The Fire Blossom (The Fire Blossom Saga)

by Sarah Lark

  During the next few days, Ida followed Laura Redwood around like a lost child. She’d wanted to do household chores, but she felt scared and insecure the moment she was left alone. Laura treated her kindly and with endless patience, while the men showed her a kind of reserved politeness. As Ida quickly noticed, Laura worked more closely with her husband and her brothers-in-law than had been usual among the men and women of Raben Steinfeld or Sankt Pauli Village. She didn’t limit herself to the house and garden either, but also enjoyed working with the sheep, cattle, and horses. Ida felt a twitch of embarrassment when she realized that Laura even wore trousers. They might have been wide, homemade things that looked like a skirt at first sight, but they were still trousers, and Laura sat astraddle her horse in them to herd sheep or cattle.

  “I was never one for washing and cooking,” she admitted when she noticed Ida’s disconcertment. “That’s why I was so glad to leave Yorkshire! The other women thought I was mad and shameless. What a fuss there was when my father heard that I wanted to go to a country at the end of the world with three men! But I was fully aware that if I married a proper farmer, I’d never escape the kitchen again. Well, maybe to tend to the sheep or bottle-feed some lambs. But I’d never be able to ride a horse again. And I love horses!”

  That was undoubtedly the case. When Laura gazed at the gray-yellow gelding she’d brought from the North Island, she smiled broader than she did at the sight of her husband. She called them both “darling.” Joseph didn’t seem to mind, and the horse whinnied at the sound of her voice.

  “In my village, they would have considered it impious,” Ida remarked shyly. “I mean, when a woman doesn’t stay in her rightful place.”

  Laura laughed. “And they’d surely say that’s the reason why my marriage hasn’t been blessed with children yet. My mother always writes that in her letters too! Both of my sisters already have three children. But I’m quite happy as I am. It’ll sort itself out with the children. And if it doesn’t, well, Ed and James can look for wives and sire children for the farm that we don’t even have yet. I always say, ‘Boys, build me a stone house, and then we’ll talk about children.’ In that log cabin”—she waved contemptuously at it—“I’d raise lambs and foals, but not humans!”

  Ida, on the other hand, was envious of Laura’s tidy wooden home with its inviting porch, its large windows with colorful curtains, and its simple, cozy interior. Laura may not have enjoyed handicrafts, but it looked like she spun and wove the wool of her own sheep. There were soft blankets, colorful cushions, and embroidered tablecloths. Ida thought wistfully of her dowry, long swept away in the flood.

  “And now I should take care of the cheesemaking,” Laura said reluctantly. “None of us enjoys it, and one day the boys decided it was women’s work. But I prefer shearing sheep to milking them.”

  Ida laughed shyly. “Your cheese isn’t very good. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be ungrateful. But it’s possible to do it better.”

  Laura raised her eyebrows. “Really? You should show me. How did you make cheese in Mecklenburg, dear?”

  “The traditional kind?” Ida asked eagerly. “From cow’s milk. I could start some for you.”

  A little while later, in the small dairy in the stables, Ida was explaining to Laura that the cheese curd had to be cut differently. She tirelessly scooped out the whey and changed the cloths on the cheeses that were already in their molds.

  “That’s so much work,” Laura grumbled.

  Ida smiled. “It’s worth it when you get a good, hearty cheese for your work. You could certainly sell it for more, then. You do sell the cheese, don’t you?”

  Laura nodded, adding that there wasn’t much demand for farm products in the area. “There’s supposed to be a new town soon at the mouth of the Otakaro river,” she said. “But no one knows when. So far, we’ve been selling our cheese and meat in Port Victoria to the whalers and the few settlers there. Sometimes to the cooks on the ships as well. They don’t want soft cheese, of course, just hard cheese that will keep well. But soft cheese is the only thing that I can make reasonably well.”

  “This one will last at least five months!” Ida explained proudly and began rolling the cheese in salt. “Oh, and do you have beer for the red rind? Or wine? Otherwise, we’ll have to brew some. A red rind is important; it makes the cheese aromatic.”

