Someone had to break the silence, and it was finally the police sergeant who did.

‘Now, young lady, suppose you tell us just who-’

The policeman’s voice was gruff, but Mike put a hand on his arm, shook his head at him and silenced him with a hard look.

‘Nope. Questions can wait, Ted. She’s done in. She’s Henry’s granddaughter. That’s all we need to know.’

‘You’re the girl who phoned from the US earlier this week?’ the policeman asked.

‘Yes. I…I’m Tessa Westcott. I flew in this afternoon, hired a car and came straight here.’

‘We don’t need to know any more,’ Mike said firmly, and Tessa’s eyes flew to his face.

What she saw there seemed to reassure her. Mike’s was a face of strength-strongly boned, with wide mouth, firm chin and lean, sculpted lines. There were traces of fatigue around his deep blue eyes, but his eyes sent strong messages of kindness and caring. He ran a hand up through his dark tousled hair, his eyes smiled at her and the impression of reassurance deepened.

‘If Henry Westcott’s your grandfather, how come we’ve never heard of you?’ The barking demand came from behind, and Mike wheeled in sudden anger. It was Jacob, who’d come back into the barn to find a shovel.

‘Jacob, lay off. Can’t you see we’ve scared the girl stupid? She’s hurt and she’s frightened and now’s not the time to start a full-scale interrogation.’

The radio on the police sergeant’s belt crackled into life. The sergeant lifted it and talked briefly and then he sighed.

‘I have to go,’ he told them as he replaced it. ‘The Murchisons’ cows have got out again and they’re all over the road near the river bend. If I don’t get down there soon, someone’s going to hit one.’ He looked closely at Tess. ‘I knew that Henry had a grandkid in the US, though, and you sure have his hair. We need to talk, but maybe…’