Page 50 of Road to Rosalee

‘I have it covered, but seeing as you’re here, I’ll let you take over.’ She was so grateful for his arrival.

‘Righto then.’ Anchoring one boot in the stirrup, he swung his leg over in one fluid movement and, with a thud, was at her side, his tall frame providing her some much-needed shade. ‘Hand me that wheel brace, cowgirl, and let’s get this show on the road.’ He took it from her and got to work. ‘The men are going to be chewing their arms off if they don’t get their dinner soon, and don’t even get me started on Hasselhoof’s mood today. Lord bloody well help us if he goes hungry.’

Standing back while affording a chuckle at an image of Hasselhoof with smoke coming out of his ears and nose, Melody watched Zai change a tyre as if he were manning the pit stop of a famous Formula One driver. Why did he always have to make everything he did so effortlessly sexy?

He straightened, put the tools away and tossed the flat tyre into the tray, then brushed his hands off on his jeans. ‘Right, you’re good to go.’

‘Thank you, Zai, you’re a lifesaver.’

‘Ha, I wouldn’t go that far, but you’re welcome.’ He mounted Sao in his usual easy style and gathered the reins in his hands. Behind him, the sun was beginning to drop from the sky, sending a scattering of golden hues splashing across the blue and a shadow across his strong-angled jaw. ‘I’ll meet you there then.’

‘Roger that,’ she responded, feeling countrified with her lingo. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

He gave Harold a whistle and the dog straightened, stretched, then languidly made his way back, jumping through the window and sitting on the passenger seat, panting like billyo. With a tip of his hat, Zai turned Sao around on a threepenny bit and galloped away. Melody saddled in beside her doggy mate, giving him a quick ruffle behind the ears before she took another glug from her water bottle and revved the old girl back to life just as Zai disappeared into the hazy horizon. She quivered in his wake; he was just so much of an alpha male, and it was intoxicating.

Ten minutes later, she was at the camp and got to work setting up for dinner – not long and the sun would be bowing out for another day. She was really looking forward to spending the night out here – her first one since starting the job. Grabbing the chicken-wire frame she’d whipped up and laced with fairy lights, she propped it behind the fold-out table, covered with a tablecloth, and placed the tin plates, cups and cutlery off to the side, leaving space for the feast she’d prepared. It was going to be fun welcoming the men back to her pimped-out camp – such a contrast to the stunning wild landscape. Setting up the single gas burner, she popped the pot of lamb rogan josh on a low flame, unpacked the container of jasmine rice and placed it alongside the bowls of pappadums and garlic naan. Then, with everything ready on the dinner table, she busied herself starting the campfire – a skill her mother had taught her as a teenage girl, and one she was very thankful for now. It took a few goes, but it wasn’t long before the kindling caught with the logs she’d strategically placed. Satisfied with her effort, she pulled up a camp chair and propped her feet up on a stump one of the blokes would have been using as a stool. The setting sun ignited the cloud of dust hovering above the men on horseback, making it appear as if a trail of golden glitter had been poured from the heavens. It was a sight to behold. She watched in awe as they rounded up the last of the cattle and tucked them away for the night in the holding yard – the five of them certainly worked like a well-oiled machine.

The last of the light had faded from the sky by the time they all lumbered into camp with wider-than-normal gaits – a telltale sign of their extra-long day in the saddle.

‘Hey there, Melody. Wowser, this place looks schmicko with those lights.’ Offering her a nod, true to form, Tumbles tripped over his own feet and almost hit the dirt, only saving himself by stumbling into Showbags.

‘Hey, Tumbles. Cheers, mate.’ Melody couldn’t help but laugh – the bloke was a walking disaster if ever she’d seen one. ‘And careful, before you go breaking something, or yourself.’

Showbags gave his mate a playful shove. ‘Careful, shithead, you almost knocked me over.’

Tumbles stumbled again then entertainingly righted himself. ‘Yeah, but I didn’t, so I should have tried harder, hey Showbags.’

‘It does look schmick.’ Eyeing the fairy-light-lit table, Zai stopped short of Melody and tossed the whip he had slung over his arm onto the tack table. ‘It takes skill to trip over thin air, hey Tumbles.’

Tumbles pulled a hilarious sad face. ‘I don’t know why I stay working here when you lot are always picking on me.’

‘That’s because you’re an easy target, bud.’ With a shake of his head and a deep chuckle, Slim wandered towards the simmering pot and drew in a huge sniff. ‘Cor, bloody hell Mel, that right there smells amazeballs. What is it?’

‘Cheers, Slim. It’s an Indian curry. I hope you guys like it.’

‘Oh bloody hell, why do we have to have Indian food when we’re in the middle of the outback? It makes no bloody sense,’ Hasselhoof grumbled, shrugging when all the men shot him a don’t-start look. ‘What? It makes me fart like buggery all the next day.’

‘I’m sure we will all love it. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble again, Mel, and these lights are bloody tops.’ Slim ran his wide-eyed gaze over the impressive spread. ‘Gee whizz, we even have pappadingys. Talk about spoiling us rotten.’ He turned back to Melody, his face a picture of glee.

‘You mean pappadums,’ Melody said with a chuckle.

‘Yeah, those thingamajigs.’ Slim grinned. ‘I love me some pappadingys.’

‘That’s good to know.’ Still chuckling, Melody busied herself dishing up generous bowls of curry while the men washed their hands in a bucket of soapy water.

The hum of conversation and the crackle of the campfire blended in with the sounds of the Australian outback at night – the chorus of the insects, the distant howl of the dingoes, bellows of the cattle and the whinnying of the horses. Plates gathered, the men parked themselves around the centre of gravity – the fire. Melody pulled up a chair between Zai and Slim. The flames crackled and popped, and glowing red sparks danced and twirled up into the rising smoke. The firelight cast shadows over the men’s weather-beaten faces as they tucked into their dinner. Other than the crunch of a pappadum and the moan of foodie pleasure, nobody said a word. Melody took the silence as the greatest of compliments.

‘That was bloody delicious, Mel, thank you.’ As usual, Slim was the first to finish.

‘Cheers, mate.’ She pointed towards the table with her fork. ‘There’s plenty more there, so help yourself.’

‘You know what, now you’re twisting my arm, I reckon I will.’ He stood but didn’t completely straighten. ‘Cor, my bloody back feels like it’s about to snap in two.’ He took measured steps towards the table, looking double his age.

‘Ha, you look like you might need a walking stick soon, Slimbo,’ Tumbles garbled through a mouthful of food.

Slim gave him the finger over his shoulder and all the men, other than Hasselhoof, cracked up. Melody loved the sound of Zai’s deep throaty laughter – it always found a way into her heart.

Hasselhoof got up so slowly it was almost as if Melody could hear his bones clicking into place, and she grinned to herself as she watched him join Slim at the table, helping himself to another bowlful.