Toward the Sea of Freedom

by Sarah Lark

  If only she were not frozen and did not dread the additional descent to Tuapeka. Though it was only two miles, if she could avoid it in the dark and cold, she would.

  Lizzie decided to at least look through the window. If a family had settled there, there was no reason not to knock and ask to stay the night. If, however, it was only men, she did not want to risk that.

  She led her horse closer to the cabin. Then a high-pitched whinny came from the small stable beside it. Michael’s gray? Surely it was just her imagination.

  “Not a step closer.”

  She was not imagining his voice. Nor the silhouette of the man who was stepping in front of the cabin, pointing a gun at her.

  “Raise your hands, step into the light, and assure me you come in peace.”

  Lizzie was startled. But all of a sudden, her heart felt lighter than it had in months, in all the time that Michael had been gone. She couldn’t think like that—if she did, she would make another mistake. It would have been better to turn around and flee to Tuapeka. She had written off Michael Drury’s share of the gold. She had decided not to trust a man again.

  But he had come back! Despite all the fighting. After all these months. And he was already doing foolish things. Lizzie could not contain herself.

  “Michael,” she called over to him. She tried to make her voice sound hard. “If I didn’t come in peace, I’d already have shot you. If you want to threaten somebody, you should seek cover first.”

  Michael threw his rifle down and let out a cry of joy. “I wouldn’t hit them anyway.” He laughed and ran to her. “Lizzie, I know I’m a fool. But do you have to tell me all the time?”

  Lizzie nodded. “Apparently. But we did agree that you don’t have to put up with it. As far as I care, you can turn around and go. I’m sure your girl is waiting for you in Kaikoura.” These last words sounded bitter—though she noticed immediately that Michael looked truly confused, and she felt something like hope.

  “Who’s waiting?” he asked. “Come in the house. You look frozen. But you really are a witch, Lizzie. How could you know that I’d come back today? The spirits?”

  Should she chastise Michael more? Or perhaps it was best just to throw him out? Or should she hear what he had to say? In any case, he ought to sleep in Tuapeka tonight and give her time to think. But it was useless: his blue eyes, his smile—she melted all over again. She thought she would never see him again, but there he was, right in front of her, the same old Michael.

  “In a way,” she said, following him into the cabin. A fire was burning in the fireplace. The floor was swept, the bed prepared.

  Lizzie’s resistance disappeared. “Oh, Michael, it’s so nice to come home.” She looked around the room, so happy but struggling for composure. “I had not counted on seeing you here. I had not counted on seeing you ever again, Michael Drury. Where have you been? Did you buy a house or a church? Or did you just have fun with the girls in Kaikoura?”

  She sat down in front of the fireplace, pulling off her boots and warming her ice-cold feet. Michael seized the opportunity. He sat down in front of her, took her feet in his hands, and massaged them.

  “Why do you keep talking about girls in Kaikoura?” he asked, looking at her face, which was softly lit by the fire and reddened with warmth. “No matter what spirits whispered that to you, they don’t have any idea, it seems.”

  “The spirit’s name was Tane, and he celebrated with you,” Lizzie said angrily. “He told me about Claudia.”

  Michael sighed, but he continued rubbing Lizzie’s feet. Slowly, he worked his way up to her knees. “Aye, I saw Claudia. And bought her a couple beers, like everyone else. She’s a good girl and was my friend—and yours for a long time too, if I recall. Did you two have a falling out?”

  Lizzie frowned and pushed Michael’s hands away. She did not want to be seduced now. “Not even over you, you charmer. So, you really mean to tell me you didn’t cheat on me? All these months? And you’ve really come back, tail between your legs now? With the key to a palace?”

  Michael gently set Lizzie’s feet down. He kneeled in front of her, his hand on his heart.

  “Lizzie, there are a few things I need to ask your forgiveness for. Did I already mention that I’m an idiot?”

  She had to laugh against her will.

  Michael raised his hand to swear. “But I swear to you, as long as we’ve been together, I haven’t cheated on you. Not in all my traveling, and certainly not with Claudia. Do you believe me?”

