On Weerong Station, she counted nine Nguni cattle amid the stock in the lower paddock nearest Clearwater’s boundary.
Nine of the ten she was missing.
Not a bad result for a morning’s work.
Working her way along the tree line, Abbey cut the speckled beasts from the herd and assembled them in a group. Cooper arched his neck and jogged like a keen cow pony as they pushed the mob forward, until Dopey ran in front of him with a growling bark. As the gelding gave a snort and jerked to a stop, Abbey peered ahead and saw four riders galloping toward her.
Dopey’s bark intensified, and she waved a hushing hand at him. ‘Alright, Dopey, alright.’
He glanced at her, whimpered, and slinked into the underbrush.
She shook her head.
My hero.
When the four riders drew closer she recognised Pearson on a flashy palomino stallion. The other three with him rode dark-coloured stockhorses. Whips and other implements dangled from their stock saddles. They circled the mob, making the cattle shift and bellow. Pearson pushed his stallion right up to Cooper, who took a step back before Abbey checked him.
Cocking an eyebrow, Pearson let his eyes rove over her. ‘May I ask what you’re doing on my property, Miss Miller?’
Her hackles rose at his condescending demeanour. ‘Retrieving my cattle, as we discussed previously.’ Her tone was starchy and she eyed him steadily. ‘I did a complete stock count and discovered ten of my stock were missing.’ She swept a hand over the shuffling mob. ‘Found these nine in your bottom paddock. Was going to yard them for you to check, as agreed, but you can see for yourself now that they’re not part of your herd.’
He gave a cool, assured smile. ‘You’ll still need to come to the house, to pay the stud fees you owe.’
‘What stud fees?’ She noticed the three stockmen share a smirk, and her ire rose.
‘Your stock have been “cohabiting” with my bull, therefore you owe me stud fees.’
She frowned. ‘These cattle were already in calf, to David Graham’s bull.’
Pearson paused to eye her. ‘I take it you have proof of this?’
‘I do.’
At her confident reply, his eyes narrowed. Leaning forward in the saddle, he rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘Of course there’s also the agistment cost to consider.’
‘Agistment?’ Her frown deepened. ‘You know the fence had been cut, I told you that myself. And it’s not like I would choose to have my cattle stray onto your property.’ She glanced around. ‘Especially as the feed here isn’t as good as mine, I have to say.’
‘Not as good?’ He jerked upright and swept a glance over the surrounding paddock. Turning back to her with a stony expression he growled, ‘In your opinion.’
She shrugged.
A low note of warning crept into his voice. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the impression you think someone intended for your stock to stray onto my property.’ He paused to fix her with a challenging gaze. ‘I do hope you’re not accusing me, Miss Miller.’
‘Of course not. I’m just saying—’
‘Cattle rustling is a serious charge, even these days.’
‘I never said anything about—’
‘Then again….’ Pearson nodded to his stockmen, who closed ranks around the mob cutting her off from them. ‘Perhaps you aren’t aware of such things.’ His eyes flashed and he gave a loud, affected sigh. ‘A young lady on her own out here in the sticks with a sizeable property to manage.’ He shook his head. ‘It would be awful if you went under. I don’t know why your uncle would want to burden you so.’
She grit her teeth as he went on in the same smarmy voice. ‘City life offers so much more. I’m sure a pretty girl like yourself would prefer living back there to being stuck out here.’ Tipping his head at a thoughtful angle, he tapped his chin. ‘You know, it just occurred to me that I might be able to help you out.’ One side of his upper lip twitched. ‘There’d be benefits to amalgamating our two properties. As you mentioned, your paddocks offer better year-round feed. So I might be interested in taking the place off your hands.’
She stared at him, wide-eyed at his gall. ‘You’re offering to buy Clearwater Downs?’
‘I’m offering to help you out of a difficult situation.’
Anger glittered in her eyes. ‘Well, unlike you, I don’t see running a well-managed property as a “difficult” situation, Mr Pearson.’
‘It may have been well managed in the past, but things can change quickly on the land.’
‘Perhaps, but I am my uncle’s niece.’
He went on as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘And the more run-down a property becomes, the more it devalues, and the harder it is to sell.’
Her nostrils flared.
‘And while that may not concern you now, you need to think about the future.’
Lifting her chin she said through tight lips, ‘Thank you for the lesson in rural economics, Mr Pearson. If you’re quite done, I’ll take my cattle and go.’
‘You’re free to go, of course, Miss Miller. But I’m sure you’ll understand why I can’t let you take these cattle.’
She stared at him. ‘You know they’re not yours.’
‘That may be so but there’s still the question of agistment fees, which I hate to say, are now in arrears.’
‘You’re kidding, right?’
His expression hardened. ‘I never “kid” about money or business, Miss Miller. And these cattle have been grazing on my apparently inferior pasture for some time now.’
They glared at each other, and then Abbey ground out, ‘I’m not leaving without my stock.’
‘Oh, but I think you are.’ Pearson’s sneer faltered when a deep voice rumbled from the nearby scrub.
‘And I think you should let the lady take her cattle.’
Abbey’s eyes widened as she turned toward the voice.
Beside her, the palomino snorted and threw up its head, coiling its pale-gold body as the rider’s legs tightened around its girth.
Struggling to keep his wild-eyed mount in check, Pearson puffed, ‘Who the hell are you?’ as a large, stern-faced man materialised from the tree line. ‘And where did you come from?’ After sweeping a glance around the bush as if expecting a whole regiment to appear, he fixed his pale eyes on the interloper.
Granger crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared coolly back at him. ‘We met the other night. At least your thugs and I did.’ He waved a hand at the stockmen, and noticed one of them hastily reposition his leg against a saddle flap as if to hide something.
Sauntering over to him, Granger pushed the man’s leg aside, to stare at a crossbow bolt tucked into a fold in the flap. ‘This is mine.’ Plucking the bolt from the flap, he ran a hand up and down the shaft, checking its condition. He arched an eyebrow up at the man. ‘Thanks for returning it.’
At the sarcasm in his tone the stockman scowled and made to reach for something on his horse’s off-side. When Granger tapped the bolt against the hunting knife strapped to his leg, the man froze.
Barking, ‘Leave it,’ Pearson raked his gaze over Granger, taking in the man’s size and physique. ‘That was you?’
Granger dipped his head and moved to Cooper’s side. Flicking Abbey a ‘trust me’ glance, he took hold of the gelding’s bridle and led the horse closer to the milling mob of Nguni. ‘And unless you want to get into the details of that encounter here and now,’ he said smoothly, ‘the lady and I will take our leave. With her cattle.’
A flush crept up Pearson’s neck and into his face. He glanced sideways at Abbey as his horse began dancing again, half-rearing when he checked it.
Growling, ‘This isn’t over,’ he spun the stallion around. ‘Come on, boys.’ When he dug his gleaming spurs against its quivering side, the palomino gave a squeal and leaped into a gallop, throwing up clods of dirt in its wake.
Doing their best to shower Granger and Abbey with more tufts of grass and dirt, the three stockmen sped after their boss.
Shielding their faces from flying clods, Granger and Abbey watched until the four disappeared over a rise.
Neither spoke for a long moment.
Granger let go of Cooper’s bridle and looked up, to find Abbey gazing down at him.
‘I thought you were moving on, Mr Jackson?’
He gave an amused huff though his expression remained stern. ‘If that’s meant to be a thank-you, Miss Miller, it falls a bit shy of the mark.’
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