The chickens scratched in the morning sun. I watched them from the kitchen window and sipped from a water glass, absently wondering what would happen to this place once we'd ridden away. The summer storms would cause damage season after season, windows would break, mould would grow on the couches and the patchwork quilts. Animals would shelter inside and plant life would grow in the carpets. Eventually the plaster and wood would crumble back into the earth, and there would only be a few pieces of scattered, rusted metal to show that this place had ever existed.

Feeling bleak, I turned away from the window and stretched. As I lifted my arms overhead, Rueben wandered into the kitchen barefoot. Instinctively, I dropped my arms and pulled my tee down to cover my belly.

"Morning."

"Hi."

He rubbed his chin, his beard thickening from days without a razor. "Karla, I want to say I'm sorry if I upset you last night."

"Mmm." I gave nothing away. My feelings about Rueben were all over the place; my body reacted to him as if he emitted a magnetic pulse, but he scared me. His insight into my behaviour was unnerving, and I was already flat out trying to deal with my own neuroses.

More than anything, I worried in the dark corners of my mind that I liked him, really liked him, and maybe liked his daughter too. It made me too vulnerable; the last time I let myself fall for someone, it had almost ruined me.

So I kept my words to myself, and watched him warily.

His face creased, sadness written there, and maybe something more. A tentative longing. "I'm not going to ask if you've eaten. I just wanted to remind you that you're worthy of eating."

"I wish that was true," I murmured.

He closed the distance between us. "What would it take to convince you?"

Hunger ground like a pestle inside me, desire to be touched rather than a food craving. "What do you have in mind?"

His fingers raised and dancing down my neck, drawing goose bumps out like an Etch-a-sketch. "Rueben..."

He leaned forward and kissed the skin on my neck just below my ear, and I mewed helplessly. My hands raised and tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The heat between us was fierce, beyond reason. For a blissful moment, I forgot about my weight, the journey ahead, the drama between Bailey and Nev, my existential dread, and all that existed was the pang of lust that surged in my body, that drew me ever closer to this man as if I could absorb myself inside him.

"Daddy?" Mischa's voice rang out from the other end of the house. We froze, then peeled apart like reluctant Velcro strips.

"In here, Mish."

She bounced into the room, her hair tied up in intricate braids that had Nev's fingerprints all over them. "Simon says that he'll tow my chookie all the way to Tasmania!"

"That's great, baby," said Rueben. His voice was thick and strained, and his eyes kept flicking back to me. "Does the chookie have a name?"

"Of course. Chookie!"

"Chookie, the chookie?" I said, a giggle in my tone. "I like it."

She scampered away again, and Rueben smiled. "I don't think I've ever seen her this happy."

"She's a good kid." I refilled my massive water bottle, ready for the road. "You know, you could both stay here. There's food, water, beds, chookies. The road is dangerous, and you'd be happy here."

"I'm not going anywhere you're not," he said simply. "Besides, I can't let you lot swim to Tassie."

I couldn't hide my grin as we left the kitchen. Despite my empty belly that had speedily digested the dinner from last night, and the dizziness that constantly threatened to swallow me whole, there was a fullness to my spirit.

We packed up in the driveway, and I couldn't help but grin as I watched Simon argue with the big, black chicken while he loaded it into his trailer. Despite his big talk, no chookies had been harmed on our watch.

Bailey silently loaded their bike trailer, and I watched as Nev wandered over. I'd slept next to Bailey in the big bed last night, and Nev had taken my place on the couch. At my suggestion, she hadn't tried to talk to Bailey, but now she spoke, awkward and hesitant. "Bee... Please talk to me."

Bailey didn't answer, clipping on their helmet and throwing their leg over the bike.

"Bailey, please? I'm sorry, okay? But you can't just shut me out!"

Oh yes, they could. I knew Bailey well enough; they were more than capable of ignoring the people who hurt them. It was how they'd survived after the rejection from their entire family.

Bailey called out to everyone else. "Come on, people. Let's go."

We pushed off, leaving the safety of the farmhouse behind. In comparison, the road loomed menacing and unending before us.

Our rhythm was steady: ride for a few hours, stop and snack, ride again, stop for lunch, ride again, snack, more riding. Except for me. I didn't snack or lunch. The dizziness and fatigue were part of me now, an endless ache that ebbed and flowed but never dissipated.

