Song of the Spirits (23 page)

“Man, do you fellas also feel like we’ve gone back in time tonight? Feels to me like when Gwyn married the younger Mr. Warden, that good-for-nothing,” Andy observed casually, taking another sip of whiskey. He passed the bottle to Poker. “But it could have gone worse.”

“Oh, come on, the new guy’s no better,” Poker said. William had really gotten on Poker’s bad side.

James reflected, taking another sip of his whiskey as he did so, which made the speech that followed a little unsteady: “If… you ask me, both of them… were… are… good-for-nothing do-nothings. Lucas Warden, he did nothing real quiet… so no one heard him. But this one here… Even if Gwyn doesn’t want to see it… he does nothing loud and clear. He’ll do nothing loud enough for everyone to hear.”

R
uben O’Keefe was in a bad mood, and Fleurette had not come into town at all. She had excused herself by claiming that there was urgent work to be done around the house for the next few days. This had nothing to do with the fact that Kura and William Martyn’s wedding was being celebrated on faraway Kiward Station. Ruben had long since forgotten the young man; in general, he was not one to hold grudges. In fact, his patience for his fellow man knew only one exception: John Sideblossom of Lionel Station. And at that moment, he, of all people, was running about Queenstown, accompanied by his son. Helen had even rented the pair a room, which Ruben almost held against her.

“Now, do not behave like a child!” his mother said resolutely. “That fellow is no gentleman, of course, even though he acts like one. But I can hardly turn him out because he tried to woo my daughter-in-law twenty years ago.”

“He tried to rape her!” Ruben clarified.

“There is no doubt that he went too far, but that was a long time ago. And Gerald Warden had encouraged him in his delusion that she would be the ideal wife for him,” Helen said.

“And James? Are you going to excuse him for nabbing James too?”

After years of searching for James McKenzie in vain, John Sideblossom had been the leader of the company that had finally hunted the livestock thief down.

“You can hardly blame him for that,” Helen said. “He was not the only one nettled by the animal thefts, and James did not exactly cover himself in glory doing that, even though you now paint him as though he were Robin Hood in the flesh. His behavior during the arrest, that
was something else entirely. Sideblossom behaved insufferably there again. But that proved to be almost a stroke of luck. Otherwise, they might have seized Fleurette too, and if that had happened, there would be no O’Kay Warehouse today.”

Ruben did not like to think about it, but it was true that the initial capital for the business had come from James’s thieving. Fleurette had been there with her father when John cornered him, but she had been able to flee during the general mayhem surrounding the arrest.

“You’re acting as though I should be grateful to Sideblossom,” mumbled Ruben biliously.

“Just polite,” Helen said, laughing. “Simply treat him like any other customer. In a few days, he’ll move on. Then you can spend the next few months forgetting about him. Besides, you make a lot of money from him every time he comes to town, so don’t complain.”

It was true that John Sideblossom came to Queenstown no more than once or twice a year. He did some business with a sheep farmer in the area. Then he took the opportunity to all but buy out the O’Kay Warehouse’s stock, to which he had recently added orders for building materials and furniture, as he had just gotten married again—the way powerful men so often did. His wife, Zoé, was the twenty-year-old daughter of a West Coast gold digger who had come into money quickly and lost it just as quickly to failed investments. According to the gossip in Queenstown, the girl was gorgeous, but also spoiled and difficult—though almost no one had gotten an actual glimpse of her yet. Lionel Station, the Sideblossoms’ farm, lay in a beautiful area, but was a considerable distance from any other settlements on the western arm of Lake Pukaki. It was several days’ ride from Queenstown, and John’s young wife seemed disinclined to follow her husband on these strenuous expeditions. Naturally, people—and the female population in particular—wondered what such a young woman did up there all alone. But then again, the question was not so pressing to the women of Queenstown that anyone went to the trouble of paying a neighborly visit.

