AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He gave a nod.
He stashed the bread in his saddlebag and checked the reins and how Percy had secured Ox’s tether to Minnie’s saddle. He’d done a good job.
“You doubting me, sir?”
Albie looked at him then. “Don’t call me that,” he said. “A name reserved for my father whenever I was in trouble.”
Percy made a face and bowed his head. “Sorry, Mr Bramwell.”
Albie slipped his foot into the stirrup and hoisted himself up into his saddle. Minnie shook her mane as Albie shifted in his seat, both of them getting comfortable.
Percy slung himself onto his horse effortlessly.
“I can’t fault your horsemanship,” Albie said. “Though perhaps we can lose the use of Mister Bramwell. You were fine calling me Albie yesterday.”
“You weren’t my boss yesterday.”
Well, Albie couldn’t fault that either.
With a sigh, he pulled on the reins and nudged Minnie to begin the long trek home. It was funny how he could miss his home after just one night.
They rode in silence through the town. The streets were quiet, only the faint banging from the blacksmith and the early morning chatter between store owners who stopped to watch Albie leave.
He knew the whole town would know before lunch he’d gone back home with a new worker in tow. He didn’t care what they thought, though he knew very little about his new employee.
Albie knew Percy was willing and able and that he’d stood up to the likes of Peter Winnicott in the saloon. When Winnicott had affronted Albie, Percy was quick to put himself right in the middle. He’d stopped the fight with quick-witted reason, and that told Albie that Percy was no fool.
In the one day he’d known him, he’d learned Percy was smart, loyal, good with horses, and willing to work.
That was all he needed to know. For now, anyway.
Albie didn’t care about Percy’s smile, or the way his laughter hung in the air, or the way his blue eyes caught the sunshine. Or why a young and capable, educated man was on his own.
Orphaned, most likely, Albie reasoned.
Not unlike himself.
“So that fella in the saloon last night,” Percy said. They were out of town now, headed up Flagstaff Road, headed up into the high country. “Winnicott? Is that what Elsie called him?”
“Hm. Peter Winnicott.”
“What’s his problem?”
“The problem of half the men in these parts. I’m too young, they reckon. According to them, a man needs to prove himself; gotta earn the right to run cattle and horses in the mountains like they did.”
“That’s a load of wallop,” Percy said. “Sounds to me like they’re scared you’ll make it look easy.”
That made Albie laugh. “Easy? Nothing about these mountains is easy.”
“But you love it.”
Albie smiled, taking in the cool morning air, fresh eucalypt, and damp earth. The sounds of the crickets and birds.
“I’ve never known anything else,” Albie said. “Never wanted anything else.”
Percy was quiet for a bit, seemingly happy with that answer.
“I never asked to run my place alone,” Albie volunteered. “Those men act like it was my choice, like I wanted to be on my own.” He couldn’t keep the bite from his tone. The emotion, the hurt. But it also made him so mad he could spit. “I’d give it all away in a heartbeat to have my father alive again. For even just one day.”
