by Sarah Lark
At that, he pulled Linda into his arms and kissed her. It was a long, tender kiss, which became wild and passionate as the young woman responded to it. Fitz pulled her tightly against his chest until it hurt, as though he wanted to be sure that nothing could ever come between them. Linda was out of breath when he finally released her.
“So?” he asked gently. “Still nothing but respect?”
“No,” Linda admitted. “I—I think I love you.”
Chapter 24
Over the next few months, slowly and patiently, Joe Fitzpatrick helped Linda discover what it meant to be in love. He anticipated her every wish, and was gentle, caring, and passionate. And he never went any further physically than Linda wanted to. He kissed and caressed her, and enjoyed unbuttoning her dress and pleasuring her body with his hands. If she hesitated or stiffened, he stopped immediately. Linda felt safe in Fitz’s arms, and she felt that he took her seriously. When they weren’t kissing and touching, they were talking for hours. In addition to sharing her confusion and grief over the shipwreck, Linda told him about her entire life, about Chris, Cat, Karl, and Ida, and about Rata Station and Sankt Pauli Village. Fitz listened attentively and made her feel that she was the center of the universe.
Fitz didn’t talk much about himself, but Linda never felt as though he were keeping secrets. After all, he answered all of her questions willingly. She thought she knew the story of his life, but every time Carol asked Linda how he’d learned to do something, she was annoyed and ashamed that she didn’t know the answers. But those were just tiny drops of bitterness in the sea of love that Linda was losing herself in.
At the same time, Rata Station was flourishing. The wool harvest was even better than it had been the previous year, the lambing had gone quickly and smoothly, and Linda had an entire herd of top-quality yearlings for sale. The most famous breeder on the South Island was interested in buying them. Not even Carol’s grim predictions about Joe Fitzpatrick’s promotion to foreman had come true.
Of course the men were displeased at first that their boss’s lover had been promoted over them. But Fitz managed to impress them with his knowledge of sheep breeding and the management of farm businesses. No one knew for sure how much he’d already known and how much he was learning from Chris’s books, which he studied at a blistering pace. Additionally, he was friendly, genuine, and understanding with the farmhands. Fitz bantered with them, but at the same time displayed authority when he needed to. Even the skeptical Carol wondered if she’d been mistaken about him. Perhaps he really was the right person to manage the farm with Linda.
Only the Maori didn’t warm up to the new foreman. Te Haitara still felt that Fitz had taken advantage of his men in poker. He didn’t talk to Linda about it, but there had been more dissent when Fitz had given back the money. And Jane had a basic mistrust of anyone with such a relaxed attitude toward life, even though the young man also impressed her. He could do figures just as quickly as she could, and was adept at dealmaking. He bargained down the price for transporting the fleeces from Rata Station and Maori Station to Christchurch so much that it actually embarrassed Te Haitara. But amazingly, he managed not to annoy the contractor when he did it. To the contrary, the man and Fitz parted as friends.
“He’s a born salesman!” Joseph, the elder of the Redwood brothers, said with a laugh. “That man will convince you in three minutes flat that every ewe from Rata Station can be shorn three times a year and bear five lambs. Where did you dig him up, Linda? He’s certainly useful. Though perhaps a little, uh, slick.”
Joseph chose his words carefully. News of Linda’s relationship with her new foreman had gotten around. Now Joseph sat in Rata Station’s large kitchen to negotiate a price for the flock. Fitz had wanted to join them, but Joseph insisted on speaking with Linda and Carol alone. The young man wasn’t happy about it, and neither was Linda. Still, she didn’t want to contradict her fatherly friend.
Now she blushed. “He arrived with the shearing brigade,” she replied vaguely. “And he’s not slick, just friendly.”
Joseph Redwood furrowed his brow. “Friendly? You hire people because they’re friendly? Good, that’s your business. I—”
“Are you interested in the lambs?” Linda asked coolly. “We wanted to offer them to you first. They’re all from Butler’s ram.”
Joseph Redwood chewed on his cigar and gazed thoughtfully out the window. The recently weaned lambs were standing in a pen in the farmyard. Fitz moved toward the gate as though he were ready to open it and drive them back out to the pasture.
