Little Girl Lost {Jason}

[Ehetere]

Let’s just say her expectations had been completely blown away. Growing up in a semi-rural town had its own pretty bush, but it was nothing like this. Lottie had heard the High Country had some pretty spectacular scenery, but even her wild imagination didn’t have the scope to conjure up the sights she’d seen so far.

The day was warming up, and promised to be a hot one. Lottie’s arms were protected from the sun’s rays, but the flannel over-shirt was otherwise left unbuttoned to catch a bit of the cooling breeze. In typical style that had always made her parents tut, her tank v-neck was smudged in dirt that showed up plainly on the white fabric, even though the day was only young.

The trip up had been slow, but she’d started early when the snow was yet to fully melt. Lottie was no bushy, far from it, and had relied on a map and a compass to get her this far, but she was learning. She hoped that soon enough she’d know this beautiful country like the back of her hand, and boy was she glad of her decision to take a break and come up here.

A quiet snort from Jasper indicated they were approaching the hut that was to be her home until the winter. Increasing the pace as much as she was able with Bones being led out the back, a quaint little homestead – if it was even big enough to be classified as that – opened out before her from the bush, offing lush looking grazing and a few holding yards.

Hopping off and leading her boys over to a rail, she looped Jasper’s reins over it and ran up his stirrups. Bones predictably stopped as soon as he was able, and she gave the huge bay a friendly pat on his soft sloping nose. Undoing Jasper’s girth, she slipped the saddle off his back and hung it over the fence. She’d put it away soon, but for now she just wanted to get everything unloaded as quickly as possible so Jasper and Bones could have a hard earned rest.

Giving Jasper a quick rubdown with a cloth to remove any excess sweat, she turned him lose in the paddock. Predictably, he gave a playful buck and cantered the perimeter before coming to rest his head over the rail while Lottie took the packs off Bone’s back, not an easy place to reach that was for sure. It was a bit of a strain and the job was done. Even when he wasn’t tethered the solid bay didn’t move from his place, and Lottie had to give him a slap on the flank to get him even moving through the gate.

Taking a breather for a moment, she took in the always pleasing sight of her horses grazing peacefully side by side. The warm sun was pleasant, but quickly becoming uncomfortable with the more physical exertion she was putting in. Running her fingers through her red hair, she set to work unpacking her provisions, loading a few of the bags into her arms and setting off for the hut.

[Tiggs]

Turned in his seat, Jason laughed with his fellow wranglers as the group rode in a convoy along the well-trodden path to the hut. There were five men including Jason on horseback at the front with another four men sat atop wagons pulled by draft horses and leading more stock horses at the back. There was a constant chatter and the occasional bawl of laughter. They were in good spirits as they reached their seasonal home and there was a collective sense of relief as they rounded the last corner and the sturdy old hut came into view.

Marie, Jason’s mount picked up on her rider’s excitement and quickened her pace. Jason patted her neck and the pair trotted ahead with the rest of the riders ahead of the wagons. On reaching the hut, they noticed the horses already out in the paddocks. There was a mumble though the group as the horsemen noticed the quality of the beasts. Tall and leggy, and definitely without a drop of brumby in them.

Jason dismounted and led Marie over to the fence. A quick peek under the black and the bay confirmed they were geldings, and the wrangler proceeded to let Marie greet them with a nicker and a friendly posture. The mare was a good old girl, and if she approved, then Jason was happy to let her share the grass with them. The big bay responded to a handful of molasses and while he shared it with Marie, Jason petted his head and gauged his temperament.

After stroking his ears and wobbling the gelding’s generous lips, Jason gave a nod and slapped his neck fondly. “You’re no brumby, but you’re a friendly chap aren’t you?” Marie agreed and had stretched her head over the railing to sniff at the big bay’s head. The mystery of who the pair belonged to remained unanswered, but they could not have been here long as there were still packs and bags waiting to be taken inside.

Jason doffed his hat, scratched his head then smoothed his hair back and replaced the well-worn hat. He was dressed in his customary blue jeans (bluer than usual being a newish pair), white vest and chequered shirt to cover his shoulders and arms from the sun. His boots were scuffed from age and long use, but they were still sturdy. He’d actually had his hair cut recently and the cropped strands were dark blond until the sun would bleach them. He wore a day’s worth of stubble, but since he was for once fairly clean, he looked as neat as any wrangler could manage.

