by Magro, Mandy
With her eyes on the bull, Sarah was taken by surprise when a large cow rushed by her after breaking free. She felt Victory take off before she had time to pull him back. He got past the cow in no time and spun round at full gallop to face it. Sarah barely had time to register what he was doing, before she felt herself start to slip in the saddle. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around his neck and grabbed handfuls of his mane. Her quick response was the only thing that saved her from hitting the dirt below face-first. As Victory and the cow were facing each other off, she had a few seconds to regain her composure, securing her boots in the stirrups and grabbing control of the reins. The cow backed up, lowing defiantly, and then turned with a dismissive flick of its tail. Sarah proudly gave Victory a rub on the head. ‘Good boy! You could’ve warned me first, though, buddy, but I suppose it’s in your blood to muster.’
‘Thanks, Sarah!’ Slim hollered. ‘You’ve got yourself a good horse there, mate. You can tell he’s done that a few times before!’
Sarah grinned. She was still pumping from the rush of chasing the cow. She would have to come out more often and get some experience mustering. With Victory beneath her, she knew she had a good teacher to show her the way it was done.
Eventually the cattle seemed to calm down and one of the older cows came out the front of the mob and took the lead, clearly remembering where they were going, and that in the cattleyards there would be water and food. Occasionally a cow would still try and break ranks with one last desperate bid for freedom, only to be pushed back. Sarah felt her confidence grow as she had a few goes bringing the wayward cattle back into the mob, glancing up to see Matt lifting his hat and nodding at her from the other side of the herd with an impressed look on his face.
It was lunchtime when they finally reached the cattleyards, and Sarah could feel her belly rumbling like mad. For lunch she’d made some homemade pumpkin scones and jam, fruitcake she’d whipped up the night before and plenty of chicken and coleslaw sandwiches. After eating her fill, Sarah was ready for a nap. Her bones were already aching and she knew she’d be sore tonight. She found a shady place under a tree and settled down, swatting at the flies that clung to every bead of sweat on her body. Swearing under her breath, she pulled her hat down so she could at least rest without them all over her face. Within seconds she was asleep.
A sudden icy sensation shocked Sarah awake, and she gasped in surprise. She was covered in water.
Liam stood in front of her, beaming proudly and holding an empty water bottle. ‘Now that’s how you wake a sleeping princess!’
‘You’re a turd, Liam!’ Sarah growled, still trying to figure out if she was angry or amused. ‘I’ll get you back when you least expect it, mate!’
‘There’ll be plenty of time for that later. We have heaps of work to do, and the clock is ticking!’ Liam called as he headed for the mob of cattle huddling in the yard.
Sarah spent the afternoon by Matt’s side, helping him brand the cattle as they went through the crush. Within half an hour her shirt was clinging to her body with sweat, hugging every curve. She pushed on throughout the day, working hard, trying to ignore the screaming aches and pains. She firmly set her mind on the task at hand in a bid to distract herself from the pain. By four o’clock, the skin on her hands had acquired deep splits that were beginning to bleed, and her body felt like it had aged a hundred years from all the sun exposure. Her back had started to throb unrelentingly and she knew it was only her determination driving her on. She did her best to keep smiling, trying not to let Matt see she was hurting. Occasionally he’d look up at her and smile, nodding admiringly at the way she handled the conditions.
For his part, Matt was amazed at how hard Sarah worked, and with a smile on her face the whole time. He was learning to ignore the strange whisperings at the back of his mind – the urge to touch her, to feel her sweet lips against his, to taste her softness. He couldn’t cheat on Brooke. The thought of Brooke sent his thoughts wandering back to last night, and he felt his anger rise as he remembered the fight they’d had. He’d asked her if she wanted to come mustering, and she’d refused. She didn’t want to help out on the station at all – it was a man’s job, according to her, and she wasn’t about to start ruining her skin out in the sun every day. She had not even spoken to him this morning, like it was his fault that she chose to drive herself to boredom by spending her time on the couch watching soaps all day long. Something had to give, but he just didn’t know what – or how.
