Stockman’s Stormcloud (Stockmen #3)

Seventeen

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Bree, wearing her welder’s cargo pants, plonked her hands on her hips.

It was midnight, and Dex had been patiently waiting, leaning against the Kombi van, parked in the caretaker’s shed. ‘I’m going to supervise.’

Bree laughed as she effortlessly hooked a trailer to the back of her abominable yellow beast of a vehicle. ‘I don’t need your help, Stormcloud. I put the still in there, I’m getting it out.’

‘To put it where?’ Dragging along his new oxygen trolley, he climbed into the passenger seat, and wound down the window.

‘How about you tell me one of your secrets?’

‘As if.’

‘So why should I share mine?’

‘But you did. And it’s a big one.’ He chuckled. A little one. Even though the rib was still a pain he chose to ignore it.

‘Not for long.’ Bree scoffed, as she grabbed a stack of ropes from the hooks on the shed wall.

‘Do you do horseshoes, too?’

‘Hire a farrier. I don’t work for you boys.’ She climbed into the driver’s seat. ‘Get out.’

‘No. It’s my property. And I want to see what I covered your arse for.’

‘There will be nothing to see when I’m done.’

‘So, what are you waiting on? Daylight?’ He pointed to the darkness where there wasn’t even a moon. ‘You know everyone will hear this pitiful excuse for a vehicle.’

‘Doubt it.’ She turned on the engine that reminded him of a gutless lawnmower. ‘You haven’t heard me yet. And you’ve been living here for how long? Especially you, who lives in a tent, closest to the shed.’

He arched an eyebrow at the red-headed witch steering them towards the shed that made up his workshop. How could he not know about this? ‘We work hard…’

‘Drink hard. And snore like you’re all chopping wood.’ She gave him a fleeting grin from behind the wheel. ‘I’m not judging, Stormcloud, not when I enjoy a jug of gin at sunset, too.’

‘So much so you made a still.’

She shrugged as the large spotlights swept across the back corner of the shed. ‘I have certain tastes, and I enjoy making things.’

She reversed the trailer to park it near the double doors of the room where he’d snapped off the padlock earlier.

‘I can’t believe Charlie doesn’t know about this.’

‘Charlie doesn’t ask questions.’

‘But if he knew, he wouldn’t have brought Porter out here, like he did today.’

‘Pop’s got tunnel vision when it comes to the whole murder investigation.’ She opened the double doors and fiddled with the light panel, and a bank of fluorescent lights came on.

‘I knew the lights worked. I could hear the buzzing.’

‘They won’t be on for long, not now you guys have redecorated the place and torn down that tarp covering the windows.’ She approached the false wall, only to pause.

Dex was dying to see.

‘Before I do the big reveal, shall we discuss the stage rules to this secret?’

‘Like what? A three-jug minimum?’ Dex narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I won’t tell.’

‘No. You’ll just hold this over me.’

‘You’ d do the same to me.’

‘Oh, like Nurse Kitty .’ That grin of hers was positively evil.

He matched it with a scowl. ‘Oi, I was asleep.’

‘Oh, does that mean she’s in your dreams, huh?’ Bree laughed, tugging on a lever that shifted some mechanical lock, pulling back the wall. It opened to a spotlessly sterile room, as a crisp bank of lights highlighted a large slender still, like something out of a steampunk movie.

‘Is that copper?’ Brass pipes ran from the tall copper cylinder with coils curling down to another copper tank that held a brass tap at its base.

Bree said nothing, rolling over a wooden whisky barrel to rest directly beneath the tap. She popped open the barrel’s large cork, plonked a large funnel into the hole, then turned the tap on at the still and clear liquid freely flowed into the barrel. ‘Keep an eye on that for me.’

She then grabbed a hefty work trolley from the trailer and started loading up crates filled with bottles.

‘Is all that gin?’ It lined the wall.

Her boots scuffed on the concrete floor as she dragged the trolley to a stop. ‘What’s with the moronic questions, Stormcloud? Have you been hanging out with your blonde nurse too long?’

He must have said something to upset Nurse Kitty earlier, because Sophie barely spoke to him when she drove him back to the cottage, and then left in a hurry.

Good. He didn’t need that pretty little temptation fluttering in his periphery, not when he had a whopping big, highly illegal gin distillery standing before him. He could smell the potency of the alcohol as it filled the barrel. ‘This is quite the operation. So, before we pull it apart, gimme a tour.’