  Lizzie nodded. Now, all she could hope was that Michael would not ask if she had cheated on him.

  Michael reported on the farms near Kaikoura and in the plains while Lizzie cooked a meal out of his meager provisions.

  “You were in Tuapeka, weren’t you? Couldn’t you have bought something?”

  Michael admitted that he had been in too much of a hurry to see her to spend any time in the gold miners’ village, and that he wanted them to go to Queenstown to look at the farm there. He did not ask why she had come down to their cabin without any provisions. Her explanation for her return—that she wanted to stay once again in a properly heated house—he accepted without any doubt. Lizzie had always gotten cold easily. After all, that was why she had insisted they build the cabin in the first place. That evening, neither of them cared what they ate anyway. They were merely happy and relieved to be together—even when doubt still gnawed at Lizzie. Perhaps she should not have forgiven Michael so easily. Yet, on the other hand, his explanations sounded so plausible. Maybe he really had written her a letter and for some reason it was never delivered.

  “Tomorrow, we’ll ride straight to Queenstown,” Lizzie said. “Or do you want to go to Tuapeka first, to get married?”

  Michael laughed and kissed her. “Lizzie, to marry, we’ll have to go to Dunedin. At least if you have your heart set on being married by Reverend Burton. He’s finally gotten his church in civilization. He’s thrilled about it. Though apparently his sweetheart left him—at least that’s the way they tell it in Tuapeka.”

  “So you had time to gossip?” Lizzie teased him, furrowing her brow. “I guess you didn’t miss me all that much.”

  Michael pulled her onto the bedding. “I’ll show you right now how much I missed you,” he said. “Oh, Lizzie, I really did. Even your snoring.”

  Lizzie laughed. She craned her neck toward the window.

  “Come on now,” Michael said, “don’t look at the moon and count the days for whether it’s safe or not. We’re going to get married. We want kids.”

  Lizzie’s cycle was extraordinarily regular. She could easily prevent herself from getting pregnant by paying attention to her fertile days. But she had lost track of it—Michael had been away for so long. And the night with Kahu was unexpected. Michael was right though: it did not matter now. Lizzie snuggled happily into his arms and enjoyed a perfect night. Michael dissolved every doubt she had. They belonged together.

  When Michael stepped out of the cabin the next morning to feed the horses, he recognized the tohunga, Hainga, sitting in the clearing in front of the house, where she had made a fire.

  “Surely you want to see Lizzie,” he said.

  Hainga looked at him attentively. “You came back,” she said. “The spirits lead us down strange paths.”

  Michael understood only vaguely what the old woman meant. “I’ll call Lizzie for you. You’re welcome to eat breakfast with us, though we don’t have all that much.”

  Hainga shook her head.

  “Lizzie! There’s someone here for you.”

  Lizzie sat up in their makeshift bed, startled. She had feared Kahu might come down and call her back. He did not know precisely where the cabin was, but someone could have shown him the way. She had hoped she and Michael would be gone before Kahu found it. Now she would have to justify herself—to both of them. She dressed quickly, and she was greatly relieved when she saw the tohunga in front of the cabin.

  Hainga motioned Lizzie to a place at he
r fire.

  Lizzie was thankful when Michael went off to the stable, uninterested in the women’s conversation.

  “I’m sorry I ran away like that,” Lizzie said. “I, I should have said good-bye.”

  Hanga waved this away. “Coming and going; what’s gone and what’s coming are one.”

  “You say that, but I’m sure Kahu is angry with me. Haikina, Haikina got into trouble, didn’t she?”

  Hainga shook her head. “She only told you the truth when Kahu would not. The spirits make us come and go, speak and hold our tongues. It’s all one. The spirits, Erihapeti, do not let themselves be tricked. I told Kahu that, and now I’ve come to tell you.”

  Lizzie did not quite know how to respond to that. “That’s friendly,” she said eventually. “So, Kahu isn’t going to come, um, how do you say, demand his rights?”

  “What rights? Kahu Heke is on the way back to his homeland. We received a messenger yesterday. There’s unrest there. The war of which Kahu spoke has broken out.”

