Chapter 1
The sun beat relentlessly on Darcy Stokes’ red-checked shirt, and a trickle of sweat ran down his back. He lifted his Akubra and wiped the sweat from his brow. Stifling heat was a constant in his life, one he embraced or ignored. His bigger concern was the trough float, which wouldn’t shut off, wasting precious water. He swore he’d fixed it last week, so why was it broken again?
Maybe he was losing it. The past two and a half weeks had been hit after hit, starting with his parents’ sudden deaths. Perhaps his brain couldn’t take any more bad shit happening. He couldn’t afford to lose it. He’d already cost the sheep station far more than it could sustain. It was his fault they were on the brink of bankruptcy. If only he hadn’t pushed his father so hard… He squashed down the guilt and, with a final twist of his spanner, tightened the nut and tested the float. The water squeaked through the pipe before gushing out in a warm stream. As it reached the level, it cut off like it was supposed to.
Relief filled him. If it hadn’t worked, he would have had to replace the whole mechanism, and that was an extra expense they couldn’t afford. He shoved his tools in the toolkit and splashed the warm water on his face. Mid-afternoon was always the most viciously hot. Getting to his feet, he scanned the land that had been in his family for over a century. Many would view the rich red dirt and scraggly low shrubs as ugly, but to him it held a harsh beauty. It was home.
For as long as they kept the debtors at bay.
He prayed he and his siblings could come up with a solution so it would stay in their family for another century.
The occasional baa of the sheep soothed him. Most of the sheep in this paddock would give birth in the next couple of weeks. He’d move them closer to the farmhouse on Monday to further protect them from wild dogs and dingoes.
His toolkit clanked as he tossed it into the tray of his ute, then he climbed into the cab and radioed Matt. “All done here. Heading back now.”
Matt’s response came back a moment later. “Roger. I’m almost done at the windmill. I swear you gave me the hardest job.”
Darcy chuckled at the gripe. “Knew you’d be able to handle it, mate.” He could picture Matt grumbling to himself.
“Flatterer,” Matt answered. “See you back at the house.”
Darcy started the engine, cranking the aircon to high. The radio crackled.
“Darce, are you still at the station?” It was Amy, their campground guest liaison and his brother, Brandon’s fiancée.
“Yeah.” Where else was he supposed to be? The answer hit him the moment Amy spoke.
“You need to pick up Lara from pony club.”
Shit. He shoved the ute into gear as he calculated the quickest way to get into town. How could he have forgotten his daughter? “On my way now,” he told Amy. It would take him over an hour, but if he pushed it, he’d only be a few minutes late—ten at the most.
The ute bumped over the rough red track as his heart raced and he cursed his forgetfulness. He hated letting down his daughter, especially with her still grieving over his parents. Normally Amy drove into town with Lara’s horse and picked up Lara from school to take her to the pony club, but today camp guests were coming in late and Amy had asked Darcy to do it.
It was one small thing. Amy had even taken Lara to school, dropped the horse at the pony club this morning, and arranged for Lara to get a lift from school with a friend so Darcy could work as late as possible before having to leave.
He was an idiot.
The idea of Lara waiting by herself while the other parents picked up their children made his chest squeeze.
It had been just the two of them almost since the moment Lara was born. Darcy’s ex, Sofia, had taken less than a month to decide that having a baby at eighteen and living on a sheep station in the middle of nowhere was not the life she wanted. So she’d left them both.
Ripped his heart right out of his chest.
And if Sofia couldn’t bear to stay in a place she’d grown up in, what chance did he have of finding a woman who loved this land as much as he did?
She’d left him with a tiny bundle of joy he’d no idea how to care for. Sofia’s parents had wanted custody of Lara, but even as young as he was, he’d never seriously considered it. Lara had snuggled her head into his chest the first time he’d held her in his arms, and the moment he’d brushed her fine, dark hair, he was a goner. He would die to protect her.
But he would have been completely lost without his mother. The sharp pang of loss had him rubbing his chest. She’d taught him to make formula, how to test the heat on the crook of his elbow, and refused to change dirty nappies if he was there to do it.
She’d been adamant he take responsibility for his actions, even on those early nights when Lara wouldn’t sleep. He’d spent hours walking Lara around the yard, so as not to disturb his family, and yet his mother was always there when he came back inside, to offer support. She’d take care of Lara in the mornings, so Darcy could get a couple of extra hours of sleep.
He shook his head. Always there for him—until now.
Lara had lost another mother-figure in her life.
He blinked to clear the tears from his vision.
He reached the gate which led onto the main road and jumped out to open it. He frowned. The chain dangled rather than being wrapped around the post. A strong wind would blow it open. Maybe one of the camp guests had been this way.
