Toward the Sea of Freedom (75 page)

Michael had no more desire to drink and sleep with Claudia. The blonde whore had been a replacement for Kathleen for a short time. He had been able to bury his face in her light-colored hair and dream of his first love. Claudia was no replacement for Lizzie, and a girl with darker hair and fewer curves would not have made him happier, either. There was simply more to Lizzie—he wanted to talk to her, work with her, and argue with her. He missed her feistiness, her ambition, and her sometimes idiosyncratic understanding of morals and order.

Michael had not stayed long in Kaikoura. There was only one farm for sale in the area, and it was too small to be profitable. The broker in Christchurch knew about two farms in the Canterbury Plains, so Michael made his way there. The landscape was overwhelming: grassland green and lush as in Ireland, but not broken up by fences. The sheep of the grand farmers grazed free in the meadows, overseen only by Maori shepherds and their dogs.

Michael remembered his coup with Fyffe’s dogs. Back then, he had achieved something on his own. The work with the sheep had suited him. He could do that again. Lizzie would not have intervened; she did not know what to do with livestock. But, obviously, she had wanted to choose their house. Michael had gone too far. It had simply been stupid to pick a fight. All their differences would disappear like smoke when Lizzie had her manor and he his sheep.

Michael had had copious time to think—likely too much. He spent most nights on his travels alone at a campfire. His path did not take him to the Maori tribes on the way, and he wouldn’t stop at manors and simply invite himself in. He missed Lizzie’s warmth at night, her company at the fire, her skill at catching fish. Using
pakeha
methods did not work half so well. Michael often ate only the bread and dried meat he bought in the towns through which he passed.

Finding the towns was no longer difficult. The roads in Canterbury were well paved. He could easily have driven them in a small wagon. The first farm Michael viewed was easy to reach, even though it was in the mountains. It was gorgeous, but its location was not ideal for sheep, and it was far removed from any
pakeha
settlement. Lizzie would not care for such isolation.

There was no well-paved approach to the second farm. It lay in the middle of the plains and was big and promising, but the house and stables were nothing more than primitive shacks. The owner had gotten ahead of himself with the amount of land and then had no more money for livestock or construction. Michael and Lizzie had the means for both.

Yet Michael had become unsure when he tried to envision Lizzie’s desires. She had always dreamed of a manor, but did she want to build it too? Would she want to live in primitive conditions for years until everything was finally ready? He had promised her a nest. He wanted to lead her into her kingdom as a prince would a princess. He would not bring her to a piece of land on which he could but draw the outlines of her house-to-be.

So Michael rejected the purchase of this farm too, and made his way back to Otago. The broker had notified him of one other farm. It was near Queenstown, one of the new settlements of gold prospectors, on Lake Wakatipu. The farmhouse was supposed to be lovely, so surely the property was expensive. Perhaps, the broker had said with a wink, there might still be gold on the land. Michael could hardly imagine that, but he had decided to return to Tuapeka, retrieve Lizzie from the Maori, and then travel to Queenstown with her so they could look at it together.

Naturally, he would have to make his apologies first. The closer he got to Tuapeka, the more difficult and less promising the plan seemed to him. What if Lizzie no longer wanted to have anything to do with him? What if she was no longer even in the village? He had left her waiting longer than he had planned. He had written, however. Had the reverend taken the letter up to her? Had she ridden down to check for mail? Damn it. He should have discussed all of that with her before he rode away. He never should have left in anger, and he certainly never should have left without her.

As he rode toward the cabin he had built with Lizzie, his feelings of guilt grew stronger. In his heart, he had hoped she would be there when he arrived, but the house was dark beneath an ice cold, crystal clear night sky. Michael hoped there was still wood in the shed.

At least no one had broken into the cabin and no animals had made their home there. New Zealand’s fauna was limited. There were no rodents, foxes, or hares that would potentially move in. There were a few of the giant weta, and Michael swept the insects outside. Then, he looked for wood and lit the fireplace. Outside, he beat the dirt out of the colorful Maori rug, then he laid it back down in front of the fire before spreading out his sleeping bag on top of it to dry. It was much too quiet in the cabin. Michael hoped he would be able to share it with Lizzie again the next day.

Lizzie thought she was hallucinating when she saw light in the old house. She had hiked a long time. It was dark, and she was freezing. The whole way down from the Maori village, she had looked forward to reaching her little cabin. At least she would have a roof over her head, and with just a little work to get a fire started, the tiny house would quickly be warm and cozy. Now it seemed someone else was there; perhaps other prospectors had occupied it. People coming and going was inherent to prospecting, like whaling and seal hunting before it.

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.