The Breaker (Erotic Country #1.) (8 page)

Mick drove through the front gates of
the rodeo grounds and then stopped to pay a little old couple at the gate. The
sun had set and the halogen lights blared over the main arena. Mick got
chatting for so long that Liz and Sophie got out and headed for the grandstand.

The Ladies’ Barrel
Race was in full flight and Liz clambered to the top of the grandstand to
watch. Sophie followed up the wide concrete steps. On the way up she nodded
hello to Jaimie and his Bangaloo mates. They lifted their hands in hello and
kept talking among themselves. Whatever they were talking about seemed intense,
so she kept walking. Men were tedious when they started arguing.

They passed Pete and
Paul, who sat with a bunch of girls who looked as if they were still in high
school. Best not to cramp their style, she thought, feeling suddenly old. She
kept climbing.

‘Rene!’ She called out
and he spotted her. He gave her an uncomfortable smile and waved, but didn’t
shift over to offer a seat, instead quickly turning back to the people he was
sitting with. What was with everyone tonight?

The only spare seats were
at the very top of the grandstand, behind a mob of young blokes who looked as
if they would be riding bulls later in the evening: they wore large black hats,
rodeo belt buckles and dirty jeans.

‘Why is everyone so uptight?’
she said to Liz as she looked down on Jaimie and his mates. Usually everyone
buzzed with warm welcomes on rodeo night. Tonight everyone seemed so serious.
Maybe they just hadn’t lubed up yet.

‘They don’t want to be
seen talking to Brett Sampson’s girlfriend,’ Liz answered.

‘Seriously?’ She was
incredulous. ‘I’m not his girlfriend. We’ve never even shagged.’

Liz gave her a
disbelieving scoff. ‘Do you think we’re all stupid?’

‘I haven’t,’ she
swore, swiping her fingers back and forth across her chest. ‘Cross my heart and
hope to become a nun, I haven’t.’

‘I still don’t think
any bloke is game to go near you.’

Sophie rolled her eyes
‘Why? Do they think he’ll come and murder them or something?’

Damn it. How had Brett
done that: kept her under the thumb when he wasn’t even here? He’d been around
for little more than a week and somehow managed to lay some exclusive claim
over her, a claim acknowledged by the entire district. That would be fine, if
he had spoken more than three words to her all week, or actually given her some
red hot sex, as everyone at this rodeo seemed to be imagining. He wasn’t even
here to sling a possessive arm over her shoulder.

Pfft, what did it
matter? They could all just get over it. She was her own person. Always would
be. When she got home she would get straight online and look through some dildo
catalogues. She’d buy herself a good one. From America. Where everything was
supersized.

In the arena, a palomino
mare cantered around the barrels. ‘Hey, that’s a Stoneleigh mare,’ she said excitedly
to Liz. She took a seat and pulled a bottle of water out of her bag. ‘She was
one of the first horses I broke in up here. Out of a quarterhorse mare. Gee,
she’s slow! No wonder Boss Carney sold her.’ She took a guzzle and replaced the
lid.

‘I remember her,’ said
Liz. ‘Real pretty horse.’

Liz knew bugger all
about horses. She still brought cooked vegetables left over from the kitchen to
the horse shed, thinking soggy cauliflower cheese made a good horse treat.

One of the men in
front of her turned and stared. She vaguely recognised him, probably from steer
riding. He was from one of the nearby stations, though she couldn’t recall
which. She gave him a brief smile, but his eyes scrutinised her in a way that
didn’t seem complimentary. He turned back to the others and Sophie noticed him
whack his mate on the leg. He leaned in and whispered something into the guy’s
ear and he too turned around and stared.

‘What?’ said Sophie.
She instantly disliked both of them.

Next to her, Liz
mumbled something and took her by the arm. ‘Let’s sit somewhere else,’ she said,
standing and trying to lift Sophie.

‘There is nowhere else,’
she said, refusing to budge.

‘Just trust me, Soph,’
she said, still pulling at her. ’We need to move.’

