High Country Christmas

Chapter One- The Earnslaw

The heat of the day, sun sparkling on the lake and the   bustle of people on the wide jetty made me smile. My heart was light with the anticipation of knowing I would soon be heading across the Lake aboard the vintage Earnslaw to Tall Peaks Station. it sat on the shores of Lake Wakatipu, Queenstown. A tourist mecca of sorts in New Zealand.

Tall Peaks Station was a high Country sheep farm, running thousands of merino sheep on tussock grass in the summer and often a good portion of it was under snow in the winter. There was a back road access but it took hours over a dusty uneven road, taking the Earnslaw was much more direct route.

I hadn't had a great year. In fact in many respects it had been one of the worst ever. So when I met Leah, the station owners wife, in town last week and she asked me to come out and start my summer 'working holiday' a month early, I jumped at the chance.

Today I had been shopping for some perishable supplies and a large number of bulk dairy items. All this needed to be taken from the flat deck of the supermarket ute down the jetty to the steamer.

I had been making this trip out to Tall Peaks for the past twelve years since I turned fourteen, so Leah trusted me to get whatever I thought we'd need for the summer. I was taken by surprise when strong arms leant in and reached for some of the groceries ahead of me. I glanced up quickly. 

My smile was cut short by the near blank stare I receieved. I was looking into the unkempt face of a stranger. The 10kg bag of flour was tossed up on his shoulder while he continued to carry a full tramping pack on his back and he reached for another bag.

His gaze seemed to ask for permission to help me with a vague lift of his eyebrow. I kicked myself for stuttering, but it was unavoidable as our eyes locked and I realized that the dark tanned strong arms belonged to the most perfect male specimen I'd ever set my eyes on.

His shoulders were broad and he was wearing a tshirt and shorts, with a pair of heavy socks and tramping boots. His dark brown hair was long and untidy, and very sun bleached in places to bright blonde. It was kind of clumped at the ends like he was working on dred-locks or had loads of product in it, and he had several days worth of facial hair making his dark tanned skin seem darker by contrast to the brown and blonde scruffy beard.

" Ahh, ye-yes, thanks. " I nodded. I stood stunned as I enjoyed the sight of watching him walk the short distance to the steam boat, and he threw the two bags down with ease. I forced myself to turn away with a grin on my face. I pulled the trolley the short distance down the jetty to unload. Frank, the captain called from the top deck, "You going to be much longer Sascha?"

I shook my head, "Just one more load." I set to unloading, the heat of the day had me wiping my forehead with the exertion, "You could help Frank, it might speed things up." I muttered under my breath, but I didn't really mind the work, I just didn't like the feeling that the whole boat full of tourists was waiting to leave dockside because of me.

Without a word to me, I realised that the dark eyed stranger was working away on the other side of the trolley, helping to unload. I smiled, nodding, "Thanks." But again he barely paused in his work, and looked at me with hard, assessing eyes. Then it came to me, maybe he didn't speak English.

We had many international tourists visit this part of the world, so it wasn't unusual to meet people who could only speak Italian, German, Korean or any other language from around the planet. Although this would account for the language barrier it didn't account for the blank, and unsmiling exterior. I shrugged, each to their own, grateful for the help regardless.

He followed me to the end of the jetty for the last load of groceries. After I had thrown on a couple of heavier bags, I paused to catch my breath and watched him as he kept his head down and continued to work tirelessly until everything was off the back of the ute and the load was ready to move down to the boat. His muscles worked across his tanned broad shoulders, and down to strong capable fingers.