‘Couple of my trackers found them boys,’ he replied. ‘Bloody young fools got lost on the tracks and ended up driving into a ditch. Bloody lucky they weren’t killed.’

‘Do they need medical assistance?’

‘They’ll be right,’ he drawled. ‘Which is more than I can say for the car. We’ll keep ’em here until the storm blows over.’

‘How’s it going out there?’

‘Wind, dust and electric storm. We’ve battened down the hatches, and the last of the cattle we could reach were brought into the pens. Any still left on the plains will just have to get on with it. Over and out.’

After contacting Jake about the twins, he drank his tea and chewed on the sandwich. Mrs Baker would rest easier tonight knowing they were safe. As for the reverend, he would have to take his chances along with Bob’s scrub cattle.

*

Becky was exhausted. It was barely seven o’clock, but it had been a long fraught day, and by the look of the weather, they were in for an even more tempestuous night.

‘I don’t see why I can’t go home,’ said Gwyneth crossly. ‘The animals need feeding and …’

‘You’ll stay where you are,’ Becky replied firmly. ‘Terence and Danny are seeing to the animals, and you need to stop talking and rest that leg.’ She took her grandmother’s hand. ‘It really is for the best, Gran,’ she said with a soft smile, ‘and Mum, Terry and I are sharing the night shift, so you’ll have company if you need it.’

Gwyneth grunted and flapped her hand towards the clattering shutters. ‘I shan’t sleep with all that racket going on,’ she muttered.

Becky gave her a glass of water and two tablets. ‘These will ease the pain and help you sleep,’ she said. She waited as her grandmother swallowed the pills and then kissed her cheek. ‘Goodnight, Gran. I’ll see you in the morning.’

Gwyneth slid down the pillows, pulled the sheet to her chest and closed her eyes, but Becky could tell from her expression that, despite her grumbling, she was glad not to be out in this awful weather, but safe and snug in her comfortable bed, the pills already beginning to work on the pain.

Turning off the light, Becky left the door ajar and went along the veranda to check on Mary and her new baby daughter. The entire family was asleep on the floor surrounding her bed, the small, smoky fire still smouldering in the tin tray. No one stirred as she tiptoed between them to take a peek at the baby.

The little mite was sleeping soundly in the cot, wrapped like a chrysalis in a white sheet, her tiny lips moving as if at the breast, her fists bunched sweetly beneath her chin.