by Sarah Lark
Ida elbowed her husband, smiling. “That’s your duty as a sheep baron,” she joked. “The squire of Raben Steinfeld didn’t let his daughters get married in the village church either.”
“I’m terribly afraid the queen won’t be able to come to the wedding, even though I’m sure Deborah is going to invite her,” Chris said with a wink.
Franz was surprised and touched when Ida insisted on seeing him to the ship. Karl didn’t have time. He wanted to use every moment before he left to help Chris with farm work. He was struggling with regret about the decision to move; he and Ida had been so happy at Rata Station.
However, Linda joined Franz and Ida, which warmed the young missionary’s heart. He’d been avoiding his niece all week. Now he regarded his feelings of humiliation in Christchurch as a punishment from God for his infatuation with a relative, and prayed every evening for forgiveness.
But when Linda arrived at the pier wearing a flowing summer dress, Franz was overwhelmed with sinful feelings all over again. This time, her hair was hidden under a straw hat, and her eyes shone. The way they sparkled with excitement almost hurt Franz physically. He didn’t know what had made Linda want to come along to Lyttelton, but it was clear that she wasn’t particularly sad about bidding him farewell. At least Ida seemed moved. When it was finally time for him to board the ship, his sister embraced him with tears in her eyes.
“I wish you well, Franz. Write to me! Write often, please. I want to know how you’re doing. And please, take this. I know you’ll think it’s pretentious, but please keep it. Don’t give it away . . .”
Ida pulled a necklace out of the front of her dress, which surprised Franz. She didn’t normally wear jewelry. But now she opened the clasp of a valuable-looking, heavy gold chain, which was attached to a cross decorated with precious stones. She pressed it into his hand.
“I can’t accept this!” he cried. “This is a cross for a bishop. It would be pure arrogance for a simple missionary to wear such a thing.”
“Then hide it away,” Ida said. “Please, I want you to keep it. To remember me by. I got it from a very dear friend, and I’d planned for Carol to inherit it one day, but I can leave other jewelry to her. This is for you!”
Franz wondered why she wanted Carol to have the cross and not Linda, who was listening without the least sign of envy. Apparently, she didn’t mind that Ida intended to put her twin sister first.
He reached reluctantly for the piece of jewelry. “I will cherish it,” he said formally.
With relief, Ida kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll see each other again soon! Karl and I will stop in Opotiki on our way to Russell. Then we’ll be able to see where you work. Herr Voelkner is a nice man. He—”
“Ida, you don’t have to worry about me,” Franz said with dignity. “God will protect me. I will do his work. Even if there’s an uprising on the North Island, the Lord will protect his own.”
Ida wished she could believe that. But since Sankt Pauli Village had been washed away, she couldn’t trust in the Lord’s help blindly anymore. But she nodded anyway, and willingly said a prayer of farewell. Then she waved to her brother as the ship cast off.
Linda cheerfully joined in. She was wearing a colorful shawl with her dress, and now she took it off and waved it back and forth in wide arcs. Franz was still watching her as the ship left the harbor, and his heart was heavy. But then he made up his mind to forget the young woman. He had important tasks ahead of him.
“Finally!” Linda said with a sigh of relief, after the ship had disappeared beyond the horizon. “I really do like him. When he’s not endlessly praying or trying to atone for imaginary sins, he’s a very nice fellow. In the end, it seemed like he found it hard to say goodbye. Now stop crying, Mamida; he hasn’t disappeared from the face of the earth. As you said, you’ll see him again soon.”
“I hope he’ll actually keep the cross,” Ida said, snuffling. The jeweled cross was one of two valuable pieces that Cat had kept out of the inheritance she’d received from her motherly friend, Linda Hempleman. Cat had kept a medallion-shaped one for herself, which she wanted to leave to her daughter, Linda, one day. “I’m worried he might sell it and donate the money. Missionaries aren’t supposed to have any worldly possessions.”
“You’ll just have to bug him about it every time you visit,” Linda said brightly. “And now I’m hungry! What do you think? Shall we treat ourselves to a lovely lunch?”