"We'll make Albury/Wodonga today," said Simon, studying the maps at lunch. "We're well over halfway to Melbourne now."

"Al-bry-woo-don-ga?" asked Mischa. "That's a weird name."

"It's two names," I explained. "It's a border town, so one side is in Victoria, and the other side is New South Wales."

"Are we camping in town?" asked Nev.

"Maybe. There should be a few hotels here – maybe they're still running so we won't have to camp out tonight." Rueben's eyes caught mine, and instantly I knew we were thinking about the same thing: white hotel sheets and sound-proof rooms.

The road to Albury sloped downwards in an easy, smooth arc. Maybe that's why I fell; because I was relaxed and rolling rather than straining in concentration. All I know is that one minute I was cruising along, dreaming of my newly slimmed thighs and Rueben's mouth on mine, then a wave of dizziness sucked me up out of my body, like a UFO abducting a cow. My fingers slipped on the handle bars, and I had no control as my bike wobbled beneath me. All of my muscles refused to respond, bereft of energy, and I had plenty of time to watch the ground rush towards me and strike me in the face. Then, blissful blackness.

It's dark, because he says he likes it better that way. He doesn't have to see me, see my flaws. His thrusts are hard, rough, and I try to make noises like I'm enjoying this. Because if I don't enjoy it, that's my fault. I know that.

And I do enjoy it, in a fashion. I enjoy being close to him, sharing this with him, bringing him pleasure. I don't need an orgasm. I just need him.

He finishes, rolls off. I drop an arm over him, rubbing his chest.

"You came, right?"

I nod. I know how to answer this.

"Good. Every girl I've ever been with always comes during sex. It's weird when you don't."

My face nestles into his armpit, breathing his scent. I know I'm weird. When all the other girls can instantly orgasm, I need time and work. I don't want him to feel bad, so I make the right sounds and always say I came. "Do you want me to take care of the condom?"

"I didn't use one."

"What?" I've told him I'm not on the pill, how the medication doesn't agree with me.

"You know I hate how they feel." He slaps my backside lightly. "It'll be fine, don't worry. See, this is your problem – you can't relax in bed."

Panic rises, but I don't want to upset him. So I hug him closer and try to stop worrying. What's the worst that could happen?

"Karla? Karla, can you hear me? Karla, squeeze my hand."

"Ugh..." My face was aflame; the skin on my nose and chin sent signals to my pain centres that things were seriously messed up and my skull throbbed from a singular point on my temple. A metallic tang hit my tongue, and I swallowed, gagging on blood.

My eyes creaked open, Nev and Rueben's alarmed faces swimming into focus. Rueben said, "Don't try to move just yet, okay?"

I tried to move, then cried out as a bolt of agony flared from my jaw to my tailbone. "Ow! That'th really thore..."

I'm lisping. Like a satellite delay, my brain caught up with the sibilant sounds coming from my mouth. Experimentally, I pressed my tongue forward in my mouth until it found my front teeth.

Not front teeth – front tooth. One tooth was normal, smooth, whole. The other tooth was snapped in a jagged diagonal line that cut the skin on my tongue as it connected. "Oh god! My tooth!"

"I have your tooth," said Rueben calmly. "But I'm more concerned about your concussion. Stay still."

Rueben's hands probed my face and skull. At some stage I'd begun to shiver, even with the warmth of the concrete against my back and the sun hard on my face. Tears dripped from my eyes, and they sizzled as they slid from my face to the ground. "I can't believe I thmashed my tooth."

"We can get your tooth fixed. Watch my finger." He drew his hand back and forth in front of my eyes, and I watched it, confused that only a few hours before I'd been dreaming about those fingers on me and in me, and now they were gauging me medically which was way less sexy.

"Her pupils are fine, and the bump isn't too large. I mean, in a perfect world she should get a head scan, but I think she'll be okay. Has anyone got electrolytes?"

"Here." Bailey stepped into my line of sight, shaking a packet of crystals into a water bottle.

Rueben helped me into a seated position, then gently tipped the salty sweet water against my lips. I guzzled it like nectar.

