "and he never falls off!"

Eliot allowed himself a smirk of pride.

"Well … not often, anyway. Yeah, 'Lizbeth Grace, I ride bulls once in a while. I used to ride for the hell of it in local rodeos back in Oklahoma when I was a teenager, before I joined the army. An' when I came to Wapanjara … well, it's … it's fun. I've been bull-ridin' here for years, an' Charlie and me … we compete at small campdrafts every now and then. He rides horses, an' I ride bulls."

"And they win!" Kip puffed his chest out to the point of explosion, or so it seemed. "My dad's a champ!"

"Hey, little man!" Eliot groused, pretending to be insulted, "I ride straight eights an' score high!"

Lizzie stared at Eliot as though she had never seen him before. Her guardian, godfather, protector and Good Wolf rode bucking bulls. She had never heard of anything so exciting.

"Can I watch? Please, Eliot? When you ride the bulls? And … and can I come to the campdraft and watch too, and Kip can come as well and Mama and Daddy and Alec and Parker and we can watch Charlie ride wild horses and - " Lizzie could barely breathe because she was so excited, her tiredness forgotten for now.

"The horses ain't wild, 'Lizbeth Grace," Eliot interjected, "they're just not broke. Bred for buckin'. Kip's right. Charlie's damn good at it an' has been the local champion around here more'n once." He ran the timeline through his head for a moment. He knew that the Leverage team would be at Wapanjara for a good two months or more, sorting out Alinjirri and dealing with acquiring more members for the new team. Even with the ever-present threat of Ponomarenko, he knew that the children would be protected. The Munros had many good friends in the area, and all would keep an eye on the children. He shrugged. "Hell, why not? It's a good day out an' the kids'll enjoy it." He winked at Lizzie. "They got calf-ridin' for the children, an' Effie always enters the CWA* cooking competitions."

"Lamingtons," Jacko sighed happily.

Parker studied the bulls, and her elfin face screwed up into thoughtfulness.

"I want to campdraft," she said firmly, even as Kevin's ears drooped, the horse descending into a doze.

Jacko stared at the little thief.

"You … you want to compete? At campdrafting? On Kevin?" he said faintly, and then let out a soft bark of laughter.

Parker suddenly leaned forward and covered Kevin's ears with her hands.

"Hey!" she snapped, "he can hear you!"

Eliot rolled his eyes and sighed, irritated now.

"Parker … listen … you don't really have enough time to learn how to campdraft, okay? Especially with Kevin. If you want to learn, there are a few good horses in the mob that'll work with you an' you can learn to do it properly, but –"

Parker's eyes narrowed to feline slits.

"If I can learn, Kevin can learn, Eliot! He just has to face his fears! And we are going to enter the campdraft-y competition, okay?"

Kevin, who could hear every word despite Parker's attempts to save his feelings, sighed and went to sleep.

Jacko thought about it.

"There's a novice section she could try, Yank," he said hesitantly. "Y'know … for learners. It's mostly for teens, but … why not? She could give it a go, hey?"

"See?" Parker hissed. "When do we start?"

"I think it's bonzer!" Kip interrupted as he stroked Batu's roan neck. "Parker can do anything!"

Parker, surprised and delighted by Kip's faith in her abilities, snorked happily and thief and child shared a fist-bump.

"You do realise you don't use a whip in competition, Parker – it's all about balance, speed and agility – all the things Kevin ain't. You have to split a steer from a group an' then herd it around a course, okay? An' these animals aren't tame, Parker – they'll do their best to run you ragged. It's no place for slow horses an' new riders." Eliot's voice was full of doubt, and although he admired Parker's determination he had to tell her how hard it was and how unlikely it would be for Kevin to even cut out a bullock, let alone be fast and agile enough to herd it around the pegged-out course.

Parker, however, wasn't to be deterred. She stuck out her chin and her blue eyes sparked beneath the borrowed stockman's hat.

"Don't care. We can do it, Kevin, can't we?"

Kevin, sound asleep, farted. Lizzie and Kip giggled.

"He said yes," Parker declared, and glared at Eliot, who shook his head wearily. He was too tired to tackle Parker's stubbornness, and now all he was looking forward to was getting the horses cleaned up and fed and then have a hot shower, a decent lunch and run the trip to Alice Springs through his mind to see what security measures he would have to take.