They were approaching the rowing club in the boat Ida had chartered for the return from Lyttelton. At Linda’s behest, the oarsman steered toward the boathouse pier instead of the one closer to the restaurant. Too distracted to notice, Ida disembarked and paid the oarsman while Linda looked around for Joe Fitzpatrick. She wanted to feel the strength of his hand again as he helped her onto dry land. But Fitz was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a young blond man was lowering an eight-man scull into the water.
Linda climbed out by herself and approached him. “Where is Mr. Fitzpatrick?” It would be a pity if Fitz just happened to have the day off!
The young man shrugged. “Gone.”
“Gone how?” Linda asked.
“Just gone. Apparently, he got too cheeky. Talked too much.”
The same thing couldn’t be said for his successor.
“Do you mean he was fired?” Linda inquired unhappily.
The man nodded.
“Do you happen to know where he is now, or what he’s doing?”
Another shrug. “No, miss. He made a big scene when they threw him out. Ranted and made threats, things like that. And now he’s gone.”
“So, he isn’t training rowers anymore either?” Linda said, grasping at straws.
He shook his head again. “No, he’s forbidden to come back, after everything he said to the management. Cheeky, as I said.” The young man turned back to his work.
Linda followed her adoptive mother to the restaurant with a heavy heart. She had lost her appetite. It looked like her romance with Fitz had ended before it began.
Part 3
LOSS
CANTERBURY PLAINS, LYTTELTON, AND CHRISTCHURCH, NEW ZEALAND (THE NORTH ISLAND)
CAMPBELLTOWN, NEW ZEALAND (THE SOUTH ISLAND)
1863–1865
Chapter 17
“Of course you’re coming!” Cat turned determinedly to Carol. “And I don’t want to hear another word about it. There’s no way we’re going to leave you alone here for three weeks. And it’ll do you good to see a bit more of the world, especially with the wedding coming up. You and Linda have hardly been anywhere.”
The argument was about a trip they’d planned to Southland, the southernmost tip of the South Island, which was known for its exceptionally beautiful fjords and mountains. A sheep breeder who’d visited Rata Station last year had invited them all to his oldest son’s wedding.
“It’s not just about seeing Southland,” Carol said cheekily. “Halliday wants us to meet his younger sons.”
Cat shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. Yes, I know you have Oliver and you never want to even look at another man again. But Linda is still unattached. If Frank and Mainard Halliday look like wetas and behave like keas, she can just have one dance and forget about them. But if they turn out to be just as nice and well mannered as their father, then it’s entirely possible that Linda could fall in love with one of them.”
“Then just take Linda!” Carol insisted. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the farm. If we all go, Rata Station will be abandoned.”
Karl and Ida had departed for the North Island several days before. Mara was still living with the Redwoods. In spite of the assurances her parents had made to Jane, the girl had vehemently refused to accompany her parents. She was obviously not interested in having the entire Cook Strait between her and Eru, even if there was no chance of seeing him in the near future.
Cat smiled sarcastically. “I appreciate your concern. But the farmhands will manage just fine for a little while without us. In case of an emergency,
they can always turn to Jane and Te Haitara. Then maybe Jane will sell our breeding ram to the highest bidder and we’ll be millionaires when we get back! Really, though, nothing will go wrong. Most of the sheep are in the highlands, anyway. And Oliver will survive a few weeks without you. If you stayed here alone, he wouldn’t be allowed to visit, anyway. That would only ruin your reputation. Seriously, Carrie, I’d be much happier if you weren’t constantly glued together.”
Now that it was summer, Oliver didn’t have any trouble making the ride to Rata Station. Plus, he didn’t have to go to Christchurch to practice rowing anymore. He didn’t know where Joe Fitzpatrick was either, but didn’t seem very sad about his missing friend. Oliver didn’t make plans very far in advance, and it would be at least nine months until the next regatta. Carol, on the other hand, wanted him immediately. Once the couple had celebrated their wedding night early, he had gone to great lengths to repeat the experience. He had spent almost all of the previous week at Rata Station, constantly badgering Carol and keeping her from her work with the horses and dogs.
