“Not that he’s told you.” She gave me a lopsided smile, like she felt bad about that comment and couldn’t quite hide it.
That was every damn day with Frank.
I tried to angle a look at her screen, but the glare made it impossible. Her silence was killing me. She huffed. Frowned. Kept typing.
“And?” I said.
“Only Koolaroo came up under Frank’s name.”
“Told you.” I drummed my fingers on the cyclic and stopped myself.
“He inherited Koolaroo Ranch when he was nineteen.” She tilted her head at the screen. “That was young.”
“His father died around then.”
“Huh, he must’ve been young too. What did he die of?”
I searched back through everything I’d ever been told about Frank’s father. Nothing. “No idea.”
“What about Frank’s mother? Wasn’t she in line to inherit?”
“Pfft.” I shook my head. “Go back through every generation who’s owned Koolaroo, and I doubt you’ll find a woman’s name on a single title.”
She groaned.
“Yeah. Maybe that’s why she took off.”
Sapphire’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. “Frank’s mother took off?” She looked up slowly. “Just like your mother did?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again. I sat with that for a second. “I never connected those two before. But yeah, they both left Koolaroo.” I kept my eyes forward. “Maybe neither of them liked working their asses off for land they’d never own.”
“But both of them left children behind.”
“Yep.” The word came out flat, but I didn’t trust what else might come out if I kept talking.
She turned in her seat so she could see me better. “I know your mother vanished without a trace, but what about Frank’s mother? Does anyone know where she went?”
I wanted to have the answer. I didn’t. “Sorry. No idea.”
“Hmm.” She went back to her notebook.
Nodding toward the notebook, I said, “That thing’s going to be full before we land.”
She gave me a lopsided smile. “Lucky I have another one.” She tapped her backpack and shifted back to face the screen.
I focused on the horizon and tried not to think about the fact that she was piecing together my family like a jigsaw that was all over the place. I checked our heading and adjusted slightly. I watched a wedge-tail eagle ride a thermal far below us, wings spread wide, going nowhere in particular.
“Oh.” Her voice dropped. She went very still.
“What?”
“Who’s William Branson?”
I blinked at her. “I don’t know. Why?”
“There’s a property listing here. A residential block in Winton. Registered to a William Branson. Owned since 1994.” She looked up. “Could that be Frank’s father?”
“Granddad was Jack.”
