Abbey frowned and looked at the clock above the big old fire stove. And winced.

Seven o’clock!

‘We let you sleep,’ Janet explained. ‘We thought it was best.’

‘I see.’ Abbey didn’t see at all. She looked at Ryan with suspicion. ‘Did Janet feed you, then?’

‘There’s no need to say it like it’s taking food from your mouths,’ Ryan complained. ‘Janet said there was heaps.’

‘And so there is,’ Janet said warmly. ‘Ryan’s milked all the cows and it’s only taken him two and a half hours to do it.’

‘Two and a half…’ Abbey’s eyes widened and twinkled. ‘Did the girls give you a hard time, Ryan?’

‘They learned who was boss,’ Ryan said evenly. ‘Eventually.’

‘He might need a loan of your crutches or my walking stick,’ Janet interjected. ‘He got himself kicked.’

Abbey lifted her brows in sympathetic enquiry. ‘Really? Badly, Ryan? Let me see.’

‘No way,’ Ryan said darkly. ‘And don’t ask where. Enough to say it’s a place where the sun rarely shines. It’s not crutches I need but a gynaecological pillow.’

A gynaecological pillow was a pillow shaped like an inner tyre to take the pressure from sore bottoms after childbirth. Abbey grinned in swift sympathy.

‘Oh, dear.’

‘He was bending over to tie one girl’s legs and he forgot the girl in the next bail wasn’t tied,’ Janet explained. She looked over at Abbey and her eyes twinkled. She chuckled out loud and Abbey’s eyes widened even further. It had been a long time since she’d heard Janet chuckle.

Janet placed a plate of casserole on the table. Abbey lowered herself thoughtfully into the chair and surveyed her family.

It all seemed so… so domestic. To have Ryan sitting in the chair at the other end of the table, calmly wiping superfluous egg from her son’s little face. The kitchen had been empty… well, it had seemed empty since they’d moved here. Ryan filled John’s place and more, his charismatic presence holding Janet and the baby spellbound.