Bob eyed the dressings and drips thoughtfully. ‘Yeah, that’s what I said you’d say, but you know what women are like.’

‘Well, now you’ve had a good look, why don’t you clear off and leave a bloke to get some rest?’

‘You’re a miserable old bastard at the best of times, Mac, but I reckon I gotta thank you for what you done today.’

‘Reckon you done good as well, you thieving galah – and when I get outta this flaming bed I’ll be counting every one of my clean skins to make sure you haven’t nicked any.’

‘And I’ve got enough to do clearing up my place, without worrying about a few scrawny cattle.’

The two men glared at one another as Jane stood uncertainly in doorway.

Big Mac was the first to look away. ‘What’s the damage, Bob?’

‘Flaming fire went right through, mate. Sorry, there ain’t much left of either of our places. We’ve rounded up all the cattle and sheep and sent them up to Killigarth until we’ve got some grass to feed ’em – and before you start sounding off, your stock has been separated from mine.’

Big Mac had a ghost of a smile on his lips. ‘Thanks, mate.’

‘No worries,’ muttered Bob as he tugged on his hat. ‘Hope you get better soon, mate. Catch ya later.’

‘You can bet the house on that, you bloody old crook,’ retorted Mac with a chuckle.

Jane stepped aside as Bob Freeman strode out of the room with a big grin plastered across his face. She would never understand men – especially these Australian men who lived out in the Never-Never, for they were definitely a breed of their own.

*

Gwyneth had been forcibly reminded of Rhys’s passing as she’d washed and changed into a rusty-black dress that had seen better days and only came out of mothballs for funerals. A dark straw hat and sensible walking shoes completed her outfit, and she’d placed her prayer book on the dresser next to her black lace gloves.

She’d sat in her shuttered kitchen, the rough-hewn coffin on the table beside her, the single candle flickering in the gloom, and listened to the noisy arrival of the firefighters and their equally noisy welcome. She’d been glad that everyone was back, but hadn’t had the energy or heart to go outside, for the events of the past twenty-four hours had taken their toll.

She’d remained there in the candlelight as the clock ticked away on the wall, Coco screeched from the back veranda and Wally snored in her lap. The shouts had finally faded and all was quiet as the community sobered itself for the funeral.