The Fire Blossom (The Fire Blossom Saga)

by Sarah Lark

  Cat shook her head. “Karl, she’s not the same desperate little thing from Raben Steinfeld anymore, even if it still seems that way sometimes. Her humiliation and mine—she got over that a long time ago. Now she will fight for the girls’ reputation. If you ask me, she’s on her way to Port Cooper.”

  After the first few miles at a trot, Ida’s body ached. She knew that a canter was supposed to be more comfortable, but she’d never ridden that fast before. Now she was amazed as the gelding accelerated good-naturedly when she slapped the ends of the reins against his hindquarters. Brandy began to move under her in long, even strides, and she made progress very quickly.

  The sun was just going down as she reached the outskirts of Port Cooper.

  “How do I get to Jefferson’s Pub?” she asked a man she passed.

  He gazed curiously at the young woman on the horse. Ida returned his look without embarrassment. Her skirt had bunched up, since she was riding astride, but the oilskin coat was made for riding and had a slit at the back. It covered her legs so well that only her laced boots were visible in the stirrups.

  “What do you want there?” the man retorted. “If you’re looking for a job, the whorehouse is at Bailey’s.”

  “I said I’m looking for Jefferson’s Pub,” Ida said, her voice hard. “What I want there is none of your business.”

  The man held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “All right, all right, young lady. It’s just down the street and then right, toward the harbor.”

  Ida didn’t thank him, but immediately got Brandy moving again. She was trembling now, but she didn’t feel the cold night air.

  She quickly tied up Brandy in front of the pub. The sound of laughter and loud men’s voices sounded from the taproom. The patrons were already drunk. There was probably a round of poker going on. Then she heard Ottfried’s voice.

  “Then let see your card, Ben! And then you let trousers down. You owe me—”

  “I don’t owe you anything, Ottie!” Ida heard a calm voice that sounded relatively sober in comparison to Ottfried’s. “Even if you won, your credit with me would be barely covered. But first, show me what you have, if you’re so proud of it.”

  “Can I be proud! Here: diamonds three, spades seven, and the queen! Makes twenty!”

  “Well, that’s not bad.” The other man sounded unimpressed. “Now look at this.”

  The oohs and ahs told Ida all she needed to know. He’d obviously beaten Ottfried’s hand.

  “But—but, damn, that—” Ottfried stammered.

  The other man, Ben, laughed loudly. “Well, some men are lucky at cards, Ottie, and others are lucky in love. Tell us again about the two whores you did it with at the same time! I’ll buy you another drink, and Georgie can deal a new hand.”

  A few men appeared behind Ida and made their way into the pub. Ida stepped aside as they entered, and then followed them inside. The men didn’t react. In the twilight in her long oilskin coat with the hood pulled up, they probably hadn’t noticed that Ida was a woman.

  “Ha, old Ottie can get what he wants in bed.” The other players tried to provoke Ottfried now too. “How did that story go? They were sisters?”

  “No,” Ottfried said with a grin. “One my wife. Good girl. Only pray before come in my bed. But good old Ottie show how goes it! At end she like fire, cry ‘more, more!’ And other, Maori whore. But yellow hair, English, understand? Was just with tribe, to learn . . .”

  The gesture with which he described Cat’s supposed sexual apprenticeship with the Maori spurred Ida’s rage. She lowered the hood. The new arrivals and the two or three carousers at the bar said nothing but stared at the young woman.

  Ottfried continued to rant. “Wild thing, totally wild.” He giggled. “Cat like panther, but when Ottie finish, sweet like kitty. At end, both babies born on same day! That Ottie, boys! And now give cards. New game, new luck.” He reached for the cards, but then Ida pushed her way through the crowd toward him.

  “You will stop gambling away my money this instant!” she shouted. “And you will stop slandering my friend, not to mention me. And your daughters!”

  With that, she reached out furiously and gave Ottfried a ringing slap in the face.