‘You can see what it is.’ Bree scowled as she loaded up her trolley with crates filled with bottles that clanged inside.

‘Come on, Bree, play nice.’

Bree huffed, flicking her long thick plait over her shoulder. She approached the machine making illegal commercial quantities of alcohol. She truly was his partner in crime.

‘With your mathematical brain, you’d know by looking at it that this is a 500-litre copper pot still. It allows me to make my alcohol mash that I’ll then double-distil with the botanicals I grow in my garden to make a damned fine gin, that you’ve tasted.’

‘I have. I just didn’t think it was this complex.’

‘Right? You thought I used a plastic bucket that I stirred with my broomstick, huh?’

He grinned while taking in the details of the impressive still. The tap trickled like water, as the barrel filled with a potent clear liquid, while Bree carted the last of the bottles to fill the back of her Kombi van.

‘You made this yourself?’ He ran his finger over the smooth welding joins. Bree had a delicate touch with the welder, after all she created art out of steel, bending it to make letters for cattle brands and shields for fake knights in costumes. ‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to just use an old gas cylinder?’

‘After my many minutes of research, I found the bell shape, combined with copper, helps bring out the flavours in the gin. Just like these old oak barrels help add to the flavour, as it needs to sit for a bit before you can bottle it.’ She rapped her knuckles against the copper tank, listening for the echo to indicate how much liquid was trapped inside.

‘Of course, there’s my secret recipe using natural spring water and the local native juniper berries, that gives my gin a unique base to add any flavour I want. This batch had cucumber and roses in it. Pop had a good show of roses this year. I like that combination, so do my regular customers.’ She hoisted up the trolley, loaded with two barrels, and walked it out to her Kombi van.

‘We don’t have native juniper berries. You’re making that up.’

‘You boys drive right past them all the time. They’re woody shrubs with tiny berries on them, especially the large shrubberies scattered around the drafting yards. Which reminds me, I must peek at Cap’s plans for his revegetation corridors. I’ll toss in a few seedlings to keep the rotation going.’

‘You sneaky thing.’

‘I’m not being sneaky. I’m just doing my thing. Remember, I don’t work for you boys.’

‘But you’re doing these things in plain sight. My mechanic’s workshop is right next door where I worked on the tractor, the grader, your grandfather’s car, Pandora, and I never even…’

Bree didn’t say a word, but that evil grin of hers grew, obviously pleased with herself.

He had to admit he was impressed with her, too.

‘Here, make yourself useful.’ Bree dropped her toolbox onto the floor. ‘You can unbolt the base plates. I’ll change the barrel. This is only a small batch.’ She hesitated when handing him the tool. ‘Can you do this, Stormcloud?’

‘I can do it.’

‘Getting sick of being mollycoddled?’

He rubbed a hand roughly over his face, knocking off the stupid tubing that rested across his face like jewellery. It was annoying him to no end as he untangled the tubing. ‘I’m not healing quick enough.’

‘You’re healing far quicker than the average person.’

‘Just not quick enough for me.’ He tugged the tool free from her hand.

‘You know, if you’re smart, you could extend the suffering to keep your little blonde nurse around.’ Bree hammered the plug into the barrel. She then rolled in another empty barrel, added the wide-mouthed funnel, and turned on the tap. ‘Your nurse is a bit of a goody-two-shoes, isn’t she?’

‘Sophie is not my nurse.’

‘Well, she’s not here to play board games with me, is she? Does that heal your inner child?’

‘Lay off.’

Of course, Bree wouldn’t stop. ‘Your nurse doesn’t like me. Any idea why? ’

‘Sophie thinks we’re a couple.’

Bree laughed so loud it bounced off the walls of the hidden room. ‘As my resident fourth-day uncertified couch commentator, can you please explain how your nurse came to this conclusion?’

Dex shrugged, attempting to squat down to lever the floor bolt. ‘Buggered if I know.’

‘Does that put you into the category of people who don’t know that most stone fruits comes from a tree and not a plastic box in the supermarket? Or are you in the category of people who think that the world is flat?’

Smart-arse witch. ‘I told Sophie I trusted you today, and she didn’t speak to me after that.’

Bree let the tap drip as she stared at him. ‘Wow, she’s got it bad. Your nurse is jealous of me.’

‘Ya think?’

Her eyes widened. ‘And you have it bad, too. I’ve seen how you watch your little nurse walk around the cottage.’

