The dark face and wild eyes regarded her through the glass. ‘Missus Milly. Alonga quick, quick. Fire come.’

Millicent’s heart was pounding and her hands were shaking as she wound down the window. ‘Thank God,’ she shouted above the wails of her startled baby. ‘I thought we were going to be burned alive.’

‘You die you alonga stay,’ said Delilah sharply. ‘Come me now.’

As Delilah disappeared into the smoke Millicent ignored the screaming baby squirming against her breasts, turned the key in the ignition and switched on the headlights. She could now see the tracker’s wife astride the horse, her arm waving impatiently for her to follow.

Millicent was trembling and the sweat was soaking through her dress as she gripped the steering wheel and pressed her foot on the accelerator. She’d always regarded herself as a tough, strong woman who could handle anything life threw at her – but now she was on the verge of collapsing with dread.

The fire was too close, Delilah had kicked the horse into a fast trot and kept disappearing into the swirling smoke and the petrol gauge was showing almost empty.

She gritted her teeth and put her trust in God and Delilah to get them all out of here.

*

Gwyneth’s jaw was hurting and her knee was throbbing. She suspected it was her own fault she was in such discomfort, for she’d ignored everyone’s advice as usual and had carried on regardless of her injuries. But she was made of stern stuff, and a bit of pain wasn’t going to stop her getting to her injured son.

Terence had driven north towards Killigarth Station in almost complete silence, and Gwyneth wondered if that was because he was tired and needed to concentrate or because she’d made him cross by insisting upon coming with him. Either way, the journey was quite pleasant on this empty road, with the clear bright stars overhead and the sprawling pastures gilded by the waning moon.

But her thoughts weren’t really on the scenery; they were on Max and the awful fear that lay heavy in her heart. But as the utility tyres hummed on the tarmac, she determinedly put her dread aside and let the memories flood back.

She and Rhys had only been married four months when it became clear she was going to have a baby. Although Gwyneth really didn’t mind what sex it might be, she knew Rhys was hoping for a son.

The labour had been long and painful, and she could tell by Rhys’s expression that he was getting worried. He’d tried to persuade her to return home to her parents in Brisbane for the birth, but she’d insisted upon having her baby at Morgan’s Reach, just like all the other women. After all, her husband was the community doctor, and if she couldn’t trust him to deliver her safely, then no one else would.