Chapter Two - The Bloody Emu’s Spilled Secrets
Ethan Farrelly sped homeward from Lake Moondarra, his jaws set and grim. Hoping to catch Jane, he had roasted on the bank in his Billabong tee, board shorts and thongs. He needed to convince her of his reasoning behind not wanting to follow her to the University of Sydney come February. Her great uncle taught agriculture there, she said.
A degree might help him manage the family cattle station, she said. He had flat refused, and she accused him of throwing their relationship in the rubbish bin over his “stupid, bloody mudpit farm.” Adding insult to injury, Ethan’s folks had taken holiday along Queensland’s Gold Coast. Electing to stay home, Ethan gave them the same excuse he’d given Jane: he’d never had big city eyes. Hell, he’d never been s