That bothered Cat, even though she knew it didn’t make much sense. In two months, Carol would be married and training sheepdogs at Butler Station. Deborah Butler wouldn’t like that, but they had made it clear a long time ago that Carol would bring Fancy to her new home. The dog’s entire first litter would be returned to Rata Station afterward, fully trained.
Cat didn’t entirely know why she didn’t like to see Carol and Oliver together. Even if they were sleeping together, the wedding was in just two months, so the child would be born in wedlock. But the better Cat got to know Oliver and his family, the less sure she was that he and Carol actually fit together. Of course, everything related to the farm and the inheritance fit, and they had known for some time that Oliver wasn’t particularly smart or industrious. But she was worried about the young man’s obvious self-absorption, his indifference to the disappearance of his friend Fitz, his unreliability, and his complete disinterest in the farm and his father’s work. She was also deeply bothered by Deborah Butler’s behavior. The woman’s aristocratic airs got on Cat’s nerves, and her tendency to wasteful extravagance was terrifying. Perhaps, Cat told herself, Captain Butler still had unlimited reserves from his time as a whaling captain.
But she had difficulty believing that. Butler Station was flourishing just like Rata Station and all the other halfway well-run sheep farms. They provided their owners with a high standard of living, but was it enough to keep up a gigantic manor house like the Butlers’, with its huge staff? Was it enough to maintain the park and pay the English gardener?
The furnishings for Carol and Oliver’s future “suite” had just arrived from England. Carol had been allowed to briefly admire their grandeur, and had admitted afterward that she’d felt suffocated by the sumptuous, heavy furniture. There were sideboards, tables, and bookcases of mahogany; thickly upholstered armchairs and chaise lounges; and richly ornamented grandfather clocks. Not to mention a porcelain dinner service, and sheets and tablecloths made of the finest satin, damask, and linen.
“If Fancy jumps on the bed, it’ll probably be ruined immediately,” Carol said worriedly.
Cat was more concerned about the price. The Butlers had already spent a fortune, and now they wanted to pay for part of the expensive wedding reception in Christchurch as well. But Ida and Karl had drawn the line there. They could live with St. Michael’s and the White Hart Hotel. But more than a hundred guests, a five-course menu, and limitless French champagne? Karl had said bluntly that he couldn’t and didn’t want to pay for it all. But he didn’t want the Butlers to pay for it either; it was a matter of not only pride but also common sense for him. And now Oliver was talking constantly about a honeymoon in Europe, and Deborah Butler seemed to be encouraging the idea. If Captain Butler didn’t stop them soon, in the end Carol wouldn’t inherit a sheep barony but a mountain of debt, with Oliver as its inept manager. Would he allow Carol to take over the responsibility for it then? Cat got the impression he was just as narrow-minded and old-fashioned as his mother when it came to the division of labor between men and women.
But Carol didn’t want to think about any of that. She was blindly in love with Oliver, and of course it would be almost impossible to cancel the wedding now, even if she’d wanted to. Still, Cat clung to the vague hope that the trip to Southland would work wonders. It was possible that Carol would spontaneously fall for Frank or Mainard Halliday—perhaps both sisters would discover that the brothers were the loves of their lives!
“Start packing, Carol,” Cat told her adopted daughter determinedly. “You and your sister certainly have plenty of options to choose from. The dresses Deborah had made for the wedding should suffice for all the festivities in the next ten years.”
Deborah had taken the girls into town and outfitted Linda, the maid of honor, no less elegantly than Carol. However, the bills for all of Linda’s party dresses, tea gowns, travel outfits, and hats had been sent to Rata Station. Chris and Cat had financed them reluctantly. After all, it was nothing compared to the cost of the trousseau that Deborah Butler had paid for.
Cat had also bought herself new clothes to wear at Carol’s wedding, and was glad to have them for Ralph Halliday’s festivities. Just the journey by ship to Campbelltown would offer opportunities to dress up. Chris had booked them passage on a very modern sailing vessel. The General Lee offered every imaginable comfort, from three-course menus to evening balls.
“You didn’t have to book first class,” Cat said as she entered the luxurious cabin, feeling torn. “Really, Chris, this is too expensive!”
