Claire's Prayer

by Yvonne Cloete

  Impunzi had then remained a cattle ranch until Seth took over, three years ago. During the war years, farmers and ranchers had had to make a difficult decision: ought they to sell their land and move away from the conflict, or try to see the war through even at the cost of stolen livestock, volatile work forces and, at times, threats to their own lives? Seth spoke with pride of his parents’ decision to stay, and his own pragmatism: he described how, after the damage done to his herds, workforce and family he had transformed Impunzi from a cattle ranch to a big game viewing and fishing resort. He still even had a good enough dairy herd, he told Claire, to make the ranch practically self sufficient. Eighteen months ago, Seth said, he had branched out on his newest venture, that of fencing off a section of virgin bushland and building ten residential lodges, set in with the natural bush. The project had taken off in a big way, as people always needed places to go where they could escape the rat race and get back to nature.

  Within the hour, Claire was sold on Zimbabwe – and on Seth Henderson. A man who could love his homeland with such deep devotion and commitment must, she decided, be a good, solid type of person. Then, as they left the restaurant, Claire noticed that many a female eye followed Seth as he made his way to the door. It suddenly dawned on her what a magnificent-looking man he was. Her eyes clung to his proud head, dark hair curling onto his collar; they moved down, taking in broad, solid shoulders and strong arms. His shirt, stretched taut across his wide back, could not conceal the muscularity of his torso.

  A soft blush stained Claire’s cheeks. What are you thinking?, she scolded herself. There were countless reasons that becoming infatuated with Seth was a disastrous idea: she had come to Impunzi to commune with nature, and with God, and to recover as best she could from the loss of her parents. Now she found herself acting like a teenager after one car journey? Claire caught a glimpse of her reflection in the restaurant window, and rolled her eyes at herself. Just for a second she allowed herself to ponder why Rory had never elicited such a strong reaction from her. She would put this down to her deep emotional vulnerability. It was only natural, she supposed, that she would be drawn to a strong, protective presence. Taking her eyes forcefully off Seth, Claire vowed to herself that she would not lose control of her scruples. Her morals were all she had left to guide her. Unaware of her intense regard, Seth wondered at Claire’s flushed countenance as he held open the car door for her.

  Claire settled against the cool upholstery and wished the travelling was over. She felt bone weary. A new cassette whirred into life, and the mellow voice of Elton John filled the quickly-warming interior of the BMW. Claire relaxed, and caught the words of the song instructing her to ‘reach out for the healing hands’. The significance of the lyrics left her feeling safe and secure. Claire knew that God had healing hands and that, in time, her hurt and pain would fade, leaving only the golden memories. It was watching Seth’s powerfully tender hands on the steering wheel, however, that Claire drifted back to sleep.

  Under an hour later, Seth pulled up in front of the Bulawayo Sun Hotel, where rooms had been booked for the night. Claire, in a state of near exhaustion, barely registered the acts of signing in and being shown to her room. She took a quick, hot bath and crawled beneath the covers.

  Claire awoke to the sounds of traffic and people. Answering a knock on the door, she almost drooled as she saw the tea tray. A brief note in bold writing accompanied her tea, informing her that Seth would meet her at eight o’clock, in the dining room, and that they would leave for Impunzi directly after breakfast. Washing quickly and changing into the new figure-hugging Guess jeans and shoulder-baring top of which she’d thought so little before arriving in Zimbabwe, Claire grabbed her bag and reached the reception desk just as a sleepy-looking Seth walked out of the lift.

  “Morning, Claire. Did you sleep well?”

  Smiling openly at him, Claire assured Seth that she had, indeed, “Slept like a log.”

  At breakfast, Seth watched in amazement as Claire cleared her plate and then enjoyed toast and marmalade. “Where do you put it all, Claire?” he asked laughingly, eying her petite waist.

  Pretending offence, Claire glared at him and said, sweetly, “I ate no more than you did, Seth Henderson.”

  Opening his eyes wide, Seth lifted his hands in an action of surrender, looking comically from his large frame to her slender one.

