Outlast the Night (4 page)

He couldn’t do anything about that tonight, though. He didn’t have a computer to look up regulations concerning sheep stations or even to review tax laws. He’d have to hope his memory was good or that Caine had a computer he could use to check things if he had questions.

Muttering to himself about the pitfalls of self-pity, he stood to unpack his suitcase, hung up his couple of pairs of jeans, and folded his shirts into the drawers. When everything was unpacked, he grabbed his toiletries kit and headed down the hall to shower before bed.

J
EREMY
took off his boots at the door to the bunkhouse. He didn’t know if the others would do the same, but his mum had raised him right. He never wore shoes inside anyone’s living space. He spent too much time in dusty fields or in pens full of sheep dung to want to traipse that into the house. He smiled as Arrow appeared from somewhere to join him as he went inside.

“Did you have fun?” Jeremy asked, bending to scratch behind Arrow’s soft ears. “You’d better be careful with Max. He’s used to being top dog around here. I don’t want you getting in any fights, okay?”

Arrow just stared at him in reply, tilting his head into the scratching fingers. Jeremy shook his head at his own foolishness. It wasn’t like Arrow could actually understand him. “Do you think we’ll be okay here? Macklin’s giving us a chance, but that doesn’t mean anyone else will.”

He sighed, thinking about the confrontation, or near-confrontation, with Emery. The man had a reputation as a hothead, and Devlin certainly had given the men at Lang Downs plenty of reasons to distrust everyone at Taylor Peak, so the attitude wasn’t unexpected. That didn’t make it pleasant, though. If life at Lang Downs was going to be one conflict after another with Emery or, since Macklin had stopped the actual confrontation, constant sneers and comments, Jeremy wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay. It would be harder to be open about being gay elsewhere, but he didn’t want to live in a battle zone either, especially if he was forced into being one of the combatants.

He could hear laughter from the common area of the bunkhouse, the jackaroos unwinding after a long day. He imagined a few of them had cracked beers open. A few others had probably lit cigarettes. He thought he might even smell a hint of weed. He filed that away for further investigation. He wasn’t about to start something on someone else’s station the night he arrived, but he’d seen what happened up in Cowra when a jackaroo was busted for growing pot on the station he was working at. The station owner had very nearly gone down with him, and Jeremy didn’t want that to happen to Caine and Macklin. He wouldn’t even wish it on his brother, but he certainly wouldn’t want to see it happen to his benefactors. If he smelled it again or saw any sign of it, he’d say something to Macklin in private.

He’d been toying with the idea of joining the others in the bunkhouse, hoping they didn’t all share Emery’s prejudices, but now he was hesitant to do so. He grabbed his toiletries and headed for the shower block instead. He’d get clean, get some rest, and deal with everything else tomorrow.

Chapter 3

S
AM
could barely keep his eyes open at breakfast in the morning as he sucked down his cup of coffee. He needed the caffeine jolt to help him wake up if he was going to impress Caine with his business acumen after breakfast. Most of the jackaroos looked as bleary as Sam felt, but they were all heading out to work in the paddocks and fields, doing whatever it was needed doing in late autumn on a sheep station. They would have that physical activity to keep them awake. Sam would have only the caffeine and the sheer determination not to lose the one opportunity that had come his way since the Smiths closed their store eighteen months ago.

“Relax,” Neil said, sitting down next to him. “Caine doesn’t bite. He’s the fairest man you’ll ever meet.”

“This is still a job interview,” Sam replied, “no matter what terms you put it in. I’m a little out of practice.”

“Maybe it is,” Neil agreed, “but I’ll repeat what I said: Caine is the fairest man you’ll ever meet. If you can do what he needs you to do, that’s all he’ll require. I expected the worst when I heard a Yank was coming to run the station, but he was never afraid to get his hands dirty or ask questions if he didn’t know something. He’s never asked a man to do something he wasn’t willing to do himself, which is why I’m still alive. He’s not out to trip you up today. He just wants to know if you can help him.”

Sam certainly hoped he could, but it wasn’t that simple. He didn’t know enough about what was involved in running a sheep station to know if he could help.

“If I can’t, I guess I could always learn about sheep.”

“That’s the spirit,” Neil said. “We taught Caine. I can teach you if it comes to that, but you’ll be happier in the office, and Caine will be happier too.”

“I can’t believe how much you’ve mellowed,” Sam said. “I never thought I’d see the day when you were so loyal to a gay man.”

“It’s not about that,” Neil said. “They should have fired me for the way I acted after I found out about Caine, but they didn’t, and then Caine saved my life. I’m loyal to two of the best men I know. The fact that they’re a couple? Honestly, I try not to think about it, but it’s nothing compared to what they’ve done for me.”

“So if I meet someone one day?”

“You’ll always be my brother,” Neil replied. “And if you meet someone special and he makes you happy, that’s what matters. I still won’t want details, but I’m not Dad. Not anymore.”

Sam smiled. “Any advice for my interview?”

“Don’t bullshit him. If you don’t know something, say so. You can look up and learn what you need to. He respects honesty more than anything else.”

“Thanks,” Sam said. “I’ll remember that.”

Sam finished eating, doing his best not to telegraph his unease to the rest of the room. Caine and Macklin sat at a nearby table talking with several other jackaroos Sam hadn’t met yet, but it was obvious from the body language that they were well known to Caine and Macklin. Sam figured the two men knew everyone pretty well by the end of the summer, but it took a certain degree of familiarity to choose to sit at the table with the bosses. Two teens joined them at the table a moment later, obviously sure of their welcome, and Sam realized one of the boys closely resembled the youngest of the jackaroos.

