Free Queen of the Road by Tricia Stringer Page A

great, thanks.’
    Jilly stopped at the house gate and Coop led the way to the back verandah. He sensed Jeremy’s hesitation as Rusty hobbled towards them.
    ‘Don’t worry about Rusty,’ he said. ‘He’s harmless, more of a pet these days than a working dog. You’re getting a bit old to be picking fights, aren’t you, buddy?’ Coop ruffled Rusty’s ears then pointed back at Jilly by the gate. ‘Although he still lets Jilly know who’s boss.’
    Jeremy stepped carefully past Rusty and Coop opened the back door. ‘Head inside. I’ll wash my hands and be right with you.’
    By the time Coop entered the kitchen Jeremy was seated at the table reading the local paper.
    ‘Looking to see what’s on,’ he said. ‘I’m here for a few more weeks. What do you do for entertainment?’
    Coop put a glass of cordial in front of Jeremy then raised his own, taking several swallows before he spoke. ‘You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t get out much.’
    ‘You were in town on the weekend. What do you do?’
    Coop studied Jeremy’s face. It was good to see the red was fading. The cool drink was having its effect. ‘I keep to myself mostly, and there’s always something to do around the farm.’
    ‘But the weekends?’
    ‘Farming doesn’t always fit neatly into weeks and weekends.’
    Jeremy put a hand to his forehead and rested his elbow on the table. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to survive.’
    Coop felt sorry for the bloke. It wasn’t always easy adjusting to a new place – years of shifting around had taught him that.
At least I like the country
, he thought. His few trips to the city were always short, and while he was there, he yearned for the open spaces. No doubt Jeremy was feeling the reverse.
    ‘Sometimes there’s a cabaret or a dance at the local hall,’ he said. ‘The Highway Hotel’s been advertising bands, but I don’t knowwhen they’re on, sorry.’ He racked his brains for other ideas. ‘Barb and Bill at the Munirilla pub run darts nights, pool nights, bingo. Sometimes, if there’s no sport on, some of the younger blokes head to Whyalla or Port Augusta. It’s a long drive but …’ he trailed off. From the look on Jeremy’s face, Coop could see that none of his suggestions were appealing. ‘If I’ve got a few days off I tend to chuck my swag in the ute and go camping, either in the bush or over on the coast.’
    Jeremy’s eyes locked with Coop’s. For a moment there was a look of despair in them, then Jeremy pulled a face. ‘My father said this job would test me. I thought he meant I wasn’t up to the work. Now I realise he was referring to life outside work. Still, I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s only happy if I’m not.’
    Coop heard the bitterness in his voice.
    Jeremy stood up and looked out the window. ‘The pub has turned out to be quite comfortable, but maybe I should look around for somewhere to rent.’ He waved a hand to take in the kitchen. ‘This isn’t bad for workers’ housing.’
    ‘This isn’t mine.’ Coop picked up the glasses and moved them to the sink. ‘Alice, the owner, asked me to stay in here while she’s away.’
    ‘Alice? You lucky guy. You’ve landed a job with a mistress rather than a master. Must be a few extra perks in that.’
    Coop didn’t like the suggestive spark in Jeremy’s pale blue eyes. ‘I’ve got a few more jobs to do,’ he said. He opened the back door and stood beside it. ‘Will you be right to find your way to the Camerons’?’
    ‘Yeah, sure.’ Jeremy stopped in front of him. ‘Look, I didn’t mean anything … I was just joking.’
    Coop saw the red flush in Jeremy’s face again, but this time it wasn’t from the heat.
    ‘Alice is sick at the moment. I guess I don’t have much of a sense of humour when it comes to jokes about her.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’ Jeremy’s cheeks deepened in colour.
    ‘Forget it.’ Coop gave a conciliatory smile. ‘But I really have more work to do.’
    Jeremy turned and