A Dusty Road To Peace: A Peace Series Novella

by Tee Smith

  A Dusty Road to Peace

  Tee Smith

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Also by Tee Smith

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  A Dusty Road to Peace

  Tee Smith

  2018 ©

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Leticia Sidon

  Cover by; Susan Garwood- Wicked Women Designs

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Forcing the tip of his boot into the hard ground, a plume of dust escaped into the air. Clancy shook his head from side to side and looked to the heavens.

  “I don’t think it’s going to rain anytime soon, Dad.”

  His father grunted in response.

  It had been a dry year. In fact, the past three years had been dry. He knew it was a rugged country, he knew the area was drought-stricken. How long they could stay on the land without a decent rain was anyone’s guess.

  With a snuffle Shadow, his trusty steed, nuzzled his neck.

  “I know, Shadow. Pretty grim isn’t it boy?”

  “Well,” muttered the old man, stoic in defeat. “We better get the last of this mob into the yards before sunset. They aren’t going to move themselves.”

  Booting the stirrup, Clancy swung his leg up and over Shadow and they moved out toward the east.

  Dusty Downs station, in the north-eastern part of Western Australia, was more than four-hundred kilometres from the nearest town. It was the only home Clancy had ever known. The property had been passed down to his father, and his father before him. Cattle and horses were all he knew. His schooling had been through school of the air, a remote class-room that he connected to over the phone once a week from Alice Springs, except for the few occasions they had a teacher passing through.

  “Ya, Ya!” Clancy cried, spurring Shadow on, as they rounded the mob.

  They would need to get these cattle into the yards before nightfall. They had spent two days driving them back toward the homestead. In just a few short days the truck would arrive to transfer them back to Broome for live-export. It had been a hard slog in the summer heat. He was not sure how much longer his dad would want to run the property, and he was not sure he was ready to take on the responsibility. His younger sister had left two years ago for the city. Found a suit and married him. His father had been none too impressed. Clancy couldn’t say he blamed his sister for leaving. The Kimberly was no place for a woman.

  “Bring em’ round Clance,” his father called.

  He did as instructed, with minimal fuss as they finally herded the mob into the yard and closed the gates behind them. It would be great to have a hot shower and sleep in his bed tonight. The dust-caked his skin and his stomach groaned at the thought of sitting down to a hot meal. This was not a bad life, but not one he would have chosen for himself. The isolation. The dust. The loneliness.

  “So, I hope you are planning on coming back from this trip,” his mother chided, over the dinner table that evening. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

  “Of course, Mum. I can’t imagine leaving Australia permanently and besides…” his eyes flicked to his dad, “I think Dad would hunt me down.”

  His father huffed, and he brushed it off, he knew the older man didn’t want him going away.

  “He’s just as proud of you as I am, son, don’t worry about him.”

  Clancy had won the Australian Bull Riding Championships two years running, so when he was approached and invited to do a short U.S tour, he jumped at the chance. He had made a few dollars out of riding over the years, but the money wasn’t his motivation. It was the sport he loved and was passionate about.

  He had worked cattle his entire life. His mum proudly displayed photos of him and his sister astride the cattle yards, tiny Akubras on their heads. He guessed he was about four and his sister two.

  “You’ll come back with stars in your eyes and think you want to move to the big smoke like your sister.”

  “Dad,” he groaned. “I’m twenty-eight years old. I should have left home years ago. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  “Well, who’s going to take over the station when I get old if you don’t?”

  “No one is talking about leaving, Jack.” His mum, ever the peacemaker soothed. “Let’s not go getting all hot under the collar about something that may or may not even happen.”

  Rising from the table, he allowed his chair to slide heavily along the slate floors, cringing as the sound grated up his spine.

  “I think Sister was the smart one.”

  “Now son,” his mother interjected. “You know your father only wants what’s best for you.”

  “No mum,” he shook his head vehemently from side to side. “Dad wants what’s good for the station.” With that, he made his way to his room. He had things to pack. He was leaving early in the morning to get on a plane to Perth, which in-turn would take him all the way to America. Away from his father and Dusty Downs. He could hardly wait.

  His mother had always been supportive of his bull-riding. His father thought it ridiculous. Real men work on the land and all that nonsense. He was a ‘my way or the highway’ kind of man. Only he was not prepared to let Clancy have a highway option.

  2

  The plane finally touched down at Billings Logan airport. The last leg of the flight had not been too bad, he’d had a window seat, and the passenger beside him had not said more beyond the initial greeting. Unlike the long-haul from Melbourne to Los Angeles. If the woman beside him had just been quiet for more than five minutes, he was sure he could have handled it better. Even when he covered his ears with the dodgy airline headphones, she didn’t stop talking. It made him wish he had invested in the expensive noise reducing ones he’d seen at the airport, whilst waiting to board.

