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Kree’s SOS. Tish’s polished, almost English-sounding voice again travelled down the landline. ‘He’ll be there in ten minutes.’ She paused. ‘I know you don’t know me but I just wanted to say how glad I was when Ewan told me your brother had been found.’
    ‘Thanks. He wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for Ewan and the Glenalla community coming to his aid. We’re both so very grateful.’
    ‘There’s no place quite like Glenalla. It might be a small town, but it’s big on community spirit.’ Despite the unfamiliar accent, Kree had no trouble hearing the pride in Tish’s words. ‘Ewan said he’s leaving now, so he should be there soon.’
    ‘Great. I didn’t know cattle could be so noisy. I’ll go and open the front gate.’

    True to Tish’s prediction, ten minutes later Ewan’s silver ute passed through the opened steel gate and stopped in front of her temporary home. As he settled his Akubra on his dark head before opening the driver’s side door, Kree gave herself a mental shake. Married.
    But as Ewan stood beside his car, his handsome face shadowed by his hat, the world around her receded. The cattle bellows quietened, the whup whup of Freckle’s tail against her shin faded and the voice urging her to stay in control subsided to a whisper. The bond she’d believed they’d forged while searching for Seth might be one-sided, but Ewan Mackenzie, married Ewan Mackenzie, affected Kree like her fiancé never had.
    ‘Having water problems, Kree?’ Ewan said with a guarded smile as he approached.
    ‘Yes. Sorry to interrupt your day.’ She fell into step beside him as they headed towards the house. ‘Murphy’s Law meant that something had to go wrong. I’d gotten Freckle and Fudge into a routine and things were going so well.’
    Ewan stopped to pick up the wriggling red-heeler pup, who’d latched onto the hem of his jeans. ‘This rascal in a routine?’ Ewan moved his thumb away from Freckle’s sharp little teeth. ‘I’d like to see that.’
    Kree touched a hand to Fudge’s head as the goat butted her knee, letting her know she felt left out. ‘Maybe the word “understanding” is more apt. The three of us have reached an understanding. I like my shoes to remain intact and they like to be pampered, fed and played with from dawn to dusk.’
    Ewan’s low chuckle teased the fine hairs on her nape.
    Off-limits. Remember.
    ‘Well, I’m glad to hear you’re getting something out of your understanding.’
    ‘I have to. I’m down to one pair of shoes.’
    As they reached the verandah steps, Ewan placed Freckle on the path and he bolted over to the remains of her once favourite hiking boot. Fudge followed, leaping and frolicking, as though her legs were composed of tiny springs.
    Ewan shook his head. ‘Good luck with saving your last pair of shoes.’
    He swung around and set off towards the small yard gate that led into the paddock housing the water trough. Kree followed. The usual faded denim hugged Ewan’s lean hips but the cotton stretching across his wide shoulders was a finely woven pale blue instead of heavy navy drill. The boots he wore sported glossy, not scuffed, leather and when he turned to check she was still behind him, she realised the tanned line of his profile was clean-shaven.
    Just out of his swag, his hair tousled and jaw stubbled, he was gorgeous, and now, dressed in his going to town clothes, he was plain out dangerous. Tish was a very lucky woman.
    ‘Okay,’ he said as they reached a large concrete tank and stopped in front of a metal contraption attached to a cream box. ‘This is the pump that draws water from the bore. And this,’ he pointed to what looked like a small spaceship sitting on top of the tank, ‘is the water indicator. When the tank is full, an internal float lifts the pole the indicator is attached to, and it rises above the tank. So when the indicator is flush with the tank, like now, there’s no water.’
    Kree concentrated on the