“The bedroom door opened a crack and Bree poked her head through. Christina was indeed awake, the motorbike revs and morning machinery growling outside the window had seen to that. She was comfortably curled on her side with a pillow between her knees, deciphering patterns in the wallpaper, planning. Most of her best ideas came like this, in the five minutes of peace before getting up for the day. Now she sat, folding the quilt back on itself. “Sure. Come in.” “Here’s some more hand‐me‐downs.” B...ree stepped into the room. “And I’ve told both those boys if one of them dares say a t’ing about your clothes, I’ll tear him apart.” She perched the clothes in a tower on the foot of the bed and asked: “Did you sleep well?” “I woke up dreaming I was back at the vineyard. Our neighbours had twin girls and their older brother was into quad bikes. Every weekend he’d thrash it around the paddock. It spooked my horse.” “You had a horse? I thought you said—” dimples flashed in Bree’s cheeks and she stabbed a finger at Christina’s chest.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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