Song of the Spirits (In the Land of the Long White Cloud saga)

by Lark, Sarah

  Helen rolled her eyes. “Besides, the man is over sixty. He’s in good shape, I’ll grant you, but not the type to move in on an underage girl at the reception desk of a hotel.”

  Ruben laughed. “Fleur thinks him capable of anything. But maybe Lainie will come in this afternoon. She must be starting to get cabin fever at home. And she doesn’t like playing the piano anymore.” He sighed.

  Helen’s face turned grim. “I am not a violent person, but I wish the plague on this William Martyn. Lainie was such a fun-loving, happy little thing.”

  “She’ll get over it,” Ruben said. “And as for the plague, Georgie is saying William already has it. He thinks William’s marriage to Kura is just about the worst thing that could happen to a man. Should I be worried about him, do you think?”

  Helen laughed. “Maybe Georgie’s showing a keen eye. Let us hope he keeps his good sense regarding people’s inner virtues until he’s of marriageable age. Do send Lainie over to me if she comes into town, won’t you? She can watch the front desk. I have to see to dinner. Both Sideblossoms will be present, so I can’t just serve vegetable soup.”

  Elaine did in fact come to town that afternoon. She had ridden out to a nearby sheep farm to train Callie, as the border collie needed some experience with sheep. Since there were no sheep at Nugget Manor at the moment, Elaine rode out to the Stevers’ place. Fleurette was not very keen on this outing. The Stevers, German immigrants, were reclusive people who only rarely let themselves be seen in Queenstown and did not have any friends. Fleurette thought that the middle-aged wife looked unhappy and haggard, but Elaine didn’t really concern herself with them. She had met the owners of the farm only a couple of times, and came into contact only with their shepherds, almost all of whom were Maori.

  A tribe had taken up residence on the farm a few weeks before, and the Maori welcomed Elaine and Callie good-naturedly. Neither the dog nor the girl was an imposition on them, and they had proved helpful. They often invited Elaine to eat with them or to come to their tribal celebrations, and they frequently gave her fish and sweet potatoes to take back to her mother. Since the incident with William, Elaine had spent more time with the Maori than with the girls her own age in town. Fleurette had noticed this, but was unconcerned. She, too, had grown up with Maori playmates and spoke their language fluently. She even accompanied Elaine sometimes to refresh her language skills and meet her daughter’s new friends. The Maori had begun to come into town more often to shop at the O’Kay Warehouse—which caused Mrs. Stever to complain. Her workers had started asking for more money, she explained during her rare visits to Queenstown. Until then, they had always paid their shepherds and maids in produce, cheating them heftily at that.

  However, there was little for the Maori to do on Stever Station that day, and what was worse, one of the girls had told Elaine that they were planning to migrate soon. The Stevers’ sheep would be up in the highlands for the summer, after all, and Mr. Stever was cheap. He paid his workers only on a per diem basis, when he had a specific need for them. That being the case, the tribe planned to depart for a few months to fish and hunt in the highlands, and then return in the fall to herd the sheep back down to the lowlands. That was of the traditional Maori way, and they seemed to be looking forward to it. But a sad summer lay ahead for Elaine and Callie.

  Now they were desperately looking for something to do. On that day in particular, Elaine did not feel like brooding. The wedding was taking place, after all. In its way, it had been touching of her mother not to tell her exactly what time the ceremony was, but of course Elaine had found out anyway. It did not hurt as much anymore. If she had been wise, she would never have gotten her own hopes up. Up against a girl like Kura, she could not help but lose.

  Filled with gloomy thoughts, she led Banshee to her grandmother’s stables. To her surprise, she found two horses there that she did not recognize, one more beautiful than the other. Both were black, a gelding and a stallion. The stallion was unusual. Most farmers, even the wealthy sheep barons, preferred mares and geldings because they were easier to handle. And yet this fellow here seemed perfectly trained. He hardly stirred when Elaine led Banshee past him. The mare had already been covered, though, and would soon be having Owen’s foal.

