In the Land of the Long White Cloud

world.”
    “Where else have you been?” Gwyneira asked eagerly. She found James fascinating.
    He grinned. “Scotland. That’s where I come from. A true Highlander. But I’m no lord or chieftain; my clan were always common folk. Knew sheep better than long swords.”
    Gwyneira found that a bit of a shame. A Scottish warrior would have been almost as captivating as an American cowboy.
    “And you, miss? Did you really grow up in a castle, like they say?” James turned again to look at her. But he appeared not to be interested in gossip. Gwyneira sensed that he was honestly curious about her.
    “I grew up in a manor house,” she informed him. “My father is a lord—not one of those who sit on the royal council, however.” She smiled. “In a way we have something in common: the Silkhams also prefer sheep to swords.”
    “And for you is it…forgive my asking, but I always thought…aren’t ladies supposed to marry lords?”
    That was indeed a rather indiscreet question, but Gwyneira decided not to hold it against him.
    “Ladies are supposed to marry gentlemen,” she replied uncertainly. Then her temper got the better of her. “And naturally, there was a lot of idle chatter in England about my husband being only a ‘sheep baron’ without real patents of nobility. But like they say, it’s nice when you have the title to a thoroughbred of your own. But you don’t ride on paper.”
    James laughed so heartily that he almost fell from the box. “Don’t ever say that in society, miss! You’d be compromised for all time. But I’m beginning to get the impression that it was difficult for you to find a gentleman in England.”
    “I had plenty of suitors!” Gwyneira lied, insulted. “And Lucas has yet to complain.”
    “Then he must be dumb and blind too,” James burst out, but before he could elaborate on his comment, Gwyneira noticed a settlement on a plain below the ridge they were passing over.
    “Is that Haldon?” she asked.
    James nodded.
    Haldon seemed to perfectly mirror the pioneer towns described in Gwyneira’s penny novels; just like in those books, it had a general store, a barber, a smith, a hotel, and a bar, which was called a “pub” here and not a “saloon.” All the merchants were located in colorfully painted two-story buildings.
    James stopped the wagon in front of the Candlers’ store.
    “Take your time shopping,” he said. “I’m loading the wood first, then going to the barber, and for a beer at the pub after that. So there’s no hurry. If you’d like, you could have tea with Mrs. Candler.”
    Gwyneira smiled at him conspiratorially. “Maybe she’ll even teach me a few recipes. Mr. Warden has been asking for Yorkshire pudding. Do you know how to make that?”
    James shook his head. “I’m afraid not even O’Toole knows how to do that. Anyway, see you soon, miss.”
    He held out his hand to help her from the box. Gwyneira wondered why the same feeling shot through her at this contact that she otherwise only felt when she touched herself in secret.

7
    G wyneira crossed the dusty town street, which no doubt turned into a sea of mud when it rained, and entered the Candlers’ general store. Mrs. Candler was sorting colorful candies into tall glass jars, but seemed more than willing to take a break. She greeted Gwyneira enthusiastically.
    “Mrs. Warden, what a surprise! And what luck. Do you have time for a cup of tea? Dorothy’s making some right now. She’s in the back with Mrs. O’Keefe.”
    “With whom?” Gwyneira asked, her heart leaping. “You don’t mean Helen O’Keefe?” She could hardly believe it.
    Mrs. Candler nodded, delighted. “Oh, that’s right, you knew her as Miss Davenport. Well, my husband and I were the ones who got to inform her fiancé of her arrival. And as I heard it, he was in Christchurch quick as lightning and brought her right back with him. Just go on back, Mrs. Warden. I’ll be right along, as soon as Richard gets back.”
    “Go on back,” meant to the Candlers’ living quarters, which were attached to the spacious store. Yet it did not seem at all temporary and was tastefully furnished with expensive-looking furniture made from native woods. Large windows allowed plenty of light in and offered a view of the wood store behind the house, where James was just receiving his order. Mr. Candler was helping him load it.
    And Helen really was there in the lounge! She was sitting on a chaise lounge upholstered in green velvet,