Song of the Spirits (9 page)

Gwyneira was thrilled when Lake Wakatipu finally appeared before them and Queenstown came into view. The journey with a sullen Kura by her side had seemed to grow increasingly long over the last few days, and by the end, she had entirely run out of topics of conversation.
But the sight of the prim little town, the mountain backdrop, and the massive lake immediately revived her optimism. Perhaps Kura only needed some company her own age. She would certainly find common ground with her cousin Elaine, who had always struck Gwyneira as quite sensible. Maybe she would be able to set Kura’s head on straight. Her spirits buoyed, Gwyneira pulled ahead of the freight wagons and steered the elegant Owen onto Main Street. She received quite a bit of attention, and many settlers who knew her from previous stays called out greetings.

When she saw Helen’s former charge standing outside talking with a girl, Gwyneira finally brought the stallion to a halt in front of Daphne’s Hotel. She, too, had known Daphne for over forty years and had no reservations about interacting with her. Daphne’s appearance unsettled her a bit, however, as she seemed to have aged since Gwyneira’s last visit. Too many nights in a smoke-filled bar, too much whiskey, and too many men—in Daphne’s line of work, one aged quickly. The girl next to her, however, was a beauty, with long black hair and snow-white skin. It was a shame that she wore too much makeup and that her dress was so overloaded with flounces and frills that her natural beauty was not so much supported as submerged. Gwyneira asked herself how this girl had ended up in an establishment like Daphne’s.

“Daphne!” she called. “One has to grant you: you have an eye for pretty girls. Where do you get all of them?”

Gwyneira stepped out and gave Daphne her hand.

“They find
me
, Mrs. McKenzie.” Daphne smiled, returning her greeting. “Word gets around when the working conditions are right and the rooms are clean. Believe me, it makes the job much easier when only the boys sting you and not the fleas too. But even my Mona here is nothing compared to the girl with you! Is that your granddaughter Kura? Well, man alive!”

Daphne had only meant to cast a quick glance into Gwyneira’s chaise, but then her eyes had stuck on Kura, which was usually only the case with men. Kura didn’t respond, however; she stared straight ahead. Daphne was without a doubt one those women Miss Witherspoon had warned her about.

After her initial excitement, though, a look of concern crept across Daphne’s feline face.

“No wonder you have trouble with this girl,” she remarked quietly before Gwyneira climbed back into her carriage. “You should marry her off as quick as you can!”

Gwyneira gave a somewhat forced laugh and signaled her horse to trot onward. She was a little vexed. Daphne was unquestionably discreet, but just who might Helen and Fleurette have told that Gwyneira and Marama felt hopelessly outmatched?

Her anger dissipated, however, as she approached the facade of the O’Kay Warehouse and saw Ruben and Fleurette speaking with the freight wagon drivers. They both turned to her when they heard Owen’s powerful hoofbeats, and a moment later, Gwyneira was embracing her daughter.

“Fleur! You haven’t changed at all! I still always have the feeling that I’ve traveled back in time and looked in a mirror when I look you in the face.”

Fleurette laughed. “You don’t look as old as that yet, Mother. I’m just not used to seeing you not riding a horse. Since when do you travel by carriage?”

Whenever James and Gwyneira visited their daughter together, they liked to just saddle two horses, as they both still enjoyed nights together under a tent of stars. They preferred to travel during the summer, though, after the shearing and herding of the sheep up into mountain pastures, when the weather was considerably more consistent.

Gwyneira made a face. Fleurette’s observation had reminded her of her rather unpleasant journey.

“Kura doesn’t ride,” she said, trying not to sound disappointed. “So, where are George and Elaine?”

Elaine and William’s relationship had solidified in recent weeks. Which was hardly a surprise since they saw each other practically every day. Elaine also helped out in the O’Kay Warehouse, of course.
And after work or during their lunch break, there was always one excuse or another to be together. Elaine surprised her mother by suddenly throwing herself into an array of domestic activities. There was always a pie that needed baking so that she could casually offer William something for lunch, or she would invite him to a picnic after Sunday service and spend the entire day before preparing various treats. William now kissed her more often, which did not, however, lessen the kisses’ appeal. Elaine still felt faint with happiness whenever he took her in his arms, and she simply melted into them whenever she felt his tongue in her mouth.

Ruben and Fleurette tolerated the romance between their new bookkeeper and daughter with mixed feelings. While Ruben viewed the matter with a certain goodwill, Fleurette remained concerned. William had settled seamlessly into his new job. He was intelligent, he knew how to manage accounts and keep books, and he quickly learned the difference between managing a farm and a store. Beyond that, he won customers over with his fine manners. The women in particular were happy to have him wait on them. Ruben would not have had anything against a son-in-law like that—had he appeared a few years later. For the moment, however, Ruben O’Keefe was forced to agree with his wife. Elaine was too young for a more intimate relationship. He had no intention of allowing her to marry yet. As a result, it came down to the young man’s willingness to wait. If William could summon a few years’ patience, all would be well; if not, Elaine would be bitterly disappointed. While this was precisely what Fleurette feared, Ruben saw things more equanimously. With whom exactly was William going to run off? The other respectable girls in town were even younger than Elaine. And any of the new settlers’ daughters from the outlying farms were out of the question: Ruben did not think William the type to fall head over heels for a girl without means, with whom he would have to start from scratch. After all, the young man harbored few illusions about the ways of the world, a faculty to which he owed his position in the O’Kay Warehouse.

