CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Manchester stood on the balcony staring towards the horizon, the blood-red sun ribboned through with dark, purple clouds. He did not flinch as Eva came up and stood beside him. “It’s beautiful,” she said.”
“There’s a storm brewing. Hopefully, it won’t come this way, but it may already have hit the town. But there’s something else too…” He gestured towards the nearest paddock, the way the horses appeared jittery, almost as if they were expecting something. But not the storm.
“Shouldn’t we put them in a barn, keep them dry?”
Manchester shook his head. “Nah. Besides, we ain’t got the hands to do that. Half the men have gone to the mine with Mr Henry, the others are way over at the far end, repairing fences and …” He shivered and leaned across the balustrade, the tendons