"Okay, okay … we'll talk about it in a few days, Parker. Once we're back from Alice an' Gertie's had her baby. Just … just be aware that Kevin might not match your expectations, is all."

Parker gently prodded Kevin with her heels and the appaloosa woke up with a start. Lifting his sparse, wispy tail he defecated, farted again and then sighed, waiting for Parker to make up her mind what to do next.

Eliot cast his eye one final time over the six bulls, and pondered the idea of trying them out sometime after Christmas. If nothing else it would take his mind off Gertie and Ponomarenko, and he felt he could do with the exercise. A couple of the bulls looked particularly promising. He would have to dig out his bull rope and check it for damage and give it an initial clean. Maybe Lizzie would like to help, he thought.

Backing up Ratbag, he led the little group towards the big gate leading to the barn entrance, and thought about his day as Parker plied Jacko with endless questions about campdrafting and the children both told Parker she was awesome, which she didn't deny. Yep, he thought. There was very, very definitely somethin' wrong with Parker. And Kevin.

And growling a warning at Ratbag as the horse tried to scrape him off against the fence while Jacko opened the gate, Eliot wandered through into the homestead yard as the midday sun baked the red earth and the cicadas sang in the shimmering haze of the bush.

LEVERAGE

The following morning, Wapanjara was a hive of activity.

Packing had been done the night before, and once breakfast was over, cooked by Nate and Mei so that Effie could have time to get organised for her first trip outside Wapanjara for over a decade, Doris and Bernadette were laden with cases and ready for the two-hour drive to Tennant Creek. There the 'borrowed' cargo 'plane awaited them for the hour-long flight to Alice Springs.

Hardison had had a blast organising the trip. There were various errands to undertake with regard to equipment for the two cattle stations, but the rest of the short, two-day visit was intended for pleasure, and he had included several things that he knew Lizzie and Kip would enjoy.

Charlie had told Kip that they would also be going on the trip during dinner the night before. It had been several months since the death of Alice, Charlie's adored wife and Kip's mother, and everyone had thought the couple of days away would do both of them good, so Kip, after letting out a shriek of delight that set dingoes howling from miles away, hugged Lizzie and shot off to the nearby bungalow he shared with his father to pack things for the journey.

Now he stood on the veranda, his backpack slung on his shoulders and his fluffy goanna Bert tucked under one arm, and waited for Effie.

Everybody was waiting for Effie.

Hardison and Nate were double-checking that everything was loaded, while everyone else stood about on the veranda. Eliot could hear the little cook muttering to herself in her room next to the kitchen, and his patience was wearing thin. He finally stalked to the door and banged on it impatiently.

"Dammit, Effie! We got a plane to catch! Hurry up will ya?"

He raised his fist to hammer again on the door when it opened suddenly, and Effie emerged.

Eliot's eyebrows raised in sudden surprise.

Instead of her usual drab grey dress, Effie wore what she had obviously decided was her best frock. It was short-sleeved and gloriously floral, bright and cheerful and roomy. She wore her most comfortable shoes so that her bunions didn't complain too much, and she carried an enormous handbag, which Eliot noted appeared suspiciously heavy.

"Stop gettin' your knickers in a twist, you mongrel!" she rasped, "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Reaching out to the chest of drawers she lifted her old RAAF slouch hat and jammed it on her head. She scowled at Eliot. "Righto, you bodgie! My bag's by the bed. I'll be in the ute!" she said, and pushing past Eliot she stumped onto the veranda, past the group of people awaiting her appearance and made her way down the steps. She opened Doris's passenger door, clambered into the seat, shut the door and glared at the faces staring back at her.

"Well? Wotcha waiting for, you dopey drongos? I got a bloody rotisserie to buy!" she growled. And placing her handbag on her lap, she settled down to wait for everyone else.

Nate blinked as though awakening from a deep sleep.

"Um … right. Okay … you heard the lady. Let's go, people! Apparently we have a bloody rotisserie to buy!"

Eliot followed everybody down the veranda steps, carrying Effie's old leather suitcase and complaining bitterly as he dragged it over to Bernadette and heaved it into one of the storage bins.

"Jeez, Eff! What the hell have you got in here?" he demanded, "bricks?"

"None of your bloody business!" Effie retorted, and pointedly ignored Eliot's mutterings.

Minutes later, everyone was aboard and ready to go. Jo peered in at Charlie, who was driving Doris.

