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‘Horses?’
    His lips twitched. ‘So far as I know, that’s all they breed at Clover.’
    She clicked her tongue with some exasperation. ‘I know that. Do you race horses?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Is this an open day?’
    He shook his head. ‘A private viewing.’
    Kim’s eyes widened. ‘You’re getting a
private
viewing?’
    He shrugged.
    Kim simply stared at him. Clover Hill Stud was renowned throughout Australia in horse-breeding circles. Renowned for the stallions they stood and the percentage of winners amongst their progeny. It was also a showplace with a beautiful old homestead, magnificent gardens and paddocks. And if Reith Richardson had gone out of his way to pick an outing Kim Theron would not be able to resist he couldn’t have chosen better. But, of course, he couldn’t have gone out of his way; this would probably have been arranged well beforehand …
    ‘Kim?’
    She blinked, then shook her head. ‘I don’t know how you do it but you’re a master tactician. Thank you, I cannot tell a lie, I’ve never been to Clover Hill and I would love to see it.’
    ‘You obviously know a bit about horses.’ It was a statement rather than a question.
    ‘I know a bit,’ Kim agreed. ‘I’ve ridden since I was six and my parents raced them. But, hang on, Penny is going home tomorrow—not that she needs me, her mum and hubby are both here now—but I’d like to spend a couple of hours with her when she gets back. So I’ll probably be tied up until after lunch.’
    He sat back and pushed his plate away. ‘You take good care of your friends, don’t you?’
    She lifted her shoulders. ‘Who doesn’t? So—’
    ‘It’s not a problem if you could meet me there at two o’clock.’
    Kim smiled with noticeable radiance. ‘Done!’
    Her parents were home but in bed when she got back that night.
    She took care not to wake them but was surprised when her father stayed in bed the next morning.
    ‘He’s not feeling well,’ her mother confided, closing his bedroom door—they had separate bedrooms.
    ‘Has he seen a doctor?’
    ‘No.’ Fiona Theron tightened the sash of her beautiful silk dressing gown. ‘But I’ll keep an eye on him. So, what have you been doing with yourself, darling?’ She led the way downstairs to the breakfast room.
    ‘This and that,’ Kim heard herself say and grimaced as she thought how evasive the phrase had sounded to her when uttered by Reith Richardson. So she made an effort to elaborate but something kept her from mentioning Reith and she waxed lyrical instead on the subject of Penny’s baby.
    The housekeeper, Mary Hiddens, came in with a coffee pot.
    ‘Hi, Mary! How’s the family?’ Kim enquired as she helped herself to some bacon and French toast from a silver warmer, and poured herself a cup of coffee.
    ‘All well, thank you, Kim,’ Mary replied, then turned to Fiona, who had taken nothing from the warmer but reached now for the coffee pot.
    ‘Ma’am, please have some breakfast,’ Mary said.
    ‘Just now, Mary. You know how I always have to whet my whistle first!’
    Mary hesitated, then withdrew and Kim looked at her mother curiously. ‘You’re not dieting, are you, Mum? You don’t need to; you look marvellous!’ She studied her mother’s slim waistline.
    ‘No, no,’ Fiona said hastily. ‘So you’re back to Esperance tomorrow?’
    ‘Uh-huh.’ Kim fed some bacon to Sunny Bob, who placed his head lovingly in her lap. ‘But it’s not that long to the school holidays, then I’ll be home for a month.’
    ‘Lovely,’ Fiona said, but with a curious lack of conviction.
    Kim frowned and opened her mouth, but her father could be heard calling for her mother.
    ‘Do you want me to call the doctor, Mum?’ she asked.
    ‘No. No,’ her mother repeated with her hand on the door handle. ‘He’ll be fine. Have a nice day, sweetheart!’
    Clover Hill exceeded Kim’s expectations.
    The rose gardens alone were worth the visit but she loved the parade of yearlings,