“Chris and Seth Simms,” Neil said, following Sam’s gaze. “Chris is the one I was telling you about in Yass, the one who nearly died. Seth is his younger brother. And that’s Jesse Harris sitting next to Chris, and then Jason Thompson, the other kid, and his dad, Patrick, our head mechanic. They’re all year-rounders. Patrick’s wife, Carley, is around here somewhere, although I haven’t seen her this morning. She helps out in the bunkhouses and in the kitchen sometimes, when Kami lets her.”

“You realize you’re going to have to tell me all of this again in an hour,” Sam said. “I’ve never been good at names.”

“You’ll have time to meet everyone,” Neil said.

Caine and Macklin rose from their seats, then Macklin headed toward the door, and Caine came toward them. Neil tossed back the last of his coffee. “That’s my signal to get to work. Good luck with your interview.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Neil nodded and followed Macklin out the door.

“Don’t rush,” Caine said when Sam started to get up. “You can finish your breakfast. Just because Macklin believes the day can’t start early enough doesn’t mean we have to rush. You and I aren’t trying to breed a thousand sheep in the next week.”

“No, just figure out how to pay the men you employ and document it so everything adds up at the end of the year,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” Caine said. “Just that. I have a degree in business. That was supposed to be useful.”

“I’m sure it is,” Sam said, “but you got it at an American uni. If you were running the station over there, you’d know exactly what to do. I’ll bet we can get it sorted in a few days. I had to do payroll and taxes for the Smiths when I ran the office at their shop. The scale is different here, but one employee or fifty or five hundred, you still have to pay them, deduct payroll taxes, and track benefits.”

“Yes, and then there’s deductions for supplies and all the rest,” Caine said. “I know what would be deductible as a business expense back in the US, but not everything is the same. Every time I think I’ve got it figured out, I read something else and decide I don’t understand it at all.”

Sam finished the last of his eggs and picked up his coffee cup. The conversation had bolstered his courage. This might be a job interview, but Neil was right. Caine wasn’t looking to trip him up. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

“Just let me refill my coffee.”

Caine poured himself another cup of coffee and then led Sam into his office in the station house. For all that the building itself spoke of the age of the station, the interior of Caine’s office was every bit as modern as anything Sam had seen in Melbourne.

“Nice place you got here,” Sam commented.

Caine shrugged. “Uncle Michael still did everything in ledgers, although Macklin made him start using a computer the last few years, when his handwriting got illegible. I wasn’t even going to try using his ledgers, and his computer was so out of date that it was almost as bad. I figured if I was going to spend the money to update the office, I might as well update it completely and then I wouldn’t have to do it again anytime soon.”

“Makes sense to me,” Sam said. “It’ll make my life easier too, so I’m not about to complain. Want to show me what you’ve got?”

Caine turned on the computer and angled the monitor so Sam could see as well. He pulled up the payroll records. “See, here’s the problem,” he said. “We pay them on a monthly basis, but we only employ them eight months of the year, so I’m pretty sure we’re taking out too much in taxes, but I can’t figure out the formula for the right amount.”

Sam smiled. He could do this.

“J
EREMY
,
Neil’s gone with a couple others to bring a mob in from the north paddock, but there’s another mob to the south. I’ve got bodies but no one with experience except Jesse, and he doesn’t have a dog of his own,” Macklin said.

“And bad weather is heading this way,” Jeremy said, looking toward the highlands.”

“Exactly. Will you go with Jesse? Technically he’s in charge, but mostly because he knows where the sheep are.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “I’ll be his backup.”

Jeremy whistled for Arrow and crossed the station to the paddock behind the breeding sheds where they kept the station’s horses. A group of men had gathered, including the one Jeremy was looking for. “Harris?”

“Yeah, you riding with us today?”

“Macklin asked me to, yes,” Jeremy said neutrally.

“Well, saddle up. Daylight’s wasting.”

Jeremy hid the relief he felt at Harris’s words. He’d met with such hostility from so many quarters since his arrival that he’d started to expect the worst. Harris, at least, didn’t seem bothered by his presence.

“I don’t know the station’s stock. Got a suggestion which one I should ride?”

“Any of them except Ned,” Harris said, indicating a big sorrel gelding. “That one’s Macklin’s, and I’ve never seen anyone else even stay on him.”

From Emery, that would have been thrown out as a challenge, but Harris apparently intended it as a simple statement of fact.

“Then I’d better pick a different one,” Jeremy said with a grin. “I shouldn’t start my first full day on the station getting thrown like the greenest blow-in.”

Harris grinned back.

Jeremy threw the tack on the closest horse, a big bay mare, and mounted up. “Lead the way, boss,” he called to Harris. “Daylight’s wasting.”

Harris laughed and headed toward the far end of the valley. Once they were outside the valley gate, he led them off the roads and up onto the tablelands, heading steadily south. Jeremy studied the men around him. The youngest of the bunch, Simms, Jeremy thought his name was, rode closest to Harris, clearly at ease with the other man if not so at ease with his horse. He didn’t make obvious mistakes, but the way he sat in the saddle showed a lack of experience. The others were almost as ill at ease with their horses and didn’t seem much more comfortable with Harris. It made Jeremy wonder just what had gone on that summer at Lang Downs.

Despite the apparent inexperience of the jackaroos riding with them, the station didn’t show any signs of neglect, which was good, but it still made Jeremy curious. The last time he had visited Lang Downs—three years ago, at least—everything had seemed to run almost by itself, as if everyone knew what needed to be done without being told. He doubted most of the men he was riding with today had the slightest idea what they were doing beyond following orders. He wanted to ask but wasn’t sure how best to broach the subject.

“How long have you been at Lang Downs?” he settled for asking Harris.

“Since the beginning of the season. I heard a rumor about the bosses and figured this might be a better place for me than some of the other stations I’d worked at,” Harris said.