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The chopper landed softly on the helipad, with a great view of the dried flood plain that ran towards Stone’s house that occupied a small hill.

‘Can I do anything?’ Romy asked Stone, who’d been quiet all afternoon.

‘I do it every night on my own. I think I know what I’m doing.

’ The sarcasm was barely veiled in his voice as he pulled out her drone case from the chopper and left it by the side door.

‘You can take the spare scooter, or the ATV, back to the house.’ Swaggering back to the helicopter, he didn’t even look at her.

‘Did I do something wrong?’

He frowned at her over his shoulder. ‘I’m just refuelling. The fewer people around, the better. Avgas is a tricky beast.’

‘Oh, okay.’ She felt silly now, dragging her drone case to the scooter, then balancing it on the floor between her boots. Adjusting her backpack over her shoulders, she peered back at Stone.

With the impressive outback sunset silhouetting Stone’s strong frame, he worked on the helicopter that he used like a car.

She raised her camera to take a few shots, only to pause. Instead, she lowered it to take in the details that the camera could never truly capture—the essence of the man himself.

Stone was the most interesting man she’d ever met. He flew helicopters into dangerous places. He fought a monster with a chair to save her, and then he tenderly held baby crocodiles as he inspected every one of them before putting them into the new quarantine tanks at Craig’s farm.

To Romy, the ponds they’d borrowed from Chook looked like oversized aquariums, made of thick black plastic tubs, as if someone had sliced a water tank in half and fitted them with heaters and filters.

They’d added layers of sand to create resting spots on land beneath a series of warming lights, keeping the baby crocodiles safe inside a shed, away from predators.

For the past few hours Stone had teased Amara, calling her Duchess with that brotherly fondness in his voice.

He told bad dad jokes to Craig’s wife Izzy, then was like a brother to Craig.

While Finn watched over them all, between scrutinising the drone footage that Romy had taken on the way back from Chook’s place.

Even though their personalities clashed occasionally, each member of the Stock Squad had a unique set of skills that Finn had cleverly used to create a team that worked well together.

They weren’t the type of staff who’d watch the clock for knock-off time, or balk at job descriptions.

They went that extra mile for the welfare of the livestock and their owners.

But Romy also knew time was running out for successfully recovering the stolen cold stock.

Seeing those baby crocodiles happily paddle in the new tank, where she got to handfeed them alongside Amara and Izzy, was such a thrill.

From the second she’d met the guy, all the hours she’s spent with Stone had been an adventure, taking her breath away as he hauled her high into the air, piloting his helicopter, while being so warm towards her.

Now he’d gone cold. Stone cold.

What did she do?

She gunned the scooter to make the trek back to the house. Tonight, she’d make dinner to ensure no repeat of last night’s debacle of her hives.

‘Hello, Finley.’ She leaned down to pat the little turtle waiting at the side gate. She dragged her drone case off the scooter and had to shuffle inside. ‘Easy, Finley, I can’t get in.’

The turtle rolled back, his head up and his mouth wide as if smiling, the way a dog would happily greet his owner.

‘Aren’t you the perfect thing to see at the end of a long day, my little friend.’ She wanted to cuddle the turtle, but the fin on his back made it awkward. ‘I’ll find a treat for you in the kitchen. How’s that?’

In the dining area, she plugged her cameras into the wall to recharge, while downloading today’s footage. After his coldness, she felt guilty about her camera equipment taking up space on his dining room table.

At least Finley seemed happy munching down on some lettuce.

She quickly showered and set about making dinner, keen to not take advantage of Stone’s generosity—especially when she needed him for his skillset.

In the kitchen, she started pulling out ingredients, hoping for some inspiration for dinner. Her hands wrapped around a luscious mango, its rich fruity fragrance was like the smell of summer. ‘How does chicken with a mango salsa sound, Finley?’

The turtle keenly eyed off the fruit.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll give you some.’

After feeding Finley again, she set about making a tropical mango salsa sauce for the chicken, along with a quick garden salad. The fragrant, colourful combination had her belly churning with hunger.

With plate in hand, she went to the barbecue with a splendid view of the pool. There was no sign of Stone.

As the chicken sizzled on the barbecue, she set out their plates, but still no sign of Stone.

Now she was worried.

With the meal resting in the kitchen, she peered out to the boardwalk that led to the hangar and saw the second scooter parked there. When did Stone get back?