He shook his head. ‘Not interested. Can’t you play nice? Were you ever nice?’

‘Yeah, 2010. Third-worst year of my life.’

He didn’t even want to ask what her worst year was.

Bree turned off the tap and leaned against the still beside him. ‘Who was she?’

‘What are you blabbering on about now?’

Bree touched his arm, making him look at her. ‘I’m going to ask you again. Who was the woman that made you hate all females?’

He shook his head.

‘You said you trusted me, right? Well, kitten, it goes both ways—I’m letting you in on this teeny tiny secret.’ Bree nodded up at her tall still, with enough illegal spirits to have the cops on their case and face probable jail time.

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Because it’s stopping you from being happy.’

Dex scowled, gritting his teeth.

Most of the time people backed off when he gave them his dark look, especially fighters in a ring. But Bree only leaned in closer, her green eyes narrowing at him, her breath minty. ‘What are you afraid of?’

‘Getting hurt.’

‘Aren’t we all.’ She shrugged, taking the tool from his hand. ‘You finish the coils, I’ll do this. It looks uncomfortable for your ribs, and I’m on a deadline. We don’t need Ryder showing up. You know…’ She stopped to peer around the room. ‘The murder room would be good for Ryder.’

‘Why?’ It was just an old room in the shed. So what?

‘You said Ryder does weaponry, cleans your guns, ensuring all the sights are right. Which reminds me, that prick still has my shotgun.’

‘You were going to shoot Mia’s ex with it.’

‘Pfft. We have crocodiles for that, which allows us to call it a natural accident. Maybe Mia would then have the courage to leave the place and not watch over her shoulder for her ex to take his revenge on Cap.’ She made quick work of the floor bolts. ‘But then, Mia has you knuckleheads, and your security cameras, and the ex-police riot dogs… It’s really starting to feel like some military base. What did Ryder do in the military?’

‘Something with weapons in the Army. He doesn’t talk about it.’

‘Like you don’t talk to anyone.’

‘I’m talking to you, while helping you with your illegal still.’ Clear liquor spilled from the tap, filling the room with fumes of citrus and roses, combined with a faint underlying aroma of pine forests. He could taste the sharp pine flavour, which reminded him of Christmas tree water.

Dex winced through the pain as he flexed his muscles to successfully crack the bolt’s seal, undoing the copper coils. But he did it. ‘Hey, what do I get for keeping my mouth shut about this operation?’ Should he give it a name like Porter did with his Operation Stoney Silence ?

‘You can have what’s inside that barrel. But please, for the sake of what brain cells and functioning liver you have left, do not drink it straight. The alcohol content is potent.’

‘How about you just owe me a favour?’

‘How about I just give you a couple of cases that are safe to drink? That way you can share them with your little blonde nurse.’ She went back to dismantling her still.

‘It’s really hard to be your friend right now.’

‘Ha.’ She pointed the wrench at him. ‘Never forget who you’re talking to, when we both know you don’t do friends, because friends talk, and you talk to no one.’ She then undid the bolts around the base of the copper pot while he could only scowl at her.

‘But I’m serious about this being a suitable space for Ryder. This hidden room could become his armoury. That way Harper won’t need to worry about having guns in the farmhouse with baby Mason around. And Ryder could tinker in the murder room with all his televisions playing the stock market and business news, along with his wall of whiteboards for his notes and stuff.’

The copper still was cool against his shoulder as he peered back out to the main rectangular room. ‘Sounds like a good plan. But Ryder won’t use it.’

‘Well, when I’m done with your place, I’ll do a makeover on this one. He’ll use it then.’

‘Why?’ Dex didn’t get it.

‘Because you have your place. Cap and Mia have their place. The farmhouse has an adorable young boy named Mason living there, with a young couple still in their honeymoon phase, and they’ve got your big brother crowding their space.’ She pointed to the far end of the shed area. ‘You guys gave Mia a panic room for her arts and crafts, so why not do this for Ryder and give him a man cave?’

‘I get it. But he’d love a bar.’

‘You all would.’

‘Sure. But Ryder’s got cases of fancy bourbons from all over, stashed in his room. I think he sleeps on them to stop us from drinking the good stuff.’ Then he had a thought. ‘When can I see my place? ’

‘I don’t want the paint to upset your lungs. So, hopefully tomorrow or the next day. It’s airing out.’

‘I’ll move in tonight.’ He could see it in the distance.

