The cabin was dusty, heavily scented with hay and oil, already so hot that the underside of James’s clean legs immediately stuck to the plastic seat covers. His uncle pulled at the gearstick and they glided along the gravel, not towards the enticing road into town, but down the hill, deeper into the farmland.

His uncle’s body rolled with every bump and rattle of the track, which soon became nothing more than wheat stubble in black soil. Everything about him was the same colour, the hue of the straw, and the clouds of dust that came off the road, and he grinned whenever James caught his eye.

The outline of Tony on his motorbike showed in the shade of a spreading tree, by a gate that gave onto endless paddocks peppered by sand-coloured wheat stalks. As they approached, he gave a sharp cut to the air, a wave that Uncle Bill returned with speed.

‘We’re gonna top up the tanks so we can get this lot burned off after the honeymoon,’ Uncle Bill said, gesturing towards the dry foothills. ‘This is all our land here.’

His uncle’s worn hand swept to the right, pointing to where the greener patch of Glen Alpine could be seen close to the main road. ‘That’s the bit your grandparents used to work,’ he said. ‘But all of it – Deloraine, and Glen Alpine – will be Tony’s as of next week.’

James nodded while his uncle changed gears.

‘It’s all agreed. After Tony and Leanne get married, they’ll move into Glen Alpine. The family land goes to whoever’s still here and willing to work it. Always has and always will,’ his uncle added, turning to check that James had taken it all in.

‘Grandma and Grandpa’s place is looking a bit overgrown,’ James said.

His uncle sniffed and glanced over at the old homestead, swamped by greenery.

‘We’ll get over and slash the garden before the happy couple gets back,’ he said. ‘No one’s done the garden since your grandmother moved into town.’

The ute slowed and Tony wrenched the passenger door open.

‘Morning,’ Uncle Bill said. ‘We’ve got young James helping us today.’

‘Yeah, I see,’ Tony said, throwing his thick legs into the cabin, which seemed instantly smaller with him inside. A flop of golden hair spilled from under his hat.

‘Scoot over there a bit, wouldya?’ he asked. ‘You can come back this way a bit,’ he added, pulling James to the side of his warm leg, blond hairs standing like wheat stubble.

‘Don’t get too close, you two,’ Uncle Bill said. ‘Leanne might get worried.’

Tony laughed. It welled up from inside him, and the confident vibration went through James like an electric current.