"You enjoy yourself boy," she said softly. "I think the break will do you and Kip good. Don't worry about us. We'll be just grand."

Charlie eyed her doubtfully.

"Are you sure? I mean, Kip can go –"

"No, Charlie!" Soapy said, grinning. "We'll be absolutely fine. And anyway, we can chat on the video link tonight. Just don't forget the two generators we ordered, hey? Oh, and don't forget to have a decko at the bulldozer we were thinking about. And while you're at it, see if you can find a decent veterinary fridge –"

"For goodness sake, Soapy, let them go, will you?" Jo interjected with mock exasperation, "or else they're not going to get there at all!"

Charlie patted Jo's hand where it lay on the window rim, and winked.

"See you in a couple of days," he said. "Behave yourselves!"

And waving at Mei where she stood watching on the veranda, he started Doris's engine, and both vehicles drove out of the yard, past the ancient gum tree which guarded the gateway, and then headed up the incline and past the stringybarks, following the dirt road which led to the Stuart Highway.

As the vehicles disappeared in a miasma of red dust and shimmering heat, Soapy draped his arm over Jo's shoulders and kissed her auburn-silver curls.

"Well, old girl. We're on our own for the first time in years. It'll feel a bit wonky for a little while, hey? Without Effie?"

Jo smiled up at her husband.

"Well, not quite on our own, love. We have our daughter and grandchildren to keep us company," she added as she saw Mei lift Rose into her arms as Jamie wriggled happily about on his blanket on the veranda floor. Jo rested her head on Soapy's shoulders. "Oh, Soapy! I never thought I'd get the chance to say those words. Ever."

Soapy squeezed his wife affectionately.

"So, why don't we go and sit with our daughter and our babbies and have a cuppa," he murmured. "After all, Jacko's dealing with the crew so we have the rest of the day to ourselves." He sighed. "I think we need cake," he said firmly.

Jo kissed Soapy's cheek, which made him smile.

"Cake for breakfast it is," she agreed. "Chocolate. With sprinkles."

And turning toward the house, the two of them strolled back to their family hand in hand in the morning sunshine.

LEVERAGE

The one-hour flight to Alice Springs went smoothly, if a little noisily.

Young Kip Jakkamarra made the most of his first aeroplane flight, and spent his time with Lizzie peering through windows and shouting out to his father about all the things he could see. He became even more gleeful when Nate took him forward to the cabin to see the pilot, and he was invited to sit in the co-pilot's seat with the earphones on.

But soon the Cessna was lowering in the cloudless sky, and Kip and Lizzie gazed at the distant MacDonnell Ranges, hazy in the heat. Kip gasped as the 'plane banked over the boneyard, the last resting place for dozens of old aeroplanes, beyond which the great, red sand dunes of the Simpson Desert glimmered hotly to the south-east. Lizzie let out a yell of delight when she spotted a small mob of feral camels in the scrubland leading away from faint tracks among the grey-green scrub which held the dunes in place.

Alice Springs airport was small but busy. The two runways dealt with mostly internal flights, and it was here the Cessna would wait in a hangar until the team was ready to head back to Tennant Creek, laden with purchases and hopefully a bunch of more relaxed people.

A minibus awaited them, which made Eliot growl a little because the thing wasn't particularly solid and it had far too many windows, but he rode shotgun while Charlie drove the seven miles or so into the centre of the sprawl of Alice Springs. It took nearly an hour to find the bungalow where they were staying, and all the while Eliot tirelessly checked every set of traffic lights and crossings, his sharp eyes raking faces and other vehicles constantly to make sure they weren't being followed.

Lying within a plot of tree-huddled land on an anonymous, urban street, the roomy bungalow was reclusive, luxurious and secure. With no immediate neighbours, it sat in a neat, flower-laden garden draped around an oval pool, the water blue and still in the sunlight.

"Where the hell did you find this place?" Nate asked, impressed by the standard of the accommodation. It was obviously a rental property or something similar. The design was tasteful, expensive and artistic, but the house was obviously not lived in on a permanent basis.

The children, however, weren't interested in interior design. They went yelling from room to room, deciding which of the five bedrooms was theirs, and it was quickly decided that they would share the mezzanine set into the high, vaulted ceiling. It contained comfortable beds, their own television and lots of room to sprawl and giggle and annoy the adults.

