A Changing Land by Nicole Alexander

business and Wangallon had always made more out of grazing.
    At the stables Matt unsaddled his horse and began brushing Sugar down with a curry comb. Sugar stood quietly like a woman at a beauty parlour getting her hair done.
    â€˜I guess I’m a bit of a tree hugger, Matt,’ Jack said almost shyly as he undid the girth strap on his own mount and dragged the saddle free.
    Matt clapped the lad on his shoulder. ‘I know exactly what you mean. We’re stockmen, not tractor jockeys.’

    Sarah, Matt and Jack were unloading their horses from the float at the road paddock when a flashy white and yellow trailer pulled alongside them.
    â€˜You’re late,’ Matt admonished as the two men walked towards them.
    â€˜G’day. I’m Toby Williams.’ The taller of the two shook Sarah’s hand. He was slightly built with broad shoulders and budgerigar blue eyes. ‘And this is Pancake.’
    â€˜Pancake,’ Sarah repeated, unsure if he referred to his horse or the squat roly-poly man beside him.
    â€˜Pancake,’ the shorter man clarified, ‘on account of when I take me hat off, me hair’s always squashed flat like a –’
    â€˜Pancake,’ Toby grinned, zipping up his jacket.
    â€˜Okay then.’ Sarah knew it was going to be one of those days.
    Toby and Pancake opened a number of mesh dog cages and a bedraggled assortment of working dogs escaped. The horses reared and whinnied, the dogs barked and peed on every tyre they could find, twice, and then completed a number of quick dashes around both horse floats. Finally the entire crew settled into work mode. Sarah looked at Bullet, who stared back with a look of disdain. He never had taken much to working with strangers and was just as likely to bite first and bark later. Sarah waggled her finger at him to behave.
    â€˜Knew your grandfather. Wily old bastard, Angus.’ Toby lounged nonchalantly in his saddle, his right leg hooked up as if he were sitting in a chair.
    â€˜Thanks.’
    â€˜Now he was a grazier. Old school-like.’ He gestured towards Matt. ‘Wasn’t surprised when I heard he got the run of things down here. Reckon Angus had everything all sorted by the time he kicked the bucket and that’s the way it should be if you’ve got any nous.’ He gave Sarah a slow head-to-toe glance. ‘So how are you going being boss of Wangallon?’
    Sarah experienced the unusual sensation of being mentally undressed. ‘It’s great.’ Her fingers pulled at the zip on her jacket until it reached her throat.
    Toby’s mouth crooked itself up at one corner until an unnerving grin gradually spread from his cheek to a fan of sun-created wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.
    â€˜We’ll split up.’ Matt gave brief directions on how he wanted the paddock mustered. He pointed out a 30 acre clump of belahtrees that ran in a belt across the southern tip of the paddock that could easily hide a canny mob of steers, and gave directions for gateways. Before he’d finished his last sentence, Toby was already cantering away from them, Pancake and a menagerie of dogs in pursuit.
    â€˜Where’s Anthony?’
    Sarah hunched her shoulders. He’d left the homestead early that morning without a word and was strangely quiet the night before over dinner. If she’d been in the mood for an argument she would have mentioned the accounting problem, but she knew him too well. Anthony’s quiet mood was indicative of a problem and she wasn’t going to add to his angst, at least not until tonight.

    Standing up in the stirrups, Sarah whistled at Bullet. Excitement had got the better of him and in an effort to slow the 50 or so steers that had broken from the main mob he had raced to the front and was now hanging off the nose of one of the steers. Touching her spurs lightly against her mare, Tess, Sarah galloped across the paddock towards Bullet, aware the main mob was