  “Madam—” The pub owner approached her. “Madam, I’m sorry, but we don’t serve ladies here. If you would please—”

  “I don’t want to be served!” Ida cast him a short, haughty glance. She felt neither fear nor shame. She had been silent long enough. “My name is Ida Brandmann,” she declared. “The money that my husband is gambling with here I earned in my cheese dairy, and he obviously hasn’t had much luck. Or don’t you know how to play cards?” She glared at Ottfried, who was clutching his red cheek in shock. Then Ida turned to Jefferson and the other men and regarded them confidently. “There are a lot of things my husband can’t do, you know. For example, his English is terrible. He doesn’t know very many words. Certainly, no woman has ever said the word ‘more’ to him. As for me, well, in Ottie’s bed, any woman would pray. She’d pray that it would soon be over.” Now Ida finally blushed, as her remark triggered a storm of raucous laughter. But the men fell silent again when Ida continued. “It’s entirely possible that he decided to focus his attention on our house cat,” she said. “But I’m not worried about the creature. It scratches and bites, and its offspring don’t look anything like my husband.” There was a renewed storm of hilarity. “He must have gotten mixed up.” She turned to her husband, still staring at her in disbelief. “In the future, watch what you say, Ottfried. And at least learn how card games work, before you drive us completely into debt. It would be best for you to come home, learn to pray again, and raise your children honorably. Our children! If you’re lucky, then at least God might forgive you.”

  She wanted to turn on her heel and leave, but Ottfried jumped up and caught her by the arm.

  “You’re not walking away from me, you slut!” he shrieked in German. “I’ll show you what I can do, in front of everyone here.”

  He threw her against the wall, ripped open her coat, tore at her dress, and loosened his belt.

  “Leave me!” Ottfried flailed at the men who were trying to stop him. “You not hear? This my wife. I with her make what I—”

  “You bastard!” Karl Jensch crossed the room in a few steps and pulled him away from Ida. Ottfried staggered and fell. “How dare you? Pull up your pants.”

  Karl turned to Ida while two other men pinned Ottfried and kept him from attacking Karl.

  “You’re no longer welcome in this establishment, Ottie,” the pub owner told him. “Your little wife was a bit, hmm, unmannerly, but that certainly doesn’t give you the right to—”

  “Ida—”

  Karl had forgotten Ottfried the moment he had thrown him to the floor. He also forgot the men around them. Some of them were taking Ottfried’s side, and the others Ida’s. But Karl only had eyes for the young woman against the wall. Her face had gone pale.

  “You’re not hurt?”

  Ida shook her head.

  She was wearing a thick wool dress, and Ottfried hadn’t been able to tear it. Only a few buttons had popped off the borrowed coat.

  “Get me out of here, Karl.”

  The crowd in the pub parted as he led her out. Ottfried shouted insults after them, but Ida ignored him, and Karl checked that the men were still holding him down.

  Out on the street, they were met by cold, clear air.

  “Why did you come?” Ida asked. “I—”

  “I followed you,” Karl said quietly. “I will always follow you.”

  “I had to do that,” Ida whispered.

  Karl smiled. “Oh yes, and you were amazing! I didn’t see everything, but—”

  “It was shameless,” Ida said, trembling. “It was—it was terrible. I’ve damned myself for eternity.”

  Karl shook his head. “More like you damned Ottfried for eternity! They’ll be laughing about him in this pub for decades. Now come, I’ll take you b
ack to the Deanses’. I don’t want to run into Ottfried again tonight.”

  Ida looked up at him. Her eyes were clear. “I don’t want to go back to the Deanses’,” she said. “Bring me to a beach.”

  “A beach?” Karl’s brow creased. “But Ida, it’s bitterly cold. You’re already trembling. If we go down to the sea now—”

  “I’m plenty warm,” Ida said. “To the beach. Please. There’s a beach here, isn’t there?”

  “Of course. Come, I’ll help you onto the horse.” He held Brandy’s stirrups for her. There was an unsaddled bay next to the russet gelding. Karl had simply leaped on and galloped to Port Cooper when Cat revealed her suspicions about Ida’s disappearance.

  Ida shook her head. “No, you get on first. I want to ride with you.”

  “On one horse?” Karl smiled.

  “Yes,” Ida said serenely. “I want you to hold me in your arms.”

