In the Land of the Long White Cloud

the mare out to her.
    “I could have ridden with a sidesaddle,” Gwyneira remarked. She would have been willing to uphold decorum for their visitor from London.
    Although George did not hear the man’s response, he did see that Gwyneira flushed with anger.
    “Now come, too many people had too much to drink last night on this farm!” she burst out and urged her mare into a trot. George followed her, confused.
    James McKenzie remained in the stables. He could have kicked himself. How could he have lost control like that? The impertinent comment he had just made played over again and again in his mind—“Forgive me. Your daughter said yesterday that she preferred a saddle for ‘grown-ups.’ But if my lady would like to play the little girl today and ride in a sidesaddle…”
    It was unforgivable. If Gwyneira hadn’t figured out for herself what a catch this English fop might be, he had now most certainly shown her.

    Once she had calmed down and reined in her mare so that his rental horse could keep pace with her, George was surprised by the amount of technical information Gwyneira gave him during their tour. Gwyneira obviously knew the breeding operation on Kiward Station forward and backward, and was able to supply him with detailed information regarding the pedigree of each animal and commentary on the successes and failures of breeding.
    “We’re still breeding purebred Welsh Mountains and crossing them with Cheviots—that creates the perfect combination. Both area down type. With Welsh Mountains, you can get thirty-six to forty-eight strands per pound of raw wool; with Cheviots it’s in the range of forty-eight to fifty-six. They complement one another, and the wool quality is consistent. It’s actually not ideal to work with Merinos. That’s what we always tell people who want purebred Welsh Mountain sheep, but most of them think they’re smarter than we are. Merinos produce ‘fine wool,’ which means about sixty to seventy strands per pound. Very nice, but you can’t breed purebreds here; they’re not robust enough for it. And when combined with other breeds, there’s no telling what you’ll get.”
    George understood only half of what she was saying but was impressed by the scope of her knowledge—and became even more so when they successfully reached the highlands where the young rams grazed freely. Gwyneira’s young sheepdogs first herded the flock together, then separated out the two animals that had been sold—which Gwyneira recognized straightaway—and started to steer them placidly back down to the valley. Gwyneira slowed her mare to ride in tempo with the sheep. George took the opportunity to finally move on from the subject of sheep and ask a question that lay much nearer and dearer to his heart.
    “In Christchurch I was told that you know Helen O’Keefe,” he began carefully. In no time, he had a second rendezvous scheduled with the lady of Kiward Station. He would tell Gerald that he wanted to ride to Haldon the next day, and Gwyneira would offer to accompany him part of the way to take Fleur to Helen’s school. In reality, he would follow her all the way to the O’Keefe farm.
    George’s heart beat in his throat. He would finally see her tomorrow!

3
    I f Helen had to describe her life over the last few years—honestly and without the pretty words she used to comfort herself and hopefully impress the recipients of her letters to England—she would have chosen the word “survival.”
    While Howard’s farm had seemed a promising undertaking upon her arrival, it had only gone downhill since Ruben’s birth. While the number of sheep for breeding increased, the quality of the wool only seemed to be getting worse; the losses early in the year had been crushing. After seeing Gerald’s successful attempts with cattle, Howard had also tried his hand at raising a herd.
    “Madness!” Gwyneira said to Helen. “Cattle need much more grass and fodder in winter than sheep,” she explained. “That’s not a problem on Kiward Station. Even counting only the land that’s already been cleared, we could sustain twice the number of sheep. But your land is meager and lies much higher up. Not as much grows up here; you barely have enough to feed the sheep you already have. And cattle on top of that! It’s hopeless. You could try goats. But the best thing would be to get rid of all the livestock you have running around and start again with a few good sheep. It’s about quality,