Chapters (48)
- Cover
- Praise
- About the Author
- Also by Tricia Stringer
- Title Page
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- Excerpt
- One
She could hear the smile in his voice. He’d been watching the sky for a decent rain for months.
“That’s good.”
“We’ll be out in the paddock seeding as soon as there’s a break. It’s already a bit too wet so might be another day or so.”
“How’re the girls?”
There was a slight hesitation. “They’re good. All still here with me. And Mum. Laura’s cooked a pork roast.”
“Of course, it’s Saturday night. How is Olive?”
Once more there was a pause and then. “She’s fine.”
And there was that word she’d learned was code for anything but fine. Now she found herself wondering what he really meant.
“What about you?” he said. “You must have a suntan by now.”
“I’m f…” She stopped herself, refusing to hide behind that word any more. “I’m well but I haven’t resolved anything yet.”
There was silence. She looked at her screen, the call was still connected. She put the phone back to her ear. “Are you still there?”
“Yes. Listen, Natalie, whatever it is you need to work out, don’t you think it would help if we talked?”
“It’s too hard over the phone.”
“No, here at home.”
Natalie gripped the phone tighter. “Eventually.”
“How long is that going to be?” Milt asked.
“I don’t know.”
“The girls…well, they wish you were home.”
“Has something happened?”
“No, but we miss you…I miss you. I’m worried.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Milt.” She chewed her lip, so cross she’d said that word again despite her best intentions not to. “I’ll call you again in a week.”
“A week!”
“I’m going to a friend’s place for dinner. I have to go. Give my love to the girls and Olive.”
She ended the call. The flock of white cockatoos whirled overhead, screeching at her lie. Well, it wasn’t all a lie. She was going to Rosie’s to eat the fish they’d caught today but not for an hour or so yet. There was no rush. There was never any rush here.
She looked across the grass and shrubs to the trees that edged the sandhills. The sun was low in the sky, turning everything golden with its rays. She loved this part of the afternoon here. Everyone had knocked off for the day, the throbbing of distant helicopters had ceased and there was little to be heard but the odd voice from another camper, a distant vehicle and the chirrup of birds. Everything was settling, waiting for night to fall.