‘I just told you why not. Why do you insist on torturing yourself? I just don’t get it.’ She shook her head, as she tossed the tool back into the toolbox and shoved the floor bolts into a cloth bag for safekeeping. ‘You have a great family. Your parents are amazing people. I really liked your mother, and Charlie and your father were like instant best mates.’

‘So I heard.’

‘Your brothers were worried enough to be there for you in the hospital. We all were.’

‘I heard you stayed there all night, holding my hand when I was in the ICU.’

‘Ryder was there, too.’

‘That I find hard to believe. He’d be too busy bossing everyone around.’

She grabbed his arm. ‘Hey, for the record, it was Ryder who talked me into letting you camp on my couch.’

‘See, taking control of my life.’

‘I only agreed because you’re my friend, numbskull. Anyway, what do you have against Ryder?’

‘I can’t believe you’re sticking up for him.’

‘Me neither. But I saw how much Ryder was worried about you. And hey, in case you don’t realise it, your big brother is busting his butt for all of you.’ She stabbed the air in front of his chest. ‘Ryder is the one who’s invested heavily in this place. And he’s the one who’s paying for your daily nursing visits. So cut Ryder some slack.’

He took a step back from the fiery redhead and repeated, ‘I can’t believe you’re sticking up for him.’

‘For the record, I will completely deny this entire conversation ever happened. But I won’t deny that Ryder and I were there at the hospital while you were on that breathing machine. I kept waiting for you to wake up and give me lip. But that took days.’ Then she looked up at the ceiling. ‘Ah, now I get why your little nurse thinks we’re…’ She sh uddered.

‘Am I that bad?’

‘You’re not my type. I am not attracted to you, at all. And the only reason we give each other so much hell is that we’re way too alike. It’s not chemistry. It’s our wickedly devious criminal minds that have a lot in common.’ She tapped on the illegal still to make her point.

‘Sophie seems to think we have chemistry.’

‘Oh, please, don’t make me barf before breakfast. We’re two people who occupy the same parcel of land where I’m used to being surrounded by men in this industry. I grew up being one of the guys. So, I will repeat this for the crowd in the back of the room who may not have heard me earlier: I am not attracted to you. Full stop .’

‘Ditto.’ He grinned at her. ‘I always said I might like you, if you didn’t scare me.’

‘But you’re attracted to Sophie. The heat between you two could melt a titanic sized iceberg.’

He didn’t want that.

‘Stop that.’ She pointed her finger in his face.

He slapped it away. ‘You stop that.’

‘I have an excuse for being the way I am. I watched my father murder my mother, then came out here where life hasn’t exactly been roses for me, buddy. Losing my son, watching those contractors strip this station of everyone’s hard work, to then face off against those bullies standing over Charlie. And your neighbour does not play fair.’ Again, she pointed at him. ‘But you, Dex, you choose to get your face punched up repeatedly. You picked one of the worst paddocks on the station to claim as your own, as if setting yourself up to fail. And you live in a tent, inside your house when you could’ve cleaned it up in no time—’

‘I was fixing other stuff.’

‘Because you don’t see your worth, so you don’t see the point of doing something good for yourself.’

‘I’m not listening to this.’ He flicked off the tap and went to walk away .

‘Oooh, I must have hit a nerve for you to walk away when you fight for everything, just like me.’ She got in his face, he couldn’t get past her.

‘Move, Bree.’

‘No. Who was she?’

‘Stop it.’

‘No. Not until you tell me.’

‘It wasn’t her—it was…’ He dropped his head, heaving for air. ‘Her son.’ He rubbed at his forehead, wishing he could forget. ‘Like you, I lost a son. He wasn’t mine, but I would’ve gladly taken him on as mine.’ He leaned his back against the wall, defeated, desperate for his lungs to work. ‘Cricket was a small boy when I first met his mother, Rach.’

Bree stepped back, thankfully, giving him space to breathe. ‘How long were you with her?’

‘Almost two years, before she went into rehab. Rach was my first and only love. At first, I didn’t know she was a junkie. Not until she began stealing from me to pay for her habit, that I learned my lesson about junkies, to know they lie all day every day to get their fix. When I finally faced the fact I couldn’t help her, I called it quits and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Except two days later she dumps Cricket on me…’

He heaved past the pain, finally taking that first decent breath in over a week. It was so much deeper than the one when they’d set the crocodile trap, this was a normal-sized breath that somehow allowed the pressure to ease around his lungs. He inhaled deeper, and held it, counting down the seconds. One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven!