Opening the glass gate, she followed the path to the right that led to the boys. It took her a few tries, and a ton of courage, to follow the path. All while holding her breath to face those prehistoric beasts—especially after today.

But she did it. Facing her fear, she found all three pet crocodiles calmly chewing on some dried fish, completely ignoring her.

Stone must have just fed them.

She rushed back down to the house and listened hard for the shower—but there was only silence. ‘Stone?’

‘Out here.’

She found him sitting in one of the outdoor deckchairs, tucked around the side of the bar. ‘There you are.’

‘Here I am.’ He took a deep mouthful of his beer.

‘I cooked dinner.’

‘I can smell it.’

‘You hungry?’

‘Not really. But thanks for cooking. You go ahead.’ He didn’t even look at her, drinking mouthful after mouthful of his beer, as if settling in for a session.

She sat on the spare deckchair beside him. ‘What’s wrong? I can see something is bothering you.’

‘You’ve just met me. How would you know?’

‘You’ve been weird with me ever since we left Chook’s place.’

‘You were almost killed today. You were put at risk—when you should have been safe.’ His brow ruffled. It wasn’t promising, but at least it was better than the stony-faced expression from earlier.

‘But I’m okay now.’ Especially after having the courage to walk past the boys.

‘You weren’t then.’

‘I know.’ She’d never known true terror until that moment. ‘But you were there. You saved me.’

‘Not my job.’ Stone’s voice was so controlled, yet so surly, as his upper lip curled with fury.

‘I never said it was.’ She sat back. ‘I think I should stay elsewhere.’

‘Good idea. The pub has rooms, and it’s just across from the train station that can take you back to the city. Or you can catch the mail plane to Darwin. I’ll drop you off in town in the morning.’ He approached the bar and dropped his empty beer bottle in the bin with a clink.

‘What happened?’

Ignoring her, he turned his back on her to dig around in the fridge for another beer.

‘Where is the happy-go-lucky, cheeky and charming chopper pilot? Where did this surly, whatever mood you’re in, come from?’

‘I can have moods. It is my house, Romy.’ He tossed the bottle cap into the bin, and took a deep mouthful from his fresh beer, still with his back to her.

‘I know it is. And you’ve been so incredibly generous. I will pay you for your time.’

‘I don’t want your money. Keep it for your film.

’ He flopped back onto the chair, cranked the handle and lay back.

‘Hello, ol’ mate.’ He scooped up the turtle to let it rest across his chest. ‘What grand adventures have you been up to today, Finley? Did you get into a fight in the jungle? Or did you meet some old pirate, and save some fairy princess from a man-eating crocodile, too?’

‘I’m not a fairy princess! ’ Her outraged words echoed around Finley’s Pond. ‘I can handle the hard stuff.’

‘Sure, you can.’ But the way he looked at her made her feel useless.

‘I can. And I have, when I’m out in the field filming.’

‘That’s because you don’t get involved. You observe life from a distance—hiding behind your camera like it’s a bloody shield.’

Arsehole . ‘Is it any wonder why? Today’s a prime example—a crocodile flew at me.’ She stabbed at her chest.

‘It was after the fish, not you.’

‘I was up close and personal with that beast. If I’d been safely behind my camera, like I usually am, you wouldn’t have had to save me. Remember? You put the fishing rod in my hand.’

‘I was giving you a chance to learn a simple life skill.’ He was so cold, even if he was being tender with the turtle. ‘Which proves my point. You hide behind that camera because you’re scared of the real world.’

She gritted her teeth, to stop snarling with anger at the smug prick. ‘What are you doing? Picking a fight with me on purpose or something? What is wrong!’

He put the turtle on the ground. ‘Watch your tone, you’re scaring Finley.’ Who seemed fine.

But she did lower her voice, to not scare the poor turtle. ‘I am not moving until you tell me what your problem is.’

‘Why do you want to know?’ He adjusted the back of his chair, crossed his legs and cradled his beer against his chest. ‘Going to put it in your movie, are you? I’m not your test subject.’

She gasped as the fury built at the insult. ‘I would never do that. I know what not to share.’

He narrowed his eyes at her, unconvinced. ‘And how did you learn that lesson? Did some director tell you that?’

‘I…’ She stopped and got up from her seat. ‘I don’t need this.’

‘Oh, I see.’ He jumped out of his own seat and followed her. ‘Something happened, didn’t it?’

‘No.’

‘Ooh, I bet that’s why you’re always following everyone else’s lead, instead of being the director.’

‘It’s what I do.’