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Craig used Izzy’s hand to help him get out of the ute’s passenger seat. Not that he needed the help, but he was taking every chance he got with what little time they had left together. Plus, he wasn’t keen on hiding back in the house again, especially now he was out and about. He was going to take full advantage of it—even if this visit wasn’t a happy reunion. ‘Hi, Ginny.’

‘I’m so sorry, Craig.’ Ginny squinted, her hand shading her many wrinkles, with her grey hair piled loosely on her head. ‘I’m so sorry Wraith did that to you.’

‘It was my fault.’ Even if Craig wanted to hide his injuries, he still had to balance on one of his crutches.

‘Did you get the flowers I sent you?’

‘I did…’ He peeked at Izzy, who’d had a weird fascination with his flowers at the hospital and probably remembered not only the women’s names but every bunch.

‘The carnations were lovely.’ Izzy dropped her head, as if ashamed of her previous comments over those flowers.

So she should. He may be a shameless flirt, but he hadn’t slept with all those women who’d sent him flowers. ‘Thanks for the flowers, Ginny. You didn’t need to. It was my fault for not watching my back in the rodeo arena.’

‘What brings you out here then?’

‘I heard someone pinched Wraith.’

‘Bloody mongrel duffers…’ Ginny wiped her mouth as if to rid some foul taste, then narrowed her eyes at Izzy. ‘You the wife?’ Ginny scratched at her baggy shirt, which hung over her blue work pants. They were tucked into black-and-white polka-dotted gumboots, caked with mud and flecked with straw, as if she’d been mucking out the stables. ‘Does she know she married a dog?’

‘ Ginny! ’ Craig winced, not daring to look at Izzy, who’d huffed with heat.

‘Well, what else can I call you, a tart who can’t keep his fly up?’

‘We’re separated.’ Izzy thankfully saved his hide from Ginny’s lecture. ‘And we’re still friends.’

‘Friends, huh?’ Craig arched an eyebrow at Izzy.

Izzy raised her chin in defiance, or anger over Ginny’s reminder that he was a dog, but that pose meant Izzy was digging in for a fight. ‘Not if you keep picking on me by playing back-seat driver, we’re not.’

‘It’s my ute.’

‘So? At least I can drive.’

‘Don’t tempt me into getting you a driver’s uniform, like a chauffeur.’ After all, she was almost there with her tailored trousers and sexy suspenders.

Izzy scowled, with her voice low. ‘Do you want to walk home?’

The thing was, Izzy would leave him just to prove her point.

Ginny laughed so loudly her jowls wobbled. ‘Sounds like me and my old man.’

‘How is Frank?’ The thought of Ginny’s poor husband drained the fight right out of him.

‘Good. Real good. No more chemo treatments. He’s finally home and back out in the paddocks with the boys. Come on, I’m heading that way now, and maybe you can tell us what happened, coz that federal copper, with all them tatts—’

‘Are you talking about Finn?’

‘Nasty-looking bugger, isn’t he? If I was a crim and had that kinda fella after me, I’d do the Harold Holt and bolt, too.’

‘Finn does give the impression he’d be at home running a cartel.’ Izzy said it so casually it had Craig snorting to stop the belly laugh.

‘Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?’ Ginny screwed her nose up as she nodded.

‘Finn’s not like that.’ No wonder Finn was asking for Craig’s help with the locals.

‘But that Finn fella reckoned you might visit. And I know you’ve always been a bloody good tracker. Maybe you can tell us how they got in.’ Ginny led them towards the old Toyota.

‘Look at that,’ whispered Izzy as she walked beside Craig. ‘It’s like something from a post-apocalyptic zombie movie.’ She pointed to the old Toyota Landcruiser, with the vehicle’s top half sheared clean off. There were no windows, doors, or glass windscreens, but a network of steel rails and mesh that covered the sides, leading to a large mechanical arm on the driver’s side.

‘It’s a bull catcher. They’d need it if they breed rodeo bulls.’

Izzy tilted her head at the vehicle that looked like something straight out of a Mad Max movie set. ‘It’s like the one Charlie had at Elsie Creek Station. The Razorback?’

