Caleb’s eyes creased in the corners as he smiled. ‘I reckon you’ve been on quite a journey, young man.’

‘My arm hurts,’ Danny grumbled, then thought for a moment, ‘and I’m very hungry.’

Caleb stood up. He loomed over Danny. ‘Netty will be right glad to hear that,’ he said.

Danny tried to pull himself up in the bed but he didn’t seem to have any strength.

‘Let me help you.’ Caleb repositioned the pillows and lifted Danny into a sitting position, from where he surveyed his room. The smell of baking bread drifted from the kitchen and he could hear Netty singing to herself. It was all so comforting that he wanted to cry.

‘Where’s Mama?’ he asked in a small voice. ‘Has she gone to church?’

‘No, she’s still asleep,’ Caleb said. ‘I’ll just go and tell Netty that she has one hungry young man to feed.’

He returned a short time later followed by Netty carrying a tray with a mug of tea and a plate laden with slices of freshly baked bread dripping with butter and jam. Caleb pulled up the chair beside him and while Danny ate, he turned the pages of the Cole’s Funny Picture Book.

‘This sure is a strange book,’ he said.

‘Uncle Richard gave it to me,’ Danny said and a strange lump caught in his throat. ‘I don’t understand … Did he want to kill me?’

Caleb cleared his throat. ‘No,’ he said.

‘But he had a gun. He …’ Danny lifted his good hand and pointed it at his head.

‘He would never have hurt you, Danny.’

‘But you said no one should ever point a gun at another person, even if it’s unloaded.’

‘That’s right. What he did was wrong, but he was scared. We were all scared.’

Danny tried to imagine Caleb being scared of anything, but the memory of that confrontation on the track had begun to take form out of the swirling smoke. Uncle Richard pointing a gun at him and Mama standing in the middle of the track, screaming something … and Caleb with his revolver.

Danny looked up at Caleb. ‘What did Mama mean when she told Uncle Richard I was his son?’

Caleb stared at him. He coughed and pushed back his chair.

‘That’s a conversation to have with your mother,’ Caleb said. ‘Adelaide?’

Danny turned his head. Mama stood in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame.

It seemed odd to see Mama wearing nothing but her nightdress, her hair in a loose braid, falling over her shoulder, in the presence of anyone, let alone Caleb. She and Caleb were looking at each other in a very strange way.

Caleb stood up. ‘I’ll leave you and you mother to have a talk,’ he said. ‘Perhaps Netty can make us some tea.’

‘You hate tea,’ Danny said.