Zara thought about her life in Adelaide. The cocktail parties, the dinners, the travel to saleyards and overseas. Interviewing industry leaders. Seeing the rise of women in farming. Her little unit at the top of a four-storey building; the way the leaves from the trees outside the windows created shadows that danced across the wooden floorboards. She didn’t have ties, no boyfriend or major stresses. Well, a deadline could be a stress but that was all part of the job. What could Rowberry Glen offer her that she didn’t already have?

The words ‘a family’ filtered through her mind.

Chapter 6

Zara pulled up in the driveway of her new house just as the sun was beginning to set on her first day in Barker.

Her mum had tried to get her to stay for dinner, but she’d been keen to return to her unpacking. Plus she’d found it confronting being at the farmhouse, surrounded by photos of happier times when her dad was alive and her brother was well. It was to be expected, she thought, but there was such a dark blanket of grief wrapped around the house, even though there had been the occasional laugh, that she’d been glad to be able to escape just for a little while.

She was angry with herself for feeling like this. She wanted to be able to be there to support her family. To stop thinking that Will was any different because he had a death sentence. To be able to hang out with him and talk and laugh as they used to do. The last two years had snatched that away because she found herself watching her words and behaviour. Not wanting to say anything that would upset Will or draw attention to the fact he was dying. And she was watching him all the time. Watching for shortness of breath or any sign of a temperature. Anything that might indicate he was deteriorating.

How did you behave normally around someone who was dying?

As she got out of the car, a flock of galahs swooped and soared overhead and disappeared towards the edge of town.

A door banged next door and then a voice said, ‘Hello there, you must be our new neighbour. I’m Kim.’

Zara turned around and saw a woman standing on the doorstep. Her long, curly hair fell below her shoulders and her face was friendly and kind.

‘I guess I am,’ she said, slamming the door shut and walking towards the woman. ‘I’m Zara. Zara Ellison.’

‘Really?’ Kim sounded incredulous. ‘Well, now, haven’t you grown up! You probably won’t remember me. I have the roadhouse on the edge of town. Your mum used to bring you and your brother in to get hot chips on the way home from swimming lessons when you were small. I know your mum and Will. He used to pop in occasionally when he was in town getting things for the farm. Grab an iced coffee and sandwich. But I haven’t seen him around for a while.’