Again, another mention about Charlie. Only this time it didn’t hurt so much at losing his mentor, not when Izzy’s eyes were so bright, as she inspected the dusty bull catcher like it was a shiny new toy.

‘Well, you’d better keep playing passenger princess if you expect to ride in that thing.’

‘Oi?’ He was getting sick of that name, and she knew it by the sweet and rare sound of her giggle.

Quick, call the fun police, peoples. Isobel Callahan was giggling as she skipped towards the bull catcher. It was a miracle seeing her like this that it made his heart bloom like some rare flower that only flowered once a year at midnight.

‘Will you be okay back there, missy?’ Ginny asked Izzy who was scrambling onto the back tray in her fancy lawyer trousers and suspenders.

‘I’m fine.’ Izzy’s smile was wide with excitement. She tugged her ponytail tighter, then took a firm grip on the headboard’s rail, ready to fly.

‘Haven’t you got a hat?’

‘It’s on our shopping list.’ Craig slowly eased into the passenger seat. ‘We just thought we’d come see you first.’ Even if he wanted to ride on the back with Izzy and share that excited energy with her, his ribs and leg weren’t ready to play that game, not today. Two weeks to go .

‘Talking about shopping…’ Behind the steering wheel, Ginny started up the beast with a cloud of diesel smoke. ‘Can I get a couple more of your bull ropes there, Craig?’

‘Didn’t I just give you some?’

‘You know how Frank gets. He gave one to his nephew as a prezzie.’

‘But I made them for your sons.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m doubling up on my order for a baker’s dozen. I’ll pay you for it.’

‘Sure, I guess so.’ Craig tried to remember if he had enough supplies at home. At least it’d give him something to do, as he was sick of being housebound. Which is probably why he was taking this long detour home today. Craig wasn’t a cop, he was a stockman. But he could at least try and help Finn.

‘Can you tell me what happened?’ Craig asked Ginny, as she drove through the paddocks in their rough-and-ready bull catcher that needed a serious overhaul of its suspension.

In the back, Izzy looked so wild and free. She was stunning to watch with the wind in her hair and her smile never dimming.

‘Well, them mongrels did something to our security cameras.’ Ginny pointed to the tall poles set at regular intervals, the camera’s solar panels catching the sunlight. ‘Frank put the screens in the kitchen, so we could watch our livestock from the dinner table, but we saw nothing. Our sons even got some special ones that set off alarms if anyone gets too close. But they never did.’ Ginny gripped the steering wheel tightly as they tore through the paddock, forcing Craig to clutch his ribs with each jolt over the grassy tufts and uneven mounds.

Izzy squeezed his shoulder, helping him stay in place.

‘Oh, blimey, I’m sorry, lad. I forgot Wraith gave you a cowboy cuddle.’ Ginny steered back onto the track. It wasn’t much smoother.

‘All good, Ginny…’ Craig tried to breathe past the pain. But when Izzy tapped his shoulder, holding out his painkillers and a water bottle she had stashed in her handbag, he could’ve kissed her right then and there. ‘Thank you.’

He swallowed the pills and washed them down. ‘If you had cameras set, how did they get the cattle?’

‘Me sons reckoned they put the cameras on a loop. Don’t know how.’

‘They’d tape it, then replay it through the lines,’ said Izzy casually over their heads. ‘Hackers do it all the time. They can tape, cut, and edit it to turn one minute of playing time into an hour and you wouldn’t know they’d done it.’

‘That’s what must’ve happened.’ Ginny nodded at Izzy, then said to Craig, ‘I like her. Why’ve you gotta play around with them others in town when you’ve got yourself a smart cookie like her?’

Good question. Once, he thought he had a good answer for that—but now he wasn’t so sure. And he wasn’t going to get into it with Ginny. ‘When did you realise Wraith was gone?’

‘Yesterday morning. We lost Wraith, two special breeding heifers, and half a dozen bull calves. Wraith’s progeny. All gone. Them mongrels knew what to take, too.’ Ginny pulled up on a hill that gave them a grand view of the fenced network of paddocks.