For that reason Ruben loosened the reins—and Fleurette acquiesced with gritted teeth. They both knew from their own experience
that young love could hardly be controlled. Their own story had been far more complicated than Elaine and William’s dalliance, and their father and grandfather’s resistance had been far greater than Fleurette’s displeasure. In spite of all that, they had come together. This country was large and societal control minimal.

Early in the morning on the day of Gwyneira’s arrival in Queenstown, Elaine and William had set off on a long errand together. William had offered to take a shipment of goods to a distant farm, and Elaine was accompanying him with a collection of clothing and petty wares from the store’s ladies’ department. The farmer’s wife would then be able to look at and try on the goods at her leisure—and ask Elaine’s opinion. It was a service that Fleurette had offered since the earliest days of the business—and one that the farm women had enthusiastically taken up. It offered isolated women not only the opportunity to shop but also a chance to catch up on the gossip and news from town, which always sounded different when it came from another woman’s mouth rather than from the wagon drivers.

Naturally, Elaine had organized a picnic for William, for which she had brought along a light Australian wine out of her father’s stock. The two of them feasted like royalty on an idyllic cliff by the lake while listening to the giant’s heartbeat that caused the water to rise and fall. Afterward, Elaine even allowed William to open her dress a little bit to caress the small buds of her breasts and cover them with little kisses. She was so fulfilled by this new experience that she could have joyfully embraced the whole world. She hardly took her hands off William, who—equally satisfied with the day’s course of events—serenely managed the team’s reins. That is, until the two mares raised their heads and whinnied at a dark-brown horse in front of the store. Elaine recognized the stallion right away.

“That’s Owen! My grandmother’s stud! Oh, William, it’s wonderful that she brought him. Banshee can have a foal now! And look, Caitlin and Ceredwen want to flirt. Isn’t that marvelous?”

Caitlin and Ceredwen were the cob mares pulling the light goods wagon, which could now only be kept in line with some effort. The four-legged ladies knew exactly what they wanted. William pursed
his lips indignantly. Elaine was unquestionably well-bred but sometimes she behaved like a common farmer’s daughter! How could she speak about breeding so brazenly and in public? He considered whether he should chide her, but Elaine had already sprung from the wagon and was hurrying over to the handsomely dressed older lady, easy to recognize as her grandmother. While Fleurette revealed what Elaine would look like at forty, Gwyneira now gave a view of her at sixty.

William vacillated between a smile and a sigh. This was the only drop of wormwood in his courtship with Elaine: if he decided to marry her, life would hold no more surprises for him. His work and private life would move forward like a train on the tracks.

He stopped the team behind one of the heavier wagons and was careful to secure the draft horses well. He took measured steps on his way to be introduced to Elaine’s grandmother, and her cousin. Probably another version of a redhead with hourglass form.

Meanwhile, Elaine was greeting her grandmother, who had just let go of Fleurette. From the look of it, she had just arrived.

Gwyneira kissed Elaine, pressed her tight to her, and then held her out for a moment to get a look at her.

“It’s definitely you, Lainie! And you’ve gotten so pretty, a real woman! You look just like your mother did at that age. And I hope you’re just as much of a tomboy too. If not, I’ve brought the wrong present… Where is it anyway? Kura, do you have the dog basket? What are you still doing in the carriage anyway? Come out and say hello to your cousin!” Gwyneira suddenly sounded a bit irritated. Kura did not have to make it so plain to all just how very little she cared about this visit to Queenstown.

But the girl had only been waiting for an invitation. Serenely and with lithesome, graceful movements, Kura-maro-tini Warden alighted from the carriage to take possession of Queenstown. And she noticed with satisfaction that her entrance did not lack for effect. Even on the faces of her aunt and cousin she detected a look of amazement that bordered on awe.

Elaine had only just begun to think of herself as pretty. Her love for William had done her good. She radiated from inside out; her skin was clean and rosy, her hair gleamed, and her eyes were more alert and expressive than before. Yet as soon as she found herself beside her cousin, she felt as if she had shriveled into an ugly duckling—as would any girl on whom nature had not lavished so many advantages as on Paul Warden’s daughter. Elaine was looking at a girl who towered over her by half a head, which was not merely because she held herself naturally erect and moved with feline grace.

Kura’s skin was the color of coffee generously mixed with thick, white cream. Her skin had a light-golden sheen that was warm and inviting. Kura’s straight, deep-black, waist-length hair shimmered in such a way that it looked like a curtain of onyx had fallen down over her shoulders. Her eyelashes and her gently curved black eyebrows made her eyes—big and azure-blue like her grandmother Gwyneira’s—all the more remarkable. Kura’s eyes, however, did not twinkle in the teasing or willful way that Gwyneira’s did, but instead looked calm and wistful, almost bored, which endowed her rare beauty with an aura of mystery. Her heavy eyelids further underscored the impression that she was dreaming and only waiting to be awoken.

Kura’s full lips were dark red and shimmered moistly. Her teeth were small, perfectly straight, and white as snow, making her mouth irresistible. Her face was narrow, her neck long and beautifully curved. She wore a simple burgundy traveling dress, but her body would have stood out even beneath the plainest frock. Her breasts were taut and full and her hips wide. They swayed lasciviously with every step; however, her movements didn’t seem practiced, as with Daphne’s girls. It looked as though Kura had been born with an innate sensuality.