Call of the Kiwi (57 page)

Jack hoped Gloria would come to him again, but she remained in her alcove, barricaded behind the thickest sleeping bag. Jack took the second bed in the cabin without protest; the ride through the cold and damp had affected him badly. He patiently drank the infusion Wiremu brought him.

“I don’t completely understand it,” Wiremu said. “She shared a tent with you, but her
e . . .
”

Jack shrugged. “In the hut, Wiremu? Wouldn’t that be taking it a little far?”

“Won’t you be getting married?” Wiremu asked. “I though
t . . .
”

Jack smiled. “It’s not up to me. And I don’t want to receive the same rebuff you did.”

Wiremu grinned painfully. “Watch out for your
mana
,” he responded.

The following evening they reached Kiward Station with thousands of sheep. Lilian and Elaine rode out to meet them.

Gloria looked bewildered when she saw her cousin again.

“Didn’t you disappear to Auckland?” she asked, looking Lilian over. She had hardly changed since she’d seen her last and still had the same mischievous, jaunty laugh.

“
You
were the one who disappeared,” Lilian replied. “I just eloped.” She, too, looked Gloria over, but she saw a completely different person from the heavyset, anxious, and grumpy girl from Oaks Garden. As Gloria sat self-assured in the saddle, her face flushed and marked by the hardships of the adventure, Lilian realized she had rarely seen such an interesting face. She should take note of it for her next book. A girl who travels half the world in search of her love. A new version of “Jackaroe.” But she had the vague feeling Gloria would never tell her the whole story.

Lily happily told Gloria about her life in Auckland and her baby, and Elaine gave them an update on Kiward Station. Jack and Gloria looked at each other silently, occasionally casting proud looks at the animals they herded ahead of them. When they reached the yard, the men were waiting to divide the sheep into the pens. Maaka was there to coordinate everything, but the men who had been part of the herding expedition only looked to Gloria. And Gloria looked to Jack.

“All right, good job, boys,” Jack said. “It’s nice to be back. We can all congratulate ourselves—Paora, Anaru, Willings, Beales. That was good work. I think we’ll talk to the boss about a little bonus.”

Jack looked at Gloria. Gloria smiled.

“I take it you’ve kept the shearing sheds for the ewes. We’ll herd the rams straight to the greens behind Bold’s Creek. And I don’t want to hear the word
tapu
anymore. If it stays dry, the sheep that have had their lambs can go to the circle of stone warriors tomorrow.”

As Jack calmly gave orders, Gloria and some of the men were already whistling for the sheepdogs to separate the flock.

“Maaka, will you take over? I’d like to say hello to my mother. By the looks of it, we’ve got a full house,” Jack said.

“A bath would be a good idea,” Gloria remarked as she dismounted. “I’ll take the horses to the stables, Jack. You go on ahead and warm up.”

As she led Ceredwen and Anwyl to the stables, Gwyneira flung open the door to the stalls from inside. Jack had been expecting his mother to be in the house—when they had visitors, she rarely found time to get things done around the stables. Gwyneira was wearing an old riding dress, and her face looked more youthful than Jack had seen it in years.

“Jack, Gloria.” Gwyneira ran toward them and hugged them both at the same time. She took no notice of the fact that Gloria embraced her stiffly and Jack only politely. All that would change with time, and there was time. In any case, their immediate response paled in comparison to what had just happened in the stables, which for Gwyneira was still a wonder after all these years.

“Come in, there’s someone who wants to say hello,” she said mysteriously, pulling them over to Princess’s stall. “He was just born,” Gwyneira said, pointing into the stall. Jack and Gloria pressed forward against each other.

Next to the riding pony stood a chocolate-colored stallion. A tiny white snip stood out between his nostrils, and he had a star on his forehead.

Gloria looked up at Jack. “The foal you promised me.”

Jack nodded. “It’ll be waiting for you when you finish washing up.”