Chris laughed. “I think we should indulge in something like this at least once,” he said. “We’ve never traveled together, aside from driving the sheep to the highlands. And I know how much you love soft beds and champagne. Just think of it as our honeymoon.”
Cat furrowed her brow. “Is that some kind of proposal?” Years ago, Cat had sworn that she’d never give up her freedom.
Chris shrugged. “I’d need a formal divorce from Jane. But it’s possible, Cat. Perhaps we should think about it.”
Cat smiled and shook her head. “I’m very satisfied with what I have. And don’t forget, a proper wedding for sheep barons would mean a celebration in Christchurch with hundreds of guests. We would drive Rata Station into eternal debt.”
Chris sighed theatrically. “I knew you’d say that. But we’re still traveling today as Mr. and Mrs. Fenroy. The shipping company doesn’t rent first-class cabins to unmarried couples.”
Linda and Carol had also settled into their cabin, which was no less luxurious. An hour later, they met Cat and Chris on deck as the General Lee got underway. During the trip to Lyttelton, Carol had been sullen and hadn’t spoken much, but now she seemed to have come to terms with the situation. She looked very pretty in her travel ensemble. The girls had decided on blue outfits for the occasion. Carol’s was sky blue with dark blue buttons and trim, and Linda’s had yellow trim. They played happily with their matching parasols, which were currently very fashionable. For their work on the farm, Linda and Carol mostly wore wide-brimmed hats, which served as protection from both sun and rain. The girls’ skin was always lightly tanned in summer, and made a fetching contrast to their blonde hair. And it looked as though they had already found a male admirer. A young man in an officer’s uniform was hovering close by.
“Truly, ladies, you will not be disappointed,” he said enthusiastically. “Fiordland is exceptionally beautiful. When the mountains are reflected in the water, it looks like the clouds are drifting across the bottom of the sea. It’s like a fairy tale. One wouldn’t be surprised to see elves and dwarves dancing in the sunlight and basking in the moonlight.”
“You’re a poet, Lieutenant Paxton!” Carol said cheerfully.
The young man smiled. “I’m just a man who loves his home. Perhaps it’s been too long since I’ve seen it.”
“Are you from Campbelltown?” Chris asked. “I’m Chris
Fenroy. I’m a sort of father to these two young ladies.”
The young man immediately turned to greet Chris and Cat. “William Paxton,” he said. “But you can call me Bill. Lieutenant Bill Paxton. I do have family in Campbelltown, though I wasn’t born there. My parents live on Milford Sound. It’s the most beautiful part of New Zealand, sir, and I know what I’m talking about.”
The young officer met their gaze openly. He was of medium stature, slender, and muscular. The uniform clung perfectly to his well-toned physique. Paxton had smooth dark hair, an oval face, and brown eyes that seemed almost too kind and gentle for a soldier. Perhaps it was because they still glowed with memories of home.
“Lieutenant Paxton was stationed on the North Island,” Linda explained. “He was telling us about Taranaki and the battles with the Maori.”
“Taranaki is supposed to be at peace again,” Cat said. It made her very uncomfortable to hear about fights between the Maori and the pakeha. She felt loyal to both parties, and enjoyed helping them communicate with each other.
“Indeed, Mrs. Fenroy,” Paxton replied, sounding less than convinced. “Even if there is still occasional dissonance. But I didn’t want to bore the young ladies with unpleasant details. Actually, I was just telling them about the loveliness of Milford Sound. Have you ever seen seals, Miss . . . ?”
“Linda and Carol Brandmann,” Carol said, introducing her sister and herself. “No, we’ve never seen seals before. We live on a sheep farm.”
As she spoke, the young woman gazed back toward Lyttelton. The General Lee was leaving the harbor surrounded by green hills, and turning south. The sailors were hoisting more sails, which filled with wind immediately. It looked as though the ship would make good progress.
“Perhaps we can continue our discussion over dinner,” Cat suggested.
Lieutenant Paxton nodded. “It would be my pleasure to accompany the two young ladies to the table,” he replied, and offered an arm each to Linda and Carol. “I’ve heard the cook is a genius. But I’m also biased, because he’s my cousin.”