  “Enjoy your stay,” the hostess smiled at him as he exited the plane.

  Of that he planned. As soon as he managed to get a few good hours sleep under his belt. He tipped his hat to her, eliciting a giggle. He knew he had that effect on women. Especially the city girls. They all loved a cowboy.

  Making his way to the carousel to collect his bag, he scanned the small crowd of people waiting to collect their loved ones. Some people fell into each other’s arms, obviously overjoyed at having someone return home or arrive for a visit. Others shook hands. Others still, like himself, went about collecting their baggage with no loved one to greet them.

  He scanned the now dwindling crowd. There was no sign of Cody, no one appeared to be waiting for him. Maybe he was just running late.

  He slid his phone from his jean pocket and flipped to his email. He had no coverage and made a mental note to pick up a local sim card. Luckily he could still access past messages, and it definitely read Pick-up 3pm on Monday the 18th June at Billings Logan International Airport. So, where was he?

  Taking a seat on a park bench at the front of the terminal, he rested his head in his hand. It had been too many hours without sleep. Cody had probably been caught up doing whatever it was he did. Cowboys were alw
ays unreliable.

  “Hey buddy, you can’t stay here,” came a deep voice, as someone shook his shoulder.

  He blinked a few times, as he struggled to reorientate himself with where he was. He had travelled through five cities in the past thirty hours, he could be anywhere.

  “I’m ah… waiting for a ride,” he stammered out when he could finally get his words to work again.

  “Well, that may be so, but this is not a homeless shelter. Now beat it.” The man looked down at him menacingly.

  “Ah… I’m not, I’m ahh…” his brain felt like mush and his scrambled thoughts were not coming out clearly or fast enough.

  “Whatever,” the security man huffed out. “Just get moving, yeah?”

  “Which way is Peace?” he asked, wiping the sleep from his tired eyes.

  “Peace?” the rotund man quizzed. His eyes narrowed, and bushy brows rose towards his receding hairline.

  “Yeah, I’m heading to Peace,” Clancy confirmed with a nod of his head, that was slowly starting to clear.

  “That way,” he gestured with a wave of an arm. “You’ll need to head east into Billings and then out towards Laurel.”

  Clancy snagged the handle of his bag and rose to his feet.

  “Thanks,” he smiled and turned to walk in the direction that was indicated.

  “You might want to take a cab or a bus,” he called to his back as he walked away. “Peace is far from here.”

  Clancy raised his hand and gave the man a wave without looking back. He was not afraid of a walk. If he got lucky, he might be able to thumb a ride. Life out on the station was hard work. A few miles walk wasn’t going to kill him. Anyway, it would be good to stretch his legs after all those hours cooped up in those tiny seats on the plane. Standing five foot ten, he found it uncomfortable; he hated to imagine how much worse it must be for a taller man.

  It was not long until he had passed through the township and headed out toward Laurel as instructed. Several cars whizzed by on their way to wherever their lives might take them. He liked to imagine what jobs people did and the kinds of homes they lived in; it passed away the time.

  He must have walked for several miles before the traffic started to thin out, his feet were starting to ache. He hadn’t worn the best shoes for hiking, it had not been part of his original travel itinerary. The sun was beginning to sink ahead of him, so he pulled his hat down lower to avoid the glare in his eyes. When the sound of another car approached, he extended a hand, expecting the same result as before. He was beginning to wonder if Americans had something against hitchhikers when he noticed the tail lights of the passing car turning red as they slowed to a stop ahead of him. Slinging his swag over his shoulder, he jogged toward the car. Finally.

  On his approach, he noticed a single person in the car. It was odd to see the driver on the left-hand side of the vehicle. Of course, he had known to expect it, but it still seemed strange, coming from Australia and landing here, where everyone spoke English, and yet everything was so foreign.

  He swung the passenger door open of the tiny car, he couldn’t be sure what kind of car it even was, other than something girly. It didn’t matter, he reasoned a second-class ride was always better than a first class walk.

  Peering in, he noticed a girl. She was more than just a girl. Her gorgeous smile hit him first. She was a beautiful woman. Long blonde hair, long tanned legs protruding from Daisy Duke shorts. It looked like he’d hit the jackpot of hitchhiker rides.

  “Where you headed?” she called out.

  “Peace,” he responded with a smile, secretly hoping she was going all the way.

  Without waiting for a reply, he climbed into the vehicle and buckled himself into the passenger seat.

  “Perfect, me too.” She smiled, pushing the gearshift forward into the drive position, as she peered over her shoulder before peeling back out onto the highway.

  “It’s quite a way to Peace. Where are you coming from?” she asked chewing the edge of her perfect plump lip.

  “The airport,” he responded, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Just got in. I think my ride forgot me.”

