Mountain Ash Read Online Free Page B

shade of the shed. ‘Last I heard I could do what I liked. I’m grown up too and old enough, although lookin’ at me teeth you mightn’t say that.’ He gave another gummy grin as he walked back out into the burning sun.
    â€˜C’mon,’ said Nate, still sitting on his horse, peering down at the other bloke. ‘What took me so long to do what?’
    Wally Price sighed and pushed his battered Akubra sideways to scratch his bald head. ‘I’m just saying that there comes a time in your life when ya decide to either choose a woman for keeps or be alone.’ The old man pulled his hat back down tight across his forehead. ‘Me? I chose the woman. The woman I chose then wanted another bloke, someone with more dosh than me. So then I figured on finding another one,but that took too much effort. All them flowers, teas and shit. I couldn’t be fucked. So here I am, thirty years on, single and, well, reasonably happy. I got a roof over me head, three meals a day, work to do and a bit of cash at the end of the week to piss up against the wall. What more do I want, I ask you?’
    The man fixed Nate with another gummy smile. ‘But you? Well, you’re different. You need a woman. A good one, mind you, and I think you’ve just made the right choice.’
    â€˜What? Danielle?!’
    â€˜Fuck no! Not her.’ Wally almost looked aghast, which was saying something. His expressions usually only shifted from mild surprise to a grin. ‘She’s a baby. You gunna wait until you get the right one, a good one, and then you’ll settle down on that fancy property of your dad’s up in them hills and have billy lids until your dick falls off.’
    â€˜Hardly,’ said Nate, with a laugh. ‘I’m rather attached to my appendage.’
    â€˜Yeah, well, that’s if you can find it,’ said Wally.
    Nate was off his horse and had the old man in a headlock, scruffing him before Wally could say ‘Here comes the boss.’
    â€˜McGregor! Let him go.’ Ferris Van Over walked up to the two men. ‘You finished yarding those steers?’
    Nate released Wally and grabbed his hat from the dirt where it had fallen. ‘Yes, sir.’ One did not call Mr Van Over ‘Ferris’. Usually he was a fly-in, fly-out boss, lived in Brisbane most of the time. But recently, for some reason, he’d decided it was time his children had a taste of rural life. The fellas suspected the oldest kid, a sly little bugger, had got into some kind of trouble in town.
    Nate belted his hat against the hitching rail to dust off the worst of the grunge and slapped it back on his head. ‘What would you like us to do now, boss?’
    â€˜Take a break. The road train will be here at six tonight. I want those cattle loaded and out of here.’
    â€˜Yes, Mr Van Over.’ This came from Wally. He was looking anywhere but at the big boss. He obviously hated being caught doing the wrong thing and Van Over wasn’t a Territorian – if he was he’d take skylarking in the vein that it was meant. The station owner was too city for that.
    â€˜Nate and me’ll make sure those decks are loaded,’ said Wally. His tone was one step short of grovelling; Nate guessed that came from the man’s recently professed need for security. Mount Elizabeth was Wally’s home, a roof over his head plus board and keep. And it was all right for Nate. He could just head south back down to the mountains of East Gippsland if he had to. Regardless of what his old man had said in the past, he wasn’t the type of bloke to turn his son away. Especially when said son was the heir apparent.
    â€˜Where’s Trumby?’ snapped Van Over.
    Wally took up the challenge. ‘Gone to town, boss. We needed more fencing materials.’
    Nate waited to see if Wally was going to mention the head stockman was also trying to find his missus and patch up a fight