In the Land of the Long White Cloud

home from school.
    Tonga and a couple of other Maori from the lakeside village greeted her grumpily. Only Marama smiled, as friendly as ever.
    “We’re reading a new book, Miss Warden!” she declared, pleased. “One for grown-ups! By Mr. Bulwer-Lytton. He’s very famous inEngland. The book is about a Roman camp. The Romans are a very old tribe in England. Their camp is near a volcano, and it erupts. It’s sooo sad, Miss Warden…I hope the girls survive, at least. For Glaucos to fall in love with Jone there! But the people really should have been smarter. You don’t set up camp on the burning mountains. And certainly not a big one with sleeping houses and everything. What do you think: would Paul like to read it? He hasn’t been reading much lately. Miss O’Keefe says that’s not good for a gentleman. I’ll find him later and take the book to him.” Marama skipped away, and Gwyneira smiled to herself. She was still grinning when she stopped in Helen’s yard.
    “Your children show a lot of common sense,” she teased Helen, who rushed out of the house when she heard hoofbeats. She looked relieved when she saw that it was Gwyneira. “I never knew what I didn’t like about Bulwer-Lytton, but Marama put it succinctly: everything the Romans did was a mistake. If they had not built on Vesuvius, Pompeii never would have been destroyed, and Mr. Bulwer-Lytton could have saved himself five hundred pages. You should just make sure the children understand that the whole thing doesn’t take place in England.”
    Helen’s smile seemed forced. “Marama is a clever girl,” she said. “But come now, Gwyn. We can’t waste any time. If Howard catches him here, he’ll kill him. He’s still angry that Warden and Sideblossom passed him over when they were putting together the search party.”
    Gwyneira frowned. “What search party? And who’s killing whom?”
    “Well, McKenzie. James McKenzie! Oh, that’s right, I didn’t tell Mara his name—to be safe. But he’s here, Gwyn. And he wants to speak with you urgently!”
    Gwyneira’s legs seemed to buckle. “But…James is in prison in Lyttelton. He can’t…”
    “He broke out, Gwyn! Now go; give me the horse. Mr. McKenzie is in the barn.”
    Gwyneira practically flew to the barn. Her thoughts tripped over each other. What should she say to him? What did he want to tell her? But James was there…he was there; he would…
    James pulled Gwyneira into his arms as soon as she entered the barn. She could not pull away and did not want to either. Letting out a sigh, she burrowed into James’s shoulder. It had been thirteen years, but it felt just as wonderful as it had back then. She was safe here. No matter what happened around her—when James put his arms around her, she felt protected from the world.
    “Gwyn, it’s been so long…I should never have left you.” James whispered the words into her hair. “I should have known about Paul. Instead…”
    “I should have told you,” Gwyneira said. “But I would never have been able to speak the words aloud…we should stop with the apologies now. We always knew what we wanted.” She smiled at him mischievously. James could not get enough of the joy in her face, still warm from her ride. He took his chance and kissed the mouth she so willingly offered.
    “All right, let’s get down to business,” he said sternly, the old roguishness dancing in his eyes. “Before anything else, let’s clear up one thing—and I want to hear the truth and nothing but the truth. Since there’s no more husband for you to claim loyalty to and no baby that needs to be lied about: was it really just business back then, Gwyn? Was it really just about the baby? Or did you love me? At least a little?”
    Gwyneira smiled, but then wrinkled her brow as though she was thinking hard about it. “A little? Well, yes, when I think about it, I did love you a little.”
    “Good.” James remained serious. “And now? Now that you’ve thought about it and raised such a beautiful daughter? Now that you’re free, Gwyneira, and no one can tell you what to do anymore? Do you still love me a little?”
    Gwyneira shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she explained slowly. “Now I love you a great deal!”
    James took her in his arms again, and she savored his kiss.
    “Do you love me enough to come with me?” he asked. “Enough to run away with me? Prison is horrible, Gwyn. I had to get out.”
    Gwyneira shook her head. “What do