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Huh! She walking stiffly down the stairs and said with forced brightness, ‘Good morning, Hudson.’

‘Oh, there you are. Cup of tea on the table. Where’s your bag? I told you to throw a few things together in case we stay on the other side tonight.’

‘I’ll get it.’ Gritting her teeth, she climbed the stairs, grateful that she had at least packed it last night, when she had been unable to sleep.

He was whistling cheerfully when she returned to the kitchen. ‘Are you always this cheerful in the early hours?’ she demanded in an almost accusing voice as she sipped the cup of tea he had poured for her.

‘Always.’ His mouth twitched. ‘Having second thoughts? You can go back to bed for a couple of hours if you like.’

‘And miss the best part of the day?’ She wondered why the words didn’t choke her. He looked so revoltingly efficient and healthy. Just how could she have ever thought him attractive? ‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘No, everything’s under control. Finish your tea while I toss your bag in the truck. You said you couldn’t bake scones so I’ve packed these two cartons with deep frozen scones, some pizzas and fruit loaves. You’ll find them a godsend for smokos. We’ll transfer them to the freezer over there.’

‘I appreciate your supreme sacrifice,’ Serenity said sarcastically.

He laughed. ‘Oh, I fully expect you to replenish my hoard before you leave.’

‘Always the optimist,’ she flung after his retreating figure, and swallowed her tea hastily, almost scalding herself. She glanced at the clock and shuddered—four- thirty—he needed lynching. She made her way out to the Subaru truck, eased herself into the passenger seat, and closed her eyes. Fantastic.

When she opened her eyes she saw Hudson outlined in the doorway of a huge woolshed which was lit up like a battleship on a dark sea.

‘You’ve had an extra twenty minutes sleep, are you ready to function now?’

By sheer will power she joined him, hugging her arms against the bite of the cold, glad of her thick jersey. ‘Which board do you want scrubbed?’

‘Sure you’re up to it?’

‘Of course I’m up to it!’ she cried indignantly.

'I've thrown a couple of buckets of water on it to soften the dirt. Sorry it’s such a mess, but we just haven’t had time to get back since the crutching. I’ve got a couple of bales to press. There’s a hot water cylinder there, buckets, brushes and detergent.’

She ran a bucket of hot water, tipped in the detergent and surveyed the filthy wet board with distasteful eyes and wrinkled nose.

'I
t’s got to be spotlessly clean before they can start, so don’t spare the water. It will have time to dry before midday as there’s a nice easterly rising.’

‘Nice easterly! That wind is colder than a stepmother’s breath,’ she observed sourly.

‘You’ll soon warm up with all that scrubbing,’ he said callously.

Taking a deep breath, Serenity rolled up her sleeves and started. A quarter of an hour later she was so warm that she stripped off her jersey, and as her ring was hurting her finger she took it off and hung it on a huge nail by the louvre window at the end of the board. Another twenty minutes passed and her wet jeans were clinging and hampering her efforts. She went out to the truck and stripped them off, pulled on a brief pair of shorts and kicked off her sneakers. The dawn was breaking and she would have loved to stay and watch the shadowed valley come alive, but she wasn’t even halfway up the board yet. It was a mile long.

As she crossed to refill her bucket there was an appreciative whistle from Hudson. ‘ “Serenity James has a figure divine, and Serenity James is mine ... all mine.” If only John could see you now.’

Serenity laughed. ‘I doubt he’d want me . . . he’s a pretty fastidious guy.’

She set to work with enthusiasm, wondering how she could take such satisfaction from the clean smooth expanse behind her. She was aware that Hudson never stopped, his strong energetic figure moving from one task to another with tremendous vigour and efficiency.

‘Howzat!’ she demanded triumphantly as she flung the last bucket of boiling water down the vast length of the wooden boards.

Hudson strode over to examine her work. ‘Fantastic. You’ve done a terrific job. It’s as immaculate as an operating theatre. You’re a credit to your profession, Serenity James.’

She beamed on him, warmed by his praise. ‘You haven’t done so badly yourself.’ Her eyes roamed over the tidy floor and wooltable, the empty bins waiting to be filled, and the two newly-pressed bales sewn and stencilled in the far corner. ‘Anything else you want me to do?’

