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The glass of the bus window was cool against Carter Hendrix’s forehead. They’d long turned off the highway and were bumping their way through a multitude of small towns and stretches of Australian bush. With each kilometre, the rumbling vehicle took them closer to their temporary training grounds.

He sighed heavily. In the six years that he’d been part of the Sydney Scorpions rugby league team, he’d looked forward to preseason training.

There’d be a new guy or two to get to know, a program that shook off the cobwebs from the break and plenty of laughs aiding the vibes of being part of something bigger than himself.

Whatever had happened in the previous season—wins, losses, injuries and career highlights—were left behind as the clean slate of the upcoming year energised them.

But not this year.

The end of last season was far from forgotten.

And he’d felt it from the first cold shoulder from players he’d considered teammates to the permanent deep creases on Coach Jonathan Taylor’s forehead.

But the further the bus took Carter away from Sydney, the more the restriction across his chest seemed to ease.

Back at the club, he didn’t stand a chance of changing the mistrust and whispers of whistleblower , but out here? Neutral ground could only help.

Wherever this neutral ground was. The coaching team had been very tight-lipped about where they were heading, saying the decision not to tell them or their families was to avoid the risk of the media finding out and continuing to harass them.

Carter didn’t mind. Aside from his mum and sister Piper, he didn’t have anyone in his life to tell.

He shook his head. That sounded lonely and he wasn’t.

He had managers and agents for every aspect of his public life and they blew up his phone enough that he was happy to avoid it.

But with everything that had happened last year, he’d found out who his true friends were.

The devastation came from how quickly that number had dwindled. And he hadn’t even done anything wrong.

‘Gentlemen.’ Coach Taylor’s voice boomed across the speakers as he stood at the front of the bus with a small microphone in hand. ‘A word from me before we start the ascent to camp. Listen up.’

Peeling his face from the glass, Carter looked around the bus as his teammates removed earphones and sat a little straighter in their seats, except for a couple up the back.

Carter refrained from shaking his head. When the coach spoke, everyone listened.

Respect. Plain and simple, just like his father had taught him.

You had to give it before you could receive it.

‘I know this isn’t the most traditional way to start our preseason training. Ideally, we would’ve done a three-day camp akin to hell then regular sessions at the clubhouse. But thanks to the media hounds and vandalism, we’re changing things up.’

That was putting it mildly. Carter thought back to the moment only a few days earlier when media had mobbed his car and police had had to clear the way for him to get out of the carpark. It had been chaos.

‘I can now tell you that we are about to arrive at Windale Mountain Station, where the Scorpions training staff and I have put together a program for the next few weeks. It’ll cover core abilities, teamwork, leadership skills and plenty of hell to get you ready for the season ahead of us.

But the most important thing for you to understand is that no one, I repeat, no one is to tell anyone where we are.

Your families know you’re safe, and your managers and agents have been warned not to ask you for details.

If any one of you breaks that, you’ll be looking for a new club.

I don’t care who you are or how good you are.

For the next few weeks, you will be eating, sleeping, breathing, dreaming and living this team.

The Scorpions name will become synonymous with success, and we will do it together. ’

Applause broke out around him and Carter lifted his hands to join in.

Fire fizzed in his veins. There was little he loved more in life than playing footy, and being a Scorpion had been his number one goal from the day his dad had first put a football in his hands.

He clenched his jaw. Zachary Hendrix would’ve had some solid advice to offer Carter with all of this. If he’d still been here.

‘Right, fellas.’ Assistant Coach Ray O’Neill took the mic from Jonathan as the bus started to climb what Carter assumed was Windale Mountain. ‘Room assignments. These aren’t changing, so if you don’t like it, you’ll be sleeping outside with the snakes.’

‘Snakes are on the bus as well as in the bushes.’

The call came from behind him, and while Carter couldn’t place the voice, he refused to turn around and acknowledge it. A few sniggers rang out.

‘That’s enough,’ Ray said. ‘Matt Finch, you’re with Diego Chinchallas, Beau Randall with Junior O’Hare.’

Poor Junior. Beau was a mean pest.

‘Carter Hendrix, you’re in with our new five-eight Mr Ethan Gray …’

Names kept getting called but Carter stopped listening and met the gaze of the new number six across the aisle and up a row.

Ethan didn’t even pretend not to look at him.

At least he wore a smile. Carter sent a nod in his direction.

The two playmakers. He’d expected them to be paired up.

They’d need to work well together and all of that depended on whether Ethan believed the rumours.

Carter really hoped he didn’t. It’d be good to have an ally on the team.

Regardless, he was keeping his head down this season.

His agent had been clear: Do his job, keep his sponsors happy and secure the rest of his football career. Easy, right?

He used to think so, but not after the last six months.

The bus took a sharp left and Carter’s stomach churned.

He was pushed back in his seat as the incline increased.

Looking away from his new roommate, Carter focused on the treetops outside the window.

He wished he could open it. The bus swayed and he willed his body to relax, but tension radiated through every muscle as his stomach continued to gurgle with unease.

The road swooped in a giant hairpin turn and heat washed over him.

Left, right, big left, tight right, another swooping hairpin turn.

Carter’s breathing whistled through his nose.

He needed to get off the bus but they weren’t there yet.

Carter desperately flicked his brain to a different gear as the trees broke into a mass of scribbly gums. He pictured himself running through them, tried to feel the hard ground beneath his feet instead of the swaying bus; cool, fresh mountain breeze instead of the musty bus air. Why wasn’t it working?

The bush opened up to neatly fenced green paddocks dotted with sheep.

