He didn’t really have a choice. Brody had never been cut out for station life. The problem was he didn’t have any options beyond football and stockman’s work. He could invest in a business before he retired, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to buy. Or he could go to university and learn something new, but he was too old to go back to being a student.

“You never were one to plan ahead,” he muttered to himself.

“Hey, dinner is on the table,” Callum said, poking his head in the door. “Best be quick or Davey’ll snag the seat next to your girl.”

“She isn’t my girl,” Brody said, running his hand through his hair.

Callum shrugged. “I’m sure the boys will be happy to hear that. They’ve been carrying on like pork chops since she and Gemma arrived.”

“All right, she is my girl. For now. And I expect that pretty Irish thing won’t be spending much time with the boys, either. I see the way you stare at her. Explain to me again what she’s doing here?”

“Research,” Callum said. “She’s working for some distant relative of ours on a family history. I guess one branch of the family left Ireland for the States and another branch came here. She’s been going over all the old records for the station.”

“What does that have to do with family history?” Brody asked.

“I don’t know.” He drew a deep breath. “I don’t really care. As long as it keeps her here.”

“Maybe she really fancies Teague. He’s always been the looker in the family.”

“Teague’s got something else going,” Callum murmured. “I was up early this morning and I saw him come in just before sunrise. There’s not an available woman, besides Gemma, Payton and Mary, within fifty kilometers of this station, but he sure looked well satisfied.”

“Maybe he’s clearing the cobwebs at the brothel, or with a married lady,” Brody said.

Callum shook his head. “Teague wouldn’t do that. He’s too bloody honorable. And why would he when he can usually have any woman he wants?” Callum paused. “I’m just worried he-”

“What?” Brody asked.

“I heard Hayley Fraser’s back on her grandfather’s station. Teague’s always been a bit jelly kneed when it comes to her. First love and all that.”

“Marrying Teague off to Hayley would solve all your problems.” Brody teased. “The Frasers would be family, and family don’t sue family.” He pushed away from the desk. “If that’s who he’s messing with, he should be encouraged, don’t you think?”

Callum cursed softly. “And maybe Fraser is using his granddaughter to mess with us,” he shot back. “Did you ever consider that? Maybe he thinks if he can’t get the land in court, he’ll get it another way.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Blackmail. Extortion. Fraser will go after that land any way he can. I just hope Teague doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.”

“Come on, Cal, you’re talking crazy now. This feud has gone on for so long that nobody can see straight.”

“I’m not going to surrender to Harry Fraser,” Cal said. “That land belongs to the Quinns and we’re not going to lose it while I’m in charge.” He nodded his head. “Come on, dinner is ready. Mary won’t wait.”

Brody stared after him, then slowly stood. There were times when Brody wondered how Cal handled all the pressures of running the station. So many people depended on him. His parents took a share of the station income. Then there were the stockmen who expected to be paid. Teague’s practice wouldn’t make decent money for a few years, so he traded vet services for room and board. And now Brody was sponging off Callum. From now on, he’d make a better effort to pull his own weight.

The kitchen was already noisy when Brody walked in, filled with the usual dinner guests-the stockmen, Teague and Mary, and now Gemma and Payton.

With women at the table, the conversation had become much more civilized. Brody dislodged one of the jackaroos from the chair next to Payton, then sat down beside her. Unlike the majority of the men, Brody unfolded his serviette and placed it on his lap instead of stuffing it down the front of his shirt.

“What exactly is a B and S?” Gemma asked.

“Bachelors and Spinsters Ball,” Teague explained as he grabbed a piece of bread and slathered it with butter. “All the unmarried people get together for a weekend of silliness. If you’re not an Aussie, I don’t think I’d recommend it. Foreigners might not have the fortitude to survive the weekend.”

“But it sounds like fun,” Payton said, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on the table. “I always loved balls and dances and cotill-” She stopped short, as if she’d suddenly revealed too much. Forcing a smile, she continued, “Is it formal or semiformal?”

“Tell her, Teague,” Brody insisted, chuckling to himself. Though Payton hadn’t said much, she had revealed something of value this time out. She’d either enjoyed a high-class upbringing or she was a professional princess. He’d never known a single person who’d been to a real ball.

“It’s not really a ball, the way you’re thinking,” Teague explained. “And by silliness, I mean debauchery.”