By six p.m. the team were happy with their efforts, and decided to retire before they had to ride home in the dark. The work had been done with professional precision, and Sarah was amazed by how much she’d learnt over the course of the day. She hosed Victory down while the men did the same for their own horses, and got him settled for the night before heading home for a shower. Sarah stood under the meagre flow in the shower block, washing the dust from her sun-kissed skin and massaging her aching arms gently. It had been an incredible day, and she’d discovered that mustering was addictive. She could only hope there’d be another chance for her to go again soon.
Matt headed back to the granny flat at the homestead, exhausted and filthy. He hoped Brooke might’ve made some dinner, but doubted it. She hasn’t done it yet, so why start now? he grumbled to himself as he stepped through the back door. Brooke was where she normally was, on the couch, watching reruns of Days of our Lives, chocolate wrappers and dirty cups strewn about the coffee table in front of her. Matt felt his temper flare.
‘Hi, Brooke. Hard at work, I see.’
‘Sure am, Matt!’ she answered sarcastically, her eyes remaining glued to the telly.
‘All right, Brooke. I’ve had enough of this crap. I haven’t done anything wrong, other than go off to do an honest day’s work.’
Brooke let out a sigh. ‘I’m bored to death in this hole of a place! You’re never home, always too busy off gallivanting around the countryside. I’m sure there’s not that much to do around here!’
‘Well, Brooke, if you bothered coming out with me for a day you might see just how much there is to do round here. What do you want me to do? I have a station to run, and I can’t leave it all to Dad and Georgia. I’m a cattleman through and through, and I’m not going to change.’
‘I don’t think you should expect me to kill myself out in there in the heat. It’s not a place for a woman to be working.’
Matt felt his temper begin to rise. ‘Sarah doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. And she’s a woman, through and through.’ He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. It was the wrong thing to say.
‘I wouldn’t want to be like Sarah! And what do you mean by “a woman, through and through”? You barely even know her! Or do you?’
Matt quickly changed the topic. ‘Tell you what. Next week I’m going mustering for the whole week. You’re welcome to come with me if you like. Who knows, you might even enjoy it?’
Something unreadable flickered in Brooke’s eyes. She softened, smiling gently at Matt. ‘I’m sorry. I just miss having you around, that’s all. Let me think about the mustering, okay?’
Matt gave her a nod and headed to the bathroom for a shower. His mind was in turmoil. He did care for Brooke, but he just wasn’t sure how much he really loved her any more. I’ll give it another few weeks, he thought to himself; I’ll give her one more chance to prove herself out here.
Chapter Eighteen
THE Toyota that Sarah was driving was packed to the rafters. The men had each put in one bag of personal belongings, plus there were swags, fuel, cooking equipment, water and plenty of food. Sarah had Lee Kernaghan keeping her company in the CD player and she hummed along happily as she dodged cattle, which were parked in the middle of the road, refusing to move like stubborn teenagers who didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning. It was only five a.m. but she’d already been bumping along the uneven dirt road for close to two hours, following the men on their horses. They’d passed through five gates so fa
r and crossed more cattle grids then she could count, but she knew there would still be quite a few to go. The massive ruts in the dirt track were big enough to swallow her tyres whole, and she had to be careful not to slip into any of them – it would put the team way behind schedule if they had to dig the truck out of a ditch.
Despite this, Sarah was living a country girl’s dream. The full moon hovered above her, filling the land with its brilliant luminosity, and Sarah could see for miles and miles across the wide open plain. It was nice to have the men in front of her, their hats on in preparation for the imminent sunrise. While the moon was still visible, it sent silvery light bouncing off their silhouettes, creating a beautiful image that Sarah captured with a click of her camera.
The trip to the first camp for the week’s mustering would take Sarah and the men five hours. Jimmy was the only lucky one still back in bed – it would take him just an hour or so to get there in the chopper. A little pang of disappointment shot through Sarah at the knowledge that she wouldn’t be joining them out in the saddle this time. Her job was to drive the support vehicle, and it was with sadness that she’d left Victory back in the stables. She could swear he was sulking when she said goodbye, his bottom lip drooping at the thought of not going with them all. It was as bad as leaving a child at home when you were off to the rodeo. They had left extra early as Matt wanted to get to the first camp with time to spare so the men could help Sarah set up before heading out to muster the cattle.