  Pulling a face at him, Claire finished her toast and asked if they still had far to go. Impunzi, she was told, was sixty kilometres from Hwange, and its boundaries bordered the National Park. Claire felt a stirring of excitement at the thought of seeing the wildlife of the National Park in its natural habitat. Soon they were on the outskirts of Bulawayo, making a start on their five-hour journey. Claire decided she liked the laid-back, unhurried way of life Zimbabwe seemed to offer.

  Sliding behind the wheel of the BMW, Seth stifled a yawn. He, unlike Claire, had not slept well. Perhaps because of his intense periods of reflection the day before, Seth’s memories would not leave him alone. In dreams he had tossed and turned, reliving not only his parents’ deaths and the darkest years of the war, but earlier recollections – worse recollections. He wasn’t ready to face those, yet.

  Sensing Seth’s troubled mood, Claire took her turn as narrator and spoke of her childhood. She spoke with love of Dublin, her birthplace, describing a city from which so many writers and poets had drawn inspiration – with its narrow medieval streets and castles juxtaposed against the beauty of Georgian architecture. She also spoke of the modern Dublin in which she’d grown up, with its fashionable shops, the vibrant nightlife of its welcoming pubs, famous for their creamy pints of Guinness, and no shortage of ‘craic’ – which, Claire explained, was Irish slang for ‘good times’. She also spoke fondly of family holidays in the west of Ireland, famous for its unique coastlines and rugged, beautiful countryside, and of the rare occasions its beaches had remained sunny for their visits.

  Claire spoke tenderly of her parents, Aunt Ellen and Kacey, painting a picture in Seth’s mind of a happy life, and a love-filled home: a Christian home, and a faith Claire spoke about both naturally and joyfully. Seth listened with a skepticism tinged with fascination. He had heard his share of Bible fanatics, but Claire spoke about God as if he were a personal friend of hers. He found that words like ‘prayer’ came easily from her lips. Each to their own, he thought.

  As the sun rose high in the azure sky, Seth slowed down the car and pulled up under the most enormous tree Claire had ever seen.

  “What a strange tree, Seth! What’s it called?” Claire asked in curiosity. Opening the car’s rear door, Seth extracted a picnic basket, rug and thermos before answering her.

  “This grand old upside-down tree is called a baobab – there are quite a lot of them around here.”

  Leaving her to spread out the rug and unpack the cold lunch he’d had the hotel prepare that morning, Seth wandered off. He returned shortly with a green, oval, hairy-looking seedpod, about the size of an avocado. Grinning at Claire, he suddenly cracked the fruit with a rock, giving her a fright. The broken shell revealed white particles, compacted together and separated by what looked like orange netting. Popping a section into his mouth, Seth offered the fruit to her. Aware that Seth was watching her closely, Claire took a small segment and put the tip of her tongue to it. Finding first impressions inoffensive, she popped the – fruit, was it? – into her mouth.

  For a few too many seconds Seth was speechless. Unwillingly, he had been fascinated by her mouth, exploring and probing this foreign body, and savouring its taste. “Don’t chew it, just suck it,” Seth finally instructed, croakily. “There’s a pip inside, which you have to spit out.” So saying, he catapulted a pip from his own mouth.

  Claire was still preoccupied by the new sensation she was experiencing. It was so rare, she thought abstractedly, ever to taste something you could barely have imagined before. The fruit was tart, but not too sour… Then it was gone. Claire removed the pip from her mouth
thoughtfully. She decided, upon reflection, that she would prefer some cold chicken and salad.

  “So what did you think of the taste of natural cream of tartar?” Seth asked, helping her to open the lunch containers.

  “So that’s why it tasted familiar!” Claire sighed, laughing at herself. “For a minute there, I thought I was tasting some old herbal cure-all or something. Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

  Suppressing a grin, Seth passed her a paper plate. “Starving again, are you? It’s a pity we couldn’t have been doing something more interesting than driving to work up your appetite!”

  Claire opened her mouth to speak, but quickly looked away again, flushed.

  Seth blushed, too. “More of a nature hike, I mean,” he added quickly.

  Seeing Seth’s embarrassment, Claire recovered herself and, smiling quickly at him, tucked in. Half an hour later, enjoying a second mug of tea, Claire was asking again about Impunzi.

