‘Sooner than you think if he doesn’t get himself fixed up.’

‘Maybe if I offered to pay for his op…’ Ronnie rolled a lip anxiously beneath her teeth. Lester’s endurance was spectacularly, nobly self-destructive.

‘You’re broke.’

‘I have a credit card.’

‘They’ll be hunting snowmen in hell before he takes your charity.’ He glanced across at the sleet-filled clouds rolling up along the horizon. ‘He’s that sort.’

‘My father called Lester the original iron man.’

‘He’s rusted.’ He reached for her hand and squeezed it in his calloused one. ‘I get that you need a rider. I’d just rather you’d chosen a different one.’

Ronnie did too. The one rider she longed to share this place with was standing beside her. She leaned into Blair’s side briefly, breathing in his strength, needing her iron men more than ever, especially with her father gone and Pax’s marriage unravelling.

Intuitive to her mood as always, he set off across the yard, taking her along with him. ‘Show me how that dun colt’s looking before I go. See if he can convince me to leave off retirement for another decade.’

Ronnie followed, grateful for the brief diversion and its hidden message: they both knew the colt was their point on the horizon, a shared dream that might just outlive Blair’s marriage and her family rifts.

As they approached the field, he swiftly let go of her hand. The dun colt was having a conversation with Carly Turner over the far fence at the far end of the farm track where she’d parked her buggy, the young mum holding up her chubby, pink-cheeked baby to talk to him while her two other children fed carrots to their big, battle-scarred dog.

Like many ageing eventers accustomed to parking up in stately piles each weekend, Blair was an inveterate snob. ‘You’ll never get rid of that one.’

‘Why would I want to?’ Ronnie’s censorious look won her a brisk nod and crooked smile.

‘I swear she was hawking the fork at Lester earlier.’

‘The what?’

‘Soliciting.’

‘Good luck to her if she was.’ She waved at Carly, marching onwards. ‘You know better than anyone that the greatest talents need to set themselves impossible challenges. Like saving the stud for this chap to stand here.’ They both tilted their heads to admire the colt who, shaggy-coated and muddy, looked far from a future superstar. But to their trained eyes, he was pure gold, and one of the reasons Ronnie was determined to turn the family fortunes. He could be the best horse her father had bred in a lifetime.

‘I still think you should sell me a leg,’ Blair complained. ‘It’d pay for an old man’s hip.’

‘Lester would never stand for emotional blackmail, ha ha.’ She ignored his groan with a defiant smile. ‘He agrees with me that we’re keeping every hair of this one in the Percy family name.’ Now within Carly’s earshot, she called out to wish her a happy new year.

The young blonde was smilier than Ronnie had ever seen her. ‘Lester tell you I helped with the yard work this morning?’