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and I’m not prepared to say that out loud.

      “Wouldn’t be surprised if it changes the boys, too,” Callan answered.

      He flipped a couple of lamb chops with a pair of tarnished tongs, drained the last of the beer and looked at her with those steady blue eyes, and she suspected … decided … hoped … that “the boys” was code, also.

       Chapter Six

      “Dad?” Through a fog of steam, the bathroom door clicked shut behind the new arrival.

      “What’s up, Lockie?”

      “Can I talk to you for a sec?” The tone was reluctant, yet confiding.

      “Can’t it wait until I’m done in the shower?” Callan had been caught this way by Lockie before.

      His evening shower was one of the few intervals in his day that was both relaxing and private, and maybe that was why Lockie came looking for him here. He knew the two of them wouldn’t be disturbed by Josh or Gran or the dogs or, tonight, Carly or her mother.

      The shower ran on bore water from deep in the ground, which meant it was as hard as nails but hot and steamy and in plentiful supply. Conserving water was deeply bred into anyone who lived beyond Australia’s coastal fringe, but four minutes of steamy peace per day was, surely, not too much to ask.

      Apparently, yes.

      “Well, you see, the thing is …” Lockie trailed off. The reluctance had increased.

      Callan sighed and surrendered his peace, realizing he wasn’t dealing with a mere request for homework intervention or a new computer game, here. “Go ahead, spit it out.”

      “You know when we were at the water hole today?”

      “I have a faint memory of something like that, yes, even though it’s been a whole four hours since we left the place.”

      Out it came in a sudden rush. “I left my Game Boy behind on a rock.”

      “You what?” Callan shut off the water and reached around the edge of the shower curtain for his towel. “You brought your Game Boy down there? Why?”

      “In case I got bored.”

      “But you didn’t get bored. I didn’t even see you with it.”

      “I got it out after we stopped yabbying, but then we had lunch and I forgot about it and I left it and I only remembered it now.”

      “Right.”

      “Sorry, Dad.”

      “What do you think we should do about it?” He wrapped the towel around his waist and slid the shower curtain aside, confronting his son.

      He was strict about this kind of thing, and Lockie knew it. The boys were good, usually. Callan had trained them that way. They always left a gate the way they found it. They did a job, then put their tools away. They didn’t leave feed bags open to attract vermin, or riding gear lying around to get its leather cracked in the sun.

      “I think I should go back first thing in the morning and get it,” Lockie said. “Like, very, very first thing.”

      “I think you’re right,” Callan said. “And I think you know I’m not happy about this. How long did you have to save up your pocket money to buy that thing? A year?”

      “I’m not happy about it, either.”

      It was almost fully dark out, now, and they were just about to eat. Mum had cooked something special, the way she often did on a Saturday or Sunday. Smelled like lasagna and garlic bread, and the kids had already discovered and reported that there would be hot peach cake and ice cream for dessert.

      Callan was hungry. He’d been up since five-thirty this morning. He didn’t want to have to stir from the house again tonight.

      “Is it going to be safe on a rock all night?” Lockie asked him.

      “Yeah, that’s what I’m wondering. What do you think?”

      “If dew gets in it, or a ’roo knocks it off, or a cow steps on it, it could get destroyed.”

      “All those things are possible.”

      “So maybe I should go now,” Lockie said.

      “No, Lockie.” Callan sighed. He wasn’t going to send a ten-year-old out alone on horseback or a quad bike after dark, on the tail of a long day. “We’ll eat, and then I’ll go.”

      “I can come with you.”

      “Nope.” Lockie looked yawning and droopy-eyed already. He’d helped with the horses, done various yard chores. He didn’t need to come. “You can watch some TV, then read in bed for a bit and go to sleep.”

      “I can pay you my pocket money for the next couple of months, like, for your time.”

      Callan laughed. “No, you can just not do it ever again.”

      “Thanks, Dad.”

      He told Mum about the problem as he helped her serve out the meal, which was indeed lasagna, and he felt hungry enough to eat a whole trayful.

      “Take Jacinda with you,” she said at once. “You won’t ride, will you? You’ll take the four-wheel-drive?”

      “Seems best. Although it’s rough, getting to that spot in a vehicle, especially in the dark.”

      “You can walk the last few hundred meters. But you must take Jacinda. Two pairs of eyes. Even if Lockie thinks he can describe to you exactly which rock it’s on.”

      Which Lockie couldn’t.

      “If Jacinda wants to come,” Callan said.

      “Of course I’ll come,” Jac told him.

      They’d just eaten Kerry’s fabulous meal, all appetites sharp after the day spent outdoors. She felt deliciously sated, and she felt exhausted. It was very tempting to pick up on the various outs he’d offered her and let him go alone. If she was too tired, if she didn’t think Carly would settle to sleep without her, if a rough ride in a four-wheel-drive held no appeal …

      But she’d vowed earlier in the week to jump at any chance to help around here. Searching a creek bed with a flashlight in the dark was definitely something she could do.

      “So Gran will put me to bed?” Carly wanted to know.

      “That’s right, ducks,” Kerry said cheerfully.

      “Yes,” Jac agreed, wondering how many new nicknames her daughter would have at the end of four weeks. She already answered quite happily to Carlz and ducks. “And I’ll creep in and kiss you as soon as I get back, beautiful.”

      “Kiss me now, too.”

      “Of course.”

      A few minutes later, Jac had a not-very-suitable pink angora sweater over her T-shirt, and two flashlights in her lap, and she was seated next to Callan in the four-wheel-drive, ready to leave.

      He hadn’t exaggerated about the rough ride. “Problem is,” he half yelled above the engine noise, as they bounced and lurched along, “there’s a track, but you tend to lose it in the dark.”

      “Because it’s not much of a track, if it’s what we rode along today.”

      “You have a point.”

      “Ow! And I’m going to have some bruises!” Her shoulder bumped the door.

      “Sorry, I should have insisted that this would be way too much fun for you in one day.”

      “After the fun of the bunyip jumping?”

      “But you did like the horse riding and the barbecue, right?”

      “I liked

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