"You need to eat, but it will have to wait until we fix your tooth. The longer we wait, the harder it is to fix, but you need to rest, so tomorrow morning-"

I interrupted him with a squeak of fear. "I don't want to wait. I want to fix thith."

"Karla, I'm not an ER doctor. I can't tell you if your concussion is mild or worse, but either way, you should rest."

"No! Pleath." My teeth had been the one part of my body I didn't have a problem with. I couldn't face the rest of my life with a hill-billy gap. "Help me. Pleath." My stupidity had caused this. Shame pulsed more painfully than the graze on my face or the nerves of my cracked tooth. Once again, I'd screwed everything up.

Reluctantly, Rueben said, "Can you ride? It's only about ten minutes to Albury. There should be a dentist there."

"There is," interjected Simon. "Saw it on the map at lunch. Place on the way into town."

"Okay. Let's see if they can check your tooth and your head."

Nodding, I tried to rise but fell back against the concrete. Nev and Bailey rushed forward and hooked me beneath the armpits, helping me to stand. "Youse guys, we need to ride on either side of her in case she falls again," said Nev, supporting me over to my toppled bike.

Rueben rubbed my back, his intense eyes searching mine. "You should be resting."

"You theem to love telling me what I should be doing," I said, trying to lighten the moment. My face was buggered, my pride as smashed as my tooth, but with his hand on my shoulder, I wanted to be strong and unflustered.

"Tell me if you feel dizzy again."

Carefully, we saddled up and rode on. Mischa pedalled over, inspecting me carefully. "You look like a vampire," she decided.

"Thankth."

"It's okay. Vampires are cool."

"Hith," I said, pretending to hiss and making her giggle.

Albury rose over the next hill, a small city divided by the Murray River that snaked along the border line between the two states. A few houses swished past us in the rural area, then a few more, then suddenly, suburbs.

In my dazed state, I vaguely noticed the passing homes, boarded up and locked down. Signs spray-painted on garage doors made statements like, Weapons inside – trespassers will be shot, and Mum, if you read this, we're at Mark's place. It was like riding into a Western film set, where every door was barred against outlaws and eyes watched the newcomers keenly through shutters.

"There," said Bailey, pointing towards a residential home with a tooth-shaped sign on the front lawn. The front windows were smashed out, and glass twinkled in jagged shards, catching the afternoon light.

We rode up to the reception doors, dumping the bikes and climbing the steps. My knees buckled, and Rueben looped an arm around my waist. "I've got you," he whispered softly, helping me to navigate the steps.

No drugs. No sharps. No dentist. The sign was written in black sharpie on a carboard box taped to the doors. "Thou doth protest too much," rumbled Simon, ripping the carboard off and reaching his hand through the broken pane and unlocking the door.

Rueben said, "Even if there's no dentist, maybe we can still find something to help."

We entered the building, Nev calling out loudly, "Hello? Anyone here? We have a broken tooth, can anyone help us?"

The small reception area was silent, papers scattered on the floor. "Through there," said Rueben, helping me to step over the detritus and into the next room.

The dentist chair lay silently, awaiting victims who would possibly never come again. Every shelf and cupboard looked ransacked. "What are we looking for?" asked Bailey, staring around at the mess.

"I... Some kind of tooth glue, maybe? I don't know." Rueben helped me sit on a cushy office chair and shrugged at Bailey.

"You're a doctor!"

"I'm a head doctor – not a tooth doctor. We need the dentist."

"Then let's find one," said Simon, charging for a door marked private. He slammed it open, and we saw a small loungeroom on the other side. From deeper in the house, someone whimpered.

Nev darted through. "Hello? Please, if you can help us, our friend is hurt."

"Mischa, stay here." Rueben walked off after Nev, Simon and Bailey close behind.

The little girl plopped down amiably next to me, Bella in her arms. "Do you like my dad?" she asked, apropos of nothing.

"What?" I shot forward in my seat. "What do you mean?"

"My dad doesn't really have friends. But he likes you and Simon and Bailey and Nev. Do you like him?"

"Oh. Yeth, honey. We like your dad a whole bunch."

"Do... do you like me?"

Her little voice clutched at my heart. "Yes, thweetie."

"Can I have a hug?"

