‘You’re with us now,’ Adelaide said. ‘Do you want something to eat?’

Danny shook his head and curled up on the floor. When they were satisfied the boy was asleep once more, Caleb and Adelaide ate the last of the bread and cheese as the sun rose on a blackened landscape.

Caleb brushed the crumbs from his filthy shirt and stood up. ‘Come outside for a minute, Adelaide,’ he said.

He looked down into Adelaide’s face. She had runnels down her dirt- and ash-smeared cheeks where she had wept for her son, her brown eyes reddened from the smoke and sunk in dark circles. He wiped at a smudge of soot across her cheekbone with his thumb but only succeeded in smearing it further.

He cupped her face in his hands, running his thumbs along the line of her jaw. ‘We survived, Adelaide.’

She smiled, a tight-lipped, humourless smile. ‘We did. I think God and his angels were watching over us. By rights we should never have outrun that fire. Unlike poor Richard.’

Privately, Caleb had no sympathy for Richard Barnwell. He’d left them to die and had got his just reward.

‘Do I look as bad as you?’ he asked.

‘Worse.’ She scuffed at the whiskers on his chin.

He hunkered down by the river and washed his face as best he could, then ran the cold water through his hair. She joined him, letting her long, dishevelled plait of hair loose and rebraiding it. He watched her deft fingers working and thought he would never tire of watching her.

When he was satisfied that he looked the best he could in the circumstances, he stood, mindful of his stiff, sore muscles.

‘I’m going for help,’ he said and glanced back at the cave. ‘I think Danny is on the improve.’ He did a rough calculation in his head. ‘It will be late morning before I get to town and then I have to find some transport for Dan. It could be a long day for you, Adelaide.’

She nodded. ‘We’ll be here. Go now, Caleb.’

The river had risen with the rain. Caleb waded across, his boots slipping on the rocks. He paused on the other side to wave to Adelaide, who stood at the entrance to the mine, her arms crossed, watching him on his way.

The absolute silence of the bush overwhelmed him as he climbed up the track. No birds, no rustle of trees. Nothing. The fire had laid waste to the hillsides, countless wildlife dead in the ashes, the trees reaching skeletal black limbs to the sky. His feet chafed in his damp boots and the sting of rising blisters reminded him that he still had miles to walk.

He passed the charred body of Richard Barnwell and his horse, giving them only a passing glance. Despite the horrific way he had died, Caleb only felt rage for the man. Adelaide was too forgiving.