Page 4 of Road to Rosalee

‘Ha, true that. The motley crew are getting back together. Look out.’

‘Yeah, lord help us. And speaking of that, are you still good to grab Matt on the way through Mareeba, bud? He’s just going to oversee things for a couple of weeks, you know, get the muster on the go and the crew in line before heading back to his place. Poor bugger is spread so thin, thank god he’s got Sarah holding the reins for him.’

‘Yeah, of course, and damn straight, Sarah is a top chick. It’s totally understandable he wants to make sure Rosalee is running like a tight ship while you and Georgia are gone.’

‘Thanks mate, really appreciate it. I know Mareeba is out of your way a bit.’

‘Nah, not at all, I’d rather go the coast road anyway, there’s more to see, and it’ll be nice to catch up with Walshee. I haven’t seen him for ages.’

‘Yeah, neither have we. He’s been real busy at his new place the last year, getting it all set up. It’ll be good for him to pop his head in here for a couple of weeks before getting stuck back into training his bucking bulls.’ The whirr of the generator that powered the cattle station got louder. ‘Anyway, enough yabbering, I gotta run. I’ll be back just in time for Slim’s big day. Catch you then.’ Patrick’s voice was almost drowned out by the hum of the diesel motor.

‘Yup, for sure, we’ll all be there with cowbells on.’

‘Good, catch ya, bud. Drive safe.’

‘Will do. You three have fun in Ireland.’ The call ended and Zai slipped the phone back into his pocket.

It was nearing the end of April, with the mustering season about to begin for the year, which meant a couple of months of incredibly hard yakka. The unforgiving yet breathtaking countryside he’d longed to lend his hand to was finally calling him back to his real home. He couldn’t wait to leave the trail of traffic Brisvegas delivered and instead see the familiar trail of dust in his rear-view mirror. His six-month stint at the racing stables, both to pass the time and to put more money in his bank account, had been feasible, but certainly not his thing. It didn’t flop his mop, as Slim would say.

Thoroughbreds were a whole other kettle of fish to stockhorses, as were the people that bred them. There was only so much of the hoity-toity horseracing lifestyle Zai could take. Give him dirt and dust over airs and graces any day of the week. If he could, he’d stay out at Rosalee Station permanently, but a seasonal stockman’s work just didn’t allow for such a luxury. Slim was the only person that got to stay out there all year round, the larrikin’s job as an all-rounder rare as hens’ teeth – and Zai had a feeling that Slim, after almost thirteen years of calling the place home, wasn’t going anywhere soon. Unless Slim and Sherrie, his wife-to-be, had plans none of them were privy to yet.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he took one last look around what used to be his bedroom. The memories he had of his childhood in this place were not the best. Most of the time he’d spent in here was tucked away from his father’s snide remarks and his mother’s looks of disappointment, all of which were only exaggerated by his younger sister’s need to do everything necessary to win her father’s love. Now morphed into a massive guest room with an ensuite bigger than most people’s kitchens, and a walk-in closet to boot, it resembled nothing he remembered. Not one for extravagance, he was going to be glad to see the back of it. Give him his swag beneath the stars over the grandeurs of his parent’s oceanside home any day.

Wandering down the hallway, he stopped short of his younger sister’s bedroom, and popped his head round the doorway. ‘Hey, little blister. I’m off.’

‘Ahh.’ Her nose buried in a medical textbook, Renee had a concentrative frown that gave way to a mischievous smile as she brought her glasses-framed gaze to his. ‘I thought something stank.’

‘Oh hardy-ha-ha.’ He strode over to where she was sitting at her desk, sticky notes strewn from one end of it to the other, scribbled with words almost too long to pronounce. ‘How’s the study going?’

Rolling her eyes, she groaned. ‘I swear my brain is about to explode.’

‘No way.’ He gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘Your brain is huge and can fit a lot. You got this, sis.’

‘Ha.’ Renee glanced up at him. ‘I hope so.’

‘You have, and you watch, you’ll end up top of your class, I just know it.’ He offered her a confirming nod. ‘At least one of us is going to make Dad proud.’

‘Oh, Zai.’ She took her glasses off. ‘Please stop being like that. Dad does love you, a lot.’

‘Is that so? Well.’ Zai’s brows shot skywards. ‘He has a real funny way of showing it.’

‘You were always meant to be a stockman, bro, it’s in your blood, just like it’s in Mum’s, not that she wants to admit it.’ She spun her desk chair around to face him. ‘I still remember the day you went galloping bareback down the street on one of the horses from old Ray Reynolds’s place.’ Laughing, she snorted a little. ‘Dad almost had a fit and Mum almost had a coronary.’

‘Yeah, it wasn’t one of my finest moments, hey?’ He grimaced then grinned. ‘Or was it?’

‘I can still hear Mister Reynolds, when he was trying to calm Dad down.’ She tried to pull a poker face, but her lips were lopsided. ‘“You know what, Christopher, riding a shod horse down a steep bitumen hill bareback is a real show of true horsemanship.”’ Her ability to mimic Ray Reynolds’s voice was uncanny. ‘“So, in my firm opinion, you should be mighty proud of your son.”’

Zai cracked up. ‘Yeah, and even with that, Dad still couldn’t see how I was nothing like him.’ He shook his head. ‘I mean, he wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near a horse, let alone riding the thing, and I wouldn’t be caught dead with a scalpel in my hand, let alone slicing someone open with it.’ The very thought of it made him shudder.

‘Ha ha, fair point.’ Renee smirked playfully. ‘I wouldn’t like to be the patient on the operating table. With you at the helm, I might go in for a heart transplant and wake up with a lobotomy.’

Zai chuckled. ‘Geez, thanks for the vote of confidence, sis.’

Renee shrugged. ‘Just saying it how it is.’

‘Yeah, true. I just wish Dad could see it how it is.’

‘Yeah, well, you know Dad, he’s not an easy one to sway once he’s made his mind up.’