Song of the Spirits (42 page)

Elaine looked around her fearfully. Arama and Pita were taking care of the horses nearby. Pita had been the one to call her when Patrick arrived. But Thomas would not be away for long. He was overseeing some sort of work with the ewes and would undoubtedly coming storming back as soon as he learned of Patrick’s arrival. The young driver seemed to sense this, not even unharnessing his team. He wanted to be on his way home before getting into a fight with Thomas Sideblossom. But for the moment, Elaine was alone with him—and he was asking prying questions. Elaine wondered if he could see how unhappy she was. She knew she had lost weight and that her face looked sallow and was often marked by tears. She should say something. Patrick seemed only to be waiting for her confirmation. But she couldn’t confide in this young man! Her shame kept her from saying anything explicit, but perhaps she could manage a few hints.

“Sure, though… I’m often bored inside the house,” she beat around the bush.

“Then why do you stay inside?” Patrick asked. “Your mother thinks you should already have taken over the sheep husbandry here like your grandmother did at Kiward Station. And this little dog needs something to do!” Patrick was petting Callie.

Elaine blushed. “That would be nice. But my husband doesn’t want me—”

“What doesn’t your husband want?” Thomas’s booming voice interrupted Elaine’s stammering. He had appeared as if from nowhere on his stallion, looming like a vengeful god in front of Elaine and young Patrick. Pita and Arama disappeared forthwith into the stables.

“I was just explaining that you don’t want me helping with the sheep,” Elaine whispered. Thomas was not going to believe this harmless explanation, but unless Patrick was both blind and deaf, he would have to notice what was going on.

“I see. And perhaps your husband doesn’t want you flirting with errand boys either. I know you, boy; you accompanied her here. So there’s something between the two of you, is there?”

Thomas had sprung from his horse and was now approaching Patrick with a threatening look. Elaine was terrified when he grabbed Patrick by the collar.

It did not seem to scare Patrick at all, however. He looked prepared to pay Thomas back in kind. Yet Elaine couldn’t help but project her own panicky fright onto the young man. Thomas could hit Patrick, could kill him, and then…

Elaine’s fright erased her ability to think rationally. Frozen with fear, she observed the fight brewing between the two men. Thomas and Patrick exchanged angry words, but Elaine did not catch any of them. It was as though she were in a trance. If Thomas did anything to Patrick, if he were to make Patrick disappear, her parents would never know. There was no hope and…

Elaine trembled, thinking feverishly. Then something occurred to her. Ruben O’Keefe did not send his men out on the road completely defenseless. Although the South Island was not exactly a den of thieves, a supply wagon loaded down with valuable merchandise and occasionally with spirits could awaken covetousness. For that reason, a revolver lay under the seat of each of the O’Kay Warehouse’s delivery wagons. It was easily accessible there, and the driver could draw it with a single motion.

Awaking from her paralysis, Elaine moved closer to the delivery wagon’s box. Thomas and Patrick took no notice of her. They were still jostling and abusing one another—not really anything dangerous, but to Elaine’s overexcited imagination, their actions appeared quite threatening. She prayed the weapon was there, and it was: her hand touched cold steel right away. If I only I knew how to use the thing, she thought.

Then, suddenly—while Elaine was still weighing the weapon in her hand—the men backed down and their faces relaxed. Patrick O’Mally had evidently realized that it made little sense to get into a public-house fistfight with a sheep baron on his own farm. He thought
Thomas’s reaction to be way out of line, crazy even, but knew that it was best just to keep one’s distance from people like that. He would certainly tell Ruben O’Keefe about it though. It was high time someone with more influence than a driver looked into what was going on here.

Patrick said placatingly, “Fine, fine, now get ahold of yourself, man! I didn’t touch your lady, just brought her horse. We weren’t even alone. Your stableboys—”

“My stableboys are a no less lustful mob,” Thomas ranted, but he let Patrick return to his wagon. “You get out of here, you understand? If I ever see you on this farm again, I’ll put a load of lead in your hide!”

Elaine was still standing next to the box, but she stepped back hastily—hiding the weapon in the folds of her dress. It was not worth thinking about what Thomas would do if he found it on her. She should have given it back to Patrick, but the revolver felt good in her hand. It gave Elaine security—even if she did not yet know how to use it. At least she had it. She could hide it in one of her chests and figure out how it functioned later. Silently, she observed Patrick as he climbed onto the box and got the horses moving after a brief parting word accompanied by a meaningful look. Patrick had understood, she thought—he would send help.

In the meantime, however, Elaine’s situation worsened. Patrick’s visit seemed to have intensified Thomas’s madness. He hardly ever left Elaine unattended anymore. She panicked when she found the west wing locked the next day. She was even close to climbing out the window at one point.

Thomas avenged himself mercilessly for her brief conversation with the young driver. The day after Patrick’s visit, her body was so black-and-blue that she could not get out of bed. Pai and Rahera were beside themselves when they brought her breakfast.

“That’s not good!” Rahera said. “Not happen in my tribe.”

“In the orphanage we saw that,” Pai explained. “We were always beaten when we did something wrong. But not… you did not even do anything, Mrs. Sideblossom.”