  Lizzie felt guilty about the relief that seized her. Because Kahu was gone—but also because now she had nothing for which to reproach herself. Whether the ariki of the Ngati Pau had married a pakeha or not, the conflict between the two people could not have been contained by diplomatic means.

  “I’m also going away,” said Lizzie, “with Michael.”

  The old woman nodded. “I know. The clouds have rolled away. But what the clear sky shows us does not always please us. Haere ra, Erihapeti. I’ll see you again, when the time comes.”

  Hainga laid her nose and forehead against Lizzie’s face. Lizzie returned the gesture. She sighed with relief when the old woman left. That, too, had been simpler than she had thought. The Ngai Tahu, at least, seemed not to hold it against her that she had rejected Kahu. And the gods seemed to be on Lizzie’s side for once.

  Chapter 6

  Reverend Burton was grateful to Jimmy Dunloe for everything he had done for Kathleen and Colin. He paid Dunloe a visit to thank him.

  “Naturally, I would have done anything to help,” Peter Burton said, almost guiltily. “But it was your connections that got Colin admitted into the academy.”

  “Oh, it was nothing, Reverend,” Dunloe said. “I just wish it had helped Kathleen more. She’s just a shadow of herself. Claire is very unhappy about it.”

  Indeed, Peter would have done anything to help—including adopting all Kathleen’s children if she had wanted that, and wanted him. But his hopes remained unfulfilled. Kathleen had been keeping him at a distance over the past few months, and she had not found her way back into her former life in Dunedin’s society. She had always been more reserved than vivacious Claire, but since Ian’s death and Colin’s departure, she only left the apartment to go to church. Claire had told Peter that Kathleen was deeply depressed, struggling with her fate and trying to wash herself clean of her supposed guilt with endless requiems for Ian and daily attendance at Mass.

  “If I hadn’t left Ian, Colin might not have turned out like that,” Kathleen said over and over when Claire—first sadly but, over time, with growing anger and urgency—spoke to her friend about her increasing dependence on Father Parrish.

  “Of course he would have,” Claire retorted angrily. “He was always the image of his father. He stopped listening to you long ago. And Sean might have turned out just like him, just to survive—after all, Ian didn’t give him a leg to stand on. And Heather? Was she supposed to keep watching while her father beat and raped her mother? What would have become of the three of them if he had beaten you to death in the end?”

  Kathleen could say nothing to that, but she did not accept it either. Instead, she merely wept silently to herself.

  Kathleen’s state was a great burden to Sean and Heather. For the first time in his life, Sean, who was happy to be free of Colin, had no patience for his mother. He refused to attend even one more requiem for Ian Coltrane. He did not care for Father Parrish’s gloomy visions of hell and the draconic penance he assigned whenever anyone committed even the slightest sin. Sean refrained from attending church whenever he possibly could. Father Parrish could not accept Sean either. The boy had grown up with Peter Burton’s tolerant religiosity, which had welcomed in even the scoundrels and prostitutes of Gabriel’s Gully. Father Parrish upbraided Kathleen for that and for the boy’s absence from church.

  Heather, now almost fourteen and an extraordinarily pretty and vivacious girl, feared what her mother had become. She visited friends whenever she could and stuck even closer to Claire and Chloe. Most of all, she loved horses. Thanks to Claire, the girls were excellent riders, and Heather wanted her own horse to ride. When Kathleen denied her this desire, Heather quarreled the way her brother had with the Irish Catholic church. In Father Parrish’s opinion, girls belonged at the stove, not in the saddle.

  “Why don’t you try to revive your womanly virtues?” Claire suggested, somewhat sarcastically, to Kathleen. “I’m thinking here of working with needle and thread. It’s about time for the new spring designs, Kathleen. Now! The fashion magazines from England and France have been there for weeks, but you’ve yet to even glance at them.”

  “Pride is a sin,” Kathleen said apathetically.

  Claire rolled her eyes. She wanted to shake her friend. What had become of the woman who had nursed an escape plan for years? Who, through good and bad years, had mastered their shared profession with courage and determination? All the strength seemed to have drained from Kathleen. She was putty in the hands of the bigoted Father Parrish.