  “So, how many other guests will be staying?” she enquired.

  “We don’t have any guests at the moment,” Seth responded quickly. “We close for maintenance during the coldest months.”

  Claire frowned in confusion. “But… how come I’m on my way to Impunzi if it’s closed for maintenance?” She watched him shift position on the bench and realized Seth was reluctant to answer her.

  Meeting her frank gaze, he replied, “Quite honestly, we wouldn’t normally have any guests on the ranch at this time of the year. There’s only a skeleton of staff. But, well… Don and Helen called and explained, and so here you are. Your Aunt… Ellen, is it?” Claire nodded, and he continued, “… has paid for a lodge for the next two months. So, it being a relatively long-term booking for only one person, Naomi and I made an exception.”

  Looking away from him, Claire said, softly, “Well, thanks for making the exception. Don’t worry; I’ll be no trouble. I have deadlines to meet and books to complete.”

  “No problem,” Seth stated with a smile, as they finished their lunch. Short minutes later, he began to repack the basket. “So, you write, do you? What’s your style?”

  Helping him, Claire answered, “I have my own line of children’s books that I’m expanding on. I create characters, try to include a moral, and illustrate my books myself.”

  Having taken the rug from her, Seth was shaking it out. He couldn’t hide his surprise. “You do all that? Impressive. How long have your books been in the book stores?”

  “Oh, it’s no big thing,” Claire answered, modestly; “I’ve always loved writing. I’m just glad my hobby paid off! This way I do something I really love – and get paid for it, too. My editor’s waiting impatiently for some new material. He thinks Africa will inspire me. I guess I’m just lucky I can get away – that I don’t have to worry too much about my finances now my parents left everything to me.” Claire came to a halt. “I miss them so much.” She sniffed softly and gazed off into the trees, embarrassed by her show of emotion.

  The pair of them slid into the car. Starting it, Seth stated, “Not long now, Claire. In just over an hour we’ll be there.” Claire noted that Seth’s voice was filled with satisfaction. “Naomi should be there to meet us. I think you two’ll get on brilliantly.”

  Naomi, thought Claire. Seth had mentioned her name several times. Was Naomi Seth’s secretary, his aged aunt – or his wife? For some reason, Claire could not bring herself to ask. She’d find out soon enough, anyway. As Impunzi came ever closer, Claire’s excitement mounted. This place was, at the moment, only a name to her, but she knew somewhere deep inside that Impunzi was special, and would in some way affect her life. Little did Claire know with what poignancy this premonition would come true.

  Finally slowing down as the car approached their turning ahead, Seth half-turned to Claire. “You are an excellent travelling companion, Claire. Your reward, one pot of steaming-hot tea, will be presented to you in about fifteen minutes.”

  Realising how close to Impunzi they must be, Claire sat up and looked intently around her. She noticed a large, ochre-coloured signboard, swaying in the wind, supported by two long poles. Her breath caught expectantly as she read the bold, slanting words painted on it: ‘Impunzi Game Viewing and Fishing Resort.’ The BMW left the tar road, and Claire watched as billows of dust flew out behind them. She noticed a new denseness in the bush veldt.

  Suddenly, Seth slowed right down, and cautioned Claire to silence by putting a finger on his lips. Slowly, he leaned towards her and pointed out of the window at something he had spotted. Claire’s untrained eyes could not see the animal, whatever it was, so well was it camouflaged. For a long moment, Claire was no longer quite so interested in seeing an animal in the wild, her overriding reason for having travelled to Zimbabwe, as in the radiating heat and wild, male smell of Seth. One of his arms rested against the back of Claire’s seat, and the other stretched out in front of her with pointed finger. Then, she did see the magnificent antelope, standing motionless beneath a thorn tree. Leaning closer, Seth whispered in her ear, “Look, Claire. Do you see him? That’s a kudu bull.”

  Even as Seth spoke, and the hair on Claire’s neck prickled, the large kudu walked majestically out from the cover of the trees. Claire held her breath as, for timeless seconds, animal and man regarded each other. Unconsciously, her hand had gripped Seth’s muscled forearm. Then, as if given a silent signal, the kudu sprang away and disappeared into the thick bush.

