But the tension coming off this lot of hotheads, it was like something was about to snap.And soon.
Behind the bar stood Mean-Rene.Beside her stood Billy, dressed like an old jazz player, his fedora tilted low as he hooked a thumb under his suspenders and hitched them higher on his shoulder.
‘You’ve opened early,’ Taryn said to Billy, dumping her case down with a thud.
Billy nodded.‘What are you doing back?’
‘I’d like to get another room…’ But did they have any with this many people in town?
Taryn’s eyes swept the front bar again, then locked onto the one person who wasn’t panicking.
Samantha.
The publican, who the locals calledGod.
Amara said the woman was smarter than she ever let on.Silently standing at the back of the room, casually sipping her coffee like this happened every day of the week.
‘Watch my case.’Taryn made her way over.‘What’s going on?’
‘Red and Two-bob Bob were caught stealing cattle from Warraga Downs.’Samantha gave a slow nod at the crowd.‘And there’s nothing this mob hates more than someone stealing cattle.’
‘I can see that.But the anger?’
‘That’s because Lydia and young Brodie were the ones who caught Red and Bob in the act.But then Red rammed his ute into Lydia’s car to stop them.’
‘Are they okay?’
‘Lydia is in the ICU, and we’re waiting on news.Brodie got pretty banged up, too.Poor kid’s been through hell, that one…’ Samantha sipped on her coffee, as if to swallow her emotions, while keeping a watchful eye on the room.‘And with no Lydia or Brodie around, there was no one to open the stockyards this morning.’
‘So you opened the pub instead?’
‘I’ve got a special licence for emergencies,’ Samantha added.‘I use it during floods, bushfires, or cyclones on Christmas Day.We don’t have a town hall for them to share their grievances, so they come here.’She nodded at the crowded room.
Taryn’s brow lifted.‘You’re making money off this?’
Samantha smiled, slow and unapologetic.‘I do have a business to run.But a large per cent of today’s sales are going straight to Lydia and Brodie, should they need anything.There are a few hats going around if you want to add to the cause.’
Samantha then leaned over and said with a seriousness Taryn had never seen in the publican, ‘You’d better cross your fingers that Lydia makes it or there will be no holding this mob back.’
‘Why?’
Samantha looked out over the room of grumbling men and their coiled fists.‘You do know what this is, don’t you?’
Taryn arched an eyebrow.
‘It’s not just a pub full of angry stockmen.It’s a bedside vigil.For her.For Lydia.’
‘Is this normal?Remember I’m from the outside.’And Taryn felt every bit the outsider.
‘Lydia’s not just the clerk—she’s the mother of the stockyards.She’s been there thirty-five years and never took a sick day.Through heatwaves and floods, Lydia is the one they all see first thing in the morning.She’s that voice on the radio telling them where to go, who to sign off with, and what to do.She’s that warm, motherly voice in a place full of blokes who don’t know how to ask for help.The one who holds their secrets, handing them their stock cheques, while she pats their hands when they’re too proud to cry.She’ll scold them when they’ve mucked up with their missus, and then tell them exactly how to fix it.And I’d bet she’s told over half the men in this room what to buy their wives for Christmas.’
Samantha’s voice softened, but it didn’t waver.‘Lydia has a thing for making leather goods.And she’s probably made leather belts and muster-ready radio holsters for every man in this room.She’s fixed more buttons on their shirts and patched more barbed-wire tears on their jeans, than anyone would dare count.
‘You see, Red didn’tjustbetray Lydia.He betrayedallof them.’Samantha tipped her chin toward the crowd.‘They trusted him becauseshedid.And Red hurt Brodie, too—and that boy,’ she said with a glare loaded with such absolute fire it made Taryn step back, ‘has already been through hell.And if Lydia dies?You’ll have a lynch mob on your hands before the sun’s fully up.’
‘They need someone to speak to them,’ Taryn implored.‘It’s your place.’
Samantha peered over the room, arms folded, reading the crowd the way some people read weather patterns—like she already knew which way the wind would turn.‘If I stand up now, it’ll stop being a legal matter.This room?Sure, it’ll listen to me.But that’s not how this should go down.’