  The gelding, unquestionably of Arab pedigree, was almost as handsome as the stallion, and was likely his son or brother. It was unlikely that someone had bought two such similar animals independently of each other. So it must be two riders who had come to town together. Elaine’s curiosity was piqued, and she planned to ask her grandmother about it.

  Elaine took the most direct path between the stable and the house, only casually brushing the dirt and horsehair from her riding dress. She did not plan to change her clothes, and she had tied her hair back carelessly. Regardless of whether she would be helping in the kitchen or the store, she did not want anyone to notice her.

  One of the twins was waiting at the reception desk, looking through a supply catalog and clearly bored.

  “Oh, hello, Lainie! And Callie!” She laughed radiantly and petted the dog, who immediately jumped up on her, wagging her tail. Elaine was convinced that Callie could tell the difference between the twins. She, however, still had to guess. Her grandmother had said Mary was the more outgoing one. So she was more likely to be at the front desk while Laurie cooked.

  She tried her luck. “Hi, Mary!”

  The twin giggled. “Laurie. Mary is helping out in the store. Even though we have so much to do. Mrs. O’Keefe has several guests, and we have to cook. But now you’re here. Mrs. O’Keefe said you’re to take over the front desk, so I can finally get to work in the kitchen.”

  Elaine was not particularly pleased about that arrangement, as she no longer enjoyed working at the reception desk. On the other hand, she couldn’t really take care of the cooking on her own. She didn’t even know what Helen wanted to serve. So she obediently took Laurie’s place. Callie followed Laurie into the kitchen, where something tasty often fell down for her.

  At least Elaine could satisfy her curiosity. The new guests must have written their names down, so she would quickly be able to learn whose horses those were in the stables.

  John and Thomas Sideblossom.

  Elaine almost had to laugh. If her mother only knew she had just fallen into the lion’s den. She knew the old stories about John Sideblossom but did not take them very seriously. Besides, that had all been twenty years ago—half an eternity for a young Elaine. In any event, there was no reason for Fleurette to still be unsettled by him. Elaine had seen him from a distance before and had not found him so terrifying. A tall, muscular man with weathered skin and longish, dark hair that had probably gone gray. His haircut had been somewhat unconventional, but otherwise he did not strike her as so outlandish. Elaine’s mother had always talked about his “cold eyes,” but Elaine had never gotten that close to him. Nor, for that matter, had Fleurette in the last twenty years. She always barricaded herself in her room as soon as she heard he was coming to town.

  Elaine heard steps on the front porch and froze. She would have like to make herself invisible, but she had to smile and receive the hotel’s guests. She lowered her gaze as the colorful wind chime that Helen had hung at the entrance announced the arrival of a guest.

  “Good evening, Miss O’Keefe! Nice to see you here again.”

  Thank goodness it was only Mr. Dipps, the older of the two bankers. Elaine nodded at him.

  “You’re early, Mr. Dipps,” she observed, looking for his key.

  “I have to go back to the bank later. Mr. Stever wants to discuss a loan and cannot come in during normal hours since he has to see to his animals then. He’s complaining that his Maori are taking off, but it’s his own fault for not hiring people on for the whole year. Oh well, since I’m going to be working late, I came back a little early. Would it be possible for me to make use of the bathhouse, Miss O’Keefe? Or would that be too much to ask of you?”

  Elaine shrugged. “I can ask Laur
ie, but the twins have their hands full today. It’s possible that the stoves have been heated anyway. We have new guests, and they may want to bathe as well.”

  She ran to the kitchen and looked almost enviously at Laurie cutting carrots. She would have liked to hide away in here, rather than run the risk of seeing John Sideblossom out there. Though, in truth, she was a bit curious about him.

  Laurie raised her head from her work and thought for a moment. “The bathhouse? Yes, we heated it. But I don’t know if there’s enough water for three people. Ask Mr. Dipps to be frugal. As a banker, he should know how to do that.”

  Mr. Dipps heard the comment—Elaine had forgotten to shut the door—and laughed with delight. “I’ll try to do my bank justice. If I use too much, I’ll haul up a couple of buckets myself; I promise. Do you have the key, Miss O’Keefe?”

