by Lark, Sarah
“Looks like you’re raising a little pioneer,” Karl said. “You won’t need a man when you grow up, Carrie.”
“Don’t tell Ottfried, but that’s the goal,” Ida said dryly, and both of them laughed.
Ida and Karl talked about New Zealand, the differences between the North and South Islands, and the tensions sparked by new settlements. Karl told her about his travels and about the books he’d read. Ida could repeat only the stories she’d heard from Gibson.
“I always loved reading so much,” she said wistfully. “But there weren’t any books in Sankt Pauli Village.”
And suddenly, it was easy for her to talk about the settlement. Not about Ottfried and her ordeals, but about the building of the village, the missionaries, the houses, and the constant flooding.
“I can imagine your father’s reaction to that,” Karl said grimly. “‘Let us thank God that only half was washed away . . .’” He raised his hands in mock prayer and imitated Jakob Lange’s preacher voice.
Ida giggled. “Even worse,” she said. “The first time around, mud covered my entire garden. And I was supposed to thank God for the good new topsoil!”
Karl laughed with her. “And I’ll bet next time, you were supposed to thank God that a few rats drowned.”
“And that we wouldn’t be struck with drought for the next few months,” Ida joked.
They went on this way for a while, inventing the most absurd reasons to be grateful about the flooding in Sankt Pauli Village. Ida felt guilty, but she hadn’t laughed so much in years, maybe never before in her life.
“Well, I thank God in all honesty that he washed you away from there!” Karl said finally. “I know it’s a sin. I shouldn’t have wished for the settlement to fail, but I warned you, and I couldn’t have done any more than that. And I don’t think God would judge me for wishing for a different life for you. When—when did he become that way?”
Ida frowned. “Who? God?”
Karl laughed forcedly. “Of course not. I’m sorry, I meant Ottfried. When did he change like that? I never liked him, Ida, and I never thought he deserved you. But I thought he was a decent man. I thought he was like your father, or his father.”
“They aren’t simple either,” Ida said quietly.
Karl put his arm around Carol, who was toying with the reins of the calmly trotting horses. He enclosed her tiny hands in his. And he touched Ida’s arm a little too.
“Ida, he drinks. He doesn’t work. He’s gambled away all his money.”
“He had something left for the sheep,” Ida said between her teeth.
She squeezed Linda in her arms so tightly that the little one whimpered in protest. It had been nice to joke around with Karl. Why did he have to ruin it? She hated having to defend Ottfried, but he was still her husband.
“Which still surprises me,” Karl replied. “Besides, he treats you badly. No, nobody told me that, not even Cat, although I can see the anger in her eyes when you come into the barn with tears on your face. And I can hear the dog barking and the children crying. I can feel your sadness, Ida, and your fear. Sometimes I can barely stand it.”
He had looked straight ahead as he spoke, and now he turned to face her. His eyes were full of worry, but there was the hope in them that she might finally open up to him.
“If I can stand it,” Ida said quietly, “then you can too. Or are you still thinking about leaving? Taking the next ship to Bahia?”
Karl put his left arm all the way around Ida, pulling her and the children toward him.
“You only have to say the word, Ida. If you want it, if you can get by with your God and your conscience or whatever’s keeping you with Ottfried, we’ll take the next ship and sail to the end of the world.”
Ida tried not to think about the consequences as she abandoned herself to Karl’s cautious embrace. She simply enjoyed the warmth of his closeness, listened as he joked with the children, and sat by the fire with him in the evening, feeling relaxed. She rocked the children to sleep while he caught fish and roasted them and dug out and prepared roots almost as skillfully as Cat.
“On the North Island, they wrap food in leaves and cook it in firepits under hot stones. You dig it out when it’s done,” he told her, and Ida felt like laughing again.
“You always dig out your food here,” she remarked. “Think of the kiwis. Ottfried’s brother had a kind of sixth sense about where to dig for them.”
Karl buried a root in the embers to cook it. “Eric’s a nice boy.”
Ida pushed her hair back. “He’s different than Ottfried. And I think he was always like that, in a way.”
