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ya mum about Mount Remarkable,’ Mrs Wallace said, looking at Mietta again. ‘The road takes you as far as the war memorial. From there you’ll have to walk. It’s about six K to the top but when you get there you’ll see the best views of the whole district. You’ll see plenty of euros, and the odd emu or two, if you’re lucky. And be sure to watch out for snakes.’
    ‘Euros?’ Isabelle asked.
    ‘Wallaroos,’ Mrs Wallace replied. ‘We don’t get many kangaroos around here unless it’s really dry up north.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘Best mountain bike course in South Australia up yonder too,’ Mrs Wallace continued, pointing in the general direction of the mountain. ‘Is your son into bikes?’
    Isabelle stopped herself from shaking her head. If it meant they would win one of the coveted positions, she would happily lie and tell everyone Fletcher was keen to try mountain biking. Fletcher hadn’t ridden a bike since grade one, but they didn’t need to know that.
    Mietta fidgeted.
    ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs Wallace, but Mietta needs to get to the toilet.’
    ‘No worries, love. And it’s Pat. Mrs Wallace is my mother-in-law. See ya later. And good luck to you and your husband.’

Chapter 4
    Matt stretched out in his king size bed and stared at the ceiling. It had been close to midnight before he finally crashed, and although he was bone tired, it took ages to fall asleep. Now, his first waking thought was of the new family. Who were they? Had they slept as badly as he had? He rubbed his temples. The headache, which had pulsated nonstop since leaving the pub the night before, was still there.
    He couldn’t get the image of them out of his head. The young woman he’d seen the night before had mesmerised him. With her light brown hair falling in loose waves round her shoulders, vivid blue eyes and a summer tan, she’d reminded him of sunshine. He also couldn’t forget the blonde, pixie-like child in the backseat – a miniature version of her mother, or the older boy with the troubled expression who sat beside her.
    What was their story? He wanted to know, needed to know! He mentally kicked himself for being such a fool. He should have accepted Rachel’s invitation to sit on the selection committee, then he would have seen her application and known exactly who she was and why she wanted – needed – to move to Stony Creek.
    He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, telling himself to forget her. The last thing he needed was another woman to get under his skin. With any luck, they wouldn’t be the type of family the committee was looking to help.
    But as he pulled on his boots, he had an inkling his fantasies that day would be filled with images of sunshine and summer. And a beautiful young woman. A young woman without a name.
    *
    An hour later Matt strode up the main street as the sun was breaking through the clouds, making its first appearance for the day. He desperately needed coffee. He had dressed in his khaki uniform, despite still being off duty. He figured it would make a good first impression on the contestants if they saw Stony Creek took law and order seriously.
    ‘Good morning, Constable,’ Dorothy Wettenhall called out from her front porch.
    Matt bit his tongue. She always called him that, and he hated it. Folk like Dorothy thought he was too young to be a sergeant, only one rank below Geoff Monahan, his boss.
    Dorothy sat at a black wrought-iron table, newspaper casually positioned in front of her. Matt had never seen the table and chair setting before – she’d obviously moved it from her backyard to the front to keep an eye on proceedings. What a busybody! Then he guiltily remembered that’s what he and the old blokes at the pub had been doing the day before.
    ‘Good morning, Mrs Wettenhall. Lovely day for it.’ Matt lifted his fingers to the tip of his broad-brimmed hat and nodded in her direction. Her frown puckered an already over-creased forehead. She hadn’t heard a