“Did you not bring Lainie along?” Helen asked, finally changing the subject. “With Fleurette refusing to leave the house? We could
both use a little help, don’t you think? The twins can’t exactly split themselves into three.”

Laurie and Mary worked as chambermaids at Helen’s or as sales personnel at the O’Kay Warehouse, depending on where they were needed.

Ruben laughed. “Then the confusion would be complete. Another completely identical blonde with a name ending in an ‘ee’ sound. No one would believe it. But you’re right. I could use Elaine. It’s just that Fleur turns into such a mother hen whenever Sideblossom comes to town. She’d like to wrap Lainie from head to toe or, better yet, not let her out of the house. All that, even though she’s become so shy and dresses like a church mouse. Sideblossom wouldn’t spare her a second look.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “Besides, the man is over sixty. He’s in good shape, I’ll grant you, but not the type to move in on an underage girl at the reception desk of a hotel.”

Ruben laughed. “Fleur thinks him capable of anything. But maybe Lainie will come in this afternoon. She must be starting to get cabin fever at home. And she doesn’t like playing the piano anymore.” He sighed.

Helen’s face turned grim. “I am not a violent person, but I wish the plague on this William Martyn. Lainie was such a fun-loving, happy little thing.”

“She’ll get over it,” Ruben said. “And as for the plague, Georgie is saying William already has it. He thinks William’s marriage to Kura is just about the worst thing that could happen to a man. Should I be worried about him, do you think?”

Helen laughed. “Maybe Georgie’s showing a keen eye. Let us hope he keeps his good sense regarding people’s inner virtues until he’s of marriageable age. Do send Lainie over to me if she comes into town, won’t you? She can watch the front desk. I have to see to dinner. Both Sideblossoms will be present, so I can’t just serve vegetable soup.”

Elaine did in fact come to town that afternoon. She had ridden out to a nearby sheep farm to train Callie, as the border collie needed some experience with sheep. Since there were no sheep at Nugget Manor at the moment, Elaine rode out to the Stevers’ place. Fleurette was not very keen on this outing. The Stevers, German immigrants, were reclusive people who only rarely let themselves be seen in Queenstown and did not have any friends. Fleurette thought that the middle-aged wife looked unhappy and haggard, but Elaine didn’t really concern herself with them. She had met the owners of the farm only a couple of times, and came into contact only with their shepherds, almost all of whom were Maori.

A tribe had taken up residence on the farm a few weeks before, and the Maori welcomed Elaine and Callie good-naturedly. Neither the dog nor the girl was an imposition on them, and they had proved helpful. They often invited Elaine to eat with them or to come to their tribal celebrations, and they frequently gave her fish and sweet potatoes to take back to her mother. Since the incident with William, Elaine had spent more time with the Maori than with the girls her own age in town. Fleurette had noticed this, but was unconcerned. She, too, had grown up with Maori playmates and spoke their language fluently. She even accompanied Elaine sometimes to refresh her language skills and meet her daughter’s new friends. The Maori had begun to come into town more often to shop at the O’Kay Warehouse—which caused Mrs. Stever to complain. Her workers had started asking for more money, she explained during her rare visits to Queenstown. Until then, they had always paid their shepherds and maids in produce, cheating them heftily at that.

However, there was little for the Maori to do on Stever Station that day, and what was worse, one of the girls had told Elaine that they were planning to migrate soon. The Stevers’ sheep would be up in the highlands for the summer, after all, and Mr. Stever was cheap. He paid his workers only on a per diem basis, when he had a specific need for them. That being the case, the tribe planned to depart for a few months to fish and hunt in the highlands, and then return in the fall to herd the sheep back down to the lowlands. That was of the
traditional Maori way, and they seemed to be looking forward to it. But a sad summer lay ahead for Elaine and Callie.

Now they were desperately looking for something to do. On that day in particular, Elaine did not feel like brooding. The wedding was taking place, after all. In its way, it had been touching of her mother not to tell her exactly what time the ceremony was, but of course Elaine had found out anyway. It did not hurt as much anymore. If she had been wise, she would never have gotten her own hopes up. Up against a girl like Kura, she could not help but lose.

