Later that morning Jackbird and Callie came to Limberlost. It was odd for them to appear together; all summer Ned had watched as Jackbird tried to cultivate the persona of a dashing outsider, a role which did not have room for a younger sister, while Callie had gripped her shotgun, patrolled her paddocks, and come to decide that her older brother was both deluded and an idiot.

Ned was glad to see them. All morning his father and sister had hovered about him like injured moths. The old man had given him no chores. Maggie had lent him a book, which was in his hands as Jackbird and Callie approached. He was looking at its pages, taking none of the words in. It had been their mother’s favourite since childhood, Maggie had told him. A Girl of the Limberlost. The book from which their mother had taken the name for the orchard, seeing in their valley the same colours and dreams of the forest she’d read about in the novel.

Ned wanted to read it. Wanted to find in its pages the images and sensations that his mother had. Wanted something to root him to the earth, now that the river was out of his reach. But he couldn’t focus, couldn’t blunt the spikes in his thoughts, so he was happy to see Jackbird and Callie, glad that the sight of them together gave him something else to be curious about. He put his mother’s book down and began walking towards them. Met them in the driveway.

Jackbird forced a grin. ‘Morning, Neddy.’

Ned studied them. Saw the awkwardness and hesitancy in Jackbird. Saw how Callie, her arm no longer slung but still held against her body, was looking at the ground. Her usually fearless eyes avoided his.

Apprehension jostled his curiosity. ‘What’s all this, then?’

Jackbird scratched his neck. ‘Your boat…’

‘I sold it.’

‘Oh. That makes sense.’ Jackbird twisting on his heels, twisting at his hip. Something kinking him up. ‘Because, well…’

For the first time that Ned could remember, his friend struggled to speak. Ned’s dread swelled. The silence was bitter and awful. Eventually, after a few false starts, Jackbird managed it. Got it all out in a tripping torrent. When he was finished, Callie looked up. Tried to tell Ned how sorry she was, but she was talking to air, to rising dust. He was already gone.

~

He’d left his bike by the boatshed, so he took the mare. Had no time to feel the usual trepidation as he approached her, threw on her saddle, threw himself onto her back. Kicked her up the driveway. For a moment he worried that she wasn’t yet up to galloping, but she ran strong, pulling at the bit. He leaned into her neck.