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He grinned. “Then tomorrow we’ll set some traps. We can take down some pigeons too. Or galahs.”
Albie screwed his nose up at that. “Galahs? I think I’d rather not.”
“Or a wallaby,” Percy suggested. “Wallaby stew’s pretty good eating. Plenty of options. We’ll make do, Albie. We’ll get by just fine.”
Albie gave him a soft smile, his eyes warm and kind.
It was a personal and private expression that made Percy stop what he was doing.
“Thank you,” Albie murmured.
“What are you thanking me for?”
“You’re a light to my dark,” he said softly. “Where I see doom and gloom, you’re looking for a break in the clouds. You brighten me.”
“Oh.”
He wasn’t sure what else he could say. He’d never heard such beautiful words.
“You speak like a poet,” Percy mumbled, going back to his dough. He was embarrassed now. “You say things out loud that I’ve only read about in books.”
Albie chuckled. “A poet, huh? You know, just the other day, I likened this—” He ran his thumb across Percy’s jaw. “—the blush on your cheeks, your blue eyes and pink lips, as something a poet or painter could only dream of.”
Percy gasped, swatting Albie’s hand away. “All the heavens above, Albie,” he hissed at him. “Robert or Des could see us, or worse, hear you. You can’t say things like that to me.”
He was sure his skin burned from his toes to his scalp; he could feel the heat in his face.
And what did Albie do?
He laughed. “Hold still,” he said, taking a wet cloth and gently wiping Percy’s cheek. “You have flour. I think it’s endearing, but the others may not.”
“I do not,” Percy said, wiping the back of his hand across his cheek, probably making it worse. “If you want this damper ready for supper, you’ll do well to leave me be. Go on, go make yourself useful somewhere else.”
Albie snorted, surprised, a little shocked. Perhaps Percy had overstepped. He was just about to apologise when Albie laughed. “Fine. Yes, I’ll go make myself useful somewhere else.”
Percy felt bad, but Albie gave him a smirk over his shoulder as he left, as if he was enjoying this bickering and game of push and pull a little too much.
He’s such a devil, Percy thought. Though he smiled as he worked.
Dinner was quiet as they ate, though the soft sighs of appreciation as they tasted the damper were worth all the effort.
“Didn’t, by chance, make any of that Cocky’s Joy again, did ya?” Robert asked. Des and Albie both waited for a reply, and Percy couldn’t help but grin.
“I did. As thanks for helping me and Bandit with the cattle today.”
Des looked surprised. “Oh, you don’t need to?—”
Robert elbowed him. “Yes, he does. And you need to help him do something every day, so we get sweets.”
Percy laughed. “I’ll make it whenever I can. No need for special favours.”
When they each had their first mouthful of the syrupy bread, they sighed and closed their eyes, and that right there was enough reason for Percy to make it for them.
This was a hard life. They worked hard, and they gave their all to help Albie, so a little sweet treat in return was a small gesture by any means.
It made Percy happy to do what he could.
When they were done and when Robert and Des got the door for the coats, Des gave Percy a nod. “Hope you manage some shut-eye tonight.”