“Who? Eric? He may have always had good traits, but they only really came out in the new country. In Raben Steinfeld—”
“No, I mean Ottfried,” Ida whispered and stared into the flames. “He was like that in school too. Quick-tempered and bossy, never working. You got into a fight with him once, do you remember that? Back when we were little. Master Brakel was furious. And at some point, Ottfried realized that fighting didn’t get you far in Raben Steinfeld. Praying and assimilating worked better. I think what’s most important to Ottfried is what other people think of him. He needs—‘friends’ is the wrong word.” She paused.
“He needs accomplices,” Karl offered. “He needs people to do a deal on the sly with, to talk to him, and to drink and gamble with.”
Ida nodded. “My father liked accomplices too,” she admitted. “And Ottfried’s father. In Raben Steinfeld, Ottfried would have become a pillar of the community. Stubborn and firm in his faith, and soon a sexton and a prayer leader and then in the church council.”
“And his brother, Erich, would have been the black sheep of the family, always stirring up trouble,” Karl added. “But now”—he smiled grimly—“we’re on the other side of the earth. North here is south there. One man’s luck is another man’s misfortune.”
Ida shook her head. “Ottfried isn’t going to fail. He always gets by somehow. He’s lucky, and he has me—and you and Chris. I know full well what the two of you are doing for me, Karl, and how hard it is for you to get along with him. But I can’t leave him, Karl. It would be a deadly sin. My mother would turn in her grave. ‘What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.’”
“No matter what he does?” Karl asked desperately. “Ida, we’re in New Zealand, but sometimes you act as though you’re still back in Raben Steinfeld!”
“Maybe I am,” she said quietly.
Chapter 62
Even though it was pouring, Karl and Ida were sad when they spotted the first sheep at Riccarton on the afternoon of their third day traveling. The Deanses’ animals were everywhere in the surrounding hills, nibbling on the last of the summer grass. They were probably usually in barns by this time of year. But at the moment, the largest of the sheep pens was occupied by a strange herd. Almost a hundred ewes and lambs were squeezed into the pasture in front of the house.
“Those must be Cat’s!” Karl cried. “What nice animals. They could easily be Merinos. I can hardly believe it!”
“Not a bad guess,” William Deans said with a laugh.
He was walking toward them from a shearing shed, wearing a raincoat and a sou’wester. “You people from Fenroy Station are getting all the best sheep! These here are Rambouillets, also called French Merinos. They’re excellent wool providers, and not as sensitive as their Spanish ancestors. These here are pretty weatherproof. Whereas you two are soaked through. And goodness, the children have grown! Let’s go inside and get them dry.”
But Karl couldn’t tear himself away. Fascinated, he examined the creatures’ thick wool and the rams’ tapered, curling horns.
“How did Cat come by French sheep?” he asked.
“The same way the virgin got a child!” Deans joked. “But she’ll want to tell you that herself. First, come into the house.”
Chasseur bounded up to Ida as soon as William Deans opened the farmhouse door. He couldn’t decide whether to
go to Ida first or lick the twins’ faces.
“Down, down!” Carol cried.
The adults laughed.
“We’ll send her to work with the dogs when she’s older. She’ll soon be running a farm all by herself!” William said.
Linda embraced and kissed the dog, and then both girls threw themselves at Cat. Cat kissed and tickled them delightedly before she hugged Ida.
“See, I came back! And I even have a present for you.”
Ida’s brow creased. “You’re not going to give me a hundred sheep, are you?”
Cat shook her head, laughing. “No. I’m not giving them to anyone. Mrs. Hempleman thought I should use my inheritance to start a business. A sheep farm is just as good a business as any other.”
Ida went pale. “You want your own farm? You aren’t going to stay at Fenroy Station?”
Cat reached into her pocket and pulled out the jewel-covered cross, and put it around Ida’s neck. “Here, this is your present. Your own personal Christian hei tiki. May your God protect you and keep you from constantly worrying. Of course I’m not leaving. But now say hello to Emma and Alison, and come get warm!”