Bree must have been counting as well, giving him a well-done nod. ‘How long did you take care of Cricket for?’

‘One year, seven months and thirteen days.’ He missed that kid so much. Some days his heart burned so hard it made him hate the world. And then when his nephew Mason showed up, it dragged up all sorts of gunk from his time with Cricket that he took it out on the nanny. He never did apologise to Harper for being such an arsehole to her when she’d first arrived.

‘Go on,’ urged Bree. ‘So you took care of this boy?’

Dex didn’t want to say more, but he knew the redhead wasn’t going to let up either. ‘I was there on Cricket’s first day of school, did school lunches, learned how to do laundry, worked out the best times to avoid the crowds for school pick-ups. I even sat and watched those dumb school plays, while avoiding the other kids’ mothers, just because Cricket was in them.’

Breathe, brother.

‘I’d take him to all his cricket practices, and I’d stay all day watching his matches. Then we’d sit on the couch watching cricket together on weekends if we weren’t out exploring.’

‘What happened?’

He ripped off the stupid nose tubing, to again roughly scrub his hand over his face as if to get rid of the emotions swirling inside him, forgetting his ribs, because heartbreak cut so much deeper.

‘Dex?’ Of course, the redhead would push for an answer.

‘Rach showed up with her new husband, someone she met in rehab, and took Cricket, and refused to tell me where they were going. And that,’ he said squarely to Bree, ‘is what broke me.’

It had shattered his flipping soul.

‘I loved that boy like a son. But what made it worse was knowing his mother wouldn’t stay clean for long. Rach was going to put that poor kid through a life of misery, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it.’

He sighed, letting his heavy head drop to his chest as he stared at the concrete floor. ‘That’s when I took off my boxing gloves and started bare-knuckle fighting.’ And he never watched a game of cricket again.

‘So that’s why you choose to never get emotionally involved with anyone?’

He didn’t even nod, but Bree got the message, she was a clever cookie. But it was also clear she could relate to why he let no one get that close to the heart—it was the only thing that could destroy a man.

‘Now that we share a trauma bond, that neither of us wanted or deserved, do you want a hug?’ Bree held out her arms, with none of that brassiness. It was the same expression she wore just before he’d been knocked out in the hospital—this was the real Bree, who rarely showed herself. She was just like him, hiding behind the smart-mouth comebacks, ready to keep on swinging.

He shook his head, but his legs moved wilfully, stepping into her arms to get the first hug he’d had in years. ‘This doesn’t mean we’re dating, you know.’

‘Of course not. But I can tell you’re breathing better, now you’ve got that crap off your chest.’

What the flip! He pushed away from her. ‘You did not just do your witchy woo-woo on me.’

‘No. It was just a conversation that won’t go anywhere.’

Somehow, in the ether of all this nonsense, he believed her. And she was right—he was breathing better.

‘But you do deserve to find your happiness, Dex.’

‘I have that here, on the station. And I enjoy driving the grader and fixing stuff. And I’ve got the test on that new drafting cradle coming up.’

‘That I totally approve of.’

‘You do?’

‘Charlie and I agree it’ll be better on the calves, less stress on them, less handling for you guys. Saving you time to process them quicker.’ Bree even nodded.

‘Exactly.’ That nod meant a lot to him. Bree was the granddaughter of a highly respected head stockman. And Bree was a great stockwoman—who’d never admit to being one.

‘But I was talking about your love-life. You like Sophie, don’t deny it. I can see it.’ She playfully poked his shoulder. ‘You get this spark in your eye when she’s near you. But I think she might be a good girl attracted to the bad boy.’

He rolled his eyes. This was far too much emotional gunk for one year. ‘How are we getting this still out of here? ’

‘The same way I got it in. Watch and learn, cream puff, as the master takes the reins on this project.’

‘Talking about projects. As you know this station, can I run something by you about my paddock?’ It was easier saying it again, ‘I trust your opinion. Even if it’s brutal.’

‘Will you trust the juice? I think you should start drinking it, because, buddy, you’re on some heavy meds that could stuff up your insides.’

‘Is it that drink my parents couldn’t stop raving about? The one with hemp seeds?’

She gave an evil grin.

He waggled his finger at her, almost breathing normally again. ‘See, when you do that grin, that’s what gets me worried. Witch.’

‘Dick.’ She matched his grin, giving him the sly wink of a friend.