Another sharp turn away from the view and they passed a wooden sign welcoming them to Windale Mountain Station.

Carter’s stomach heaved as the bus lurched down a less steep slope towards a cluster of buildings.

He jammed his mouth shut and his throat burned.

The bus pitched to a shuddering stop and he stumbled to the front of the bus.

The driver opened the doors as Carter’s breakfast flew.

With the contents of his stomach now decorating the bark below the shrubs lining the road, Carter squatted and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

He’d kill for some mouthwash or his water bottle but it was still on the bus.

The ringing in his ears died, meaning he was no longer deaf to the raucous laughter, cheering and insults flying from the bus.

He didn’t even have it in him to care. The relief from the dissipating nausea was strong.

Bracing himself, Carter stood and straightened his shoulders, only to find himself looking directly into the deepest pools of sapphire blue water ringed by long, dark lashes.

Shit . Heat washed over him once more, but he wasn’t worried about vomiting again.

He blinked several times and took a step back to see who the eyes belonged to.

Double shit . They were set in a pixie face framed by wisps of light hair beneath the cap on her head. One corner of her mouth was lowered.

Carter wanted the ground to consume him whole. He swallowed, his throat still scorching. ‘Hey. Sorry about that.’ Real smooth, Hendrix.

The woman turned to the teenage girl standing next to her, who hadn’t taken her eyes off him. ‘Mara, go get a bucket of water.’

‘But—’

‘Now, Mara.’ Her voice was firm. ‘They’ll still be here when you get back, but the shrubs will thank you for it.’

He ducked his head in a fresh wave of shame as someone clapped him on the shoulder and a bottle of water was thrust into his hands.

‘Here,’ Ethan said, a teasing lilt in his voice. ‘I’m sure glad you did that out here and not in our shared room.’

‘Thanks, mate.’

‘Over here, gentlemen!’ Jonathan was standing near a shorter lady with blonde hair and a stern gaze. After one more look at the blue-eyed beauty, he followed Ethan to join the others gathered in front of them.

‘Scorpions,’ Jonathan said once they’d all quietened down. ‘This is Nova Thomas, owner of Windale Mountain Station and the lady in charge. She’s going to give us a brief that you will follow.’

Jonathan took a step back and Nova gave him a nod.

‘Thanks, Jonathan. Welcome to Windale Mountain Station, gentlemen. Windale covers three thousand hectares of Wiradjuri land, and we take a lot of pride in our connection with the community and pay our respects to their elders past and present. We’re a working sheep property, breeding every one of our seven thousand merino sheep, which are all paddock run and grass fed. ’

Carter risked a glance around at his team. Nova and her no-nonsense tone held their undivided attention.

‘This may not mean much to you,’ she continued, ‘but it does to us, because we are a working property first and a camp second. Other than the road you drove in on, there are two main tracks from here.’ She gestured past the giant hall behind her to the path that continued down the slope.

‘We call that the gully track and as you can probably guess, it goes down the gully. There are two roads off it to get to the paddocks that make up the bottom half of the mountain. The road to your left that disappears between the shed and the section of trees will take you to the sports grounds where most of your training will take place. It continues past an old shearing shed to the mountain peak. Watch the tracks that come off it. My staff and I do not have time to find you if you get lost. You can go anywhere on the property that’s within walking distance except the staff cabins down the gully track and the sheds and house behind you.

The hall behind me is for meals and has a couple of meeting rooms. You’ll be staying in the rooms in the two long, parallel buildings there between the hall and the front paddock.

You’ll figure out the rest. Now, our sheep may look friendly or even cuddly to you, but I assure you they will leap, kick and butt, so if you think that tackling, hurdling or chasing them is a good idea, think again.

I will not be responsible for anyone missing the first few rounds of the season because of a sheep-related incident. ’

A few sniggers rang out, but the women lined up behind Nova all wore looks that said they’d seen these sheep in action.

Before Nova could say anything else, an older lady called her name from the door of the dining hall.

‘Gentlemen, I will hand you over to Indy to deliver the rest of the information you should be aware of.’ Nova looked to the blue-eyed beauty, who gave a nod and moved forwards.

Indy. What was it short for?

‘It’s summer and snakes are active,’ Indy said.

‘We get a lot of different species out here but the deadliest is the eastern brown. They are aggressive and will strike if they feel threatened. We’ve had about twelve sightings on the property in the last few months alone so don’t be complacent.

I’d recommend leaving them be and giving them a wide berth or standing still if it’s too close, but you’re all adults and responsible for yourselves.

Just so you know though, it takes the medevac helicopter about twenty minutes to get up here, so the gamble’s yours to take. ’

Her voice was as smooth as velvet, but her words struck fear into Carter. He could deal with anything except those slippery serpents.

Indy looped her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans and rocked back on her heels.

Her jeans clung to long, lean legs and her buttoned work shirt was covered in dust; it was like a uniform of strength he’d only seen on other women who lived and worked on the land.

She screamed of capability and to Carter, there was nothing sexier.

‘The last thing is to keep this place how you find it. If you open a gate, close it behind you. If a gate’s left open, don’t shut it unless we tell you to.

And whatever you bring with you, you take away.

There’s no housekeeping here; we all pick up after ourselves.

’ She took a step back as Nova strode back over. ‘That’s it.’

Jonathan gave a nod. ‘Thank you, Nova and Indy. Let’s show some appreciation for our hosts.’ Claps rang out and Carter’s were more enthusiastic than they should have been. ‘Right, men, grab your bags. You’ve got five minutes to find your room and gear up for a five-kilometre run before lunch.’