The rain persisted and he whiled away the morning in the stable, getting to know Shadow and polishing the second-hand tack he had bought. Amos Burrell arrived just before lunch with the Maiden’s Creek coach. The man and his two sturdy horses were soaked to the bone and mired in mud. After Amos saw to his horses, he joined Caleb on the front verandah to eat his lunch. The two men sat in companionable silence watching the steady rain dripping off the roof.

‘Heading back today?’ Caleb asked at last.

‘The road through to Maiden’s Creek is bloody impossible,’ Amos said. ‘By rights I should stay here until it’s safe to go on.’ He lowered his voice and jerked his head at the front parlour window. ‘But ’im inside is insistent I carry ’em today.’

‘Who is he?’

‘Murray, chief clerk at the Bank of Victoria. Thinks he’s Mr ’igh and Mighty.’ Amos blew out a breath. ‘I’ll take ’em on but I don’t think we’ll get beyond the Thompson River guesthouse today, despite what ’is nibs in there would like.’

Caleb took a sip of the tea Mrs Gulliver provided. It tasted like hot dishwater.

‘It’s none of my business,’ Amos said with his mouth full, ‘but whatever’s going on between you and Missus Greaves. She thinks you’re gone for good and she’s been like a parson with a long face since you left.’

When Caleb didn’t answer, Amos shrugged. ‘Like I said, none of my business, but it’s worrying Netty and what worries Netty worries me.’

Caleb looked at the black leaves swirling in the bottom of his mug, wondering what they foretold. ‘It’s nothing. I just had to see Geordie to Sale. That’s it.’

‘So you’re coming back?’

‘Of course I’m coming back,’ Caleb snapped. Eventually … maybe …

The two men lapsed into silence.

The rain eased in the early afternoon and Amos judged it time to make a move. The Murray family came out onto the verandah to wait while Amos brought the coach around.

Caleb glanced at Mrs Murray. The rain had brought cool weather and she huddled, shivering, in a heavy cloak, the hood pulled up over her head, leaving the maid to deal with the irritable child.

As Amos stowed the family’s baggage, Caleb stepped forward to help the woman into the coach. The hand she held out to him burned, the skin dry, and when she turned her face to thank him, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. His doctor’s eye saw something else: a rash around her mouth, spreading out across her face.

‘You’re not well, Mrs Murray,’ he said. ‘I suggest you see Dr Bowen as soon as you get into town.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said in a wavering voice. ‘It is just something I ate. I will be glad to be home in my own bed.’