‘I’ve nearly finished here. It’ll take me a few minutes to put on a new grinder paper, check the gate catches and fill the oil cans, then I’ll be ready for breakfast. You nip over to the house and have a shower, and put some bacon and eggs in the pan. I’ll be there by the time they’re cooked.’

It took Serenity a little time to find her way around the kitchen, but she was just ready to serve up as he walked through from the bathroom.

‘That smells great, and you look delicious too, but I prefer you in shorts.’

‘Keep your mind on your food,’ Serenity told him severely. She was glad she had been a nurse and was used to blatant, meaningless compliments from the men patients. She knew how to keep them in their place, but Hudson Grey was a different proposition. He wasn’t sick; in fact, he was dangerously healthy.

‘Yes, we’d better concentrate on food. Grab a biro, and we’ll make a list while we eat. I told Gary to call at the Store and pick up the mail, milk and groceries. If we ring soon, it will give them time to pack the extras. It will mainly be bread and fresh vegetables. Mother keeps everything well stocked up here, and I can send the boys back across the river if we hit a crisis.’

Her list lengthened, and her eyes opened at the massive quantities being ordered. 'If they eat all this, they won’t have time to shear,’ she protested. ‘How many are coming?’

‘Four stands means four shearers, four fleecies, one presser, and two rousies. Then there’s you and me, and the two boys, say fifteen or sixteen, and there’s rarely a day passes at this time of the year without visitors. Still, they’ve eased off a bit with the parents away, praise the Lord.’

‘And your mother copes with this every year.’

‘Twice a year for shearing; then there’s crutching, hay-making, and then the steady flow of stock and station agents, buyers, fencers and contractors.’

‘All by herself?’

‘Basically, yes, but don’t panic—we’ll make allowances for your being a beginner. Now, times are important. Meals and smokos ready on the dot. Wait till you see them go; they work under tremendous pressure, and burn up enormous energy. They need good, well- cooked food, and plenty of it, and to have it ready when they are. There’s nothing more calculated to throw a spanner in the works of a harmonious shed than a bad cook.’

'I
f I had a hat, I’d take it off to your mother. If I saddle a horse and have it standing by for a quick getaway, I’ll feel a bit more confident.’ Yet she didn’t feel scared. It was a new and exciting challenge, and she felt more vibrantly alive then she ever had before.

‘There’ll be horses saddled continuously until this is over, but I advise you to pick a fresh one if you intend to outrun hungry, angry shearers, and I'll be moving myself, if you let me down.’

Serenity laughed as she pictured herself, fleeing down the road on Misty, flecked with sweat, pursued by fourteen or fifteen outraged, starving men. 'I'll grab a gun.’

‘You’ll need it,’ he said succinctly. ‘Now we’ll check the freezer, take the meat out for dinner, then you clear up here while I ring the Store. After that we’ll bring the first mob into the yards to empty out, before clearing the cattle through. Any questions?’

‘What do I do with visitors?’

'Ignore them. They won’t expect to be entertained if they come at a busy time. The majority will muck in and give you a hand.’

As they caught the horses and loosed the dogs, Serenity said, ‘Thanks for giving me a rough idea of the quantities of food you’re expecting. How come you know such a lot about housekeeping?’

‘It goes with the territory. Provisioning is a basic part of Station life. There’s no corner store to nip out to, or fish and chips. You get accustomed to ordering in bulk; I’ve grown up with it, it’s a second nature. Dad's away a lot on business, and sometimes he takes Mother, so I’ve been through this enough to make it familiar.’

Serenity mounted a pleasant-natured skewbald, while Hudson battled a large, spirited bay who bucked violently for about five minutes before settling into a steady pace.

‘Dicer’s got to get it out of his system,’ Hudson remarked as they pulled up at the first gate. ‘He’ll be okay now.’

'I'm glad I didn’t draw him. It wouldn’t have been much of a contest. Oh, do I have to make up beds for them?’

‘No, they use the cottage and bring their own bed rolls. Let’s zero in on these woollies.’

The next four days passed in a blur of men, meals, dishes and tiredness, and Serenity enjoyed every new sensation and experience. She was as familiar with the well-designed kitchen, by the last day, as if she had been born in it, and she blessed the luxury of the automatic dishwasher. Without it she would never have coped with the sea of dirty dishes. Each day as she plunged into the freezer and came out with a daily ration of scones and fruit loaf, she had loving thoughts of the previous housekeeper. It meant she only had to bake fruit cakes and biscuits, and make sandwiches, to fill the smoko baskets which came back from the shed as if they’d been tipped into an automatic disposal unit.