  Realising that she was gripping Seth’s arm, Claire hastily let him go and rushed into speech. “Oh, Seth – I’ve never seen anything so stunning. I wish I’d had my camera out. Wasn’t he absolutely magnificent?” Claire’s bright, dilated eyes met Seth’s, only inches away.

  Moving back to his own side of the car, Seth shrugged off the feeling of electric tension he had felt growing between them. “Yes, he was an excellent specimen. But I assure you, Claire, you’ll see many more. Impunzi is well stocked with wildlife. Look, here we are.”

  She had been so wrapped up in the kudu bull, and in the surprise of the intense chemistry she had felt with Seth, that Claire had not noticed they were now driving over a grid with huge white pillars either side. The high wire fence, which ran off further than the eye could see, did not distract from the beauty of the main house’s setting. On entering the fenced area, Claire’s eyes quickly took in the signboard displaying a message of welcome to visitors and guests, the elegant whitewashed ranch house behind it, and the seemingly endless expanse of rolling green lawn that surrounded her. Colourful flowerbeds broke up the carpet of green, and well-kept shrubs added shape to the garden.

  Seth’s deep, rich voice and gentle touch broke the spell she had fallen under. “Claire, welcome to my home. Welcome to Impunzi.”

  Chapter Four

  As in water face reflects face, so the heart of man reflects man.

  (Proverbs 27:19)

  Impunzi, Zimbabwe

  Naomi sat on the dry ground under the thorn trees, trying to get some relief from the scorching sun. Tipping back her head, she closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to wander. A smile curved her full lips as she remembered Seth’s reservations when she’d started showing an interest in their ranch manager. As brothers went, he was very protective of her. All of his protestations had not dampened her attraction to Tony – or his to her. She knew before Seth had started his campaign that Tony was seven years her senior, that he’d lost his wife and child too recently… and Seth had gone on and on. But since her parents’ deaths, she’d felt confused and unsure of her relationship with Tony. Sighing deeply, Naomi acknowledged that she now understood the enormity of what he had lost. And now, for the first time, she was plagued with her own doubts. Could he ever love any woman as much as he had loved his wife? That was a question she could never ask him, although she sought an answer to it in his every glance.

  Opening her eyes to the sunlight, Naomi brushed her worries away. Today they just couldn’t drag her down, she felt so restless and energised. Seth would be arriving any
time now with their guest for the winter. Naomi had never lost the excitement she’d felt since she and Seth had built Impunzi back up in all its former glory and more – from the ground, it had often seemed to her. The crowning moment, the moment she’d known they would really make it, was the day the boma, an enclosure for wild game, had been completed. She replayed that golden hour in her head: she remembered the labourers taking the opportunity to escape the heat, sitting under the trees just as she was doing now. Tony had propped himself up in a shady spot, too, his shirt off and his skin glistening with sweat. Even in her anticipation for the game trucks’ arrival, Naomi had not been able to help but admire his sun-browned physique. At that point they were almost three years into their togetherness, she had mused, and still she wondered if her intense awareness of his physical beauty would ever fade. Naomi had snapped out of her daydream as she’d heard the rumble of engines in the distance.

  Then the trucks had arrived and, over the course of that October afternoon, Naomi’d watched as the antelope were off-loaded and guided into the boma. As the sun hung low on the horizon, she’d joined Seth and Tony at the enclosure’s wooden rails. Each section held a different type of antelope. After the long truck ride, they would all spend a few days here, and then be released into the bush. In the quiet after the labourers had gone home and the trucks had left, a gentle breeze had brushed across Naomi’s flushed face, Tony’s arm had wrapped itself firmly around her waist, and they’d stared in fascination at the magnificent kudu, eland and sable. The antelope were skittish after the long journey, but they would soon become accustomed to their new territory. In pure happiness, Naomi had given her brother’s hand a squeeze. Their dream was becoming a reality. Slowly, truck-load by truck-load, they were restocking their land with game. The back-breaking labour of the past two years had been worth it. If only Dad and Mom had lived to see this day, she’d thought.