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Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Tricia Stringer
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Chapter 15
  21. Chapter 16
  22. Chapter 17
  23. Chapter 18
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. Chapter 29
  35. Chapter 30
  36. Chapter 31
  37. Chapter 32
  38. Chapter 33
  39. Chapter 34
  40. Chapter 35
  41. Chapter 36
  42. Chapter 37
  43. Chapter 38
  44. Chapter 39
  45. Chapter 40
  46. Chapter 41
  47. Chapter 42
  48. Chapter 43
  49. Chapter 44
  50. Chapter 45
  51. Chapter 46
  52. Acknowledgements

“Leave such a prescriptive will? Your father or his father or his father? You could blame them all,” she snapped. “Your great-grandfather was of the generation that believed only men could run farms and it’s been perpetuated.”

“But why would he leave a will that opens the possibility of ruining his only son’s chance of keeping the family farm?” Dan slapped a hand to his chest. He didn’t know whether the pain he felt was anger or sadness. “Why would he do that to me?”

“He always felt he owed Freddy.”

“Why?”

“Your father took out a loan not long before your mother died. The farm was doing okay but in need of new machinery and sheds. Then in the early nineties there was a recession.” Rowena snorted. “‘The recession we had to have’ it was called. Anyway, interest rates went through the roof and Freddy loaned your father some money. It was a terrible time. We would have lost the farm without Freddy’s help. It wasn’t a huge amount of money by today’s standards and your father paid him back of course, but Daniel always felt he owed Freddy.”

Dan shook his head. “But if the debt was repaid that surely wouldn’t jeopardise his own son inheriting.”

“Your father made that will when your mother died. You were only three. I guess he thought if something happened to you there might be another Woodcroft male somewhere else. And there was always the possibility I would marry and have children. If that had happened my grandson could have inherited or at least made a claim. As the only surviving executor that would have put me in a difficult position.”

Dan watched her scrape a wisp of hair away from her cheek. She used to be as blonde as he was but these days the blonde was fading and streaked with grey. He’d never given much thought to what she may have sacrificed all those years ago, to look after her brother and his child. She was right though. If she’d had a son who’d had a son older than Dan’s baby, the farm could have gone to that branch of the family. He shook his head. It surely didn’t need to be this complicated. Even the British royals had worked out a much simpler succession plan.