Filled with gloomy thoughts, she led Banshee to her grandmother’s stables. To her surprise, she found two horses there that she did not recognize, one more beautiful than the other. Both were black, a gelding and a stallion. The stallion was unusual. Most farmers, even the wealthy sheep barons, preferred mares and geldings because they were easier to handle. And yet this fellow here seemed perfectly trained. He hardly stirred when Elaine led Banshee past him. The mare had already been covered, though, and would soon be having Owen’s foal.

The gelding, unquestionably of Arab pedigree, was almost as handsome as the stallion, and was likely his son or brother. It was unlikely that someone had bought two such similar animals independently of each other. So it must be two riders who had come to town together. Elaine’s curiosity was piqued, and she planned to ask her grandmother about it.

Elaine took the most direct path between the stable and the house, only casually brushing the dirt and horsehair from her riding dress. She did not plan to change her clothes, and she had tied her hair back carelessly. Regardless of whether she would be helping in the kitchen or the store, she did not want anyone to notice her.

One of the twins was waiting at the reception desk, looking through a supply catalog and clearly bored.

“Oh, hello, Lainie! And Callie!” She laughed radiantly and petted the dog, who immediately jumped up on her, wagging her tail. Elaine was convinced that Callie could tell the difference between the twins. She, however, still had to guess. Her grandmother had said
Mary was the more outgoing one. So she was more likely to be at the front desk while Laurie cooked.

She tried her luck. “Hi, Mary!”

The twin giggled. “Laurie. Mary is helping out in the store. Even though we have so much to do. Mrs. O’Keefe has several guests, and we have to cook. But now you’re here. Mrs. O’Keefe said you’re to take over the front desk, so I can finally get to work in the kitchen.”

Elaine was not particularly pleased about that arrangement, as she no longer enjoyed working at the reception desk. On the other hand, she couldn’t really take care of the cooking on her own. She didn’t even know what Helen wanted to serve. So she obediently took Laurie’s place. Callie followed Laurie into the kitchen, where something tasty often fell down for her.

At least Elaine could satisfy her curiosity. The new guests must have written their names down, so she would quickly be able to learn whose horses those were in the stables.

John and Thomas Sideblossom.

Elaine almost had to laugh. If her mother only knew she had just fallen into the lion’s den. She knew the old stories about John Sideblossom but did not take them very seriously. Besides, that had all been twenty years ago—half an eternity for a young Elaine. In any event, there was no reason for Fleurette to still be unsettled by him. Elaine had seen him from a distance before and had not found him so terrifying. A tall, muscular man with weathered skin and longish, dark hair that had probably gone gray. His haircut had been somewhat unconventional, but otherwise he did not strike her as so outlandish. Elaine’s mother had always talked about his “cold eyes,” but Elaine had never gotten that close to him. Nor, for that matter, had Fleurette in the last twenty years. She always barricaded herself in her room as soon as she heard he was coming to town.

Elaine heard steps on the front porch and froze. She would have like to make herself invisible, but she had to smile and receive the hotel’s guests. She lowered her gaze as the colorful wind chime that Helen had hung at the entrance announced the arrival of a guest.

“Good evening, Miss O’Keefe! Nice to see you here again.”

Thank goodness it was only Mr. Dipps, the older of the two bankers. Elaine nodded at him.

“You’re early, Mr. Dipps,” she observed, looking for his key.

“I have to go back to the bank later. Mr. Stever wants to discuss a loan and cannot come in during normal hours since he has to see to his animals then. He’s complaining that his Maori are taking off, but it’s his own fault for not hiring people on for the whole year. Oh well, since I’m going to be working late, I came back a little early. Would it be possible for me to make use of the bathhouse, Miss O’Keefe? Or would that be too much to ask of you?”