By eight o’clock, the sun had well and truly risen, and the group had reached their first destination, a rustic old cattleyard in the middle of nowhere. Sarah just had time to whip up some breakfast before the men left for the day. She set off with Stumpy to find some firewood so they could get the barbecue ready to go. Sarah was surprised at how easy it was to set up camp. It basically involved finding a shaded spot and tossing your swag underneath. The only priority was setting up the camp kitchen. When Sarah and Stumpy returned with arms full of timber, she smiled at the effort the blokes had put in to making the camp comfortable while she was gone. A hammock had been strung between two golden wattle trees so she at least had somewhere shady during the heat of the day where she could lie back and read. It was all she was going to able to do on the long and lonely days she would be at the camp on her own while they were out mustering. Sarah had packed a couple of good books and was looking forward to a bit of rest and relaxation.
Matt stoked up the fire while Sarah filled the billy with water from the drums she’d brought in the back of the Toyota. Once she was done, she hung the billy on a stick and balanced it, somewhat precariously, from two open-ended branches that Liam had pushed into the ground on either side of the fire. While the water boiled she unpacked the box of tin cups, plates and cutlery, placing it all on a wobbly fold-out table that Patrick had set up for her. The battery-operated esky was in prime position on the back of the truck, and Sarah grabbed some eggs and bacon from its icy coolness. By the time she returned with tongs in hand, the barbecue plate Matt had set up was red-hot and ready to go.
Sarah noticed Matt watching her as she kneeled in the dust beside the campfire, cooking breakfast. She wondered how he was feeling about Brooke. They hadn’t spoken about her since that candid moment motorbike mustering, but she knew he was disappointed Brooke hadn’t come on the mustering trip. She’d decided to spend the week back in Mt Isa catching up with friends instead. She really didn’t have any interest in station life, it seemed, and Sarah wondered how a girl like her had ended up with a guy like Matt.
She watched the men saddle up and waved to them on their horses as they headed out for the day’s work. Jimmy had joined them halfway through breakfast, his chopper nearly blowing the camp away when he landed smack down beside them. Now, his chopper was the only way she could tell where the men were – she caught occasional glimpses of it in the air in the distance. She started to tidy up the breakfast plates, washing them in a small tub she had brought along, deciding to let them drip-dry on a tea towel on top of the table.
Sarah found herself pottering around the camp for the next few hours, trying to pass the time. She walked through the cattleyard and cleared the scum off the top of the concrete water tank. She found a few large rocks, which she rolled along the ground to rest near the fire so the men didn’t have to sit on their heels whilst eating. She watched a flock of white cockatoos land on the rails of the cattleyard. They announced their presence loudly and took turns dipping in the coolness of the water tank as if it were a day spa for birds. Sarah tried to get close to them so she could take a photo, finding comfort in their liveliness. The barren land that was to be her home for the next week seemed bereft of life. The birds didn’t take kindly to her approach and flew off into the distance, squawking like a pack of loonies. Deciding there was not much else she could do for now, Sarah plopped herself into the hammock with a book.
A loud bang startled Sarah awake. She sat bolt upright, forgetting she was in a hammock and finding herself up-ended on the ground below with a thump. What the hell was that noise? It had sounded like a gunshot. Her senses were screaming, her eyes searching for the source of the noise. It took a few moments to locate the cause, and when she did, she doubled over in laughter. A can of baked beans had fallen off the card table and rolled into the hot coals of the fire. Once the metal had heated, the can had exploded, and baked beans had spewed everywhere. The gooey tomato sauce dripped from every imaginable place – the bullbar of the truck, the esky, the swags – like the skies had opened and rained baked beans from above. Only out here could something like this happen, she giggled to herself, while she cleaned it all up.