Hardison dumped his backpack on the floor and took in the plush interior.

"It's technically a corporate let, Nate. Or … it was." He grinned, his dark eyes sparking with mischief.

"Oh, Hardison … what did you do?" Sophie whispered.

Hardison bridled at the intimation he had done something untoward.

"Hey! All I did was take advantage of a bankruptcy sale, Soph! This place used to belong to Dartford Racers. This was a tax write-off for Hardy Bushman, sayin' he used it for clients, but really it was a hidey-hole away from his business in Sidney. When the dumb schmuck went to prison, his company an' holdings were sold off an' I thought the house would come in handy … y'know … for the new team." Hardison feigned innocence. "Maybe. Or us. For business," he added hopefully, looking around at his compatriots. Nate was sure butter would not have melted in the young man's mouth.

"I like the high ceilings," Parker said as she perused the beamed vaults.

Hardison nodded benignly.

"Don't you worry babe," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "I'll be installin' places for your rigs as soon as I got the other stuff done," and dug out his laptop.

"What other stuff?" Eliot rasped impatiently. He was trying to keep an ear open as the children explored the rest of the house, and he wasn't happy about them being out of sight even though Charlie had wandered outside to check the perimeter.

"One of the things I want to do tonight is finish up the security system an' link it to Wapanjara," Hardison continued, and gestured at some boxes stacked in the entrance hall, all of which appeared to contain electronic equipment.

Well, that was a situation Eliot could live with. He felt the tension in his chest loosen a little.

"Finish, you said? You've already got some of it in place?"

Hardison nodded, understanding Eliot's concerns.

"Yep. The perimeter sensors are in place, an' I got both regular high-end cameras an' a whole bunch of camouflaged infrared an' heat sensor-y hoo-hah just ready to calibrate an' bring on-line. The place has its own secure, encrypted server, an' I got sub-links piggy-backed onto an Australian spy satellite monitored outta Pine Creek." Hardison let loose a snicker of derision. "What the Aussie secret service don't know won't hurt 'em," he added. "It'd take 'em a month of Sundays to find anythin', even if they ever suspected there was stuff there that shouldn't be."

Nate shook his head in wonder.

"Hardison, sometimes you scare me. You know that, right?"

Hardison shrugged.

"Gotta be safe, Nate. Gotta be safe."

Silence reigned for a moment or two, all of them acknowledging the truth of Hardison's words.

"C'mon, you bludgers!" Effie snapped, gimping out of the bedroom she had decided was hers, and dumping her handbag on the pristine surface of the marble-topped kitchen island, she dug about in it and pulled out what looked like an extendible stick. "I want my rotisserie before you buggers find us somewhere nice for lunch, so can we get going?"

"Where the hell did you get that?" Eliot growled and waggled a finger at the little cook. "Those things are illegal here, Eff!"

Effie held up the black telescopic cosh and grimaced.

"Really?" she said, and let loose an evil smile. "I got it from a friend," she added, and extended the cosh just to check that it worked properly. She waved it about for a moment, gauging the heft and reach of the weapon. Deeming it fit for purpose, she collapsed the black steel shaft and stowed it again in her handbag. "Nobody touches my nippers!" she declared, and defied anyone to argue with her.

Sophie stared at Effie for a second or two and then turned to Nate.

"I want one of those, Nate," she said, and her brows drew down defiantly. She turned then to Eliot. "Eliot, I want one of those! You know where to get these things. Get me one, please."

Eliot pinched the brow of his nose in irritation and shook his head.

"You people … you're gonna be the death of me, I swear!" he grumbled, and dropping his small backpack on the couch, he wiped a hand over his face and sighed. "Parker! Get off the damn kitchen surface! It ain't hygienic with your damn boots all over the place!" He sniffed. "There's somethin' wrong with you," he muttered, and looking up the wooden stairs to the mezzanine, he let out a yell.

"Hey, you two! Less noise, an' we gotta go! Now!"

He heard Lizzie and Kip emit explosive giggles of delight, and then the two children almost stumbled down the open-plan steps to the entrance hall, hats in place and Bert and Cec each tucked under their owner's arm. Both children were almost aglow with excitement.

Charlie arrived from his tour of the enormous walled garden and nodded at Eliot. The place was secure and safe enough for now until Hardison finished his electronic wizardry.

