Chapter 7
Sarah waved from Mrs Murphy’s verandah as Matt pulled up. Her footprints tracked green across the frosty grass. ‘Hop in,’ he said. The old jeep’s rear seat was cluttered with traps and tools, maps, empty crisp packets and cans of coke. The front seat wasn’t much better. Matt turfed a pile of stuff into the back. Sarah slipped gingerly into the seat beside him, her small daypack perched on slim knees, goose-bumped from cold.
Matt looked bemused. Shorts, for a day on the range in a highland spring? ‘We have a few hours’ drive ahead of us,’ he said, ‘so get comfy.’
Sarah reached behind her back and extracted a spanner.
‘Thanks.’ Matt pitched it over the back seat. ‘I was looking for that.’
Taking Sarah on a tour of Binburra’s trapping sites had been Penny’s idea. ‘She’s doing s