Elaine waited until the girls were gone before dragging herself over to her chest of drawers and pulling out the revolver. It fit almost comfortingly in her little hands. Tentatively, she put her finger on the trigger. Could she manage to fire a weapon this big? But why not? She had observed men at target practice before. Though most of them used one hand, some of them aimed with both hands for greater accuracy. She could do that too. Elaine raised the revolver and aimed it at the ugly curtains. Wait, first she had to take the safety off. That was easily done. The gun was a primitive instrument. Elaine then figured out how to load it. Not that it mattered. She would not be getting more than the six cartridges already in their chambers anyway. And she knew that she would never be able to fire off more than one before Thomas took the weapon from her. So there could be no test firing. Elaine put the weapon back.

But from that moment on, she thought about it every hour of her miserable life. Until then, she had always held out hope that help would come, like for the girls in the penny novels and magazines or even the heroines in famous books. However, she was no character in a novel but a person of flesh and blood. She did not have to wait for a knight to come to her rescue: she had a gun, and she had a horse. She did not seriously consider shooting her way out of there, but with the revolver in her bag, she would feel stronger, just as she had already felt stronger with it hidden in the chest in her room—despite all the abuse she suffered. She would shoot Thomas dead before she let him beat her to death. She felt the wish to do so every night. But of course it was ridiculous to think she could take the weapon out while Thomas abused her. Elaine would have to hide the thing under the bedsheet, and she lacked the courage for that. She dared not think about what would happen if she made a mistake and the weapon did not fire. No, it was better to look for a moment when she could escape unnoticed. She would ride to Queenstown and attempt to get a divorce.

Elaine’s fear exceeded her sense of shame. It would be embarrassing to confide in a judge—but she now feared for her life.

While Zoé awaited the birth of her child and Emere practiced playing her flute again—though there were no more “visits” from John Sideblossom, perhaps she was conjuring magic for her unborn child—Elaine forged her plans for escape. Maybe she would leave when the sheep were being herded back down from the highlands. Thomas would be gone for at least two days. The stableboys were on her side, and Zoé and Emere would not be able to stop her if she rode away with enough determination. But that was still a long way off. Elaine forced herself to be optimistic. It was possible that help would come from Queenstown first.

But only a week after Patrick’s visit, an opportunity to leave Lionel Station presented itself. The day before the shearing companies arrived, Thomas and John had their hands full. Each of them would be overseeing a shearing company, a task they were loath to give to anyone else, despite the fact that the “orphans” could count and write perfectly. Zoé complained that John was abandoning her when her time was nearly at hand. She did not look well and demanded the services of the entire house’s staff. To Elaine’s annoyance, even Pai and Rahera had been summoned to help, this despite the fact that her maids generally had no involvement with Zoé. On the other hand, Elaine suddenly found herself entirely unsupervised for the first time since her arrival at Lionel Station. She immediately began to think about saddling Banshee and trying to flee. But it struck her as too risky. Thomas’s horses were faster than Banshee. If she only had a three- or four-hour advantage, they would catch up to her.

Then her luck turned in her favor: Zoé’s labor began around midday. The young woman began to bleed heavily and started to panic.
Emere sent for John to receive instructions, and then she withdrew, as she said, to ask the spirits for a happy delivery.

When John heard about Zoe’s labor, he unleashed his rage on nearly every Maori girl or woman present, then sent frantic messengers off to Wanaka to drum up a midwife somewhere. He posted himself in Zoé’s room, apparently seriously concerned about his wife—or at least the baby, who he surely assumed would be a boy. Between the two of them, husband and wife kept the entire house and kitchen staff occupied. Zoé alternated between asking for tea or water in a weak voice and screaming hysterically whenever she was seized by a labor pain. She was obviously terrified and called crossly for Emere, who did not appear.

Everyone seemed to have completely forgotten about Elaine. No one was watching over her, and Thomas hadn’t locked her apartments that day. The farm could not spare him. Since his father was keeping watch outside Zoé’s bedroom—having emptied half a bottle of whiskey and alternatingly cursing and lamenting—the management of the sheepshearers had been left to Thomas and his foremen. And since the Sideblossoms did not trust their foremen, Thomas would hardly move from the shearing sheds.

While Elaine pretended to be doing some needlework, her thoughts were racing. Could she bring herself to do it? If she could get Banshee out of the stables unnoticed, she could be in Queenstown in three days. She was not even worried about the route, because the horse would undoubtedly be able to find the path back to its old home. The mare did not yet feel at home in the Sideblossoms’ stables, and if she were allowed to have free rein, she would probably race home as fast as she could. It wouldn’t be easy to escape the pursuers who would follow later, but with a six- to eight-hour advantage, she could do it. Banshee was strong. She would not need to rest long. The prolonged ride would be harder on Elaine than the horse. But that was of no consequence. Elaine would have ridden day and night to get home. Whatever else happened, she would never return to Thomas. Her parents would undoubtedly support her. After all, Fleurette knew from her own experience what kind of people the Sideblossoms were.