‘Last day, Serenity. Do you think you’ll hold together?’ Hudson asked as he pushed the tray of chops into the oven, ready for breakfast.

‘What a question! I’m thriving on it. They’re great boys to cook for. They compliment me on everything I put in front of them, even if once or twice it has had the appearance of a burnt offering. They’ve got a great sense of humour. I love the way they chip each other. It’s so funny, and there’s no malice in it.’

‘They’ve got a sense of humour, all right. I heard them invite you to become their permanent cook,’ Hudson remarked dryly. ‘Are you going to take them up on it? It’s good money.’

‘Only if you’ll come with me,’ Serenity informed him cheerfully. ‘I’d never make it in the mornings if you didn’t dig me out on time, and then help me cook breakfast. Mornings aren’t my best period.’

‘I’ve noticed. Still, you are improving. You’re even smiling, and it’s not six-thirty yet. A good effort; I’m grateful. And you’ve handled their barracking as if to the manner born. I’m full of admiration.’

Serenity laughed, ‘Nursing is a pretty harsh training school for the sensitive in spirit. Still, I don’t deserve all the credit. You really have babied me, easing me through, and sending Cam over ahead of them each day to help me carve and dish up.’

‘He’s a good chap, Cam. Look out, here they come. Stand to your mark, and don't fire till you see the whites of their eyes.’

When they streamed out again, Serenity sank into a chair and poured herself a cup of tea, surveying the chaos. Only one smoko to go, and then lunch, and that was the finish. Today the steady stream of sheep passing by the house would cease, woolly ones going up the hill, clean, shorn, white and sprightly ones moving back down. Excited barking dogs would quieten, and weary men and horses could rest from the demanding pace they had held.

‘I must get my ring,’ she admonished herself out loud. It was still hanging on the nail where she had left it the first morning. Each night before she fell asleep she remembered it, but during the day she never thought of retrieving it.

Serenity had only managed to get over to the shed a few times and had been so intrigued with the work that she had forgotten all about her ring. She always noticed the shearers' watches on nails above their heads, and once mentioned it to Hudson, where he worked at the wooltable classing the fleeces. He had confirmed that they were perfectly safe, even if left overnight. It had been her intention to get her ring that day, but she had stopped to watch the gun shearer on the first stand peeling off the fleece, with such precision and speed that she had needed a reminder from Hudson to send her flying back to the house to prepare lunch.

‘Who are you?’

Serenity jumped nervously and turned towards the door where an extremely beautiful dark-haired girl stood impatiently.

‘Sorry, I didn’t hear a car.’ Serenity stood up. 'I'm cooking for the shearers.’

‘Bring me a cup of black coffee through to the lounge. I have no intention of sitting in that mess.’

Serenity watched with raised eyebrows as the girl slowly sauntered through to the lounge, stopping to flick through some mail on the sideboard, before sitting with great elegance in a huge armchair. Serenity hesitated. Hudson had said to ignore visitors and she was sorely tempted. She shrugged her shoulders and went to plug in the kettle. Somehow she felt people rarely, if ever, ignored this most sophisticated and assured lady.

She began to clear the table.

‘Where are the Fairmonts? I expected to find them here.’

In spite of her irritated feelings Serenity had to admire the visitor’s exceptionally well-bred voice and careful enunciation. Obviously the product of an excellent young ladies’ school.

‘They went to the Glaciers, the day shearing started.’

‘They showed phenomenal good sense. Is that coffee ready yet? I’ve had a long drive.’

Serenity continued wiping down the table, then made a mug of coffee and carried it through.

‘I prefer my coffee in a bone china cup, which you will find in the left-hand cupboard. I also suggest you use a tray with sugar and biscuits on it. Thank you.’

Serenity’s grey eyes glittered as she stood, mug in hand, wondering how her visitor would cope with a hot dark stream of coffee pouring down her incredibly stylish cream dress and obviously hand-made Italian shoes.

She stood too long and her sense of humour overtook her.

‘Sorry, ma’am. Nobody taught me to do things fancy like,’ she flattened her vowels atrociously and bobbed a half curtsey, and giggled all the way back to the kitchen, where she prepared the required tray. This time it was accepted in silence.