“The lambs are excellent,” Joseph said. “That’s not the problem.” He put out his cigar and toyed with a coffee cup.
Linda was confused. “Is something stopping you from buying them, Mr. Redwood?” she asked. “Is it the price? I thought it was appropriate.”
“No, lass. The price is completely in order. It’s just that I don’t know if we can do business with you—or with the two of you, rather.” He rubbed his forehead, looking a little embarrassed when he saw Linda’s injured look and the flash of anger in Carol’s eyes. “That is, I have nothing against you girls. You have everything under control. Chris and Cat would be proud. It’s just—the conditions at Rata Station—good Lord, you’re making this difficult for me!”
“What about the conditions at Rata Station?” Carol asked with annoyance.
Joseph Redwood pulled himself up straighter. “You aren’t officially cleared as owners, Carol. You and Linda are operating a business here, but with Chris and Cat still legally missing, no one knows if everything is in order or not. Another heir could nullify everything.”
“Another heir?” Linda asked in amazement. “Aside from Carol and Mara and me, there are no heirs. And Carol will be married soon. Of course she’s receiving sheep as a dowry, as planned. Chris promised the same number of sheep to Mara, and we’re sticking to his decision. We’re in total agreement.”
Carol nodded.
“You and Linda may be in agreement,” Redwood said, “but the Butlers definitely want more. If I know old Butler, he’ll demand half of Rata Station once Carol marries Oliver. And what about when Mara marries? Not to mention, we’re afraid that Chris could have relatives in England who might suddenly want their share. That’s unlikely, but it must be cleared up. Do yourself a favor, girls, and have Chris and Cat declared dead. The shipwreck was a year ago now.”
“But they still could be alive,” Linda said. “Castaways have been found after much longer. And they could have survived on some island easily. Cat used to live with the Maori, and Chris had to make his own way everywhere.” When Captain Butler had expressed the same misgivings months before, Linda had been furious. But now there were tears in her eyes. “If we give up on them, it would be a betrayal.”
Joseph Redwood shook his head. “Nonsense! Nothing that you do here has any kind of influence on whether Chris and Cat are alive. If they are really found, which God knows I wish from my deepest heart, then the declaration of death will be nullified. But now you need transparency at Rata Station. Is there a will, by the way?”
Linda and Carol had to admit that they didn’t know.
Joseph raised his eyebrows. “You should find out as soon as possible,” he advised the sisters. “Until you do, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on the lambs. You’ll find that the other breeders will see things the same way.”
At first, the sisters ignored Joseph’s concerns, and continued to offer the lambs to other breeders. But their old friend turned out to be right. Other neighbors, too, advised the sisters in more or less diplomatic words to clarify the situation at Rata Station. Linda finally discussed it with Fitz, and Carol talked to Oliver. Carol finally had a little more time to spend with her fiancé.
“Darling, that’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself,” he remarked between kisses. The two of them had ridden out for a picnic and had taken another bottle of Cat’s wine with them. But Oliver was hungrier for love than for the cold roast la
mb. He couldn’t keep his hands or lips off Carol. “My father thinks you should declare Cat and Chris dead, and that the line should finally be drawn. Personally, I would leave things as they are. All that hassle with the notary and municipal authorities . . .” He reached out to unbutton Carol’s dress.
“It has nothing to do with the notary or any of that,” Carol replied. “It’s more about what Chris and Cat would have done. Linda has the feeling we’d be betraying them if we act as though they’re dead.”
She sighed when she saw Oliver’s uncomprehending face.
Fitz reacted to Linda much more considerately. “Mr. Redwood is right,” he said when she told him about the conversation. “The death declaration would be instantly nullified if your mother and Mr. Fenroy returned. And it’s not as though you want to change anything here. You don’t want to sell the farm or separate it, rename it, or do anything else that Miss Cat and Mr. Chris wouldn’t have done themselves.”
“But we’ll have to file the document. When—when we sign it, we’ll be saying that they’re dead,” Linda said, and began to cry.
