Australian Quinns. Kate Hoffmann

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Australian Quinns - Kate Hoffmann Mills & Boon By Request

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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

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