  “What if you talked to the man yourself?” Claire asked Peter Burton desperately when Kathleen still made no move to work again. “Priest to priest. He certainly ought to take an interest in Kathleen earning money. After all, it goes into his cash box. And it’s starting to get serious, Peter. We need the new designs. Otherwise the clothes won’t be ready by spring.”

  Claire and Kathleen had made a habit of finishing one of each of the dress designs to display in the store ahead of the next season. This way, the customers had the opportunity to see the designs and could place their orders with the style and fabric tailored to suit them.

  Peter Burton laughed bitterly. “How do you see that happening, Claire? Should I ask Father Parrish for her hand, so to speak? He’ll notice, I’m sure, what she means to me as soon as I start. Then, of course, I’ll be Lucifer himself.”

  “But something has to change,” said Claire.

  “If you ask me, you have the best cards here. Make her see that she soon won’t be able to pay for her children’s education anymore. Extort her with this secret she still hasn’t revealed to anyone.”

  Claire raised her eyebrows. “What secret?”

  Peter shrugged. Then he smirked. “If I knew that, I could extort her myself,” he said. “But don’t take me for a fool, Claire. There’s still something. Something between Kathleen and Ian, even though he’s dead. Why did she even marry that rat, Claire? Don’t tell me he only became a swindler after the wedding. He would never have been able to pay for passage to New Zealand with honest work.”

  “Kathleen paid for their passage,” Claire blurted out.

  Peter looked at her with surprise. “I’m not asking where she got the money, but there’s something there. If you see even the slightest chance to put pressure on her or to pull her out of her despair, then seize it. And I’ll do the same.”

  Claire nodded. She knew that Peter was right.

  “I’d also like to invite all of you, Claire. You, Mr. Dunloe, and Kathleen and the children, to my inaugural service in the new church. They’re finally letting me come back to Dunedin. Apparently, word has gotten around that in the last few years I haven’t once mentioned Darwin. At least not from the pulpit.”

  “Have you lost your nerve, Reverend?” asked Claire playfully.

  Peter laughed. “No, I’ve just had other concerns. The fellows in the gold mines were not in the least interested, and Dunedin has other problems, having grown so quickly
from all the people pouring into the city because of the gold. In any case, I’ll be closer to you, Claire, and Kathleen—hopefully not only in terms of location. She cannot miss my first service, not after everything we’ve been through together.”

  Kathleen really could not say no to attending the reverend’s service, but she went reluctantly and in a black dress and black hat. Despite the sad color, or perhaps because of it, she drew everyone’s attention. The women, especially, whispered about Claire’s business partner, who was obviously dressed in mourning. The men were busy eyeing her undeniable beauty. Peter Burton had to be careful he did not do the same. It required a lot of effort to focus on his preaching—even though Kathleen didn’t once look up at him.

  Nor did Kathleen want to take part in the picnic that followed the service in the garden of the small church on the outskirts of Dunedin. This almost led to a serious quarrel between her and Sean. The boy insisted on congratulating his old friend and father figure on his sermon, which had addressed several of Dunedin’s current social problems.

  Heather wanted to celebrate as well. She basked in Peter’s compliments about how pretty she had become, and she chatted extensively with Chloe and her friends about which of the girls Rufus Cooper had looked at most often during the service.

  Finally, Claire, Jimmy Dunloe, Sean, and Heather had to practically drag Kathleen into the church garden to say hello to Peter.

  “A beautiful sermon, Reverend,” she said with lowered eyes as Peter took her hand.

  A small, cold hand. Peter thought Kathleen had lost even more weight over the last few weeks. He energetically clasped her fingers in his.

  “Kathleen, what’s wrong? Why don’t you want to speak with me? Good Lord, Kathleen, we used to be close. I had hoped . . . Kathleen, just what’s happened to you?”

  He lightly put his arm around her shoulders, although she shied away as if he might hurt her. Peter gave Claire and the others a nod as a sign to excuse him for the moment. With gentle pressure, he led the reluctant Kathleen into his tiny, new parsonage.