"I want ice cream!" Parker breathed in Eliot's ear, which made him twitch. Even after all these years, she could still get the drop on him once in a while. Nate grinned at Eliot's obvious discomfort, and touched Sophie's arm.

"Are you ready for some retail therapy?" he asked, but before she could answer Eliot straightened, alarmed.

"Wait. What?" He shook his head, and gestured at the whole group. "Nope. No splittin' up. We either all go together or we don't go at all," he said savagely and his eyebrows drew down into a patent Spencer Death Glare. "If you think I'm gonna run myself into an early grave tryin' to keep an eye on you fools as you head off into the wild blue yonder on your own, then you're friggin' delusional!"

Effie blatantly ignored Eliot's outsized protective streak, and rummaging about in her voluminous handbag, she brought out what appeared to be a couple of old socks filled with sand. She tossed one to Sophie, who only just managed to catch it, and offered the other to Parker, who shook her head with a smile.

"I've brought Mister Zappy," she hummed happily. "He has new batteries and everything, so he's ready to go!" she added, and pulled a neat little taser from her backpack.

Effie, who obviously approved wholeheartedly of Mister Zappy, gave the young woman a wolfish grin. Sophie swung the heavy sock, knotted at one end, gauging the weight and heft of the makeshift cosh. A slow, happy smile spread over her beautiful features, and she slid the sock into her shoulder bag.

Nate watched his wife with awe and then turned to Effie.

"What about us men? Don't we get anything?" he asked, feeling a little left out.

Effie let out a guffaw of derision.

"Don't be such bloody wimps!" she rasped, "any bastard that comes after us'll be focusing on you blokes, and you're perfectly able to bash heads, clever-clogs. You distract 'em, and they'll ignore us, y'see. All they'll see is a pretty clothes-horse, a skinny little blonde and a fat old lady with bad feet. They won't be expecting us to give 'em a whack on the noggin or a bash in the goolies with a sap. Anyway, I only brought two." Effie pulled back her lips in what apparently was meant to be a snarling grin. She offered the sock to Hardison. "Here, sunbeam. On second thoughts, stick that in a pocket. It might come in handy, hey?"

Hardison numbly took the hefty sand-filled sock and frowned.

"Eff … I don't need this. I can take care of myself," he grumbled, flexing his free fist, "I can throw a punch!" He ignored Eliot's snort and turned to stare at the hitter. "Hey! I've saved your sorry butt a time or two, man!"

"Dream on, Hardison!" Eliot taunted, "anyway … all you got do is give 'em a sock on the jaw, huh." He chuckled and gave the hacker the leery grin the young man detested with a vengeance. "Get it? A sock on the jaw?"

"Har-de-har-har," Hardison deadpanned, "sooo funny. Yeah, right." he scoffed, absently rubbing the healed knife wound in his left shoulder, and then thought about it. Maybe a sock-cosh might be useful. He slipped it into his bag alongside his laptop. "If it stops me takin' another knife for you, then hell, why not?" he said, his handsome face aloof.

"Don't you start that 'I took a knife for you' crap, you idiot!" Eliot rasped, "Hadan meant to stick you with it in the first place!" His lip curled. "Serves you right for pissin' her off –"

"Are we going now?" Kip asked, standing next to his father and looking exasperated. "Grandpa Soapy said we had to look at a bulldozer!" he added eagerly, and Lizzie nodded, backing up her friend.

"Bulldozers are cool!" she said, and hugged Cec to her chest, breathless with anticipation. "Can we sit in it?"

Eliot looked around at these people he loved and would die for.

"You people drive me friggin' nuts," he declared with a finality that made them smile, and turning on his heel, he led them all out into dappled sunlight and the promise of a busy day.

LEVERAGE

The ensuing argument in the minibus lasted a mere two minutes and forty-seven seconds precisely.

It quickly became obvious to Eliot that the group had no intention of being herded en masse around Alice Springs just so that the hitter could keep them under his hawk-like gaze. So, with a lot of growling, scowls, finger-waggling and dire warnings of lethal consequences if anyone – especially the children – did anything even remotely dumb, it was decided that Sophie and Nate would have a Lizzie-free morning to finish their Christmas shopping and explore the vibrant centre of indigenous art in this heart of Australia. Hardison and Parker would accompany Effie to the huge retail warehouse to look not only at rotisseries but also appliances for the new kitchen at Alinjirri. It was no surprise to anyone when the children decided they would accompany Eliot and Charlie to look over a nearly-new bulldozer needed for both cattle stations.