‘What do you mean?’ In the back, Izzy crouched down to listen.

‘Can you tell the difference in the stock we’ve got out there, missy?’ Ginny pointed to the paddock, where white and brown-coated cattle scattered over the grasses like salt sprinkled on a dinner plate of vegetables.

‘No.’

‘Well, them mongrel duffers could. They took the best of the rough stock we had. Especially Wraith and his sons. And those two ladies they got, they were the daughters of two champion bulls. We’d just finished quarantining them and were getting ready for them to meet Wraith. The thing was, the stolen stock were in five different paddocks. And we still don’t know which direction the mongrels came onto the property.’

‘I do.’ Craig unfolded from the passenger seat, and with his crutch under his arm, he hobbled into the field. ‘Look, tracks.’ He pointed to the crushed dirt. ‘You don’t do quads, do you?’

‘No. Only bull catchers. We’ve got five of ‘em.’

‘But this…’ Craig winced at the stabbing pain in his leg as he crouched down to the grass.

He did not miss Izzy’s concerned look.

Brushing a hand over the soil, he read the tread pattern. ‘These are from ATV tyres. One’s a four-wheeler…’ He removed his sunglasses. ‘And the other’s a six-wheeler. Now they’re rare.’

‘But I would’ve heard them ATVs, and the dogs would’ve too. The neighbour’s got one, and it’s got a grunty engine.’

‘Could it be an electric ATV?’ Izzy asked. ‘I read somewhere that they’re quieter than the normal petrol engines.’

Craig nodded, as he again accepted Izzy’s help to stand. ‘You wouldn’t have heard them, Ginny. And by their tracks, they were towing trailers that were low enough for Wraith to walk on board.’ He scuffed his boot over the grass and started following the tracks.

‘Would an electric ATV have the guts to tow a bull like Wraith?’

‘It’d be a big strain on the engine, and the battery wouldn’t last long, so it’d be a slow trip…’ He stopped and peered around to the boundary fence line. ‘Which means they’d have a truck close by to help them get away.’

Again, he hobbled along, following the tracks in the field, trying to read the story in the soil and bent grasses, while Izzy walked beside him.

‘Where’s your lecture telling me to go sit in the car?’

‘The doctor said you needed to do some walking. I just brought the water bottle.’ Izzy peered over the land and gave a soft sigh that matched her smile. ‘It’s really pretty country out here.’

‘Thank you, Missy. My dad got it, purely for breeding rodeo bulls. He loved them. And I’ve kept up the family tradition, hoping it’d stop my sons from riding in rodeos.’

‘Did it work?’

‘Nah.’ Ginny pointed to the large homemade rodeo ring they had near the sheds. ‘My husband, Frank, was a bull rider. Retired now.’

‘Like someone else I know.’ Izzy tugged on an earlobe, hiding her grin. ‘So how do you travel with a stash of rodeo bulls? I can’t imagine the Hilton having room for the bulls at their hotels.’

‘We’ve got a specially built bull trailer for our truck, which comes with bunks. We all take turns driving from one rodeo to the next.’

‘Are the bulls okay with travelling?’

‘Oh, yeah. The rodeo organisers make my bulls feel like kings. They’ll even ship in fresh sand for them. And Wraith loves the sandpit, he’ll flick it around like a toddler at the beach.’ Ginny grinned, only for it to disappear with a sigh as she looked over her land. ‘Then, while on the road, and in between rodeos we’ll stay at other farms for the bulls to do a bit of rutting.’

Izzy looked at Craig for an answer.

‘Breeding. They’ll put the bull in with a group of heifers for a fee,’ he explained quietly.

‘Who looks after your farm while you’re away?’ Izzy asked.

‘I’ve got five sons, and a daughter-in-law who has blessed us with our first grandchild.’

‘Aww, congratulations.’ Izzy sounded like she really meant it, too.

Ginny smiled wide. ‘I think it’s what helped motivate Frank to get better, so he could come home and be with the family. Craig came to our boy’s wedding. Where did you have yours?’

‘Courthouse, Darwin,’ replied Izzy. Her dark brown eyes met his, bringing to light the memory shared between them.