Fitz kissed her tears away. “Nonsense! You’ll just be putting your name on a sheet of paper. That has no sway with the universe or the spirits or fate, or whatever it is you’re afraid of. Light it on fire and let the wind take the ashes. Lindy, darling, there are thousands of people in this world who can’t even read a form like that! It would be different if you set up a gravestone for Cat and Chris, or had a funeral for them. You don’t have to do that, do you?”
Linda wiped the tears off her cheeks. “People are acting as though they expect us to,” she murmured.
“Forget those people!” Fitz made a dismissive gesture. “Forget the document too. Once it’s signed, no one will ask you about it anymore. If you want, we can go to the closest Maori sacred site by night and burn it, and conjure Chris’s and Cat’s spirits. Maybe you’ll reach them. Don’t the Maori believe in telepathy?”
Linda smiled through her tears. “No. They say the Aborigines in Australia do. But my mother’s brother Franz says it’s nonsense.”
“As a reverend, he’s not allowed to believe in any spirit but the Holy Ghost,” Fitz said unworriedly. “Just think about it, Linda. And don’t believe you’re doing anything to hurt Chris and Cat. Think about what would be best for you, and how you can get by in life most easily. Cat and Chris always wanted the best for you, didn’t they?”
Fitz’s argument finally gave Linda the strength to make a decision. It was also he who comforted her before she made her way with a heavy heart to the notary and public officials in Christchurch. Deborah Butler had suggested that she wear mourning clothes. Fitz thought it wasn’t necessary.
“You don’t have to look like a black crow just because you’re signing some sheet of paper. And you don’t have to be all morose in Christchurch. Enjoy your day, and go out for a good meal!”
Fitz didn’t accompany Linda and Carol to Christchurch himself. Deborah Butler sent her son to support the girls “in their time of need.” And Oliver was certainly successful at cheering Carol up. In fact, half of Christchurch was gossiping about them afterward. They complained that the Fenroys’ heirs had been celebrating in the rowing club after they had filed papers to declare Chris and Cat dead.
“We still don’t want a funeral,” Linda told Laura Redwood, who had hesitantly mentioned the gossip to her, and had suggested ways to minimize the damage. “Chris and Cat are alive! I’m sure of it.”
The judge in Christchurch saw things differently. It only took a few days to verify Linda’s and Carol’s statements, and to verify the shipwreck with the shipping company. No further survivors had been found, and the General Lee had not sunk in the immediate vicinity of an island where anyone could have been stranded. The disaster had occurred 250 miles from the closest of the Auckland Islands, and the area was seldom traveled by ship, as Carol and Linda had found out in Campbelltown. The captains of the few ships to pass the islands had been asked, however, and they hadn’t seen any signs of life.
Based on this information, the judge officially declared Catherine Rata and Christopher Fenroy dead on January 10, 1865. All the other missing passengers and crew members of the General Lee had been given up on much earlier.
“The will, if there was one, could now be opened,” said Mr. Whitaker, a lawyer from Christchurch who had been helping Linda and Carol. “Unfortunately, neither Mr. Fenroy nor Miss Rata left one.”
“But we know what they would have wanted,” Carol said. “Can’t we just do it that way?”
The lawyer frowned. “It’s a little more complicated than that, even though we’re hoping for some compassion from the judge. Chris Fenroy was fairly well known, as was your relationship to him. And over the last few weeks, you haven’t exactly, well, behaved like ladies. There’s been loose talk about you both. Neither of you displayed any mourning when you declared their deaths, and you have planned no funeral.”
“That’s because we don’t believe they’re dead!” Linda exclaimed.
The lawyer made a conciliatory gesture. “I know that, Miss Linda,” he said. “And I can understand your position. But that doesn’t change the fact that, legally, we must search for other potential heirs. If we don’t find any, the justice of the peace and the governor will settle the issue out of court. Perhaps after questioning friends and acquaintances. There must be other people who know about Mr. Fenroy and Miss Rata’s intentions for the inheritance of the farm.”
Carol nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. The Redwoods, the Deanses, the Butlers, and Karl and Ida Jensch.”