Eliot ran the logistics through his mental 'just-how-dangerous-can-it-get' calculator, deemed the plan barely workable but the best he could do under the circumstances, and nodded reluctantly.

By the time Charlie had found the warehouse where Effie would choose her rotisserie, the decision was made.

Hardison helped Effie out of the bus and waited for Parker to join them. Effie straightened to her full five feet in height, stuck out her bristly chin and hefted her voluminous handbag. Her RAAF hat sat raffishly on her grey hair, and her muddy eyes gleamed in anticipation.

"Right, you two!" she declared to Hardison and Parker. "Let's see if we can make these sales buggers dance to the beat of our bloody drum!"

And off she went, her bunions not slowing her down in the least.

Parker poked Hardison, who was standing watching Effie's back as the little cook marched through the automatic doors.

"C'mon," she said with a grin. "I think this is going to be fun!" And she headed happily after Effie.

"Man," Hardison pondered, clutching his laptop to his chest, "this is goin' to be a frikkin' car wreck." He beamed. "Effie's on a roll!"

And off he went, wondering just what Effie was planning, and strode after Effie and Parker.

"God help the sales staff," Sophie whispered, and then tugged Nate's sleeve. "C'mon, you. I have shopping to do. I hope your arms are up to it," she added, her perfect lips curved into an impish smile.

Nate closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.

"Oh joy." Opening one eye, he perused Eliot. "It's a good job Alice isn't that big a place. With luck, she'll run out of places to shop." He pointed along the street. "Just along there, right?" Seeing Eliot's curt nod, he took Sophie's arm and entwined it with his. "We'll see you all at the restaurant. Come along, dear," he added, sounding suspiciously like Soapy Munro, and tugging Sophie along the wide street, the pair of them disappeared around a corner.

Eliot chewed his lip for a second, and then decided worrying wasn't getting a bulldozer looked-at, so gesturing at the two children to get back in the minibus, he had a quick peruse of the area but saw nothing to alarm him and send his mental sirens into overdrive.

"C'mon, Charlie. Let's go look at this bulldozer. And you two!" He pointed at the children as they fastened their safety belts, "You stay close, y'hear me? No wanderin' about, no runnin' haywire or lookin' at stuff without us. You see anythin' hinky you let us know, okay?"

Kip's eyes widened.

"You mean … like a spy, or a ninja or … or a …" he struggled a little, and thought hard.

"A bad guy," Lizzie whispered conspiratorially.

Kip nodded vigorously.

"Yeah! A bad guy!" he reiterated, and both children stared at Eliot with expectant looks.

Eliot ran his fingers through his hair, his patience quota almost used up for the day.

"Yeah … bad guys," he grunted, and ignoring Charlie's chuckle of amusement, he got into the passenger seat, slammed the door shut and scowled at no-one in particular.

Charlie was still grinning as he put the minibus into gear and drove around the corner and into the heavy Christmas traffic.

LEVERAGE

The bulldozer turned out to be exactly not what they wanted. Advertised as fully serviced and in good working order, the dealer had not mentioned the worn sprockets, and when Charlie crawled about looking at the undercarriage, he stood up and shook his head at Eliot.

"This bugger's been working near the sea, hey?" he asked the salesman, a slippery-looking fellow with a thin comb-over. "The chassis's almost eaten through near the axles 'cause of the salt and the fuel tank's full of bloody dents! What the hell has this thing been doing?"

The saleman let out a blustering huff and began to prattle on about regular servicing and how the machine had been well-maintained. Charlie in his turn, knowing the salesman was trying to out-talk him simply because he was an aborigine, swallowed his annoyance at the bigotry and began to explain exactly what was wrong with the bulldozer.

Eliot left him to it. The salesman didn't know that Charlie was a highly trained mechanic and had been working with heavy machinery since he was a boy and knew the failings of such vehicles. Charlie Jakkamarra didn't need any help from Eliot as he told the salesman the price was twice what the machine was worth, and that he wouldn't touch the thing with a bargepole. The children stood by and watched, mesmerised, as Charlie took the salesman's feeble declarations and eruditely destroyed them.

