“Yes.” Paula didn’t really understand why Dan and Ted had withdrawn half of the sheep they had intended to sell, at the last minute. They could have doubled their profit. Dan hadn’t seemed very happy about it.

“It shows people are still confident in breeding stock.”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“It’s this dry year. Lots of farmers will be selling stock, in case there’s no feed to keep them.”

“Don’t they eat what’s in the paddocks?”

“They’ll pick that bare and want more. If we end up in drought you’d have to have a huge stockpile of hay to get you through. People sell off their excess stock just in case. Rod can recall his father having to shoot sheep one year. Couldn’t even give them away.”

“How awful.” Paula understood there’d be little grain harvested but she hadn’t thought about what happened to the animals. She tried to picture Dan with a gun, shooting his sheep.

“We’ve never had to do anything like that, thank goodness,” Monica said. “Last year rainfall was low and this year has been particularly dry. Some old-timers say a dry year is followed by a good one. I’m always optimistic but another follow-on season like this wouldn’t be good.”

Paula remembered the shearing when she’d first arrived on the farm and the pride with which Dan showed her the fleece he’d spread out on the sorting table in the shed. “Dan has a lot of his hopes pinned on our sheep.”

“Dan and Ted have come a long way in a short time with their breeding program. It’s a shame that the market can be so fickle. My little business doesn’t earn enough to pay the bills in the lean years.” Monica’s face lit up. “Rod and I are looking at some other options though. We want to turn our own wool into jumpers on a larger scale. If we have success, we’ll be looking for a local source of more wool. It might be something you and Dan would be interested in.”

A rowdy rendition of the club song boomed around them.

Paula leaned closer to Monica. “I’d like to talk to you about that.”

When the noise subsided, Monica’s husband, Rod, arrived. He nodded a hello to Paula before patting his wife on the shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Well, that would have to be a first.” Monica raised her eyebrows. “You ready to go before me.” She looked back at Paula. “We can’t leave Paula here by herself.”

“I’ll be fine.” Paula glanced at her watch. It was very late or very early, depending on which way you looked at it. She had been lost in her conversation with Monica. “We should go home, too. Dan said he had jobs to do first thing.”