  Karl didn’t understand, but he stopped thinking as he pulled up Ida in front of him in the saddle and pressed against her to keep her warm and safe. Brandy set off unhurriedly. It wasn’t far to the beach Karl had in mind. At night, the natural harbor of Port Cooper was empty, and there were many little hidden places that couldn’t be seen from the road. Karl stopped the horse on a small, sandy inlet that was bordered by cliffs and green hills.

  “Here?”

  “This is good,” Ida said. “A longer beach would be nice, but this is more private. And the stars are shining so brightly.”

  The clouds had disappeared completely now. The moon was almost full, and the starry sky was reflected in the placid sea. Only tiny waves slapped against the sand.

  Ida slid off the horse. Karl followed and watched her as she gazed at the scene of the sand and sea, the moon and stars.

  “Don’t you want to kiss me?” she asked then.

  Disbelievingly, Karl took her in his arms. “I always want to kiss you,” he whispered.

  “Then kiss me!” Ida said.

  She sank into his embrace. His lips sought hers, and it was just as beautiful, exciting, warm, and tender as it had been back in Bahia. This time, Ida didn’t resist.

  Karl kissed her again and again, and she enjoyed his touch, reveled in his scent of leather and sweat and horses . . . and love. From that night on, love would always be a scent for Ida. Karl caressed her, allowing his hands to glide gently over her face, her back, and her hair, as though he couldn’t believe she was actually there.

  “You can take my hair down,” she whispered. “I always dreamed that you would take my hair down first . . .”

  When she began to unbutton her dress, Karl breathed heavily. He desired her terribly, but on the other hand, this was crazy. It was a frosty autumn night.

  “Ida, it’s bitterly cold. I don’t want you to get sick.”

  Ida dropped her dress to the sand. “It’s not cold,” she said. “Don’t you understand? It was cold in Raben Steinfeld. But now I’ve left Raben Steinfeld. Now we’re on the beach in Bahia. Soon we’ll hear the drums, the music—”

  “Wait,” Karl whispered. He went to Brandy, quickly removed his saddle, and unfolded the saddle blanket. The blanket was scratchy and smelled of horse sweat, but it was made of thick wool.

  Ida spread their raincoats on the sand. “I’d like to feel the sand under me,” she said unhappily, “but it’s wet. You’re right, it would be too cold. Maybe this isn’t Bahia.”

  Karl kissed her and pulled her gently down onto the strange bed. “Yes, it is!” he whispered. “It is. The sand will dry on your hot skin. And I’ll keep you warm. Wherever I am will be Bahia for you.”

  They made love to the rhythm of the drums that they both heard, even if they were sounding on another beach, in another, warmer world. Ida didn’t worry that it would hurt the way it always did. Tonight she was living her dream, and there had never been pain or fear in that dream. Karl took her tenderly and slowly, as though she were a virgin. He stroked her, whispered endearments, covered her body with kisses, and finally moved with her to the sound of the waves. They became one with each other, and with the bay and the starry sky and the sea. Ida felt warmth rising in her and released herself into a cloud of bliss, as though she were floating.

  “We’re supposed to go to hell for this?” she asked later, when he was holding her in his arms under the warm saddle blanket. “To me, it felt more like we touched heaven!”

  Karl smiled. “Maybe the gods were guiding our bodies. You were Papa, the earth, and I was Rangi, the sky. And now they will be eternally grateful to us, because we allowed them to reunite. How beautiful you are, Ida!” He kissed her again.

  “You too.” She could see only the outlines of his body, and what she saw, she liked. Karl was wiry and slender, strong and yet not so heavy that she didn’t enjoy feeling his weight on her body. “Você é linda.”

  “I think for a man, it would be lindo,” Karl said. “But you never forgot, did you? Linda is your daughter, isn’t she?”

  Ida shook her head. “They’re both my daughters. That’s the only way it could work. Otherwise, Linda would have been illegitimate.”

  Karl’s eyebrows went up. “Linda is Cat’s? I thought she was yours.”

  “No,” Ida said, and smiled. “Carol is mine. When she was born, it was hard. I was scared and in pain. I thought that I’d never be able to love her.”

