“Thank the Lord that’s one complication that didn’t happen.” Rowena tugged sharply at her shirt. “Daniel was always fond of Freddy and Beryl, even though they barely communicated towards the end of his life. They did help him recuperate after your mother died. You were a little boy then and even though I’m sure he didn’t expect to die while you were so young I suppose he thought that, if something happened to you or you didn’t want to farm, then someone on the other side of the family could carry on the name. Problem was as you got older and showed obvious signs of being a farmer, he didn’t ever change the damn will. It was all written out so long ago and he never updated it. As co-executor Freddy would have had a copy. I assume Beryl would know all about the contents.”

“Do you think that’s why Jacinta didn’t take her husband’s name – so that her child would be a Woodcroft?”

“Who would know? I am sure Beryl has coached Jacinta well. But regardless of surname, a male child from Jacinta who’s older than any of your offspring is still a threat. Even if Paula has a son, he will be younger than Jacinta’s. And Beryl has made it clear Jacinta plans to make some kind of claim.”

Dan rubbed at the back of his neck. The knots across his shoulders tightened as soon as he thought about the damned will. “It’s all circle talk until we see the lawyer.” He dropped his hand back to his side. “I’d better go and deal with Rocket.”

“Where will you bury him?”

“Probably somewhere near his kennel under the trees.” He left her to go to find a shovel.

He dug a hole in the glow from his headlights, then made his way to Rocket’s enclosure. Rowena had covered him with the blanket he used to sleep on. Dan scooped the old dog up in his arms. He was quite rigid but surprisingly light. He’d always felt heavy when Dan had helped him into the back of the dual cab.

Dan placed the dog carefully into the hole then stood and looked down into the gloom. “See you, old mate,” he said. “You were a good worker…and a good friend.”