Ida didn’t have to be told twice. She embraced the Deanses’ wives, accepted their compliments about her well-behaved children, and allowed herself to be spoiled with tea and cake. Karl, too, kept the women company in the parlor. Before he let the Deans brothers lead him into the study, the only room in the house where the women allowed unlimited use of tobacco and whiskey, he wanted to hear Cat’s story.
Then Cat told them all about Carpenter, Nadine, and “good poor Pierrot” and his sheep.
“I managed to convince her that the animals would be in good hands with me, that they would be loved and pampered and addressed by name every day. She had given them all real names, all ninety-eight of them! She gave me a list. Unfortunately, not a single one of them come when they’re called. But anyway, Nadine sold them to me for a fair price, and now they’re mine. There were originally fifty animals imported from France, but many of them were pregnant and had lambs. There’s also a ram with them, and he bred with some of the ewes again in the meantime,” Cat said.
“We can raise our glasses to that!” William Deans said and winked at Karl. “Now, gentlemen, let’s take our leave and let the women talk about children, cake, and church.”
His wife, Emma, playfully threw a ball of yarn at him. The women talked about sheep, wool production, and cheesemaking. The Deanses were planning to close their dairy.
“We can’t compete with your cheese, Ida,” Emma said, without sounding resentful. “The work isn’t in proportion to the profits. Our farm is now specializing completely in wool production. To keep the breeding animals healthy, we’re driving them over the mountains in summer and setting them free there. We’re even thinking about moving closer to the highlands. The Redwoods are doing that; they’re looking for a buyer for their farm. Then you can provide all of Port Cooper with cheese, as well as the future settlement of Christchurch. That is, if you want to stay in the dairy business.”
Ida looked at Cat questioningly, but she only shrugged. “Rambouillets are famous for their wool,” Cat said. “I’ll talk it over with Te Haitara and the Maori women. But if they’re interested in a cheese dairy . . .”
She didn’t sound very optimistic. Te Haitara’s tribe was already fully occupied with making hei tikis and medicine for Jane.
“You’re going to stay with the Maori?” Ida asked, taken aback. “And compete with Chris and Karl?”
Cat raised her hands appeasingly. “Oh, Ida, who said anything about competition? I hear the wool makers in London are buying as much yarn as they can get their hands on. Anyway, I was thinking about working in cooperation with Fenroy Station. For example, we’ll soon need to hire a professional sheep shearer to teach us how to do the work. They’re terribly in demand, and it would make sense if we all got together and hired one—the Redwoods, the Deans brothers, Fenroy Station, the Ngai Tahu, and me.”
“Mommy, peepee!” Linda’s bright voice announced.
Ida jumped up immediately. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “Come, Linda, let’s go. You might as well come too, Carol.”
Ida hurried down the hall to the privy. She passed the door of the dim, smoke-filled study and caught a glimpse of Karl and the Deans brothers relaxing on worn-out leather sofas in front of a fireplace, their collies at their feet and glasses of whiskey in front of them.
On the way back, the girls toddled ahead, eager to get back to Cat. As Ida approached the study, she stopped in the hall, unable to tear herself away from what she heard.
“What is Cat planning to do with her sheep?” John Deans was asking.
“I don’t know,” Karl replied. “She didn’t tell me. Of course, Chris hopes that she’s going to add the animals to our herd.”
“Another partner?” William asked skeptically. “Won’t that be too much, if everyone wants to have a say in the business? Next thing you know, you’re going to need a meeting of Parliament before you decide to breed a single ewe.”
The brothers laughed loudly.
“Now that we’re on the subject—” That was John, and he sounded serious. “There’s something we wanted to talk to you or Chris about. It’s none of our business, but Ida is such a nice woman. She has such charming kids too. It’s just not right.”
Ida could imagine Karl sitting up at attention. “What about Ida?” he asked.
Ida heard a gurgling sound. Apparently, the men were refilling the whiskey glasses.
