In the Land of the Long White Cloud

have forced Gwyneira into his bed.
    James was struck by a pang of profound remorse and anger at himself. It was finally clear to him why Gwyneira couldn’t talk about it, why she had stood before him sick with shame and helpless with fear. She could not have admitted the truth to him, or he only would have made things worse. James would have killed the old man.
    Instead he, James, had abandoned Gwyneira, had made everything even worse by leaving her alone with Gerald and forcing her to raise this unfortunate child, whom Fleurette had only spoken of with abhorrence. James felt despair rising within him. Gwyneira would never be able to forgive him. He should have known or at least accepted her refusal to talk about it without question. He should have trusted her. But so…
    James furtively directed his gaze once more at her narrow face—and was alarmed when she raised her head and looked at him. And then suddenly everything was extinguished. The courtroom melted away before his and Gwyneira’s eyes; there had never been a Paul Warden. James and Gwyneira stood across from each other alone in a magic circle. He saw her as the young girl who had taken up her New Zealand adventure fearlessly but who was hopeless before the problem of scaring up the thyme to make English food with. He still remembered exactly how she had laughed when he handed her the bundle of herbs. And then her strange question: would he be the father of her child…the days together at the lake and in the mountains. The unbelievable feeling when he had seen Fleur in her arms for the first time.
    In this moment a bond, long broken, sealed Gwyneira and James to each other, and it would never dissolve again.
    “Gwyn…” James’s lips formed her name inaudibly, and Gwyneira smiled faintly as though she had understood him. No, she didn’t hold anything against him. She had forgiven him everything—and she was free. Now, finally, she was free for him. If only he could speak with her. They had to try again; they belonged together. If only it weren’t for these unfortunate proceedings. If he were likewise free. If only they wouldn’t hang him.
    “Your Honor, I think we can cut this business short!” James McKenzie spoke up, just as the judge was about to call the next witness.
    Judge Stephen looked up hopefully. “You want to confess?”
    McKenzie nodded. Over the next hour he calmly gave an account of his thefts and how he had taken the sheep to Dunedin. “You have to understand that I can’t give you the name of the man who took the animals off my hands. He never asked for my name, and I didn’t ask for his.”
    “But you have to know who he is,” the judge said, unsatisfied with this.
    McKenzie shrugged again. “I know
a
name, but whether it’s his…? Besides, I’m no snitch, Your Honor. The man never turned on me; he paid me properly—please don’t expect me to break my word.”
    “And your accomplice?” someone in the court roared. “Who was the fellow who slipped through our fingers?”
    James looked in the direction of the voice with a confused expression. “What accomplice? I always worked alone, Your Honor, except for my dog. I swear, so help me God.”
    “So then who was the man who was with you when you were captured?” the judge inquired. “Though some seem to think it was a woman.”
    James nodded with his head lowered. “Yes, that’s right, Your Honor.”
    Gwyneira winced. So there was a woman. James had married or at least lived with someone else. Still…when he had just looked at her…she had thought…
    “What does that mean, ‘Yes, that’s right’?” the Lord Justice asked, again unsatisfied with his answer. “A man, a woman, a ghost?”
    “A woman, Your Honor.” James kept his head lowered. “A Maori girl I lived with.”
    “And you gave her the horse while you sat on a mule, and then she rode away as if the devil was on her heels?” someone in the court called out, setting off laughter. “Tell it to your grandma!”
    Judge Stephen called the court to order.
    “I have to admit,” he remarked, “your story sounds a bit far-fetched to me as well.”
    “The girl was very dear to me,” McKenzie said calmly. “The…most precious thing that ever happened to me. I always gave her the best horse; I would do anything for her. I would give my life for her. And why shouldn’t a girl know how to ride?”
    Gwyneira bit her lip. So James had found a new love. And if he survived this, he would go back