Page 39 of The Me I Left Behind

“Hmpht.” Poppy turned back to the refrigerator and opened the door. “Haven’t seen that girl in no telling how long. She still over at Min Min Station?”

Lilly shook her head. “No. She and her husband run a cattle station not far out-of-town now, about a hundred kilometers. Big operation, though. She’s in town on business.”

“Ah. Say hello for me.”

“Will do, Poppy.

“I can make dinner tonight for you and the Mister.”

“Oh, no need.”You’re the nanny, not the housekeeper and cook, Poppy.She really should have a talk with her about doing too much. If she was going to cook and clean, in addition to caring for Leo, she needed to pay her more. The plump nanny was always thinking about food—but she knew there was a reason for that. “Mr. Oliver is in the states for a bit, so it’s just me. I’ll grab a salad or something on my way home.”

Poppy eyed her again, up and down. “Oh? I thought he was going end of the month.”

Lilly nodded. “Yes. Well, plans changed. Just a quick trip.”

Again, Poppy gave her the once over, her gaze probing. Lilly knew what she was thinking.Quick trip? How do you take a quick trip to the states?Finally, Lilly glanced away.

“I’ll leave a scone for you. For dessert,” Poppy said.

“That would be lovely. Thanks.” No use arguing. She glanced at the time. “I really have to go.”

“Then shoo!” Poppy waved her arms. “I’m good here.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

“Well,if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes.”

Lilly looked up from her menu to see her childhood friend, Freya O’Brien, standing on the other side of the table, smiling widely. Instantly, she jumped up and tugged her friend into a giggly, girlie bear hug.

“You look so… Brisbane!” Freya exclaimed. “Relaxed and laid back.”

Lilly laughed, putting Freya at arm’s length. “Then you don’t know my life. And you look as lovely as ever. I can’t believe it’s been two years.”

It was true. Freya had kept that youthful look she’d always had—fresh-faced and freckled—which had always served her well, and even more so now that they were in their twenties. Lilly guessed all that sunshine and physical work were good for her.

They settled into their seats at the small table. “Well, work on the station never stops, and it’s difficult to get away sometimes.” Grinning, Freya reached for her hand across the table. “But I had some business in the city, so here I am. And here you are!”

“Yes!” Lilly squeezed her hand. “I hope you like the food here. This café is one of my favorites. I come here often.”

Freya glanced about. “Sort of fancy for this bush girl, but I’m good at adapting.”

Lilly laughed. “True. We both became experts in that at boarding school.”

Her words sparked a flash of memory, the two of them as children playing in front of the sheep shearers’ quarters at Min Min Station near Boulia where they grew up. They were very young then, and their families were poor as dirt. Her memory had them drawing lines in the dry sandy earth, playing hopscotch, a few years before their parents sent them off to boarding school. Those were happy times back then. Both their fathers were farmhands working at the station, shearing sheep, mustering cattle, and whatever else needed to be done. But after she’d gone to boarding school, she never saw her father again.

To this day, she could see his face as he waved from below, the bus carrying her and Freya away.

She’d learned later that he’d gone to prison and died there.

Her mother wouldn’t talk about it.

“What are you thinking about?”

Lilly blinked and looked at her friend. Before speaking, she let go of a sigh. She guessed seeing Freya had stirred up the past. “The day we headed out to boarding school.”

“Ah.” Freya still held her hand and wove her fingers tighter around Lilly’s. “That was a long time ago.”

“I never really knew why we had to go.”