‘Max,’ she sobbed as she stroked his face and tried to rouse him. ‘Max, my darling, please wake up.’

Brandy whined and licked his hand, snuffling against him and nudging him with his nose.

But Max didn’t respond.

‘Stay and look after him,’ Sal ordered the dog. ‘I’m going to get help.’ She jumped back on to Molly, startling the mare into a skittering dance.

Sal dug in her heels, urging her into a gallop – and beyond the rise and still some distance away she could now see the low huddle of sprawling buildings. But there were no lights gleaming in the darkness, and no sign of movement but for the shifting cattle in a nearby pen and the furious barking coming from the kennels.

‘Come on, Molly,’ she urged the mare. ‘There has to be someone there who can help us.’

But as the mare galloped past the seemingly deserted native quarters, bunkhouses, barns, sheds and cookhouse, there was no reply to her frantic calls.

She brought Molly to a skidding halt outside the homestead, leaped off her back and crashed through the screen door on to the veranda. ‘Is anybody here?’ she shouted. ‘I need help.’

The only reply was the continued cacophony of barking coming from the kennels.

She yanked open the inner screen door and entered the homestead. Surely Amy must be at home looking after George? ‘Amy?’ she called. ‘Amy, are you there?’

But even as she called, she could see the remains of a meal still on the table and all the signs of a hasty departure. The whole of Killigarth must have gone south to help fight the fire.

She stood in an agony of indecision. There were no trucks or vehicles of any sort outside, so she couldn’t get Max back to Morgan’s Reach that way. And she certainly couldn’t risk trying to get him back on Betsy. But she had to do something – and fast.

The old-fashioned two-way stood in the corner by the large stone fireplace. Sal ran to it and began to pedal it into life. ‘This is Sal Davenport calling the hospital at Morgan’s Reach,’ she said once it was fully charged. ‘Doctor Hugh, this is an emergency.’

A woman’s voice she didn’t recognise came down the line. ‘Doctor Hugh isn’t available, and Doctor Terence is in theatre. What sort of emergency do you have – and where are you?’

Sal frowned. She’d only been away from Morgan’s Reach a matter of days. Who was this woman – and who the hell was Doctor Terence? She shook off these insignificant irritations. ‘Max has collapsed and I can’t rouse him. He’s losing a lot of blood from a head wound. You have to send someone quick.’

‘Where exactly are you?’