  While Elaine was looking for the key to the bathhouse, she missed hearing the wind chime when it rang a second time. When she had finally found the key in a drawer and turned to face Mr. Dipps, she found herself unexpectedly standing before a new guest as well. The tall, dark-haired man standing behind the banker fixed his inscrutable brown eyes on Elaine.

  Almost scared to death by his sudden appearance, she lowered her gaze and blushed. At the same, she grew angry with herself. She could not behave like that here. The man must think her a hopeless fool. She forced herself to look at him.

  “Good evening, sir. What can I do for you?”

  The man looked her over for a moment before deciding to smile at her. His face was chiseled, almost a little square even, and his curly hair was neatly combed. It looked as though he was coming from a business meeting.

  “Thomas Sideblossom. My key, please. And the key to the bathhouse. We’ve reserved it.”

  Mr. Dipps smiled apologetically. “I have it at the moment. If I might offer to show you the way, we won’t need to bother Miss O’Keefe.”

  “I… I could call the bellboy if more water is needed,” Elaine stammered.

  “I think we’ll manage,” said Thomas curtly. “My thanks… Laurie, was it?”

  “No, I should say thank you… but I… that is, I’m not Laurie.” Elaine now looked at the young man more closely, admiring his smile, which softened his features.

  “What’s your name then, miss?” he asked amiably. He seemed not to have been put off by her stammering.

  “Elaine,” she said. “Elaine O’Keefe.”

  Thomas Sideblossom did not have much experience with pakeha girls. There simply weren’t any in the area around the farm where he grew up, and on his travels he’d had contact only with a few whores. They had proved far from satisfying though. Whenever Thomas thought lustfully of a woman, a brown, wide-hipped figure appeared before his eyes rather than a light-skinned creature. Her hair should be straight and black, long enough to wrap around his fingers and hold in his hand like reins. He banished the image of submission from his mind—a head thrown back, a mouth opened in a scream. He banished the thought of Emere from his mind. Such an image had no place here. For even if he did not know much about respectable pakeha girls, the insolent little things in the brothels had made it clear enough to him that he could not come close to expecting of them what Emere did for his father.

  So if he ever wanted to get married, he knew he would have to make compromises. And getting married was unavoidable: Thomas needed an heir. He could not risk having his father and his father’s new wife potentially produce a little rival. Not to mention the fact that he simply couldn’t take it anymore. All these women in the house, all of whom belonged to his father, or were taboo because they… No, Thomas dared not think about that either. The only thing he knew for certain was that he needed a woman all his own, who belonged entirely to him and who must never have belonged to another. It had to be a suitable girl, from a good house. But not one of those giggling, overly self-assured creatures occasionally introduced to him by hopeful business partners. The daughters of those sheep barons and bankers were attractive, but he was turned off by the way they examined him appraisingly, almost lasciviously, their frank speech, and their enticing way of dressing.

  Which made the little redhead from the front desk, whose whole life story Mr. Dipps was now describing for him, appear all the more refreshing. The banker proved himself loquacious in the bathhouse, and little Elaine had kept the town gossips thoroughly occupied. Naturally, that knocked her out of the running for Thomas. It was a shame, but this girl was obviously no longer unspoiled.

  “The fellow broke the girl’s heart.” Dipps recounted Elaine’s relationship to William Martyn with genuine sympathy. “But the girl he cheated on her with was out of her league, of course. It would have been hard for anyone to compete with her, a Maori princess, that one.”

  This last bit of information was of little interest to Thomas. A Maori girl was out of the question for the heir of Lionel Station. Elaine, however, had made a good impression at first. So sweet and shy in her simple, dark high-buttoned riding dress. And yet nicely shaped, with long, silky hair—silk-lined reins. Thomas allowed himself a reverie of a few seconds, during which he pictured delicate red tresses taking the place of Emere’s hair.

  Still, he would not have spared the girl a second thought after Dipps’s revelations—had his father not mentioned Elaine as well.

