In the Land of the Long White Cloud

one was looking, and never again would she chide him for taking such a risk.
    She continued to postpone the moment of truth longer and longer.
    But it couldn’t go on like that. Gwyneira had just returned from riding when James waved to her, pulling her into an empty horse stall with a smile. He wanted to kiss her, but Gwyneira extricated herself from his embrace.
    “Not here, James…”
    “But tomorrow, in the ring of stone warriors. I’m herding the ewes out. If you want, you can come along. I’ve already mentioned to Mr. Warden that I could really use Cleo.” He winked at her meaningfully. “That wasn’t even a lie. We’ll leave the sheep to her and Daimon, and the two of us will play a little game of ‘survival in the wilderness.’”
    “Sorry, James.” Gwyneira did not know how to break the news. “But we can’t do it anymore.”
    James frowned. “What can’t we do anymore? Are you busy tomorrow? Is there another visitor coming? Mr. Warden didn’t mention anything.”
    Gerald Warden seemed to have been increasingly lonely the last few months. He had been inviting more guests to stay at Kiward Station, usually wool merchants or newly well-off settlers to whom he could show off his exemplary farm by day and with whom he could get soused at night.
    Gwyneira shook her head. “No, James, it’s just…I’m pregnant.” There. The truth was out.
    “You’re pregnant? That’s wonderful!” On impulse James took her in his arms and swung her around. “Oh yes, you’ve already gotten heavier,” he teased her. “Soon I won’t even be able to lift the two of you.”
    When he saw that she wasn’t smiling, he promptly became serious. “What is it, Gwyn? Aren’t you happy?”
    “Of course I’m happy,” Gwyneira said, blushing. “But I’m also a little sorry. It…it’s been fun with you.”
    James laughed. “Well, there’s no reason to stop right away.” He tried to kiss her, but she pushed him away.
    “It’s not about desire!” she said sternly. “It’s about morality. We can’t anymore.” She looked at him. In her gaze was sorrow, but also determination.
    “Gwyn, am I hearing you right?” James asked, shocked. “You want to call it quits, to throw away everything that we had together? I thought you loved me.”
    “It doesn’t have anything to do with love,” Gwyneira said quietly. “I’m married, James. I’m not allowed to love another man. And we agreed from the start that you were only helping me to…to bless my marriage with a child.” She hated that she sounded so pathetic, but she didn’t know how else to express it. And she didn’t want to cry under any circumstances.
    “Gwyneira, I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. It just…happened, like rain or sunshine. You can’t change something like that.”
    “When it rains, you can seek shelter,” Gwyneira said softly. “And when the sun’s out, find shade. I can’t stop the rain or heat, but I don’t have to get wet or sunburned.”
    James pulled her to him. “Gwyneira, I know you love me too. Come with me. We’ll leave here and start from scratch somewhere else.”
    “And where will we go, James?” she asked, mocking him in order not to sound desperate. “What sheep farm will you work on when it becomes known that you abducted Lucas Warden’s wife? The whole South Island knows the Wardens. Do you think Gerald will let you get away with that?”
    “Are you married to Gerald or Lucas? And regardless which of the two—neither one stands a chance against me!” James balled his fists.
    “Is that so? And how do you intend to compete with them? Fisticuffs or pistols? And then are we supposed to flee into the wilderness to live off nuts and berries?” Gwyneira hated fighting with him. She had hoped to bring everything to a peaceful conclusion with a kiss—bittersweet and heavy as fate, like in a Bulwer-Lytton novel.
    “But you like life in the wilderness. Or were you lying? Are you really better suited to the luxury here on Kiward Station? Is it important to you to be the wife of a sheep baron, to throw big parties, to be rich?” James was trying to sound angry, but his words spoke of bitterness instead.
    Gwyneira suddenly felt tired. “James, let’s not fight. You know none of that is important to me. But I gave my word. I
am
a sheep baron’s wife. I’d keep it just the same if I were a beggar’s wife.”
    “You broke your word when you shared a bed with me!” James flared up.