She glanced at her watch for the first time since falling asleep and just about died. Shit, she thought, it’s nearly four o’clock. She must have nodded off for a few hours. Thank God the baked beans had woken her up. She began preparing dinner rapidly – tonight it was hamburgers, made with her secret recipe, followed by fresh damper with loads of butter and oozy golden syrup. Her mouth watered at the very thought of it. Sarah mixed the dough up for the damper and wrapped it in alfoil before placing it to the side, ready to be slid into the camp oven later on.
The men appeared just as the sun was setting, a huge mob of cattle in tow. Sarah watched them ride in perfect formation around the beasts, who were eager to get to the water in the cattleyard. She ran over to open the gates before the mob arrived, keen to help out and eager for company as soon as possible. She was incredibly happy to see the men’s dust-covered faces grinning at her beneath their hats as they walked the cattle into the yard. It had been a lonesome day without them around.
Matt slid down off his horse and walked over to Sarah as she shut the gates behind the mob. ‘How was your day, mate? Hope it wasn’t too boring.’
Sarah swatted at a fly that was hanging off her eyelash like it was a bungy cord. ‘Nah, I had a good day. It even rained baked beans this afternoon.’
The men laughed til they cried as Sarah explained the baked-beans incident. She was delighted to add a bit of sparkle to their day. The damper had turned out even better than she’d hoped, and between them they devoured every last bite, more than one person finding the need to undo the top button of their jeans afterwards.
‘Well, I’m heading yonder to give birth to a brown bear,’ Slim said, standing and stretching.
‘Just make sure you put your belt round the right turd when you’re finished!’ Liam laughed.
Slim shook his head and chuckled as he headed off into the scrub to do his business.
After cleaning up dinner and yarning around the fire, it was time to hit the sack. Sarah slid into her swag, shivering at the freezing temperature, a total contrast to the heat of the day. The way the outback went from one extreme to the other always amazed her. A curlew called eerily in the distance, filling the quiet night with its calls; it sounded more like a woman screaming than a harmless bird. Sarah felt the hair stand up on her neck. She called goodnight to the men, tucked in their swags
around the campfire. A staggered chorus of ‘Goodnight’s sung back at Sarah from various points, and then there was no sound but the low crackle of the embers in the fire. Sarah lay awake for a while longer, staring at the sky above her. It was filled with more stars then she had ever known existed. She fell asleep while silently trying to name them, nodding off at the Southern Cross.
Chapter Nineteen
THE silence was almost deafening, with only the whisper of wind blowing across the dusty plains. Sarah felt like she spent more time swatting flies in the outback than doing almost anything else. She swiped lazily at one as it landed on her singlet, which was stuck to her body with sweat. Her clothes would definitely need a good wash at the station, even though she had hand-washed them in soapy water yesterday and dried them on the bullbar. As she sat there swatting, a kangaroo bounded through the camp, knocking over everything in its way. Sarah smiled to herself, enjoying the distraction. She hoped she could shake the low mood she had woken up with this morning.
It had been six days in the outback filled with monotonous daily rituals, and she was beginning to feel a little loopy from the solitude. The high of the first few days droving soon diminished when she took in the full impact of spending days alone in the middle of nowhere. She had moved camp every day as the men edged closer to the main holding yards back at the homestead, packing up on her own once the men had left and unpacking at the new camp in wait for their arrival home at sunset, but this only killed so much time. She had listened to every song on her iPod at least twice and had read both books she had brought along within three days, leaving her twiddling her thumbs to pass the time. She was tired of lying in the hammock and had spent most of the last couple of days in search of a puddle of muddy water where she could rinse herself off, always wondering afterwards if she stank more instead of less. Her packet of wet wipes had become more valuable to her than gold – on the days she couldn’t find somewhere to bathe, she pulled a couple out of the packet as though they were made of finest silk, and luxuriated in a quick wipe-down. She was craving a long, hot shower and would have given an arm or leg for a can of creamy soda. Water and tea were beginning to dull her tastebuds, and she yearned for something fizzy, icy cold and sweet to trickle down her forever-dry throat. She rolled her eyes at herself – she rarely drank soft drink back in the land of the living, but out here, when you couldn’t get something, it haunted you until you thought you were going to go nuts.