Craig and Izzy had wanted their wedding to be intimate with just the two of them. They told no one. And on that day Izzy truly stole his breath, his heart, and his soul when she’d looked him in the eye and said I do .

The memory ignited something in his soul again, that he slipped one arm over her shoulders with the need to keep her close. ‘Don’t panic, it helps me get my balance on the turf with my leg.’ It was his excuse, and he was going to take it.

‘I’m really sorry for what Wraith did to you, Craig. Wraith can be such a sweet boy.’

‘It’s all good, Ginny. That’s just the sport.’ Balancing on the crutch, he gazed over the field. ‘I can see how they did it.’

‘How?’ Izzy asked.

He pointed to the layout of the field. ‘They came in through that side boundary fence, and must have travelled down the neighbour’s firebreak.’

‘That’s Meckett’s cattle station. Good fella, he is.’

‘I know. I did a few musters for him.’ Craig then pointed to the paddocks that rolled out below them. ‘You can see the ATV’s trek through the fences. How many fences did they cut?’

‘Eleven of ‘em. We’re still sorting out the mob.’

‘If you said the stock were the best of your property,’ Izzy asked, while pointing to the mob of cattle, ‘how did they know which one to take?’

‘That’s what’s got me and my boys stumped.’ Ginny shook her head while staring at the paddocks. ‘Ya see, we only did the paddock rotation just the day before, shifting the calves from the house paddock to the one over there, and had Wraith moved closer to meet his new girls. We’d only just finished tucking them up at sunset, then went back to the house to watch them on the cameras over dinner. Come morning, we found our stock all mixed up.’ Ginny pointed to a field of green grasses that held grazing cattle of different ages.

‘Sorry, but all of your stock looks the same to me.’ Izzy shrugged, but her pretty, dark eyes keenly took in the scenery. No doubt counting cattle, clouds, and fence lines.

‘Which means it was someone who knew what to look for.’ Craig sighed.

‘Someone has been watching your place for a while, then?’ Again, Izzy shielded her eyes with her hand, reminding him to get her a hat, as they searched for potential places to spy. But thick scrublands surrounded the place, it was impossible to narrow it down to just one spot.

‘What did Finn ask you when he showed up?’ Because Craig wasn’t a cop trained to ask questions.

‘If we had any staff.’ Ginny shrugged, hooking her thumbs into the pockets of her work pants. ‘But it’s just me and the boys, no outsiders. Then that Finn fella wanted to know if we had any visitors to the place.’

‘Did you, besides us?’ Craig asked, while watching Izzy slowly turn on the grass, taking in all the details. Izzy would have made a brilliant detective, but she preferred to work with paper and puzzles, not with people.

‘Just the usual crowd.’

‘Who might that be?’ Izzy asked.

‘We get the rodeo organisers who come and check the bulls to pick which ones they want for their shows. We had a fair few visits after you got hurt wanting to check on Wraith.’ Ginny fidgeted with her fingers as her voice dropped. ‘There was this mob who came to investigate your accident.’

‘I told them it wasn’t Wraith’s fault.’

‘But I am sorry Wraith did that to you.’

Craig gave Ginny’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘That’s the game of rodeo, Ginny. Every rodeo rider knows this when we climb on board.’ It was like playing Russian roulette with the reaper.

‘Do you have the names of these visitors?’ Izzy was persistent in her questioning. He had to give her credit.

Ginny nodded. ‘I gave a list to that Finn fella and his young offsider. She was a pretty little policewoman. Comes from a family sheep station in South Australia, she said. Do you do any farming, Izzy?’

‘I just planted my first crop of tomatoes.’ Izzy bowed her head as if embarrassed by her lack of farming knowledge. He slid his arm over her shoulders to console her, and for the ease of taking the weight off his leg.

‘What do you do then?’

‘Um…’

Craig guessed her hesitation, as some people disliked her profession. ‘Izzy’s a lawyer. One of the good ones, too. So if anyone gives you any trouble over Wraith, I want you to call Izzy. She’ll look after you and Wraith.’