‘Yeah, find somewhere
else,’ said the guy in front of her, without looking back. Sophie had half a
mind to put her boot through the back of his head.

‘What’s your problem,
mate?’

‘
Sophie
,’ Liz
moaned. ‘Come
on
.’

Further below, Jaimie
stood up and waved her down as if it was urgent. She heard the men in front of
her mumble in hostile tones.

‘What’s going on?’ she
said loudly. ‘This place is rank tonight.’

The guy in front of
her rose and turned to her. ‘My problem is you, sweetheart. Why don’t you go
back to your sick fuck back at Stoneleigh and tell him he should still be
behind bars.’

Sophie glared at him.
‘Do I know you?’

Suddenly the Bangaloo
men were on their feet and Jaimie was on his way up the steps. ‘I don’t want
any trouble,’ he said quickly, raising both hands in peace to the guy in front
of her. He took Sophie by the arm and yanked her forcefully out of her seat.

‘Hey!’ she complained.

Jaimie dragged her
down the steps and she let him, somehow knowing she should trust him. He didn’t
let go of her until they were under a large white marquee and he had her seated
at a table. He went to the bar, and Liz plonked her bag in a seat next to Sophie
and let out a long sigh of relief.

‘Will someone please
tell me what that was all about?’ Sophie demanded. ‘Who was that dickhead and
what did I ever do to him?’

‘You’re mad getting
involved with that Brett guy, Sophie,’ said Jaimie, returning with a beer and sitting
down next to her. ‘I know you don’t want to be with me. That’s fine. But be
careful. You’re a nice chick. I don’t want to see you hurt. No one does.’

‘Why am I going to get
hurt?’ she asked.

‘That guy in front of
you, with the blue shirt,’ said Jaimie. ‘He’s from Heads Up Station. He’s Jarred
Young – Mark Young’s brother. Mark was the guy Brett killed.’

Sophie went cold. Okay,
now she got it. This was heavy; too heavy for her. She didn’t want to get
tangled up between two feuding mobs of station hands. While she sat, soaking it
in, more questions hit her. ‘What happened?’ she asked Jaimie. ‘Why did he kill
him? Was it a fight? What was it over?’

Jaimie looked across
the bar and swore under his breath. ‘They’re coming in here.’

‘Heyyy,’ slurred a
drunken reveller. ‘Heads up, boys!’ The drunk raised a glass to several large
men in black hats and rodeo buckles.

Sophie had heard the
greeting before. It was traditional for the workers on that station. She’d
heard it in town, in pubs, at the servo, even in the supermarket. But she’d
never heard about their feud with Brett. That must have started before she came
here, before Brett went to prison, more than four years ago.

She thought. Come to
think of it, she had heard about a lethal fight, but she’d never paid much attention.
Tall tales were rife in the outback, mostly because not much ever happened.
Things got exaggerated all the time.

She looked across to
where the Heads Up boys had taken a table.

‘Let’s go,’ said Liz, picking
up her bag and standing.

Jaimie stood up,
leaving his half-finished beer on the table, and jangled the keys in his
pocket. ‘I’ll drive you.’

Sophie felt them
eyeballing her the whole way out. She couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder
as she followed her friends through the dark carpark. Thankfully they hadn’t
followed.

Jaimie drove in
silence for half an hour or so. His car, some sort of throbbing V8 Holden,
hummed quietly and she sank into the leather seat and closed her eyes. What had
she got involved in?

‘You never told me
what happened,’ she said to Jaimie.

‘Mark Young was
driving drunk,’ Jaimie told her. ‘He hit Brett’s car and his little girl …’ he
paused trying to think of the name.

‘Sam,’ Sophie said.

‘Sammy, he used to
call her. She was a cute kid. Only four years old. She went everywhere with him
on the weekends, always on his shoulders.’

‘What happened to her?’

‘She was killed
instantly. Story goes, Mark got out of the car, pissed as a newt and Brett
hammered him. He only hit him once, but it was enough to kill him. His nose
went straight through his brain. The alcohol didn’t help.’