  Laura grinned. “I have three men here. Of course we brew beer. But do you really mean to soak the cheese in it? Sounds interesting. Do you also know how to make sheep cheese?”

  Ida shrugged. “I put goat cheese in brine—it keeps longer that way. And you can add herbs, like nettles. Are there any nettles here? We should ask Cat what you could use instead. Let me see the curd. Wait, you don’t make sheep cheese with rennet? We’ll ferment the sheep’s milk just like cow’s milk.”

  Ida hadn’t enjoyed work this much since she’d had to leave Paddy’s pub, and she liked cheesemaking even better than cooking. Over the following days, she thrived. Ida dried and salted cheese, pressed it into molds, and seasoned it. The Mecklenburg-style cheese worked wonderfully with Laura’s Yorkshire beer. And Chasseur was much happier catching rinds than rats.

  “I have to go back soon,” Ida announced unhappily after ten quiet days at the Redwoods’ farm.

  She hadn’t been this content since she’d left Raben Steinfeld—and even there, she may have felt safe but never appreciated. Here, Laura never tired of praising her cheesemaking skills, and the Redwood brothers courteously thanked the women for every meal they were served. Ida admired Laura and Joseph’s kind, loving relationship. The couple truly seemed to like each other; they could talk to one another and had much in common. When Ida watched them, she often thought of Karl. Would it have been like this if she had married him? Had any couple ever laughed together in Raben Steinfeld or Sankt Pauli Village?

  “Won’t you be afraid when you’re alone again?” Laura asked her worriedly. “I mean, you know now that your fear was unfounded. But you knew that before too.”

  Ida lowered her eyes. “It just came over me,” she mumbled. “I don’t actually believe in ghosts. I just felt so helpless!”

  Ida was surprised to see a beaming smile on Laura’s face. “Yes, of course!” her friend exclaimed eagerly. “Why didn’t I think of it sooner?” Laura bustled over to a kitchen cupboard and began rooting around. “You feel helpless, that’s where the fear came from! But if you weren’t so helpless . . . I’ve felt that way before too, Ida. On the North Island, we were near a whaling station. Lots of rough-and-ready blokes. But Joseph and the others had to leave me alone sometimes. So they bought me this!”

  She triumphantly pulled out a box and opened it. Dumbfounded, Ida stared at the elegant little weapon laid out on blue velvet.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “A revolver,” Laura explained proudly. “A Colt! It may be a little complicated to load, but once that’s done, you have five shots without having to reload. This is better than the old weapons. You can load it and keep it in your kitchen drawer, or in your skirt pocket, if you want to feel safe anywhere you go. And then, if somebody threatens you—bang!”

  As she spoke, she removed the Colt from its box and playfully directed it at an imaginary target outside the kitchen window. She didn’t pull the trigger, but Ida recoiled nonetheless.

  “Couldn’t you hurt yourself with it?” she asked nervously.

  Laura shrugged. “Sweetheart, you can hurt yourself with a kitchen knife or boiling water. All you have to do is be careful and know how it works. Come here, I’ll show you.”

  Laura steered Ida over to a stool by the kitchen table and showed her in meticulous detail how to put gunpowder into the chamber, how to insert a filler, and finally, how to load the bullet.

  “You can cast the bullets yourself,” she explained and showed her the matching casting pliers. “It’s really quite easy. All right, now the cap, and then we insert the drum. Now it’s ready to fire, Ida. You could take down five ghos
ts with that.”

  Ida laughed uneasily.

  “Come on, let’s try it,” Laura said, leading her outside. “You should practice a couple of times before taking it with you.”

  “You want to give it to me?” Ida asked her nervously. “I can’t shoot. And surely you need it yourself.”

  Laura shook her head. “Child, I need it as little as you will. There aren’t any threats up there by the fort. They’re only in your head. And that’s easily remedied by some cold steel in your hand. It’s about how you feel, Ida. It’s about not being helpless.”

  Outside, Ida watched nervously as Laura laid a few logs on the paddock fence, first making sure that there were no animals in the vicinity. Then she stood a few steps back from her targets and fired.