The door of the hut stood ajar, so after he’d loosened Marie’s girth and tempted her away from the golden bay gelding, he strode over to the porch, jumped up the steps in one leap and reached for the door. “G’day?” He called as he swung the door open, grey-blue eyes squinting into the gloom.

[Ehetere]

Passing through a largish room that seemed to serve both as a kitchen and as a living area, Lottie found the few separate rooms with bunks. Fair enough – she’d been told there would be other stockmen staying here too; in hindsight probably a good thing until she learnt her way around and knew more about the place.

The gloom of the hut meant it took a little while for her eyes to adjust, but when they did they found an unremarkable room – bare from everything but the necessities. Lottie had grown up in a rather grand house, but since moving into shared accommodation with a couple of the female grooms at the racetrack, she’d kind of gotten used to this sort of setting, albeit slightly less rustic. But she liked it anyway – the place had a sense of history about it.

Dumping her back of belongings on one of the bunks, she hoped that none of the cattlemen had preference - it was just a place to sleep after all. Peeling the long-sleeved flannel off her arms and dirty v-neck, she fanned her face for a moment. The day was going to be atmospheric and humid judging by this heat, and long-sleeves were no longer practical. What she wanted was a swim, but the creeks she’d passed had looked pretty swollen and quick in this part of the country. And very cold too no doubt. Still, there was no way of even exploring the possibility until her things were all sorted.

Returning to the kitchen, she began unloading the smaller pack of tinned goods into the cupboards – the rest was still outside. There was only so much Bones could carry, so she was kind of relying on what her first guide had said about the cattlemen bringing more provisions. If she’d known at the time she’d have organized to travel with their convoy – less chance of getting lost that way – but it had been a bit late at that point.

Groping in the darkest reaches of the bag for that last elusive can, a deep voice behind her made Lottie jump and nearly drop the final can she’d managed to get her hands on. Turning around she spotted the dark silhouette of a man in the doorway – he must be one of those cattlemen. They must have been going quite a bit faster than she to get here so soon after her. Well, actually not that fast – she’d been slow and had lost her way more than once. Fair enough.

“Hi.” There was still a slightly started note to her voice, and she blinked several times to shake it. Realising she was just standing there rudely, she crossed the room and held her hand out in greeting.

“I’m Lottie. Pleased to meet you. And you’re from the cattle convoy…?” A quick glance out to the bright world behind him answered her own question, so she returned to squinting up at him in an attempt to discern his feaures in the contrasting light.

[Tiggs]

Jason blinked and shook his head. Well that bloke had a very feminine voice. He watched as he stood, and gave a snort as she came into the light from the door. So it was a Sheila, how about that? “Jason Mannering, darlin’. Actually I’m with the wranglers. We came ahead of the cattle boys. Half of us will be off to Cascade within the week…” He pulled his hat from his head and peered down at her, a slight smile twisting his lips.

“Are you looking for someone, Sheila? You’re a little far out from the town to be sight-seeing.” He took a glance out of the door to the geldings in the paddock. Two horses. Ah. “Is your man about? I need to talk to him about grazing your horses out there.” He flashed her a grin. It was all very sweet that the new bloke had brought his wife, but they had only been expecting one new wrangler at Dead Horse and the High Country wasn’t really a place for women.

[Ehetere]

The stark contrast of the sunlight drenched outside to the gloomier inside of the hut didn’t make for the best vision, but Lottie could make out a bit at least. The man was tall, well, ish. Taller than she was. He wore blue jeans, a plaid shit, scuffed boots and a worn looking Stetson. Your typical cowboy personified.

His accent was typically rural Australian as well, easily considered a drawl with lingo she’d gotten used to from the jockey blokes. Lottie’s eyes lit up at the mention of wranglers – they’d be off brumby hunting. That was the reason she’d come up here, to get up close and personal with those wild horses. She knew little about the catching side of things, but when it came to highly strung and unpredictable horses, she was your girl, and she was more than willing to learn a thing or two.

“Wranglers?” she asked, an excited smile lighting up her face. “Would you happen to be off hunting brumbies then?”

Then the cowboy’s tone turned a little condescending, resulting in a disapproving frown and Lottie planting her hands on her hips. When she wanted to be she was more stubborn than even Bones on a cold morning, and one thing that could upset the girl’s cheery temperament was any mention of gender inequality.

“I don’t need a man,” she replied, her voice defensive, “Jasper and Bones are both my horses, so I guess you’d be looking for me to discuss grazing arrangements. Go ahead.”

She would not be walked all over, even if these guys had been at this business far longer than she.

