Janice was responding to a message on her phone, and Connie felt the usual powerful urge to check hers in case her mother, Milly or Zoe needed her. But she resisted. They were all more than capable of managing by themselves for a few hours.

Instead she stared across the lake, surprised to discover that she hadn’t given them a thought when she’d been cantering along the trail. It was only now, when she was still again, that her thoughts settled back on her family and her anxieties. Her mind was a boomerang, programmed to return to family.

Why did she find it so hard to switch off? Why did she feel guilty when she took a little time for herself? They really were more than capable of managing by themselves, so why did she worry so much?

It was love, of course, but she sensed that it was more than that. Habit? She’d handled everything alone for so long it was hard to give herself permission to loosen her grip.

Did she need them to need her? Was that it?

Who was she when she wasn’t being a mother, a grandmother or a daughter?

Who was Connie?

Unsettled by the question, she glanced at Brian and saw that he was also gazing across the lake, a distant look in his eyes. She had no idea if he was contemplating the meaning of life or thinking about what he’d eaten for breakfast.

Some instinct made her want to ask if he was okay, but she suppressed it.

He’d made it more than clear that he didn’t want to chat, and she understood that.

And she was grateful for it, because she wasn’t looking for a heart-to-heart or a confession session on all the challenges they were handling in life (because did anyone get to their age without navigating something big?). Sometimes it was good to talk, but other times it was good to try and forget. To enjoy the moment. To step outside the worry or the sadness or whatever weight life was pressing onto you and throw it all off for a brief time.

But still she wondered, and when Janice asked if the two of them would like to do a full-day ride the following week, Connie found herself saying yes. And so did Brian.

Silence didn’t seem to matter when you were on a horse, particularly as they mostly rode nose to tail, which rather limited opportunities for conversation.

She could have spent the whole day riding.

It was like pressing Pause on her life, and she was surprised by how good that made her feel.

Chapter 12Milly

Milly knew there was no way she’d get any more work done after that conversation. It felt as if someone had thrown her emotions in a blender.