Jack turned to her.

She swallowed the lump that kept returning to her throat, aware Milt was watching her too. “Yes, don’t be on your own, come over.” Natalie heard herself say the words while she hoped he would refuse.

He didn’t, and then they were driving away.

“I hope Bree and Graeme have been managing okay.”

Natalie studied Milt as he manoeuvred along the Halbots’ track back towards the front gate. Over the years there’d been plenty of strangers at their table. Milt loved inviting people for dinner and she enjoyed it too. They’d entertained family, friends and neighbours, wool buyers, interstate breeders, families visiting the region sponsored by the local church, and once when Milt had been more involved with the farming federation, they’d even had a busload of politicians stop for afternoon tea and a discussion about life on the land. Natalie had taken it all in her stride but the thought of Jack Halbot sitting at her table set all those pieces of the jigsaw of her life whirling again.

“What the hell’s going on now?”

Milt’s exclamation brought her back to the present. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed they’d reached home. Olive’s car was parked by the back gate and Graeme’s battered ute was pulled in beside it with the dogs barking a welcome from the back.

Natalie followed Milt inside. The wooden door crashed against the wall but she was distracted by the smell of burning and the cacophony of noise coming from her kitchen. They both came to a stop in the doorway. Natalie’s mouth fell open at the sight before her. Every surface was covered in some kind of cooking utensil or bowl and half the contents of her pantry. Laura, Olive and Graeme were all standing around the table, Kate, looking pale, was lying on the floor with her legs propped up on a chair and Bree was half lying, half sitting on the table, one leg wrapped in a bandage and strips of bloodied denim scattered on the floor below.

“What in the blue blazes is going on here!” Milt strode forward.

There was a brief moment of quiet, except for the radio, as if someone had pressed a pause button, and then everyone spoke at once.

Natalie was the only one not speaking. She glanced again at Kate then at Bree, not knowing which of her daughters needed her the most. She decided on Bree.

“Quiet, the lot of you,” Milt bellowed and Laura had the good sense to turn off the radio.

“What have you done?” Natalie’s usual sense of calm in a crisis had deserted her.

Bree gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m all right, Mum. Came off my bike. Granny thinks I’ll need some stitches.”