Miracles in the Village. Josie Metcalfe

be lovely. Thanks. I’ll check with Fran and get back to you if there’s a problem. See you tomorrow—two? Fine.’

      He put the phone down. ‘That was Ben Carter,’ he said, and she thought his voice sounded a little wary. ‘He’s got a couple of days off, and they’ve invited us for a barbeque tomorrow. He wants to look over the land with me, show me where he’s talking about so I can discuss it with Joe later.’

      And, of course, the baby would be there. ‘That’s nice,’ she said, summoning a smile, and it was, of course. It would be lovely. Annabel was gorgeous, and she couldn’t isolate herself from everyone just in case she ever encountered a baby. She taught the reception class of a primary school, for heaven’s sake! She was surrounded by babies and toddlers and pregnant women at every turn.

      And just because, for now at least, she wasn’t able to join them, it didn’t mean she wanted to avoid them.

      ‘You really OK with it?’

      She smiled again, a bit more convincingly. ‘Yes, Mike. I’m OK with it. It’ll be lovely. Stop worrying. I can cope—I have to. And Sophie will be in her element. She’ll be able to tell Lucy all about the new baby that’s coming and practise on Annabel. Why don’t you ring them back and say yes? I’ll make a salad and we can take some steaks and burgers from the farm shop. It’ll be fun.’

      And if she told herself that enough times, maybe she’d believe it …

      CHAPTER NINE

      IT WAS an absolutely gorgeous day, and Sophie was up with the larks, bursting into their bedroom and clambering onto the bed, effectively putting an end to their early-morning cuddle.

      Especially as the dog came too, trampling all over them and lashing Mike with her tongue.

      Fran ducked under the bedclothes with a little shriek, Mike yelled at Brodie and told her to get down, then he must have grabbed Sophie because she started to giggle hysterically.

      ‘No, no, stop!’ she screamed, then there was a yelp from Mike, and Fran emerged from the bedclothes to find him sitting up and holding his ribs, his mouth open as he gasped with pain.

      ‘I only tickled him back,’ Sophie said, her eyes flooding with tears, and Mike reached out and tucked her under his right arm, well away from the damaged ribs, and kissed the top of her head as she burrowed into him, sobbing heartbrokenly.

      ‘It’s OK, sweetheart, don’t cry, I’m fine,’ he said softly. ‘It wasn’t you, it was because I jumped. You didn’t hurt me.’

      Her head came out from his side and she stared up at him soulfully. ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘I’m sure. Come here.’

      So she snuggled back into his side and, reaching out her hand, caught hold of Fran and tugged her over, pulling her into the cuddle, too.

      ‘That’s better,’ she said, and for a few minutes they all lay there quietly until Sophie’s natural ebullience returned. ‘So—what are we going to do today? Can we go to the beach?’

      ‘Not while your dad’s got his cast on,’ Fran said, saving him from having to tell her. ‘Anyway, we’re doing something much more exciting. We’re going to see Ben and Lucy Carter, just down the road at Tregorran House, and they’ve got a little baby girl called Annabel. I expect you’ll be able to play with her.’

      Sophie wriggled round and looked up at Fran, eyes sparkling. ‘Is she very new?’

      ‘Not very. She was born on Christmas Eve, but she’s still pretty tiny. She can’t do a lot, but you can play peep-bo with her and teach her how to play with her toys, I expect.’

      ‘Can I hold her?’

      ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

      ‘That means no,’ Sophie said with an exaggerated sigh.

      ‘No, it means maybe,’ Fran reiterated, ‘and it depends on Lucy.’

      ‘That’s not till this afternoon, though,’ Mike put in, ‘so what do you want to do this morning?’

      ‘Go riding,’ Sophie said promptly. ‘Can I? Please? Mummy said you might let me.’

      Mike met Fran’s eyes. ‘Got any other plans?’

      She shook her head. ‘No. I’ve got things to do here, like picking up the eggs and mucking out the chickens, and they might need a hand in the farm shop, but if I get up early and get on with it—since I already seem to be awake,’ she added, wriggling her fingers into Sophie’s ribs and making her giggle, ‘I might as well get on. Why don’t you two have a bit of a rest and make some breakfast for me? And by the time you’ve done that, I’ll have finished with the chickens. And I’ll take Brodie with me, she could do with a bit of a run. It might be late enough then to ring the stables and see if they can fit you in.’

      They could, and they set off at a quarter to eleven, Sophie fizzing with excitement. They turned into the stableyard and pulled up, and she was out of the door and hopping from foot to foot with impatience while Mike sorted out his crutches.

      ‘Come on, you, hold my hand and let’s go and find Georgina,’ Fran said to her, and Sophie slipped her hand into Fran’s and all but dragged her over to where a few fat little ponies were tied up to a rail by the stables. Children were milling around them, brushing and fussing over them, and the ponies stood patiently and tolerated it with what Fran felt was very good grace.

      ‘Hi, Sophie, haven’t seen you for a while,’ Georgina Somers said, coming over and smiling at them. ‘You’re looking well, unlike your dad—he’s been in the wars, hasn’t he?’

      ‘He broke his leg,’ Sophie said, a little unnecessarily as Mike hobbled towards them in his cast, leaning heavily on one crutch and grinning.

      ‘Really?’ Georgina teased, then flashed a smile at Mike which might have made Fran jealous if she hadn’t been loved so very thoroughly by him the night before. ‘The wounded soldier. I heard about your accident. Good to see you up and about.’

      ‘Good to be up and about. They gave me a walking cast the other day—it’s so much better, but I must say I’m a bit scared about my toes. I’m used to steel toecaps, and I feel a bit vulnerable.’

      ‘Mmm. I did when I broke my leg. Right, Sophie, let’s get you a hat sorted out and then pop you up on your pony. You’re riding Bracken today.’

      ‘Oh, goody, I love Bracken! He’s really nice.’

      ‘She says that about every one of them,’ Mike murmured as Georgina took Sophie to get her hat. ‘She’d love us to buy her one—that’s the trouble with bringing her here, we’ll have nothing else for the rest of the week, and there’s no way she’s having a pony part time, it just isn’t fair. Apart from anything else, I’ve got more than enough to do without pooh-picking and grooming and changing rugs and so forth, and that’s never the end, is it? There’s always another one, and then another one, because the first is too small and then the next one will be lonely and then you can’t get rid of the old one and it just goes on. I know so many farmers who’re overrun with their children’s first ponies and they just can’t get rid of them.’

      Fran chuckled. ‘Sounds to me like a done job,’ she teased, but he shook his head.

      ‘No way, Fran. To tell you the truth, I don’t really like her riding. It’s dangerous, and the odd ride from time to time is OK, but all the time? She’s only six—it’s too risky. So I’m just going to keep saying no to her own pony and letting her come here instead. She’s too precious to us.’

      She was. Fran watched her skipping out of the tack room in a body protector and a hat with a shocking pink silk cover on it, looking utterly delectable, and she felt her eyes fill.

      ‘I have to keep her safe, Fran,’ Mike said, and she heard the little catch in his voice.