In the Land of the Long White Cloud

neglected to saddle his horse for him, and that after there had nearly been an incident the day before when George had set off for Helen’s farm with Gwyneira. James had led Gwyneira’s mare out equipped with a sidesaddle after Gwyneira had asked him to prepare her mare for another ride with her visitor. Mrs. Warden had made an angry remark, to which he had offered a barbed reply, the only word of which George heard was “ladylike.” At that, Gwyneira had reached for little Fleur in a rage, whom McKenzie had been lifting up to set behind her on Igraine, and forced the girl to ride in front of George.
    “Would you please let Fleur ride with you?” she asked sweet as sugar, casting an almost triumphant look at the shepherd. “I can’t have her with me on the sidesaddle.”
    James McKenzie had stared at George with near murderous rage when he wrapped his arm around the little girl so that she would be secure. There was something brewing between that man and the lady of Kiward Station…but he had no doubt that Gwyneira could take care of herself if she felt put upon. George decided not to get involved and moreover not to say anything to Gerald or Lucas Warden. Itdidn’t concern him—and besides, he needed to keep Gerald in the best possible spirits. After an ample farewell meal and three glasses of whiskey, George made his offer for a flock of purebred Welsh Mountain sheep. An hour later, he was a small fortune poorer, but Helen’s farm would soon be populated with the best breeding stock New Zealand had to offer. Now George only needed to find a few other small farms in need of start-up help to keep Howard from becoming suspicious. But that wouldn’t be difficult; Peter Brewster could give him a few names.
    This new business venture—since that’s how George would have to explain this foray into sheep breeding—meant that George had to prolong his stay on the South Island. The sheep needed to be distributed and the breeders involved in the project observed. The latter was perhaps not necessary since Brewster could probably have recommended partners who knew their work and had come into debts through no fault of their own. But if Helen was to be helped over the long term, Howard O’Keefe would require constant guidance and supervision—diplomatically packaged as help and advice against his archenemy Warden—since O’Keefe was unlikely to follow simple directions. Least of all if they came from the mouth of a manager employed by the Greenwoods. So George would have to stay—a thought that pleased him more and more as he rode through the clear air of the Canterbury Plains. The many hours in the saddle gave him time to think over his situation in England as well. After just a single year of working together, his brother, William, had driven him to despair. While his father deliberately looked the other way, even during George’s rare visits to London he could see his brother’s mistakes and the sometimes horrendous losses the company had to contend with as a result. The pleasure George derived from traveling could in part be traced back to his inability to watch passively. He’d hardly set foot on English soil before chief clerks and managers had come to the junior executive with concerns: “You have to do something, Mr. Greenwood!”—“I’m afraid of being charged with breach of trust, Mr. Greenwood, if things continue like this, but what am I supposed to do?”—“Mr. Greenwood, I gave Mr. William the balancesheets, but I almost get the impression he can’t read them.”—“Please speak to your father, Mr. Greenwood!”
    Naturally, George had tried to do just that, but it was hopeless. Their father attempted again and again to successfully employ William in the company. Instead of limiting his son’s influence, he tried to give him ever more responsibility, hoping that it would guide him onto the right path. But George had had enough of that and, what’s more, feared having to clean up the mess when his father retired.
    This New Zealand branch, however, offered an alternative—if he could only convince his father to leave the Christchurch business entirely in his hands, as an advance of sorts on his inheritance, then he could build up something here that would be safe from William’s escapades. He would have to live more humbly than in England at first, since manor houses like Kiward Station seemed out of place in this newly developed land. Besides, George had no need for luxury. He