Eliot's attention began to wander, and he looked around the huge sales lot, running an eye over the lines of bulldozers, tractors and farming equipment. There was nothing that really caught his fancy, but just as he was about to butt in and growl at the salesman, he saw the mere glimpse of something large hidden at the rear of the lot among older, bargain-basement tractors. His brow furrowed, and intrigued, he took a few steps to his right so that he could see more of the vehicle. He studied it for a moment or two, and then tapped Lizzie on the shoulder.

"C'mon, you two. You're with me. Charlie? Back in a minute," he called, and the station manager waved a lazy hand as he began to explain to the forlorn-looking salesman about the problem with bushed sprockets.

The children, who were a little reluctant to miss Charlie's take-down of the salesman, wandered after Eliot as he made his way over to the still-partially hidden machine.

It turned out to be a veritable beast of a bulldozer. It was big, menacing and painted an anonymous beige, and the cab was covered in heavy plating. The door too was reinforced, and the caterpillar tracking was military standard. It looked as though it hadn't been driven for a while. Brown grass stuck up between the track plates and the whole vehicle was covered in a film of reddish dust.

"Wow!" Kip whispered, and tugged at Eliot's sleeve. "Can we have that one?"

Eliot crouched down beside the tracking, and studied it closely.

Kip and Lizzie peered at the tracking too, scrutinising it carefully.

"Hmmm …" Eliot said.

"Hmmm …" said Kip and Lizzie, both of them nodding sagely.

Eliot straightened and walked slowly around the bulldozer, running a hand over the blade connections, looking for rust and wear. Kip and Lizzie grabbed hold of the edge of the huge bucket and tried to waggle it. It didn't move, although their combined weights would have made little impact on the formidable span of metal.

"Any rust over there?" Eliot asked, pointing at the teeth, and the children checked each and every metal spike on the lower edge of the bucket, to see if they were loose. Every one of them was declared clean and rust-free. Eliot moved on to the hydraulics. While there was oily gunk rimming the links there didn't appear to be any leaks. Eliot tried the cab door, and finding it unlocked, he clambered inside and perused the interior. The cladding on the cab had protected it from the worst of the dust, and while the gear levers, steering wheel and seat were worn with use, they had obviously been well-cared for.

Eliot leaned out of the door.

"Kip!" he yelled. "Go get your dad! I think we got us a 'dozer!"

"YES!" Kip yelled, punching the air, and the little boy ran off to get his father.

Lizzie watched Eliot clamber down from the cab, and she clutched Cec to her chest while studying Eliot with round, excited eyes.

"Can we buy this one?" she gasped, and ran a tentative hand over the huge, military-standard tracking. "She's beautiful!"

Eliot hunkered down beside her and looked at the bulldozer, thinking.

"Maybe, 'Lizbeth Grace. Maybe. See, she's ex-Australian Army. See the heavy plating and the colour? That kinda brownish colour? It's sand-coloured for a reason. It means she's been used in the desert. … it's a very distinctive camouflage. She may look a bit beat-up, but she'll have been looked after and serviced, and anythin' wore-out replaced. She's just here because she's too old and sold on even if she's in good workin' order."

Lizzie frowned and patted the bulldozer's track plates.

"But … but she's still okay, right? She can come home with us and work at Wapanjara? Grandpa will look after her properly, won't he?"

Eliot suddenly flashed Lizzie his Lizzie-smile, the half-hitch of his lips that made his eyes crinkle with humour.

"Well, don't set your heart on her just yet. Charlie needs to give her the once-over and we don't even know if her engine's workin'. But if Charlie says yes and the price is right then maybe … maybe we'll buy her."

Lizzie let out a little squeak of delight and flung herself at Eliot, hugging him from behind, her head burrowed into the hollow of his neck.

"Good-oh!" she whispered, thrilled, and patted Eliot's chest with her Cec-holding hand. "I'm going to call her Myrtle!"

To be continued …

LEVERAGE

* CWA – The Country Women's Association. Various individual groups have been around since the 1920s. During World War II, the CWA provided meals for the troops at Tennant Creek, their efforts being rated one of the best voluntary wartime services in Australia. CWA members also made camouflage nets and knitted balaclavas and socks for the troops. They still are a force to be reckoned with in the 21st century, supporting everything from education, women's rights, and children's health and well-being. Members are also renowned for baking a damn good scone.