  “Too bad for him,” she giggled a slight tinge of pink rising in her cheeks. “I’m Bailey, by the way,” she offered, never taking her hands from the steering wheel.

  “Clancy,” he retorted, removing his hat and placing it on his lap. Bringing an arm up, he wiped at the beads of sweat that had formed along his hair-line and hoped he didn’t smell too bad. He was fairly confident his twenty-four-hour deodorant had worn off some six hours ago. What he wouldn’t give for a shower and a hot date with a cake of soap.

  “Where are you from?” Bailey asked, her gaze stitching between him and the open the road. “Is that an Australian accent I detect?”

  “Sure is,” he responded with a wink. This trip was going to be too easy, women were going to be putty in his hands.

  “Can you say, G’day mate?” she asked excitedly. The words sounding hilarious as she tried to emulate his accent.

  Letting out a low chuckle, he followed it up with a genuine, “G’day mate,” which was met with more excitement and giggles on her behalf.

  “So what brings you to Peace, Clancy? It’s not exactly the hottest tourist destination in America.”

  “Bull-riding, actually.”

  “Oh, you’re a bull-rider,” she squealed. The car swerved across the wide double lane highway as she jumped with delight in her seat.

  “Hey, watch it there,” he admonished, thankful there were no other vehicles on the road. He was quite accustomed to the dangers of bull-riding, women drivers he was not so sure about.

  “Are you staying for Founder’s Day?” She asked as she righted her vehicle.

  “Yes ma’am, that’s the plan. Founder’s Day then I will be moving on to North Dakota, South Dakota, then down to Colorado before heading back home.”

  “Wow, that sounds awesome. I wish I could travel,” she sighed wistfully. “But you know… Peace is it for me.”

  He understood how people got stuck in a rut. After his big adventure, he would be back home on the station, remembering his heydays of bull-riding in the States. One day, he’d probably settle down and marry one of the back-backers that wasn’t too awful and prepare to take on the station. It was just the way life was. For the moment though, he had plans to soak up every opportunity he could and commit them all to memory. He would have a bank of experiences to recall during the long lonely nights while out mustering.

  “So these are your new digs,” Bailey announced, bringing the car to a stop at the front of an old building.

  Leaning forward in his seat, Clancy looked up at the old building. “Home for now,” he breathed out before turning to his driver. “Well, thank you very much for the ride, Bailey. It was a pleasure meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you again whilst I’m in town.”

  “I hope so,” she offered with a smile.

  Snagging his belongings, he gave Bailey a smile and wave. Maybe he had actually gotten lucky with Cody not turning up to get him, after all. Who knew?

  3

  Waking in a strange bed was always the biggest downfall of travelling. Of course, he never minded if there was a beautiful woman at his side, but alas, he woke alone. Laying back in on the pillows he took in the room. The place was old but had been refurbished. He guessed within the past few years. A new lick of paint had obviously been used to freshen the aged walls, if he looked closely, he was sure he could see the brush strokes above the door-frame.

  Rolling to his side, he was surprised to see the clock on the bedside reading 11:30. It seemed jet-lag had bitten him harder than he realised. His mother would be horrified. A smile played across his lips as he thought of his mother; she was a good woman. A hard-working woman, fiercely loyal to her husband. He only hoped that one day he would be lucky enough to find a woman as loving as her. She’d endured a lot over the years. Life on the land was not an easy road.

  Scrubbing a hand over his
face, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. They had advertised bed and breakfast; he wondered if that meant breakfast all day. After all, it was almost lunch-time. He planned to get fed, then head off into town to see what this little town called Peace had to offer.

  “Well, hello there,” the B & B owner, Stella, called out to him. He had met her last night when he arrived. “I’m glad to see you up and about. I was beginning to worry about you.”

  “Ah, yeah, sorry. Bit of jet-lag,” he sighed as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, sitting in the straight-back chair of the plane for all those hours had not done him any favors. Ironically, he would happily roll out a swag and sleep under the stars back home, after sitting in a saddle all day. But being forced to spend twelve hours sitting on a plane was a special kind of torture all on its own.

  “You’ll be right as rain in a few days,” Stella chuckled. “Now, if you want some breakfast, the kitchen is closed, but lunch will be served shortly if you want to wait. I’m sorry, we don’t stock vegemite.”

  Clancy laughed at the way vegemite sounded rolling off her tongue. “It’s fine, honestly. I’m sure I’ll survive.” He shot her a wink and made for the small dining area in search of his late breakfast, early lunch.

  With his hunger sated, he headed out into the street. From what he could determine looking at the map, the whole town would fit several times over on his piece of home soil, but then most towns in Australia could for that matter. He inhaled a deep breath, even the air smelled different. He couldn’t pin what the scent was, maybe a nearby flower in bloom. Or perhaps it was the scent of anticipation of what lay ahead.