  “Is that why you called her ‘beloved’?” Karl asked. “I asked Chris what ‘Carol’ meant, and he said it meant something like that.”

  “No,” Ida said, and began to caress him again. “Cat named her, and she knew very well what she was doing. Carol is the English version of Karla. How could I not love a child who had your name?”

  Chapter 63

  Ida had left Raben Steinfeld and found Bahia, but that didn’t mean she’d arrived in New Zealand yet. Karl had to make that painful discovery after their magical night on the beach, when they returned to the Deans brothers’ farm and then to Fenroy Station. Neither Cat nor the Deanses asked any questions, even though Ida and Karl’s happiness was mirrored in Cat’s smile. But on the way back to the farm, Ottfried caught up with them in his wagon.

  Ida started with shock when she saw him approach. Her anger had faded, and had made way for fear. It may have done her good to expose Ottfried in the pub, but she was still married to him and would have to reckon with his revenge. Especially if he found out that she really had betrayed him with Karl.

  At first, he hung back, but Cat demanded an explanation as soon as he pulled up to the group. “So, is there anything left from the sale of the cheese, or were the wares in your wagon bought on credit?”

  Ottfried looked offended. “I had the task of investing the money in animal feed and nails,” he said proudly. “I did that.” Ida’s husband bit his lip. He’d obviously come to the conclusion that there was nothing he could do but apologize, at least at first. “And—I’m sorry, Ida. I had a little too much to drink.”

  “A little?” Cat demanded. “We can only thank the gods that you have so little credibility! If we’re lucky, everything might be attributed to boasting. Of course, Karl knows now, and we’re going to have to tell Chris. In the future, it would be better if you stay on the farm. Chris or Karl can do the shopping. Except they’ll do it without losing the profits by gambling, and three times as fast!”

  Ida remained silent. She successfully avoided Ottfried during the journey by sleeping in the covered wagon with Cat and the children. Karl had his own tent, but Ottfried declined to share it, preferring to crawl under the cover of the second wagon. The episode in the pub went unmentioned. As much as he despised him, Karl, too, had been raised in Raben Steinfeld and felt guilty about betraying Ottfried with Ida.

  “I’m going to turn off here,” Cat said as they approached Fenroy Station on the third day. The main road to the northwest ran parallel to the Waimakariri, and there was a fork before Fenroy Station. The farm was to the left, and the Maori village was to the right. “Thanks for your help driving
the sheep, Karl, and say hello to Chris for me. He should come by and see the sheep! Can I borrow Chasseur for a few days, Ida? I probably won’t be able to get the sheep to the village without him.”

  “Don’t you want to come with us and see Chris yourself?” Karl asked.

  The young woman shook her head. “No. He’ll just try to convince me to stay and become a partner with you all. And then you’ll start to argue with Ottfried again.”

  Ottfried had eyed Cat’s sheep mistrustfully and, as his self-assurance had slowly returned, had begun to lament about her role at Fenroy Station. He declared, unprompted, that he refused to have Cat as a partner, arguing that she had no rights because she was a woman, not even a married one, and that she wouldn’t do her fair share of the farm work.

  Karl had swallowed a remark about it hardly being possible for Cat to contribute less than Ottfried did. But Cat had announced unequivocally that she was going to bring the sheep to the Maori village, anyway. The Ngai Tahu tribe had acquired more animals, and with the addition of Cat’s Rambouillets, they would join the ranks of the most serious wool producers on the island.

  “But Chris will want to see you,” Karl said, trying again.

  “I already said he can come see me. But it doesn’t make any sense to take a two-mile detour with the entire herd. Give him my best!”

  She whistled to Chasseur, and Ottfried’s collies followed enthusiastically too. They ignored the calls of their master, and Ottfried acted as though Cat was trying to steal them.

  “She’ll bring them back,” Karl assured him. “Besides, you should have practiced with them. Dogs don’t know who they belong to. They obey the person who spends the most time with them.”

  As expected, Chris was unhappy about Cat’s decision, even though Karl had told him the reason and conveyed her invitation. The first person to get a look at Cat’s sheep in the Maori village, however, was Jane. She went there first thing the next day and found Cat in animated conversation with Te Haitara.