‘My grandmother, Granny Mim, is up to my chin, but she’s the toughest woman I know.’ She laughed. ‘At seventy-eight, she’s tougher even than my mother, who’s a force to be reckoned with. I followed both their footsteps to become a nurse and my own to become a midwife.’

And matched their toughness, he thought, that’s clear. He enjoyed watching her. She made him smile inside, and the more time he spent with her, the clearer his attraction to her became. It was so easy, so natural to spend time with her. ‘What happened when they fell in love?’

She laughed as if it was a much-repeated story. ‘My grandfather took Granny Mim back to Setabilly when it was nothing but a stone croft and a windmill from the bore. Just a lot of barren-looking land that could hold a mob of cattle and keep them alive as long as it rained. She thrived, and anything he could do, she mastered as well.

‘She loves a challenge and says she always will. It’s diverse country. Borderline. Has extreme heat in the summer, a brief wet season like the Top End, and a high mountain range that runs with waterfalls when it rains – though that’s rare. I love the glory of it. With a passion.’

She swept her arm out to the side, where the distance stretched endlessly away from the road into the never-never. ‘Unfortunately, we’ve had a run of poor rainfall years and need a major injection of cash. Mum and I use our wages to help, but that’s still only providing the bare essentials. Plus, there’s a limit my family will let me give.’

They were quiet for a few minutes as he allowed that to sink in. The scope of the past, the trials of the future, the meaning of family supporting family. Someone was missing, however. ‘What about your father? You haven’t mentioned him.’

‘My dad died not long after my brother was born. He was a policeman in Sydney and Mum moved us to Granny Mim and Pop’s after he died, so we grew up on the station. Then, ten years ago, my grandfather was killed in a gyrocopter accident, mustering cattle.’ Her voice softened with the remembered distress.

‘I’m sorry. That must have been devastating.’

She sighed. ‘It changed everything. My brother was only fourteen, I was fifteen. Suddenly, Granny Mim and my mother had to run the station. We would have gone under without the support of the Aboriginal families who worked with us, and the families from the other stations.