nodded. ‘That’s what I’m hoping.’
Even when her husband had been alive, she’d never been a sit-on-her-hands type of woman. When Dean and the stockmen had mustered cattle she’d often joined them. She loved soaking in the great outdoors, even the dust and the flies that came with droving the big-humped Brahmans.
Now with her old bay mare retired and grazing peacefully in the home paddock with a handful of other aged mounts, Clarissa needed a work horse ASAP.
Brandon’s dark-brown eyes warmed with a smile that flashed white teeth and twin dimples. ‘If you want to take her for a ride, I’ll be taking out Buck tomorrow and checking the water levels of Redclaw River.’ His expression sobered. ‘If we don’t get any rain soon …’
He didn’t need to say it. The water supply was getting drastically low. Already five dams and two bores had run dry, and she was fearful every other day that the last of the bores, which were scattered strategically around the property to fill the troughs, would also dry out. The river evaporating would be the final kick in the guts.
She’d been born and raised in the tiny town of Milpinyani Springs, and had never once known Redclaw River—which ran through the town and many of the stations—to be at such critically low levels.
She cleared her throat. ‘Sure, I’d love that.’ She’d focus on riding Gem. There wasn’t a lot she could do with the water situation, except pray for rain like every other resident in Milpinyani Springs and the surrounding areas.
The sudden far-off roar of a motorbike broke the still air, and Brandon’s teeth flashed stark white against his tanned face. ‘Sounds like Adam’s here.’ He arched a dark brow. ‘We might have to make that ride tomorrow a threesome.’
Her breath hissed, before she sucked the oxygen right back into her lungs. Her hormones were damn near out of control to hear the word threesome as something so intimate.
Damn, she really needed to get laid so she could get on with her life again!
Brandon chuckled. ‘I guarantee he won the Milpinyani Springs bull riding purse … even if it half-killed him to do it.’
The rodeo was the biggest event on the calendar for Milpinyani Springs, but with her station taking up so much time and effort, she’d only managed to stay for half a day to watch the campdrafting and barrel races. She hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the renowned bull rider.
As the roar of the motorbike—a Harley—closed in, Brandon slipped off Gem’s bridle and unlatched the nearby gate to let himself out of the round yard. Clarissa fell into step beside him, and they traversed the short stretch to the homestead’s driveway of compressed gravel, which helped keep the dust at bay.
She swept a quick, assessing glance to the right, where the far-off cattle yards stood vacant, as did the stockmen’s housing that was only a hundred yards away from the homestead. The men were out checking the cattle and fences, along with the bores and pasture. They’d probably be gone for a few days at least.
The station’s three working dogs, red kelpies with attitude, pulled themselves from under the shade of a quad bike and ran toward the Harley, barking furiously.
Brandon whistled the dogs and, as one, they turned and obediently loped back to his side. She smiled wryly. The man really did have a way about him. Come mustering time, the kelpies would once again be indispensable under his command.
Brandon gave the adoring kelpies a pat and then sent them back to their shady resting spot. But Clarissa’s attention was already diverted by the silenced Harley and its rider.
Adam swung a leg off his bike and unwound his long frame to his full, magnificent height. Wow. He wasn’t the short, wiry bull rider she’d expected; he was at least six-foot-two of lean muscle mass and broad shoulders. Then he pulled off his helmet and her mouth dropped open.
A black leather jacket contrasted vividly to his sun-streaked blond
Even when her husband had been alive, she’d never been a sit-on-her-hands type of woman. When Dean and the stockmen had mustered cattle she’d often joined them. She loved soaking in the great outdoors, even the dust and the flies that came with droving the big-humped Brahmans.
Now with her old bay mare retired and grazing peacefully in the home paddock with a handful of other aged mounts, Clarissa needed a work horse ASAP.
Brandon’s dark-brown eyes warmed with a smile that flashed white teeth and twin dimples. ‘If you want to take her for a ride, I’ll be taking out Buck tomorrow and checking the water levels of Redclaw River.’ His expression sobered. ‘If we don’t get any rain soon …’
He didn’t need to say it. The water supply was getting drastically low. Already five dams and two bores had run dry, and she was fearful every other day that the last of the bores, which were scattered strategically around the property to fill the troughs, would also dry out. The river evaporating would be the final kick in the guts.
She’d been born and raised in the tiny town of Milpinyani Springs, and had never once known Redclaw River—which ran through the town and many of the stations—to be at such critically low levels.
She cleared her throat. ‘Sure, I’d love that.’ She’d focus on riding Gem. There wasn’t a lot she could do with the water situation, except pray for rain like every other resident in Milpinyani Springs and the surrounding areas.
The sudden far-off roar of a motorbike broke the still air, and Brandon’s teeth flashed stark white against his tanned face. ‘Sounds like Adam’s here.’ He arched a dark brow. ‘We might have to make that ride tomorrow a threesome.’
Her breath hissed, before she sucked the oxygen right back into her lungs. Her hormones were damn near out of control to hear the word threesome as something so intimate.
Damn, she really needed to get laid so she could get on with her life again!
Brandon chuckled. ‘I guarantee he won the Milpinyani Springs bull riding purse … even if it half-killed him to do it.’
The rodeo was the biggest event on the calendar for Milpinyani Springs, but with her station taking up so much time and effort, she’d only managed to stay for half a day to watch the campdrafting and barrel races. She hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the renowned bull rider.
As the roar of the motorbike—a Harley—closed in, Brandon slipped off Gem’s bridle and unlatched the nearby gate to let himself out of the round yard. Clarissa fell into step beside him, and they traversed the short stretch to the homestead’s driveway of compressed gravel, which helped keep the dust at bay.
She swept a quick, assessing glance to the right, where the far-off cattle yards stood vacant, as did the stockmen’s housing that was only a hundred yards away from the homestead. The men were out checking the cattle and fences, along with the bores and pasture. They’d probably be gone for a few days at least.
The station’s three working dogs, red kelpies with attitude, pulled themselves from under the shade of a quad bike and ran toward the Harley, barking furiously.
Brandon whistled the dogs and, as one, they turned and obediently loped back to his side. She smiled wryly. The man really did have a way about him. Come mustering time, the kelpies would once again be indispensable under his command.
Brandon gave the adoring kelpies a pat and then sent them back to their shady resting spot. But Clarissa’s attention was already diverted by the silenced Harley and its rider.
Adam swung a leg off his bike and unwound his long frame to his full, magnificent height. Wow. He wasn’t the short, wiry bull rider she’d expected; he was at least six-foot-two of lean muscle mass and broad shoulders. Then he pulled off his helmet and her mouth dropped open.
A black leather jacket contrasted vividly to his sun-streaked blond
Similar Books