Kiward Station had rarely seen such a large dinner party as on that evening. Jack greeted Roly with unusual heartiness and then sat down next to Gloria. Gwyneira sat beaming at the head of the table, holding her first great-great-grandson on her knee. Galahad drooled on her nicest dress and ruined her hair by pulling on it, but that sort of thing had never bothered Gwyneira. She looked at Gloria, pleased. The girl was wearing the pants outfit she had bought her in Dunedin. Lilian could hardly contain her excitement.

“It looks good on you,” Lilian said. “But the new fashion in dresses would too. I’ll show you some magazines.”

Gloria and Jack were quiet as usual, but it was not a quiet that provoked uneasiness. They did not seem to mind all the company. When they spoke, it was about Princess’s foal, who naturally reminded Lilian of Vicky.

“Unfortunately I had to leave her in Greymouth, though it would have been so much more romantic to flee on horseback. I’d love to have her at home. Can you take horses on the ferry, Daddy? Or do they get seasick?”

To Gwyneira’s great surprise Jack spoke up. In a quiet voice—as though he were no longer used to talking—he told them about the cavalry’s horses on the sea journey to Alexandria. “Once a day the ship would turn and sail against the wind in order to ease the heat. Even back then I thought they shouldn’t do that. That the horses had no business being at sea—and least of all in the war.”

“Maybe we’ll move back to the South Island,” Lilian considered. “It doesn’t matter where I write, and Ben has his pick. The University of Otago would go crazy for him.” Lilian gazed proudly at her husband.

Tim rolled his eyes, but Elaine caught him and shook her head admonishingly.

Gwyneira smiled benevolently.

Later they all gathered in the salon. Caleb and Ben were involved in yet another conversation about Maori myths. At one point, Ben pointed to Charlotte’s notes to make his argument—and Jack recognized with alarm that it was Charlotte’s last folder. His heart contracted. Could Gloria’s drawings have ended up in this stranger’s hand? Why had he not hidden them somewhere?

Ben Biller noticed his shocked gaze and interpreted it as disapproval.

“Do forgive me, Mr. McKenzie. Naturally we didn’t want to take the papers without your permission. But your mother did us the favor.”

Gloria followed Jack’s gaze.

Jack then turned to Gwyneira, who looked up and saw the horror in Gloria’s face.

“You two should come right over here,” Gwyneira said quietly. “Not to worry. Everything is safe. You don’t have to say a thing. I’d just like to give you both a hug. Now that you’re back.”

Before retreating upstairs for the night, Gloria kissed her great-grandmother on the cheek, something she had not done since she was a little girl. Gwyneira was moved to tears.

14

G
loria quietly pushed open the door to Jack’s room. She did not knock. She had never knocked as a child. Back then, she had worn a nightshirt and curled up with her protector so that she could go back to sleep without nightmares. Tonight, however, she threw off her bathrobe and slipped naked beneath the blankets. She trembled, and Jack thought he could hear her racing heartbeat.

“What do I need to do?” she asked quietly.

“Nothing at all,” Jack said, but she shook her head. Gloria pulled back her freshly washed hair; Jack raised his hand at the same time. Their fingers met and sprang apart as if electrified.

“I’ve already tried ‘nothing at all,
’ ”
Gloria whispered.

Jack stroked her hair and kissed her. First on the forehead, then the cheek, then on the mouth. She did not open her mouth for him but only held still.

“Gloria, you mustn’t do that,” Jack said softly. “I love you. Whether you sleep with me or not. If you don’t want t
o . . .
”

“But you want to,” Gloria murmured.

“That doesn’t matter. If it’s love, both partners have to want to. If only one of them enjoys it, it’s”—he could not find a word for it—“it’s wrong.”

“Did Charlotte like it the first time?” Gloria asked, relaxing a little.

Jack smiled. “Yes, even though she was a virgin when we married.”

“Even though?” Gloria asked.

“To me you’re a virgin, Gloria. You’ve never loved a man before. Otherwise you wouldn’t ask how it works.” Jack kissed her again, letting his lips wander over her throat and shoulder. Cautiously he stroked her breasts.