“Jane and Te Haitara as well,” Linda added. “Basically, anyone Chris and Cat knew well.”
The lawyer nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Then it shouldn’t be a problem. We won’t have to go to great lengths with the search for other heirs, provided these acquaintances support your claim. For example, I find it unnecessary to advertise in England. Chris Fenroy has been living in New Zealand for decades, and Catherine has no relatives, anyway. We’ll put advertisements in the Timaru Herald and the Otago Daily Times, and also in newspapers in Auckland and Wellington. Then we’ll wait for four weeks at the most.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Linda said. “And as far as the gossip goes, my, uh, our foreman had a good idea. We could have a kind of party at Rata Station for Cat and Chris. Invite a few people to celebrate them, but not to mourn. Do you know what I mean?”
The lawyer suppressed a smirk, obviously having heard the gossip about Linda and Joe Fitzpatrick. “Your foreman,” he said slowly, “is very clever.”
A week later, Linda and Carol invited their friends and neighbors over to “keep the memory of Chris and Cat alive,” as Fitz put it. The celebration was very touching. The Redwoods, the Deanses, and Te Haitara told stories about Chris and Cat’s life together without using the word “death” even once. Makuto, the Ngai Tahu priestess, conjured the spirits and sent greetings from everyone present to Chris and Cat, wherever they happened to be. Then she focused on Linda, sensing her connection to Cat. She sang a karakia and helped Linda send thoughts and good wishes along the aka bond between daughter and mother. Linda wept with deep emotion. She had almost stopped believing in the bond. The fact that Makuto could also “see” Cat strengthened her conviction that she would see her mother again someday.
Mara played the koauau and sang Cat’s favorite songs, accompanied by Maori musicians and Irish farmhands. Most of the women had tears in their eyes, and even the men were sniffling. Laura Redwood said a prayer. Only Deborah Butler observed the events without emotion. This was clearly not what she felt a funeral ceremony should be.
Captain Butler, on the other hand, seemed satisfied after asking the girls about plans for the inheritance. “Of course, we’ll have to talk more about the details later,” he remarked.
Oliver devoured Carol with his eyes. She was too much at the center of attention for him to touch her or kiss her. But he still whispered incessantly in
her ear.
“Just a few more weeks until the wedding,” he said softly. “I can hardly wait.”
Carol, who wasn’t really feeling the urge for physical affection on that emotional day, wished that he would just hold her hand the way Fitz held Linda’s. It was clearly intended to be comforting, and not at all clandestine. Fitz somehow managed to do it in such a way that no one saw the gesture as inappropriate or possessive, but rather an expression of fondness and sympathy.
Two days after the party, Georgie brought a letter from the lawyer. The sisters opened it right at the dock after he’d rowed away. Mr. Whitaker had invited Linda and Carol to a meeting in Christchurch.
“‘It is with regret that I must inform you that someone has made a claim to Christopher Fenroy’s legacy,’” Carol read aloud.
Linda gave her a startled look. “Who?” she whispered.
Carol looked up, her eyes dark with anger. “Jane Fenroy-Beit,” she said. “His wife. In the name of his son, Eric Fenroy!”
Chapter 25
“Mrs. Fenroy is in possession of a valid marriage contract,” the lawyer said. Linda and Carol had gone to see him the day after receiving his letter. “She also has a birth certificate for her son, which was prepared by the magistrate here in Christchurch. That’s incontestable.”
“But she divorced Chris!” Linda cried. “It was years ago. She’s married to Te Haitara now.”
“Are there any documents?” Mr. Whitaker asked, his brow furrowed. “To my knowledge, divorces have to be made by way of England. That’s very complicated and very expensive. There must be a record of it in Chris Fenroy’s papers.”
Carol cleared her throat. “They, uh, were divorced in a Maori ritual called karakia toko. The divorce is official in the eyes of tribal law. Jane married again immediately afterward, also in the Maori tradition.”
The lawyer rubbed his temples. “Well, the divorce and the new marriage may be binding for the Maori, but they certainly aren’t for the Crown. Mrs. Fenroy is appealing to that fact now, and demands the inheritance for her son, Eric.”
