‘Yes, of course,’ Tilly said. Looking at her cousin, she knew then that she didn’t have a choice. Sophie, as she had promised, had walked with Tilly every step of the way along her painful road of recovery, her patience, strength and cheering presence always available. Her sturdy arms had cradled Tilly as she wept, her blunt, workmanlike hands had soothed away the nightmares plaguing those early months . . . The very least she owed her cousin now was the truth.

Drawing a strained breath, Tilly said, ‘Anything, Soph, but first there’s something I have to tell you . . .’

Chapter Thirteen

On the third day after the flying doctor had flown Jane Wellaway out, Luke returned to Binboona. He arrived sharing the back seat of a twincab HiLux with the two young sons of a tourist couple who were towing a camper trailer around Australia. Having waved them off and hi-fived the two boys, who plainly regarded him as their personal property, Luke set his small carryall down on the old verandah planks and stretched.

‘Good to be home.’ An unfamiliar stubble darkened his jaw. ‘Hiya, Tilly. That last bit of road’s getting in an awful state. Time it was graded again.’

‘It’s seen lots of traffic,’ Tilly agreed. ‘How did Jane get on? Is she okay now?’

‘Yep, the hospital discharged her yesterday. She and Don left for the Alice this morning.’

‘Did the doctor work out what it was that bit her?’

‘Best bet is a centipede or a scorpion. A very severe reaction, they said, so she either got a lot of the venom or she’s highly allergic. She’s okay now though, but a bit off camping.’

‘Well, that’s understandable.’ Tilly locked the cashbox. ‘Come and have a cuppa, Luke. So where does she live? Can you see her again?’

‘New South Wales.’ He grimaced, picking up his bag and following her into the kitchen. ‘We’ll write to each other, and I’ll visit her when the camp closes.’ Dumping the bag, he gave her a clear-eyed look. ‘I know, I know – you’re thinking it won’t last. A month or two and the letters’ll stop. But I’m serious about her, Tilly. I’ve never met anyone quite like her before.’

Quashing the urge to tell him that in six months’ time he would barely remember her face, Tilly nodded sympathetically. At his age, what did Luke know about love, how it could rip your heart in two, turn on you, betray you? Once . . . She shook the notion away. ‘Twenty-two. That’s very young to be thinking of a permanent partnership,’ was all she said.

‘And you’re Lady Methuselah, right? Come on, Tilly, how old were you when—’ He caught himself. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.’