“Then show me,” she said quietly. She was still trembling, but grew calmer as he kissed her arms, her wrists, her rough hands, and her short strong fingers. He guided her hands over his face, encouraging her to stroke him too. He touched her gently and tentatively, as he would a shy horse.

Gloria’s fear expressed itself in the form of resignation. She did not stiffen—she must have discovered that the pain was more bearable when she relaxed her muscles—but Jack had to guard against her becoming a limp doll in his arms. He talked to her, murmured sweet nothings between caresses, and tried to touch her in a way that those men had not. When he finally pushed into her, she pressed her face to his shoulder and kissed him. He made love to her slowly, caressing and kissing her while he was inside her. Before he came, he rolled over and pulled her on top of him. He did not want to collapse on top of her like one of those lustful johns. She fell down beside him and curled against his shoulder as he caught his breath. Finally she dared a question. Her voice sounded anxious.

“Jack, is the reason you’re so slow, is it because you’ve been sick? Or that you are sick?”

Jack was completely taken aback. Then he laughed quietly.

“Of course not, Glory. And I’m not slow either. I just take my time because, because it’s nicer that way. Especially for you. Wasn’t it nice?”

“I don’t know. But if you do it again, I’ll try and pay attention.”

Jack pulled her close. “It’s not a scientific experiment, Glory. Try not to pay attention to anything. Except you and me.” He tried to think of an image to explain love to her, and suddenly he had Charlotte’s tender last note before his eyes.

“Think of Papa and Rangi,” he said softly. “It should be as if heaven and earth were becoming one—and did not want to separate again.”

Gloria swallowed. “Could I maybe be the heavens this time?”

For the first time she did not simply lie under a man but moved on top of Jack, kissing and stroking him as he had done for her. And then she did not pay attention to anything anymore. Heaven and earth exploded in pure ecstasy.

Gloria and Jack awoke wrapped tightly in each other’s arms. When Jack opened his eyes, he found himself gazing into two cheerful collie faces. Nimue and Tuesday had curled up at the foot of the bed and were clearly happy that their masters had woken up.

“We can’t make a habit of that,” Jack remarked with furrowed brow, motioning the dogs out of bed with a movement of his head.

“Why not?” Gloria mumbled drowsily. “I really liked it the second time.”

Jack kissed her awake and made love to her once more.

“Does it get better every time?” she asked afterward.

Jack smiled. “I try. But as for it being a habit, Gloria, could you see yourself married to me?”

Gloria snuggled closer to him. As Jack waited on pins and needles, she listened to the sounds of the waking house.

Jack and Gloria wanted a small wedding, but Gwyneira seemed disappointed when she heard that, and Elaine also protested heavily. She obviously felt she had been robbed of a big celebration for Lilian and now wanted to be included in the planning for Jack and Gloria’s wedding.

“A garden party,” Gwyneira decided. “The nicest wedding celebrations are always garden parties, and summer is right around the corner. You could invite everyone in the area. You have to anyway. After all, the heiress of Kiward Station is getting married. People will be expecting a big to-do.”

“But no piano music,” Gloria insisted.

“And no waltzes.” Jack was thinking of his first dance with Charlotte.

Gwyneira thought about her first dance with James. “No, no orchestra at all. Just a few people who can fiddle and play the flute. Maybe someone will even dance another jig with me.”

Ever since she had heard about Gloria and Jack’s engagement, Gwyneira looked years younger. She was as excited as a young girl about the wedding.

“And we won’t wait forever,” Jack said. “No six-month engagement or anything.”

“But we need to get the sheep to the highlands first,” Gloria said. “So not before December.”

One source of anxiety for Gloria was her wedding dress. She never had thought she looked attractive in a dress. And all the guests would compare her to Kura, whose simple silk gown and long, silky hair adorned with flowers had been described to her many times as a child. Gloria would have much preferred to walk down the aisle in riding pants.

