In the Land of the Long White Cloud

drunk. He might not have made a scene but something about what Paul said had caught his attention.
    “With…um, with Ruben. A few rams had gotten away from him and Mrs. O’Keefe and…”
    “From him and that nice father of his, you mean to say,” Gerald scoffed. “How typical of old Howard to be too stupid or too tightfisted to pen up his animals. And that dandy has to ask a girl to help him herd them.”
    The old man laughed.
    Paul frowned. This wasn’t going as planned.
    “Fleur does it with Ruben!” burst out of him, earning a few initial seconds of stunned silence.
    Gwyneira was the first to react. “Paul, where do you learn these expressions! You will excuse yourself this instant and—”
    “Wai…wait a moment!” Gerald interrupted her in an unsteady but loud voice. “Wha…what is the boy saying? She’s…doing it…with the O’Keefe boy?”
    Gwyneira hoped that Fleurette would simply deny it, but she only needed to look at the girl to see that Paul’s malicious assertion had at least some truth to it.
    “It’s not what you think, Grandfather!” Fleur said, trying to reassure herself. “We…well, we…uh, don’t do it with each other, of course. We…”
    “Oh, no? What
do
you do, then?” Gerald thundered.
    “But I saw it! I saw it!” Paul sang.
    Gwyneira ordered him sternly to be silent. “We…we’re in love. We want to get married,” Fleur explained. There. At least she had said it—even though this was hardly the ideal moment for that announcement.
    Gwyneira attempted to ameliorate her daughter’s position.
    “Fleur, my sweet, you’re not even sixteen. And Ruben’s going off to university next year.”
    “You want to do what?” Gerald roared. “Marry? O’Keefe’s brat? Have you completely lost your mind, Fleurette?”
    Fleur shrugged. Whatever else may be said of her, she could not be accused of cowardice. “It’s not something you choose, Grandfather. We love each other. That’s how it is, and no one can change it.”
    “We’ll just see if it can’t be changed!” Gerald sprang up. “You are not to ever see that boy again. No more school—I’ve been wondering what that O’Keefe woman has left to teach you anyway. I’m going to ride to Haldon and settle things with O’Keefe right now. Witi! Bring my gun!”
    “Gerald, you’re overreacting,” Gwyneira said, trying to remain calm. Perhaps she could convince Gerald to give up the crazy idea of going after Ruben—or Howard—before he did anything rash. “The girl isn’t even sixteen and is in love for the first time. No one’s even talking about a wedding.”
    “That girl is set to inherit a portion of Kiward Station, Gwyneira!
Of course
old O’Keefe’s thinking of marriage. But I’ll clear that up once and for all. You lock up the girl. This instant! She doesn’t need anything more to eat. She should fast and think about her sins.” Gerald reached for his gun, which a terrified Witi had brought, and slipped into a waxed jacket. Then he stormed out.
    Fleurette moved to follow him. “I have to go warn Ruben!” she exclaimed.
    Gwyneira shook her head. “Where do you expect to find a horse? All the riding horses are in the stables, and I won’t let you take one of the ponies into the wild without a saddle…no, you’d break your neck and the horse’s too. Gerald would overtake you anyway. Let the boys sort it out for themselves. I’m sure no one will get hurt. If heruns into Mr. O’Keefe, they’ll yell at each other, maybe break each other’s noses…”
    “And if he runs into Ruben?” Fleur asked, turning pale.
    “Then he’ll kill him!” Paul rejoiced.
    That was a mistake. Now mother and daughter turned on him.
    “You snitching little bastard!” Fleurette yelled. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done, you nasty rat? If Ruben is killed, then…”
    “Fleurette, calm down. Your friend will survive just fine,” Gwyneira soothed her with greater conviction than she really possessed. She knew Gerald’s explosive temper, and he was once more three sheets to the wind. However, Ruben’s even-keeled nature gave her hope. Helen’s son was not about to be provoked. “And you, Paul, go to your room this instant. I don’t want to see you in the dining room again until the day after tomorrow at the soonest. You’re under house arrest.”
    “Fleur is too, Fleur is too!” Paul would not let it go.
    “That’s something very different, Paul,” Gwyneira said sternly, and once