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lived for adventure. He’d gone to the edge of life, taken risks, lived without fear. But even though he’d packed so much into life it didn’t bring comfort. Nothing did. He was gone. Lost to the ocean forever.
    Every time Isabelle remembered that day, the pain overwhelmed her, rising up from within, vacuuming the breath from her lungs.
    Mornings were always the hardest. At night came the promise of sleep and a reprieve from all the thinking. Mornings meant she woke to face another day alone. Another day of making decisions alone. Another day of preparing dinner for three, instead of four.
    Outside, laughing kookaburras greeted each other, reminding her where she was. She touched the empty place beside her and for a split second grief threatened to pull her back under. She picked up her phone. It wasn’t quite six o’clock. She had hoped to sleep until at least seven. Fletcher was still breathing heavily, but the rustling of covers indicated Mietta was waking. A mussed up blonde head of curls emerged from the sleeping bag.
    ‘Good morning, sunshine.’ It was what Dan had always said every morning and Mietta seemed to like how Isabelle kept up the simple tradition. ‘Did you sleep okay?’
    Mietta nodded, wiping away the sleep from her eyes. ‘What was that noise before?’
    ‘Kookaburras.’
    Mietta’s eyes sparkled with delight and anticipation. ‘Do you think we’ll see kangaroos and koalas if we live here?’
    ‘I’m sure we will. Come on, let’s get you showered and dressed, then you can have breakfast.’
    Isabelle left a note for Fletcher and headed out the door to the toilet block with Mietta. Her breath caught. It had been dark when they’d arrived and she hadn’t realised the caravan park was positioned at the base of an enormous mountain. After driving through endless acres of flat paddocks practically the whole way from Adelaide, the mountain came as a surprise. She’d googled Stony Creek upon hearing about the Peppercorn Project. It lay in the shadow of Mount Remarkable as part of the Southern Flinders Ranges, but Isabelle hadn’t expected the mountain to be so massive. Or so magnificent. She smiled. Mount Remarkable. An apt name.
    ‘Wow,’ Mietta exclaimed, voicing Isabelle’s thoughts. ‘Do you think we could climb to the top?’
    Isabelle laughed. ‘I doubt it, darling, but I’m sure there’s a road and probably a lookout.’
    ‘No road, but there’s a walking track,’ a voice answered.
    Isabelle spun around. She hadn’t anticipated seeing anyone else awake and was startled by how quietly the woman had snuck up on her.
    ‘G’day, love, I’m Pat Wallace. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya! You got in late last night. Thought you’d changed your minds about coming.’
    ‘Oh, good morning.’ Isabelle stuck out her hand. The older woman squeezed her fingers tightly and Isabelle felt dry skin and callouses. ‘I’m Isabelle Cassidy. And this is my daughter, Mietta.’
    Pat nodded. ‘Isabelle. Mietta. Pretty names for pretty girls. How old are you, sweetheart?’ she asked, bending over to peer at Mietta through her thick glasses.
    ‘Six,’ Mietta replied shyly, before stepping back and tucking herself behind Isabelle’s hip.
    ‘My son Fletcher is still asleep. He’s nearly thirteen.’
    ‘Nearly a teenager, eh? You must have been a child bride.’
    Mrs Wallace’s curious gaze darted to her left hand. Isabelle was glad she still wore her wedding ring.
    ‘I was eighteen when I had Fletcher. I’ll be thirty-one at the end of the year.’ Why am I telling this to a complete stranger? A thought occurred to Isabelle. It might be worth being polite to the old woman. ‘Are you on the interviewing panel?’
    ‘Nah, love. Rachel King has that sorted. I don’t care who moves into town as long as they’re good people. It’s a great place to live and raise your kids, and I don’t want anyone changing that.’
    Isabelle kept quiet, uncertain how to answer.
    ‘I heard you ask