Sophie gulped. ‘Whoa.’

‘There’s more to it
than that, but that’s the basics,’ said Jaimie. ‘Other stories say Brett was
drinking too, but I don’t know what the truth is. There were no other people
there. Brett sat on the side of the road all night with his kid in his arms.
Someone drove past the next morning and found the whole mess. By the time the
cops got there, it was too late to breathalyse him.’

They continued driving
in silence. Sophie stared out the window, not knowing what to think.

When they arrived back
at Stoneleigh, only the soft lamp at Brett’s place was on. A porch light was on
at the main house and the staff buildings were all dark and empty. Everyone was
still at the rodeo. Everyone except Brett.

‘Thanks, Jaimesey,’
she smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek.

He smiled back. ‘Take
care, chick.’

‘You too, my friend.’

Liz made her way back
to the flat. ‘Come on, I’ll make you a hot chocolate,’ she offered.

‘I’m going to stay up
a while,’ said Sophie. She needed some time to think. By herself. She made her
way to the staffroom and switched on the lights. The tables were wiped clean
and all the chairs were upside down on top, ready for the floors to be swept. She
walked through the small door and went into the pool room, flicked on the
overhead lamp and took a pool cue.

Sophie barely noticed the balls she
hit as her mind tumbled. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine
sitting on the side of a road with her dead child in her arms. It was too
awful; especially if it was compounded by guilt. Had Brett been drinking? Was
that why he waited there all night without calling the cops, like the Heads Up
boys all said? Or was it pure grief?

‘Hey, you,’ said a
soft voice.

Sophie looked up and
saw Mrs Carney in the doorway in her dressing gown. ‘I wondered who was hitting
balls around at this hour of the night.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t know
you were home,’ said Sophie. ‘Didn’t you go to the rodeo?’

Mrs Carney smiled and
took a seat by the wall. ‘Tom went. I’ve got the flu.’

Sophie noticed her
nose was red and her eyes looked tired.

‘What keeps you up?’
her boss asked.

Sophie sighed and
tapped the end of the stick against her boot. ‘The new guy,’ she confessed.

‘How was the rodeo?’

‘Bad.’

‘Thought it might be. That’s
why I didn’t go. I begged Tom to stay home too but he wanted to make sure there
was no trouble.’ She gave Sophie a kindly smile. ‘Brett’s a decent man, Sophie.
He’s been done wrong.’

‘That’s what you say,’
she answered, wishing she could believe it. ‘Others say different.’

‘Jim was with him the
night it happened. Brett never drank when he had his kid with him. He was as
sober as a judge. Jim had been talking to him about coming here to work. He’s a
top hand with the horses. He offered him the job you ended up getting. Brett
left early to put Sam to bed. Said he’d think about it. He was a devoted
father.’

Mrs Carney’s version
of the story tore Sophie’s heart to pieces.

‘Why would they say he
was drinking?’

‘Probably to make
themselves feel better about what their brother did. Grief does strange things
to people, Sophie.’

‘Where is Sam’s mum?’

‘They were never
together while I knew him. She had Sammy during the week. He picked her up from
Brisbane every weekend, and then took her back for school. I don’t know much
about her.’

Sophie looked up at
Mrs Carney, her eyes begging her for advice.

Mrs Carney gave a
snort into her hanky and got up to go back to bed. She shuffled over to Sophie
and gave her a quick hug. ‘You’re a smart girl. You’ll work out what to do.’

Sophie hit some balls
around for a while longer, processing everything she had heard. She knew Brett
wasn’t a monster. He was a man who had been unlucky, and he’d been punished. But
he was still being punished. Her heart ached for him.

* * * * *

It wasn’t long before she put down
her cue and flicked out the lights. By the time she was halfway across the yard
she was running. His light was on. She was barely through the door when she
felt his hand pull at hers and wrench her into his chest. She threw her arms around
his neck, kissed him madly, with her whole heart, and he kissed her back,
slowly and passionately. She jumped up, wrapped her legs around his waist and
forced her tongue deeper into his mouth.