It had taken all morning to make the pasties. Dara had insisted they sit and eat one before Paula left, loaded up with another pile of food. Then she’d gone via the Browns to pick up the pup. Rod had been keen to discuss his business ideas again, so it was another hour before she bundled the pup into the box she’d taken with her and driven home.

She’d put newspaper down and shut him in the laundry with his bed and a bowl of water, before grabbing the food for Dan and dashing out again. Poor little animal, she hoped it would be all right until she got back. Tarzan had been most interested but she hadn’t had time to introduce them.

She was startled by two strong arms wrapping around her.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Dan murmured in her ear.

She turned herself in his arms and looked at the smile barely curving the corners of his mouth. His eyes were red and he was coated in dust. She kissed him anyway. He even tasted like dust.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said.

“I haven’t been hungry till now.” He looked past her into the boot. “How did the pastie making go?”

“I’ll never be a Dara I’m afraid, but I think I could try it on my own. We made a huge number.” She wrapped a pastie in some paper towel and handed it to him.

“Sauce?”

“Oh, no, sorry, I was in such a rush I forgot.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He bit into the warm pastry. “Mmmm,” he mumbled. “This is good.”

They both perched on the boot of the car and gazed out across the paddock.

“What are you doing here?” Paula asked.

He continued to gaze forward and eat the pastie and she almost thought he hadn’t heard her. She was about to ask again when he turned to her and shrugged.

“I’m harvesting a pea crop. We should get a good return from the peas and we may well make a small fortune from the straw.”

“Really?” She looked across the rows of clumps of brown plant matter. His reply had been flippant. Sometimes she couldn’t tell when he was joking.

“Perhaps not a small fortune but it will pay the bills,” he said softly.

Paula didn’t reply. She thought she knew her husband well but at that moment he could have been a complete stranger. Perhaps he was always like this at harvest time. She didn’t know. Rowena might, but how could Paula ask? Rowena would only give her some lecture on getting used to the highs and lows of farm life. Paula reached into the boot to pour the tea.

“Harvest will be over early this year,” Dan said as she handed him the mug. “Perhaps we can go to Sydney for Christmas.”