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Below that, though, had been a treasure trove of words.

Your Reid.

She liked that one.

It had been followed by:

What if she doesn’t reply? How long should I give her before I call? I should say, ‘I’ll call in a couple of days’. Or, no, too needy. I should ask her to call if she needs more information—write that down. ‘Call if you need more information.’ Or, no. Just my signature will do. Just Reid.

Dammit, Judah, why are you grinning? What do you mean, how can I tell? You have a mouthful of teeth as big as a corn cob and whiter than the moon. I can see them! Yes, I will practise my poetry before I see her next, you tool. Just help me write the goddamn letter.

Respectfully Reid?

What do you mean too many Rs? I always sign my letters ‘Respectfully’.

Who in the world uses the word ‘felicitations’?

You call this helping?

Just finish it and press send!

Your Reid.

Felicitations, Judah.

Ari had read that spiel at the end a hundred times over and it still made her grin like a woman with a corncob mouth. It gave her the confidence to wait a day and fully digest the information in those attachments before replying.

Dear Reid,

This explains a lot, although not quite everything. Your brother is awesome, btw. Would you like to meet to discuss mutual future prospects? I’m crazy busy prepping for my next job at Black Ridge, but I’m free on Saturday.

Your Ari

When an email reply came through for her with an invitation to meet him at Jeddah Creek station homestead at four p.m. and prepare to stay for dinner and that she was welcome to use Gert’s old room if she’d like to stay the night, Ari agreed to everything. He was obviously back at his brother’s place for a while and there were more than enough rooms for them to speak privately.

She definitely wanted another look at that bonkers family library.

Saturday morning brought a phone message from Bridie, saying she was sending a helicopter for Ari to save her the bother of driving.

Ari had been back at Gert’s by then, dropping Jack off, before getting back on the road.

She didn’t say no.

When Ari saw that the field next to the homestead was full of light aircraft, luxury jets, and Outback vehicles and tents of every kind, she turned to her taciturn young bush pilot. ‘What’s going on down there?’

‘It’s for the ball.’

‘Ball?’

‘Spring Fling charity ball for rural health services? Ring any bells?’

Not one bell was being rung. ‘And it’s on...tonight?’

‘Starts at six p.m.’

‘Oh.’ Bridie had neglected to mention it. Last time a ball had taken place here, Ari had been staff. ‘Fancy that.’

It was hot, dry and dusty in the aircraft parking lot. People were bringing out the sisal mats and fairy lights and setting up their luxury and not so luxurious camping spots. Piper was sitting on the steps, a little grey cat lounging regally beside her. The girl jumped up and waved to her enthusiastically. ‘Mum, she’s here!’