Lilian came to the rescue. A lecture position had materialized for Ben in Dunedin, and she had planned a trip to the South Island to look around for a house. That was the official reason anyway. In reality, she went straight to Kiward Station and oversaw all the wedding-related details that her mother had not already claimed for herself. The revelation that there was still no wedding dress threw her into the greatest state of excitement.

“We’re going to Christchurch tomorrow to buy a dress,” Lilian said decisively. “And I already know exactly what you need.” She produced an English women’s magazine from her pocket and opened it to a page she had marked. Gloria cast an astounded eye over the loose flowing gowns made of light fabric, some of which were decorated with sequins and fringes that reminded her a bit of Maori dancing skirts. The new dresses only reached to the knee and had a flattering drop waist.

“It’s the latest fashion! There’s a new dance you do in them, the Charleston. And your hair needs to be just a touch shorter. Look, just like this girl. In fact, we can do that right now. Come with me.”

Lilian’s scissors flew so quickly and skillfully over Gloria’s rebellious head of hair that it reminded her of the men from the shearing companies. When Lilian had finished, Gloria could hardly believe the transformation. Her thick hair no longer stuck out from her head but flatteringly framed her face and emphasized her high cheekbones.

“Outstanding,” Lilian said. “I’ll handle your makeup for the wedding. And tomorrow we’ll buy that dress.”

This plan ran aground, however, because there was no Charleston dress to be found anywhere in Christchurch. In fact, the salespeople were shocked at the pictures.

“Shameless,” declared one piqued matron. “Something like that will never take off here.”

Gloria grew increasingly discouraged as she tried on a few other dresses.

“I look terrible.”

“The dresses are terrible,” Lilian declared. “My word, it’s like there was a contest to see which tailor could sew the most flounces onto a wedding dress. You look like a buttercream cake. No, something has to be done. Does anyone on Kiward Station have a sewing machine?”

“You don’t mean to sew it yourself, do you?” Gloria asked in horror.

Lilian giggled. “Of course not.”

Gloria told Lilian that the closest sewing machine was in Marama’s possession. It had been one of her son-in-law William’s last presents to her, and she had put it to good use sewing simple breeches and shirts for her sons.

“Wonderful,” Lilian cheered. “That model will wake some of Mrs. O’Brien’s old memories. She conjured up my mother’s wedding dress on a machine just like it. Can I place a quick call to Greymouth?”

Mrs. O’Brien, Roly’s mother, took the train for the first time in her life, arriving in Christchurch two days after Lilian’s call for help. After initially registering the same shock as the salespeople in the shops, she accepted the challenge and went about selecting the material she would need.

By the time Gloria actually got to try on the dress, Mrs. O’Brien did like it. And Lilian desperately wanted a similar one since she was to be the matron of honor. The dress transformed Gloria into a whole other woman. She looked taller and more grown-up, but also softer and more alluring. For the first time, she saw herself as slender, and she twirled around—as well as she could in the high-heeled shoes Lilian had insisted on.

“And instead of a veil, you need a hat like this with feathers,” Lily said, pointing to another magazine. She had been nervous about making this suggestion, but Gloria proved enthusiastic. “Can you manage that, Mrs. O’Brien?”

Jack grew increasingly quiet as the wedding day approached. Elaine and Lilian’s enthusiastic preparations reminded him too much of all the trouble Elizabeth and Gwyneira had gone to over his wedding with Charlotte. While Charlotte had enjoyed all the fuss, Gloria fled to the stables whenever she could.

“We should have eloped,” he remarked the evening before the wedding. “Lilian and Ben did it the right way: up and done with a signature from the civil registry in Auckland.”

Gloria shook her head. “No, it has to happen here,” she said in an unusually soft voice.

A letter from Kura and William Martyn had arrived the day before, a response to Gloria and Jack’s engagement announcement and invitation to their wedding. They could not attend, of course—and expressed pique that no one had taken their tour schedule into account when planning the event. Originally Gloria was annoyed by the letter, but Jack took the missive out of her hand, scanned it briefly, and laid it aside.