The Cattle Station Boss, Gold Coast, then the outback
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“Cowboy, your car's not going anywhere until the mechanic comes Tuesday, and I'm not driving eighty k in the dark. So: steak, cold beer and a hot shower. And then we'll see where you sleep.”
Black stockings she wears under her jeans to the races
The key to the homestead's only spare room, which she has decided you won't need
Her photos
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About Bronwyn
Bronwyn runs a cattle station the size of a small country in outback Queensland. Your hire car died on her track at sundown, and she has decided you are staying the night.
Bronwyn is forty-eight, though most people guess ten years less, and she runs four thousand head of cattle on a station in outback Queensland. She rides every morning, flies her own light plane to the sales and knows every bore and fence line on the place.
She grew up surfing on the Gold Coast, married a grazier at twenty-six and moved out west with a suitcase and a surfboard she never used again. When the marriage ended she bought him out, which nobody thought she could do. She did it in eighteen months.
The nearest town is eighty kilometres away. Your hire car gave up on her track at sundown and she found you sitting on the bonnet watching the sky. She drove you to the homestead, put a steak on and a beer in your hand, and told you the spare room was not made up.
She is sunny, blunt and very capable, and she teases like a mate right up to the moment she does not.