“It’s more like a big outdoor party,” Callum explained.

Teague nodded. “There’s music and drinking and…well, the whole idea is to get pissed, have a good time and hopefully enjoy a shag at the end of the night.”

Gemma and Payton looked at each other, shocked expressions on their faces. “Have sex?” Payton asked.

Teague nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s the point. Lots of blokes bring their swag along for just that purpose. Life gets real lonely in the outback.”

“What is swag?” Gemma asked. “Money? Do you pay for sex?”

“It’s a sleeping roll,” Brody explained. “Camping gear. Believe me, you don’t want to go to the B and S. It gets feral.”

“Filthy is a better word for it,” Mary said as she set a bowl of peas next to Brody. She took her spot at the far end of the table. “If you don’t want to get dirty or pawed, I wouldn’t recommend it. And the loos are disgusting.”

“I heard they’re going to do something about that,” Callum commented. “The organizers reckon they’ll get a better class of sheilas if they guarantee clean toilets. They’re going to hire someone to keep them tidy.”

“I remember last year, Jack made his own loo with a milk crate and a dunny seat,” Teague said. “All the girls were wild for it. He’d let ’em use it, then try to charm them out of their grundies. Such a player, our Jack.”

The lanky stockman shook his head, his long hair falling into his eyes. “I won’t be able to compete with trailer toilets,” Jack said glumly.

“It might be fun,” Payton said. She turned to Gemma. “What do you think? When in Australia, do as the Aussies do?”

Gemma laughed. “We’d have to get something nice to wear.”

“I have dresses,” Payton said. “I need work clothes. I can’t wear Davey’s castoffs forever. Not that I don’t appreciate the loan,” she said, giving the kid a warm smile.

“I have to fly to Brisbane in a few days. I could take you shopping,” Teague offered.

“Hang on there,” Callum interrupted. “Gemma and Payton are not going to Bachelors and Spinsters.”

“We won’t participate,” Gemma said. “We’ll just go to…observe. Think of it as sightseeing. Or anthropological research.”

“If you want to see the real sights of Australia, I’ll take you,” Teague said. “Queensland is beautiful from the air.”

“There’s an idea,” Callum said. “You’d be much safer in a plane piloted by our brother than at Bachelors and Spinsters.”

Brody slipped his hand beneath the table and smoothed his palm along Payton’s thigh. “We could always send Mary to the ball. It’s about time she got off this station and had a bit of fun. There are plenty of blokes who’d fancy a dance with our Mary.”

The older woman’s cheeks turned bright red and she hushed the laughter around the table. “Maybe I will,” she said, giving them all a haughty expression. “I’d venture to say I could outdance all you boys.”

The rest of the dinner conversation focused on the sights that every visitor in Australia needed to see, the Bachelors and Spinsters forgotten. Everyone at the table had an opinion about the finest tourist sights, both in and outside of Queensland. By the time they’d finished dessert, Teague had a long list, starting with a trip to Brisbane.

As Mary began to clear the table, Brody pushed back, then slid Payton’s chair out for her. The rest of the hands looked at him in disbelief. “What are you all gawking at? Some of us here have good manners,” Brody said.

The men quickly scrambled to their feet and rushed to Gemma’s chair, but Callum waved them off. In truth, Brody’s actions had nothing to do with manners. He wanted Payton all to himself and the faster that happened the better. But she seemed determined to keep him waiting.

“I’m going to help Mary clean up,” she said, taking his plate and hers.

“Go along with you now. I have all the help I can handle,” Mary said. “Davey promised to lend a hand.”

Brody squeezed her elbow and pulled her along, out the backdoor to the porch that ran the width of the house. He found a dark corner and pushed her back against the house, then kissed her long and hard, his hands trapping her arms on either side of her head, his hips pressing into hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I sat down next to you.” He groaned.

Payton clutched the front of his shirt, then pushed up onto her toes and kissed him back. “Me, too,” she said breathlessly. “I know where we can go. Someplace private.”

This time, she pulled him along. They headed toward the stables, now dark and silent. When they got inside, Payton fumbled around in the gloom. “There’s a flashlight here somewhere.”

Brody grabbed it from a shelf above her head and flipped it on, holding it under his chin. “It’s called a torch,” he said.