  Ida almost jumped out of her skin, and Chasseur fled the scene with his tail between his legs, as did the Redwoods’ collie.

  “Suzie is gun-shy,” Laura explained calmly. “She always comes running home when the boys start hunting rabbits. It’s very useful for me. When Suzie skitters in like the devil’s on her trail, I know there’s going to be a roast rabbit for dinner.”

  Each of the three Redwoods, Laura explained, had owned hunting rifles since somebody had introduced rabbits to New Zealand. Lacking any natural enemies, the animals multiplied explosively, and the brothers were excellent marksmen. Laura wasn’t quite as good. She only hit the log with her third shot.

  “Now you,” she said, satisfied.

  Ida reached nervously for the weapon, aligned it, and fixated on the next log.

  “Go on,” Laura said. “Nothing can happen. Not even if you miss.”

  Ida didn’t miss. The sound made her jump again, and the recoil threw her off balance, but the log flew clear off the fence.

  “Oh, that was excellent! You’re a natural talent!” Laura cheered. “Come on, one more time!”

  “What are you doing?” Laura’s husband, Joseph, pulled his horse up short behind the two women. “You scared me half to death, Laura,” he said. “I thought someone was attacking the house! Can’t you warn me before you decide to play around with that thing?”

  “Oh, we’re not playing,” Laura explained. “I’m only showing Ida how it’s done. I want her to take the Colt so she feels safe up there.”

  Joseph frowned. “And then when her people come back, she’ll shoot them by accident,” he prophesied.

  “She’ll be careful,” Laura insisted. “She’s good, Joseph. It’s incredible. She hit the target on the first try.”

  Joseph laughed. “Beginner’s luck.”

  Laura shook her head. “No, she can really do it! Do it again, Ida.”

  Timidly, Ida aimed again. She took her time, eager to show Joseph. Finally, she pulled the trigger, and wasn’t taken as much by surprise by the recoil this time. She was starting to get used to it.

  This log exploded into flying bits of sawdust.

  Joseph ducked. “I’ll be darned!”

  Chapter 45

  Laura was right. The Colt did help Ida feel safer in her lonely house, although she hid it in a corner of the pantry. Had there been an actual robbery, she never could have reached the weapon fast enough, but its mere existence served to ease her mind. With Chasseur patiently following on her heels, she filled her days as industriously as possible. She worked in the garden, dyed and spun wool, and even chopped wood until she was exhausted. At night, she hid under the blankets with the dog so she wouldn’t see or hear anything. That way, she survived the last few days until the men and Cat returned. She broke into tears only after flinging her arms around Cat’s neck.

  “Thank God you’re back!” she sobbed. “I was so alone, and I was imagining all kinds of horrible things that could have happened to you.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Ida,” Ottfried snapped, obviously annoyed that she was embracing Cat without so much as greeting him first. “It’s completely safe out there. While you were sniveling and lazing about, I made you a rich woman. You could at least show some gratitude—”

  “No prayers of thanks, Ottie?” Joe said, interrupting him.

  Gibson got visibly annoyed whenever Ottfried relapsed into insincere piousness. While they had been traveling, he had even managed to break him of the habit of saying grace. “Unharness the horses instead, make yourself useful,” he’d said.

  Ida looked at Cat questioningly. “Is it true? Did it really work?”

  Cat shrugged. “Well, we made a deal with a local tribe and got a lot of land in exchange for a few baubles. If Joe and Ottfried can find some settlers, they could actually turn a profit. But if you ask me”—she switched to English, since Ottfried was still lurking nearby—“there’s still a lot that can go wrong. But let’s have some tea first, Ida, and you can tell me how you’ve been. You’re so pale and thin . . . And what about the baby? Has it moved yet? I’ve been feeling mine for a while now.”

  Cat was glowing. Her visit to the Ngai Tahu had done her good, and since then she’d actually felt a bit excited about her pregnancy. Ida felt a little envious when Cat told her about their journey through the plains. Ida told Cat about her stay with the Redwoods but without mentioning the real reason for it, or the weapon she had been given. She was ashamed of her fears now. Of course, Cat could tell that something was amiss.

