“The poor rock. Was it hurt? We should have checked.” Connie made a joke of it. “Not the horse’s fault. The dog ran out from the bracken and made me jump too. And I’m sure I’ll ache from head to toe tomorrow, but nothing that won’t mend by itself. If you can put up with looking at my bruised lip and my messy hair, then we’re fine.”

“You’re a stubborn woman, Connie.”

“I think you mean I’m independent.” She wasn’t the sort who needed care and sympathy. She looked after herself, and she preferred it that way.

“Call it what you like, but everyone needs a little help now and then.” His gaze was fixed on her face, which she was sure looked as bad as it felt. “Can I at least persuade you to call your daughter?”

“Milly? Goodness no. I don’t want to bother her with this. But talking of daughters, tell me about Annie. Any news?” She poured herself a glass of ice water from the fridge. Her head was throbbing too badly to even think about wine. She felt a little sick, but presumably that was the shock of it all. “You must be so worried, you poor thing.”

“I spoke to her first thing this morning. She’s recovering from the surgery, and they’re saying that she should be discharged in the next couple of days.”

“That’s good.”

“I wish I wasn’t so far away, that’s all. I can’t exactly pop over to Australia. It’s not easy when your children decide to settle in faraway places.”

“Particularly when that child is your only one.” She felt relieved that Milly had never expressed any desire to live anywhere but the Lakes and that she’d been as enthusiastic to work in the family business as Connie had been to have her there. Not that she would have stood in her way if Milly had chosen to move somewhere distant. She believed strongly that people should live the life that felt right for them. “I admire you for being so encouraging and endlessly supportive of her, particularly when you were dealing with your own loss. You have great courage.”