‘I will?’ Izzy couldn’t shrug with his arm over her shoulders.

‘My word.’ Ginny’s eyes widened. ‘You really are a good sort. Too good for this blond-haired, handsome lot of trouble.’ Ginny playfully punched Craig’s chest.

‘ Oomph. ’ Craig clutched his chest. It was like a punch of heated pain slicing through his lungs.

‘Aww, crikey. I’m really sorry, Craig, I forgot.’

‘All good, Ginny.’ Even if the searing pain made it a struggle to breathe. He crouched over with hands on his knees, hoping the stupid crutch didn’t collapse on him.

‘Can you bring the bull catcher down, Ginny?’ Izzy held on to Craig, to help keep his balance. It sucked.

‘I’ll be right back. Then we’ll take you home for a cuppa. Got some fresh sausage rolls for smoko. And if you’re gonna look for Wraith, I’ll pack you his favourite treat.’

‘What do you give a bull? Chocolate? Gummy bears? Biscuits?’

‘Are you hungry, Izzy?’ Craig arched an eyebrow at her as he stood, hugging his sore ribs, while balancing on the dumb crutch.

‘I’m just wondering. I know dogs like liver treats, and cats like fish treats or catnip. What do you give a bucking bull?’

‘I bake these special oat-bran treats for my bulls. They love ‘em. The secret is in my homemade molasses made from mangoes. The neighbour gives us his seconds in mangoes so I can bottle up a big batch. Wraith loves his mango oat treats so much, he’d break down fences just to rest his chin on my kitchen windowsill, giving me these big sookie eyes, begging me to give him one when I pull them outta the oven.’ Again, Ginny sighed, the sadness making her eyes droop as she looked over her land.

‘We’ll get him back.’ Craig didn’t know how, but he’d try.

Ginny patted his hand sharing a soft motherly smile. ‘Well, in that case, I’d better give you a bag to keep in the ute, so when you see my boy, he’ll behave. I’ll get the bull catcher. Sit tight.’

‘Sounds good.’ Craig tried to smile, but it ended up a grimace from the pain in his ribs and the throb in his leg, as Ginny raced to the bull catcher sitting on top of the small hill.

‘You’re not doing so good, are you?’

He could never hide it from Izzy. ‘I’m not going home yet.’ He was over being stuck indoors. Being outside again, feeling the sun on his skin, smelling the earthy grasses, reminded him of that. He forced himself to stand taller, hugging his ribs with one hand while balancing on the crutch with the other.

Trying to take his mind off his pain, he scrutinised the paddocks below that held only a specialised kind of stock. It was the perfect balance of grazing stock for space. Not too big, not too small. And perfectly manageable. ‘I could do something like this.’

‘What? Stand in a paddock on one leg like a dorky stork wearing a cowboy hat?’

He didn’t mean to chuckle, but it took his mind off the pain.

‘Better?’

‘Yeah.’ Still using the excuse to sling an arm over her shoulders for support, they hobbled back to meet the vehicle.

With her soft hair against his check, Izzy smelled so sweet with that honeyed scent that was uniquely hers. Plus, she was the perfect height for him to tuck her into his side and walk with the same gait as Ginny drove towards them.

‘It may seem stupid, and I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know what I’m doing with Finn’s job, but I want to help Ginny and her family find their livestock.’ But he was also doing it for the bull that put him on his arse.

‘I know you do.’ With his arm around her shoulders, Izzy tenderly patted his hand. ‘But I also know you want to rescue that bull, too.’

‘Does that mean you’ll help me?’ Because Izzy’s skills would be priceless in an investigation, considering he’d never done it before. Izzy would know what to ask, but she’d also be a walking memory bank of information, someone he could debate with for hours on end looking at various unlikely but possible ways to steal a prized bull like Wraith, as well as come up ideas for how to find him. ‘Please, Izzy?’ He lowered his head, giving her his best suck-up smile yet.

She sighed heavily, while rolling her eyes. ‘I’m already playing the part of your designated driver.’

Yes, she was in.

‘I’ll do it, but only for your sake, not for Finn’s.’

Whoa. What did she have against Finn?