In the Land of the Long White Cloud

McKenzie did not sleep at all. He spent the day in a state of obvious suspense and skulked that night into the garden outside Gwyneira’s window. He was the only one who heard her cries. Helpless, with balled fists and tears in his eyes, he waited. No one told him whether it was going well, and he feared for Gwyneira’s life with every cry. Finally something furry and soft brushed up against him, someone else who had been forgotten. Francine had mercilessly cast Cleo out of Gwyneira’s room, and neither Lucas nor Gerald had paid any attention to her. She whined when she heard Gwyneira’s screams.
    “Sorry, Gwyn, I’m so sorry,” James whispered into Cleo’s silky hair.
    He was still embracing the dog when he suddenly heard another cry, this time softer, but stronger and rather higher than Gwyneira’s. The baby greeted the new morning’s first ray of light. And Gwyneira accompanied it with a final painful scream.
    James cried with relief into Cleo’s soft fur.

    Lucas awoke right away when Kiri stepped onto the landing holding the baby in her arms. She stood there like an actor, fully aware of the importance of her role. Lucas wondered briefly why Francine wasn’t presenting the child to him herself, but Kiri was beaming from ear to ear, so he assumed that mother and child were both fine.
    “Is everything…all right?” he nevertheless asked dutifully, standing up to approach the young woman.
    Gerald stumbled to his feet as well. “Is he here?” he asked. “And healthy?”
    “Yes, Mr. Warden!” Kiri rejoiced. “A beautiful baby. Beautiful. Has red hair like mother!”
    “A little firebrand!” said Gerald, laughing. “He’s the first red-haired Warden.”
    “I think, not called ‘he,’” Kiri corrected him, “called ‘she.’ Is girl, Mr. Warden. Beautiful girl!”

    Francine suggested naming the baby “Paulette,” but Gerald resisted. “Paul” was to be reserved for the male heir. Lucas, ever the gentleman, appeared at Gwyneira’s bedside with a red rose an hour after the birth, assuring her in measured tones that he found the child adorable. Gwyneira only nodded. How else would anyone have described this perfect little creation that she now held proudly in her arms? She couldn’t get enough of the individual fingers, the button nose, or the long red eyelashes around the big blue eyes. The baby already had quite a lot of hair. She was an unequivocal redhead like her mother. As Gwyneira stroked her baby, the little thing reached for her finger. She was already astoundingly strong. She would have sure control of the reins…Gwyneira would start teaching her to ride early.
    Lucas suggested “Rose” as a name and had a giant bouquet of red and white roses brought into Gwyneira’s room, which immediately filled the air with their enchanting fragrance.
    “I’ve rarely seen the roses bloom as enchantingly as today, my love. It is as though the garden blossomed especially for the birth of our daughter.” Francine had laid the baby in his arms; he held her ineptly, as though he did not know what to make of her. Still, he spoke the words “our daughter” naturally. He did not seem to entertain any doubts.
    Gwyneira, who was thinking of Diana’s rose garden, responded: “She’s much more beautiful than any rose, Lucas. She’s the most beautiful thing in the world!”
    She took the baby back from him. It was crazy, but she felt a prick of jealousy.
    “Then you’ll have to think of a name yourself, my love,” Lucas said mildly. “I’m sure you’ll find something fitting. But now I must leave you two to take care of Father. He can’t get over the fact that she’s not a boy.”

    A few hours passed before Gerald could pull himself together sufficiently to visit Gwyneira and her daughter. He congratulated the mother halfheartedly and looked the baby over. Only after she wrapped her tiny hand possessively around his finger while blinking did she wring a smile from his lips.
    “Oh well, at least everything is there,” he grumbled reluctantly. “The next will have to be boy. Now that you two know what you’re doing.”
    As Warden closed the door behind him, Cleo slipped in. Happy to have finally succeeded, she trotted over to Gwyneira’s bed, set her front paws on the covers, and gave her best collie smile.
    “Where have you been hiding?” Gwyneira asked, delighted, stroking her dog. “Look here; I want to introduce you to someone!”
    To Francine’s horror, she let the