“That husband of hers has been hanging around Jefferson’s Pub in Port Cooper for days. He’s gambling and drinking away your profits. Just that alone is out of order. But worse, he’s spreading gossip, Karl. He’s boasting about all kinds of adventures—with the two women he brought to the Canterbury Plains. Both of them.” William stopped to take a swallow of whiskey.
“Don’t misunderstand us, Karl,” John said. “We don’t believe the gossip, and the chaps in Port Cooper, the whalers and captains and seal hunters, really don’t care how many women Ottie got pregnant. But the settlement is growing, and these new people founding a town on the Avon are quite religious. It’s called Christchurch, for goodness sake. They’re building the churches where Lindy and Carrie will be married someday, hopefully to good, honest members of the community. But if Ottie’s rumors keep spreading—things like that can stick.”
Ida didn’t listen to Karl’s answer. She reeled backward as though she’d been slapped, and the anger that rose up inside her was an all-consuming blaze. She burned with it. All she wanted was to shriek at Ottfried, to hit him, scratch him, and bite him. How could he betray her secret, and boast about his brutality? He had destroyed Ida’s life, and Cat’s too, in a certain way. How could he destroy the girls’ lives too, his own daughters?
Ida didn’t think about returning to the women now. In her distraught condition, she would surely give herself away. Right now, there still was a possibility that the Deans brothers would keep the gossip from Emma and Alison. After all, they had just assured Karl that they didn’t believe it. Ida grabbed an oilskin coat she’d seen hanging by the privy and set off immediately on the road to Port Cooper. She would take care of Ottfried now, for all the world to see!
Ida wasn’t a very good rider, but she didn’t want to walk the seven miles to Port Cooper, nor did she want to waste a moment harnessing the horses for the wagon.
She went to the barn. Ida had ridden well-mannered Brandy before while driving her sheep. She grabbed the gelding’s saddle from the back of the wagon. After brief consideration, she also took her revolver out from under the seat. It would be dark by the time she reached Port Cooper, and a harbor town at night wasn’t the safest place for a woman alone.
She led the horse out of the barn and mounted up. Fortunately, it had stopped raining, and Ida watched the clouds drifting apart as she gently encouraged the horse into a trot toward Port Cooper. Karl’s horse knew the way, and he
was reliable. She had nothing to fear from Brandy.
“Where’s Ida?” Cat asked.
“Probably with the men,” Emma said. “She must have stayed there after taking the children to the privy.”
Cat frowned. Ida wasn’t the kind of woman who would just join in with a group of smoking, whiskey-drinking men. She rushed to the study to check.
“Ida? No, she wasn’t here,” William said.
Karl looked up in alarm. “Yes, she was. She walked past with the children before,” he said. “But actually, I don’t think I saw her come back.”
“Maybe you just didn’t notice,” John suggested.
Karl had already leaped to his feet. “She must have heard us talking about Ottfried! Oh, God, Cat, if she heard . . .”
Cat shrugged. “We stopped getting upset about Ottfried’s escapades a long time ago. What was this about, then? Is he drinking up the profits from the cheese? Or does he have a new whore? We had that before already, in Nelson.”
Karl didn’t miss that “we.” “Cat, is it true?” he said in German. It was better if the Deans brothers didn’t understand.
“Is what true?” she replied, beginning to worry in earnest. “What are you talking about?”
“Ottfried was bragging in Port Cooper about his skill with women. He insists—I don’t really want to repeat it, but he claims that you were his lover. He says he slept with both you and Ida.” There was disgust in Karl’s face. “He says he got you both pregnant.”
Cat recoiled in shock. She briefly considered denying it, but Karl could already see the answer in her face.
“It wasn’t the way he probably claimed it was,” she said, keeping her voice even so the Deans brothers wouldn’t get any clues from her tone. “He beat Ida and raped me.” She wanted to continue, but Karl’s expression urged her to silence.
“Oh, God, Cat, I’m so sorry. So, the twins? And Ida, she must be deathly ashamed! If people find out, it’ll be a huge humiliation for her. In Raben Steinfeld, no one would have believed her. If she hurts herself now—”