When she pulled up in front of the house a few minutes later, Stuart was walking down the steps towards his vehicle, his faithful companions Roy and Jock hot on his heels.

Today he definitely looked like a farmer. His jeans were well-worn and his jumper had a small hole in the hem. There was nothing of the man in the white shirt and trousers she’d met on that first day. He carried two thick coats over his arm and had a pair of gum boots in his hand, which he dumped into the back of the old four-wheel drive.

‘Morning,’ she said, as she opened the boot of her car and lifted out the canvas bag with her supplies. ‘The sun’s out for a change.’

‘Must be a sign,’ he said, reaching out to take the bag from her to carry to his car.

Elle eyed the smaller backpack in the front seat of her car as she chewed her lip thoughtfully. She didn’t know what to do. She’d tried to talk to Gran last night and again this morning about how she wanted Elle to go about the whole ashes thing, but there had been no reply. Not a single boo. With a reconciled sigh, Elle took the backpack and locked the car. She wasn’t sure if she was going to do it or not, but on the off-chance Gran decided to make an appearance, she wanted to be prepared.

‘How’s the accommodation at the pub?’ Stuart asked as they bounced along the track retracing the previous day’s route.

‘It’s fine. The beds are super comfy, and the food’s great,’ she said, looking out the window. ‘I’ve been meeting some of the locals over the past few nights. They seem like a nice bunch.’

‘That would have been entertaining for you, no doubt?’

‘It’s been very informative,’ she said diplomatically. ‘There’s a lot more to sheep farming than I expected.’ Somehow, no matter what the topics discussed, the conversation always seemed to come back to sheep. It shouldn’t have been surprising—the community was largely made up of crofting and farming, after all—but Elle felt under-prepared to weigh in on the finer points of breeding and the debate on whether bolus or drenching was the better way to go, pre-tupping.

‘That there is,’ Stuart agreed with a slight grin.

‘What are you doing today?’ she asked.

‘I’ll be assessing the tups, checking feed,’ he answered.

‘Oh. I see.’ Elle nodded as though she had a clue what any of that was. ‘So, what exactly is a tup?’ she asked after a few moments when the curiosity became too much.

He sent her a slightly amused sideways glance before answering. ‘A tup is a ram … a male sheep,’ he added.