smirk up Woodall’s nostrils.
‘Fifteen minutes, Pete.’ He let the door close behind him.
Anger at the headline and Pete’s attitude radiated from him, and he had to make a deliberate attempt to control his fury as he walked over to where the other men were saddling up.
‘You head on over,’ he told Lewis, Smithy and Fred. ‘Pete won’t be joining you, but I’ll be along in about half an hour.’
The hands kept their heads down and didn’t ask any questions, so Mac figured he was still looking fucking furious. Still, if it meant they focused on their work instead of lurid headlines it was probably a good thing.
Turning, he went to where Amos was fixing up some loose timbers in the stable. The old man was in his sixties, and Mac was trying to lighten his workload without making him feel less valued.
‘Pete’s leaving this afternoon. Isn’t coming back,’ he told Amos.
The man swivelled around on the ladder where he was hammering a nail into a board, a cigarette clasped loosely between his lips as usual. After a brief pause, he stuck the hammer in his tool belt and removed the smoke.
‘Bout time, boss. Woodall’s no good, and he’d only rub off on the others.’
‘I’ll see about a replacement soon as I get a chance.’
‘Want me up at the paddock this arvo?’
‘Uh, nup. You carry on. Those timbers have needed fixing a while. I’ll help the boys out.’
‘Righto, boss. Listen, ya might want to sound out Harry Blenheim’s boy. Hear he’s keen to step up into a foreman’s job.’
‘You’re the foreman here, Amos.’
‘Want to work me to death, boss?’
‘No.’ Mac considered the wiry man, who’d worked the property before Mac had bought it and knew every inch of land, every blade of tough grass. This was obviously his way of saying that Mac didn’t need to pussyfoot around.
‘Time to slow down a bit. Let a younger man do the hard yards.’ Amos tapped the ash from his cigarette.
‘Well, we sure need someone to keep the place fixed up, otherwise it’d be falling down around our ears. Property manager, how does that sound?’ Mac asked.
‘Right fine, boss.’
‘Comes with perks. Two extra days off a month.’
‘Where do I sign?’ Amos grinned, showing a big gap where two teeth were missing.
‘Handshake’ll do it,’ Mac said, watching Amos climb down the ladder, and grind his cigarette beneath his booted heel.
They shook, and then Mac strode back to the house. He heard cursing as he passed the bunkhouse. Evidently, now that reality was setting in for Woodall, the guy wasn’t too happy about his circumstances. Tough.
By the time he’d printed out a pay slip for his ex-employee and counted out cash from the small safe in his office, Pete was cooling his heels on the steps, his look surly. He grabbed the envelope, counted the money, and stuck it in his back pocket. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he spat close enough to Mac’s boots to make it clear it was a deliberate insult.
‘You’ll regret this, boss.’
Mac looked him squarely in the eye. ‘You know, Pete, I really don’t think I will.’
Right now, Mac thought, he should be nursing a cool beer on his own shady deck. Instead, he was riding out to Sweet Springs to check on his neighbour who, according to 362 922 articles uploaded to the world wide web, had not only fucked four crew members on the set of her forthcoming movie,
Bad & Co.,
in the one night, she had been filmed doing it. In fact, the X-rated home movie was freely downloadable for anyone with the software and inclination to watch it.
Mac had the software but lacked the inclination and definitely hadn’t had the time before he’d gone out to join his men for the afternoon’s work. He’d quickly Googled ‘Blaze’, just to get the gist of the story in case the newspaper headline had got it all wrong. But the web was filled with stories with similar lurid descriptions. Fortunately, the hands had kept their heads down and their mouths
‘Fifteen minutes, Pete.’ He let the door close behind him.
Anger at the headline and Pete’s attitude radiated from him, and he had to make a deliberate attempt to control his fury as he walked over to where the other men were saddling up.
‘You head on over,’ he told Lewis, Smithy and Fred. ‘Pete won’t be joining you, but I’ll be along in about half an hour.’
The hands kept their heads down and didn’t ask any questions, so Mac figured he was still looking fucking furious. Still, if it meant they focused on their work instead of lurid headlines it was probably a good thing.
Turning, he went to where Amos was fixing up some loose timbers in the stable. The old man was in his sixties, and Mac was trying to lighten his workload without making him feel less valued.
‘Pete’s leaving this afternoon. Isn’t coming back,’ he told Amos.
The man swivelled around on the ladder where he was hammering a nail into a board, a cigarette clasped loosely between his lips as usual. After a brief pause, he stuck the hammer in his tool belt and removed the smoke.
‘Bout time, boss. Woodall’s no good, and he’d only rub off on the others.’
‘I’ll see about a replacement soon as I get a chance.’
‘Want me up at the paddock this arvo?’
‘Uh, nup. You carry on. Those timbers have needed fixing a while. I’ll help the boys out.’
‘Righto, boss. Listen, ya might want to sound out Harry Blenheim’s boy. Hear he’s keen to step up into a foreman’s job.’
‘You’re the foreman here, Amos.’
‘Want to work me to death, boss?’
‘No.’ Mac considered the wiry man, who’d worked the property before Mac had bought it and knew every inch of land, every blade of tough grass. This was obviously his way of saying that Mac didn’t need to pussyfoot around.
‘Time to slow down a bit. Let a younger man do the hard yards.’ Amos tapped the ash from his cigarette.
‘Well, we sure need someone to keep the place fixed up, otherwise it’d be falling down around our ears. Property manager, how does that sound?’ Mac asked.
‘Right fine, boss.’
‘Comes with perks. Two extra days off a month.’
‘Where do I sign?’ Amos grinned, showing a big gap where two teeth were missing.
‘Handshake’ll do it,’ Mac said, watching Amos climb down the ladder, and grind his cigarette beneath his booted heel.
They shook, and then Mac strode back to the house. He heard cursing as he passed the bunkhouse. Evidently, now that reality was setting in for Woodall, the guy wasn’t too happy about his circumstances. Tough.
By the time he’d printed out a pay slip for his ex-employee and counted out cash from the small safe in his office, Pete was cooling his heels on the steps, his look surly. He grabbed the envelope, counted the money, and stuck it in his back pocket. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he spat close enough to Mac’s boots to make it clear it was a deliberate insult.
‘You’ll regret this, boss.’
Mac looked him squarely in the eye. ‘You know, Pete, I really don’t think I will.’
Right now, Mac thought, he should be nursing a cool beer on his own shady deck. Instead, he was riding out to Sweet Springs to check on his neighbour who, according to 362 922 articles uploaded to the world wide web, had not only fucked four crew members on the set of her forthcoming movie,
Bad & Co.,
in the one night, she had been filmed doing it. In fact, the X-rated home movie was freely downloadable for anyone with the software and inclination to watch it.
Mac had the software but lacked the inclination and definitely hadn’t had the time before he’d gone out to join his men for the afternoon’s work. He’d quickly Googled ‘Blaze’, just to get the gist of the story in case the newspaper headline had got it all wrong. But the web was filled with stories with similar lurid descriptions. Fortunately, the hands had kept their heads down and their mouths
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