Broken and starving and weary, I nodded, tears barely holding themselves back. "Come here, Mish."

In the empty dental clinic, we hugged. There was a shadow of my lost baby somewhere nearby, hovering like wind on water, but this child was here and real and she needed me. Holding her tightly, I let myself fall into the simple waters of a child's affection.

Yelling disturbed our embrace: Nev, Simon, another voice pleading. "What'th going on in there?" I called out, attempting to keep my voice brave for Mischa's sake.

Nev dashed back in. "We found the dentist!"

Simon herded a slender, Asian man into the room; he was clearly terrified, his eyes tightly closed and his hands in a defensive position. "Please! Please! Don't hurt me!"

"For the tenth time," said Bailey, rolling their eyes, "we're not going to hurt you. Our friend has broken her tooth – can you fix it?"

He started weeping. "Don't hurt me! I don't have any more drugs! All the needles are gone!"

"He refused to come out of his walk-in robe," said Simon. "We had to give him a bit of motivation."

"You guyth, he'th thcared shitleth!" I pushed Simon backward and gestured to Nev to step away. "Listen, you're okay, it'th all okay."

The skinny doctor continued to rock, hugging himself with his eyes squeezed shut, murmuring, "Don't hurt me. Nothing here," on repeat.

Flummoxed, I turned to the one person in the room qualified to deal with trauma. "Rueben, can you talk to him?"

Rueben nodded, his strong face softening. He approached the dentist slowly, hands open wide. "Hey, what's your name?"

"My- my name?"

"Yes."

His large eyes popped open and locked on Rueben, fear mellowing to caution. "I am Doctor Nguyen."

"I'm Doctor Burke. I'm a psychologist from Sydney. That's my daughter over there, and these are my friends." He pointed at me. "My friend, Karla, has broken a tooth. And she has the world's most beautiful smile, so I'm really hoping you can help her out."

For the first time, the dentist looked at me. I bared my teeth and showed him the cracked gap. His wariness turned to confusion. "You don't want to hurt me?"

"No, Doctor."

"You don't want drugs?"

"Well, I wouldn't say no to some oxy," said Bailey.

"No, we're not," said Rueben with a pointed look in their direction.

The dentist straightened up. He shuffled towards me, intelligent eyes on my mouth. He indicated for me to open, and I stretched my jaw wide. His cool hands held my chin and he peered intently at the break before saying, "I can fix this. It just needs bonding."

"What'th that?" I asked.

"Tooth-coloured composite resin. It will look like your tooth. Doesn't take long."

And instantly, he was all business, as if we'd restored him to who he was before looters and vandals had invaded his clinical world. He booted out everyone except for Rueben, who stayed and held my hand. In only a few minutes, the dentist cleaned my tooth, filed it, and moulded the white resin into the same shape as my other front tooth.

"Wow." I admired his work in the small mirror. "It looks as good as new. Better, actually. No coffee stains."

"No biting into whole apples," he warned, wiping his hands. "But it should last a very long time."

"Thank you, Doctor." I smiled at him, running my tongue over my newly restored incisor. "Can we give you something to say thank you?"

He smiled shyly. "No. It's okay."

"We have vodka – would that be useful for disinfecting things? Or just for drinking?"

He paused, then nodded. "Okay."

In the reception area, Simon dug out one of the better bottles from his stash. "What happened here, Doc?" he asked as he handed it over.

"It was okay for a few days. Then, not so okay." The slender man shuddered, recalling. "A woman came with her son. She said he needed help, but when my back was turned, they knocked me down and stole all the painkillers. Another man came the next night, he had a gun, told me to give him needles. I did. More people came, and I had nothing to give, so they got angry. Now, I hide."

"Mate... Do you want to come with us?" Simon's bushy eyebrow shot up. "We're headed to Tassie. You're welcome to join."

The dentist shook his head. "No. My wife. She was in Melbourne when it happened. I have to stay here so she can find me. One day, she will come back. Then we will leave."

"Okay."

We thanked him – Nev hugged him – and helped him board up his front door again. He pressed a few codeine tablets into my hands, and said, "It's all I have left."

"Thank you." My tooth actually felt alright, but the lump on my skull was beginning to throb, and my shoulder ached from where it had smashed into the asphalt.