Becky was trying hard not to think about the people she loved and the danger they were in as she dealt with the cuts and bruises the women and children had sustained while riding in the backs of utilities across the rough ground from Carey Downs. She knew from Emily that Django had picked up Danny’s trail, but there’d been no further news – and it had been over two hours since Delilah had gone back to find her father. As for Ben, she could only glean from the gossip of those coming into Morgan’s Reach that he was still out there with Jake and the hundreds of volunteers, battling to keep the fire out of Warratah.

Becky was on the front veranda having a cigarette and a cup of tea when she saw Amy running down the street towards her. Her pulse began to race as she dropped the cigarette in the tea and pushed through the screen door, her mouth drying with fear. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

‘It’s all right,’ panted Amy. ‘Django’s found Danny. He’s safe.’

Becky felt her legs trembling and she made a grab for Amy to stop herself from falling down. ‘Thank God. Where is he? I have to go to him.’

Amy shook her head, her dark curls flying about her face. ‘Django said you must wait until he brings him home.’

‘But why? Why can’t I go and fetch them both?’

Amy steered her back up the steps and on to the veranda, pushing her down into a cane chair. ‘I know how you must be feeling – I would be the same if it was George. But Django was very clear when he said Danny was safe. He’s keeping an eye on him, Becky – and when Danny’s ready to come home he’ll bring him straight back.’

She twisted her hands in her lap. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said fretfully. ‘Why does he need watching – why can’t he just bring him straight home?’

Amy sat down beside her and put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Danny is with someone called John Miller, and Django reckons—’

Rebecca sprang from the chair. ‘I don’t care what Django reckons,’ she snapped. ‘None of us knows who the hell this John Miller is and I don’t want him anywhere near my son!’

‘But Django seemed so certain,’ said Amy, her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘Please, Becky, you …’

Jane had overheard this exchange and now she came through the inner screen door with a clatter and turned Rebecca to face her. ‘If Django is keeping an eye on Danny, then no harm will come to him,’ she said firmly. ‘You must trust him.’

‘But I don’t understand,’ said Rebecca. ‘Why is he making such a mystery out of everything? Who is this Miller? Why does he trust him with my little boy?’