[Tiggs]

Alright, he hadn’t been expecting such an affront. Had he insulted her somehow? He pushed his fingers through his freshly-trimmed hair and scratched the back of his head. So if she wasn’t the wife of a wrangler or cattleman, what was she doing here?

It was off the beaten track for the regular tourist. Had she mistook the hut for a rustic retreat? “Ah, this isn’t a vacation house, lady. The paddocks are of our horses, or cattle… Sorry Sheila but you’re going to have to move on.” He gave an apologetic shrug. “One of the blokes can show you the road back to town.”

[Ehetere]

Jason pulled a confused expression, and Lottie should have figured as much. Brilliant, he was as thick as all the other blokes who had no idea why she was so grumpy. Why did they all think women were put on the earth to sit there and be pretty? Really? Well now, at least she had something to say about it. More like two somethings.

“You don’t see many of the opposite sex up here do you?” she remarked. It was a rhetorical question, and she continued so he wouldn’t have a chance to respond. “I’m no tourist – I’m here to find me some brumbies. I train racehorses, and well, I wanted a break so I came to try my hand at some real wild animals.”

And here was a particularly slow one right before her. Some guys in her experience needed setting straight early otherwise they’d be under the wrong impression forever more. Then there were some cases where the teasing and the jokes didn’t even stop after she made it clear she was not going to give an inch, but those jerks she would deal with as they came.

[Tiggs]

There was a moment for silence while the man frowned, and then he laughed. “So you want to rope a brumby? That’s why you’re here?” Still grinning, he gestured out to the paddock. “Racehorses, eh? Is that what those are? You do know brumbies don’t wear halters, don’t ya love? They’re cunning and quick and don’t just go in a straight line.” He was still chuckling, his grey-blue eyes bright with humour. “I’m sure you’re a fine trainer, and your intentions are good, but wrangling isn’t for someone like you.”

There was definitely a lack of oestrogen in the High Country, and the idea of a woman working a physically demanding job like wrangling was tickling the man pink. Imagining her sat astride her giant racehorses trying to hold back a brumby at full speed while the rest of the herd rushed about would have been downright frightening if he wasn’t already chuckling. “I’m sorry, Sheila, you came all the way up ‘ere for nothing.”

[Ehetere]

… Sexist nong.

Lottie’s expression became progressively stormier as the man went on, her usually warm brown eyes turning icy. If looks could kill, Jason would have been in trouble. Disbelief was mixed in there somewhere too – in her credit, this man had clearly never set foot in a racing stable. Thoroughbreds were far from easy to handle, and she knew they were much bigger animals than brumbies. Not that would constitute them being any less dangerous, but the point still stood.

“Now you see here, Mr Cool Cowboy,” she began, giving him a rather sharp jab in the chest. Normally she’d never be so upfront with a practical stranger, certainly not one who she’d likely have to be living in close confines with, but he’d started it.

“I mightn’t be an expert on brumbies, but I do know about horses and how to handle ‘em. I know what makes ‘em scared, and I know how to calm down the worst of ‘em. I can ride a fair side of decent too.” She had to stop herself for a moment, the hint of her mother’s far more country accent coming through as she got more and more worked up.

“What do you mean someone like me?” That was crossing the line. Indignation was close to becoming anger here – Lottie took a bit of winding up to get to any sort of proper rage but Jason was doing a mighty fine job of it right now. He knew nothing about her, nothing. How was it that some bloke could pass judgment on someone just because of their gender? It wasn’t just, and she’d always loathed her father for it.

“I’m strong, I’m fit, I’m able. I can a ride a horse from dawn until dusk. I’m a fast learner too so why don’t you man up and teach me about catching brumbies. Because I bet you I’ll be riding circles around you and half of your wrangler mates soon enough, if you would just give me the chance.”

[Tiggs]

Oops.

Jason had the grace to look chagrined, wincing at the tone of her voice. So he could have been a bit more diplomatic. But he was saving her a lot of trouble. When she realised in a week or two that she couldn’t sit in a saddle day after day and she was fed up of squatting in the bush every time she wanted to relieve herself, she’d give up and go home. Really he was just saving her a week or two of discomfort.

“I don’t doubt you’re able.” He gave a her a onceover, noting lean legs and strong arms, “But it’s a fact of life. Why else do you think we’re all blokes? It’s hard work, darling, and it’s not all commune with the wild spirits and stories over the camp fire.” He shrugged and stepped back from the door so she could pass. “I’ll help you pack your things, Russell or Joey will be pleased to direct you back to down.”