In the Land of the Long White Cloud

Maybe it was totally normal, then. And it wasn’t indecent; they were married, after all.
    Forcing herself to speak in a calm voice, Helen asked Howard about his land and his animals. She didn’t really listen to his answers, but she didn’t want him to think she was upset with him. Howard did not seem worried about that, however. In fact, it was clear that he was not the least bit ashamed about the night before.
    Late that afternoon they crossed the boundary onto Howard’s farm, which was marked by a muddy stream. The wagon promptlybecame stuck in it, and Helen and Howard were forced to get out and push. When they finally climbed back onto the coach box, they were wet, and the hem of Helen’s skirt was weighted down with mud. But then the farmhouse came into view and Helen promptly forgot all her concerns about her dress, her pain, and even her fear of the coming night.
    “This’d be us,” Howard said, stopping the team in front of a hut. If feeling generous, one might also call it a blockhouse. It was made of unfinished logs that had been bound together. “Go on in, I’ll take care of things in the stable.”
    Helen stood as though paralyzed. This was supposed to be her house? Even the stalls in Christchurch were more comfortable—not to mention London.
    “Well, get going. It’s not locked. There’re no thieves here.”
    It wasn’t like there was anything to steal either. When Helen, still speechless, pushed open the door, she entered a room that made even Margaret’s kitchen seem livable. The house consisted of two rooms—the first was a combination kitchen and living room, sparsely furnished with four chairs and a chest. The kitchen was somewhat better supplied; unlike in Margaret’s home, there was a proper stove. At least Helen wouldn’t have to cook over an open fire.
    Nervously she opened the door to the neighboring room—Howard’s bedroom. No, their bedroom, she corrected herself. She would simply have to make it more comfortable.
    It held only a timber-frame bed, which was sloppily made with dirty linen. Helen thanked heaven for her purchases in London. With new bed linens, it would immediately look better. As soon as Howard brought her bag in, she would change the sheets.
    Howard entered with a basket of firewood under his arm. A few eggs were balanced on the logs.
    “Lazy rats, these no good Maori!” he cursed. “They milked the cow yesterday all right, but not today. She’s standing there with bursting udders, the poor animal, moaning her heart out. Can you go on and milk her? That’ll be your job from now on anyway, so go on now and figure it out.”
    Helen looked at him, confused. “You want me to…milk? Now?”
    “Well, wait till tomorrow and she’ll kick it,” Howard said. “But you can put on some dry clothes first; I’ll bring your things right in. You’ll catch your death of cold in this room as it is now. Here’s some firewood.”
    This last comment sounded like an order. But Helen wanted to resolve the matter of the cow first.
    “Howard, I can’t milk a cow,” she admitted. “I’ve never done that before.”
    Howard frowned.
    “What do you mean, you’ve never milked a cow before?” he asked. “Aren’t there any cows in England? You wrote that you were responsible for your father’s household for years!”
    “Yes, but we lived in Liverpool. In the middle of the city, next to the church. We didn’t have any livestock!”
    Howard looked at her coldly. “Then see that you learn how. I’ll do it today. You clean the floor in the meantime. The wind’s blowing all this dust around. Then get the stove going. I’ve already brought the wood in, so you just need to light it. Mind that you stack the wood carefully; otherwise, it’ll smoke us out of the cabin. But surely you can do that. Or do they not have stoves in Liverpool?”
    Howard’s contemptuous expression made Helen drop any further objections. It would just anger him further if she told him that in Liverpool they’d had a maid for the heavy housework. Helen’s tasks had been limited to raising her younger siblings, helping in the rectory, and leading the Bible circle. What would he think if she described the manor in London? The Greenwoods kept a cook, a servant who lit the stove, maids who anticipated their every wish, and Helen as governess. Though she was certainly not considered one of the masters of the house, no one would have expected her to so much as touch a piece of firewood.
    Helen