  “You won’t be alone during the next few weeks, in any case. The men have a lot of land now. It’s lovely, fertile land, although it’s quite far away. I don’t think it’ll be all that easy for them to find buyers, but at least they don’t need an interpreter for this part. You and I can take some quiet time here and give birth to our children in peace.” She stroked her own abdomen, which was beginning to grow quite round. “Haere mai, baby.”

  Ida awkwardly stirred her tea. Her own pregnancy was much more visible than Cat’s because the only round thing on the gaunt woman’s body was her belly; the child seemed to be sucking up all her energy.

  The next few weeks passed peacefully for Ida and Cat. The only excitement was when Laura Redwood occasionally came to visit. Cat would quickly hide somewhere, and Ida had to keep trying to think up plausible excuses for her absence. Fortunately, Laura came less often once she saw that Ida was recovering. The young woman was finally gaining some weight and had regained her beauty. Laura was pleased for her—and, proudly, she presented Ida with one of her first Old Mecklenburg Tilsit cheeses.

  “We aren’t even selling the first batch,” she said cheerfully. “The boys want to eat it all themselves! The sheep cheese is firm and keeps well now, and it’s delicious with the herbs. We’ll make a fortune with it. But I’ve already told the boys I’m not letting them carry off my earnings. I want to go with them the next time they go to Port Victoria.”

  Ida hoped that the market day, the arrival of a large ship, or whatever the Redwoods took as an excuse to travel to the settlement, would coincide with the births of her baby and Cat’s.

  “After what you’ve told me about her, I think it probably wouldn’t shock her all that much,” Cat said, but Ida insisted that the ground would swallow her up with shame if Laura discovered the truth about the “twins.”

  In the time before the births, the women didn’t see much of Ottfried or Gibson. The two men were often out, because, as Cat had feared, potential buyers weren’t exactly tripping over one another in their haste. Luckily, financial disaster was averted by Captain Rudyard Butler, who bought three large parcels of land. He had been the commander of a schooner that brought whale products to England. He had recently gotten married and wanted to settle down in New Zealand with his new wife. Allegedly, the Anglican Church was recruiting settlers for a new town near Port Victoria, and the captain bought land by the river so the future town could be reached quickly by boat.

  “She’s a proper English lady!” Gibson raved. “A rare beauty, if perhaps a little thin . . .”

  “Butler wants to build her a palace in the plains,” Ottfried said, unimpressed. “He’s already hired workers, and he’s ordered bric
ks. It’s going to be huge. Hopefully it’s not too much for the savages up there.”

  “In any case, the Ngai Tahu will be pleased if there’s construction work for them,” Cat said.

  Gibson shrugged. “There probably will be—the captain speaks a little Maori. He’s not afraid of them or their blue tattoos. And we get triple the amount for our effort!”

  Each of the men had netted two hundred and seventy pounds of profit; three hundred if they counted the money they’d spent on trade wares. That was the exact price Ottfried’s father had paid for his parcel of land in Sankt Pauli Village, and five times the amount Te Kahungunu and his tribe had received.

  “The next sale will be pure profit,” Ottfried said excitedly.

  But the next sale was long in coming. The only people they could find in Port Victoria were adventurers and broke sailors.

  “I could try Wellington,” Gibson said at last.

  Ottfried was inclined to Nelson. During their travels, they’d heard that more German settlers had arrived. If they had been as badly disappointed as the emigrants from the Sankt Pauli, they might be able to ask for reimbursements and settle in the plains.

  Eventually, the men agreed to travel north together. Ottfried would try his luck in Nelson, and Gibson would take a ship from there to the North Island. Ida and Cat watched them go with relief.

  “Do you think they’ll be successful?” Ida asked nervously.

  “If not, you can always keep one of the parcels and build a farm. You have the money for a fresh start now. I know it’s not what Ottfried had in mind, but it’s a good alternative.”

  Ida pursed her lips worriedly. A farm in some corner of the plains wasn’t what she had in mind anymore either. She dreaded starting from the beginning again, like they had in Sankt Pauli Village, but this time all on her own with Ottfried and her children.

  She groaned as the baby kicked.