  “Did you see the redhead at reception?” John Sideblossom asked when the men met later in their room. Thomas had just left the bathhouse and was changing, and John had just arrived after dealing with Herman Stever. It had gone well. The man planned to buy a whole herd of their best ewes, driving himself deep into debt for them. Though of course it could be a good stroke of business for him if he bred the sheep right on schedule and did not skimp in the wrong places. John would have liked to sell him a few rams too, but the obstinate German claimed not to need them. It would be his own fault if the offspring did not meet his expectations.

  Thomas nodded indifferently, though an image from his earlier reverie flashed before him. “Yes, I met her already. Her name is Elaine. But she’s damaged goods. They say she was involved with an Englishman.”

  James laughed, but it was his predatory laugh, not the hearty laugh he used among the men with whom he like to recount his conquests in the various brothels he frequented up and down the West Coast.

  “Damaged, that one? Never ever. Now, who told you that? She might have been in love, but she’s a classy girl, Thomas. She wouldn’t go to bed with just anyone.”

  “I heard she’s related to the hotel owner,” Thomas said. “And she has the red hair too… though she doesn’t behave like she grew up in a pub.”

  John roared with laughter. “You think she’s related to Daphne O’Rourke? The madam? I don’t believe it! Don’t you have any sense for class, boy? No, no, that red hair comes from the Wardens. She gets that from the legendary Gwyneira McKenzie, formerly Warden.”

  “Gwyneira McKenzie?” Thomas inquired, buttoning the vest of his three-piece suit. “Of Kiward Station? The one who’s married to that rustler now?”

  “That’s the one. This girl’s the spitting image of her mother and grandmother. Just looks like a gentler version. Fleurette had a sharp tongue, and old Gwyn no less so. But she was a classy girl, both were classy. You should take another look at the girl. Besides, I still have a score to settle with that family.”

  Thomas did not rightly know whether he wanted to help settle his father’s scores. But what he had heard about Elaine’s family intrigued him. He already knew all about his father and Fleurette Warden—everyone in the area still talked about it years later. The only woman to ever resist John Sideblossom, according to the gossip. Who just disappeared after their grandly announced engagement, only to reappear, already married, in Queenstown. It would be difficult to top Fleurette—he was quite certain that this girl Elaine would never behave in such a manner. All the better. Thomas Sideblossom’s hunter’s instinct was aroused once again.

  He skipped the visit he had been planning to
Daphne’s. How would it look if he satisfied himself with a whore one night and then tried to court a girl from a good house the next day? His hope of running into Elaine at the hotel’s dinner table went unfulfilled. However, he learned that she was not an employee, but Helen O’Keefe’s granddaughter. Hence the misunderstanding about her being Daphne’s relative.

  “Elaine is a charming girl, but one has to lure her out of her shell first,” Helen revealed. “She was out of sorts earlier because she was so timid at the front desk. She fears you must think her an idiot.”

  Helen was not entirely comfortable speaking so openly about Elaine to the Sideblossoms and knew that Fleurette would probably have stoned her for doing so. On the other hand, this young man appeared well-bred, friendly, and courteous. He had inquired very politely about Elaine, and he was at least as handsome as William Martyn. And he was rich! Perhaps Elaine would start to behave more like her former self if another distinguished young man courted her. Nothing would come of it, of course. But a few friendly conversations, a hint of admiration in the boy’s dark eyes—Thomas Sideblossom’s gaze was less sharp and piercing than his father’s, more wistful—might be just the thing to bring Elaine back to life. The girl was so pretty. It was time someone told her so!

  “I actually quite like it when a young girl is a little… hmm… reserved,” Thomas said. “I rather liked Miss O’Keefe. If you would pass that along for me…”

  Helen smiled. Elaine would finally have a reason to blush with joy again, rather than from a lack of self-assurance.

  Thomas likewise smiled. “Perhaps I will see her here again. Then I would be able to speak to her at greater length.”

  Helen had the feeling that things were moving in the right direction.