Free Song of the Spirits by Sarah Lark Page B

department. The farmer’s wife would then be able to look at and try on the goods at her leisure—and ask Elaine’s opinion. It was a service that Fleurette had offered since the earliest days of the business—and one that the farm women had enthusiastically taken up. It offered isolated women not only the opportunity to shop but also a chance to catch up on the gossip and news from town, which always sounded different when it came from another woman’s mouth rather than from the wagon drivers.
    Naturally, Elaine had organized a picnic for William, for which she had brought along a light Australian wine out of her father’s stock. The two of them feasted like royalty on an idyllic cliff by the lake while listening to the giant’s heartbeat that caused the water to rise and fall. Afterward, Elaine even allowed William to open her dress a little bit to caress the small buds of her breasts and cover them with little kisses. She was so fulfilled by this new experience that she could have joyfully embraced the whole world. She hardly took her hands off William, who—equally satisfied with the day’s course of events—serenely managed the team’s reins. That is, until the two mares raised their heads and whinnied at a dark-brown horse in front of the store. Elaine recognized the stallion right away.
    “That’s Owen! My grandmother’s stud! Oh, William, it’s wonderful that she brought him. Banshee can have a foal now! And look, Caitlin and Ceredwen want to flirt. Isn’t that marvelous?”
    Caitlin and Ceredwen were the cob mares pulling the light goods wagon, which could now only be kept in line with some effort. The four-legged ladies knew exactly what they wanted. William pursedhis lips indignantly. Elaine was unquestionably well-bred but sometimes she behaved like a common farmer’s daughter! How could she speak about breeding so brazenly and in public? He considered whether he should chide her, but Elaine had already sprung from the wagon and was hurrying over to the handsomely dressed older lady, easy to recognize as her grandmother. While Fleurette revealed what Elaine would look like at forty, Gwyneira now gave a view of her at sixty.
    William vacillated between a smile and a sigh. This was the only drop of wormwood in his courtship with Elaine: if he decided to marry her, life would hold no more surprises for him. His work and private life would move forward like a train on the tracks.
    He stopped the team behind one of the heavier wagons and was careful to secure the draft horses well. He took measured steps on his way to be introduced to Elaine’s grandmother, and her cousin. Probably another version of a redhead with hourglass form.
    Meanwhile, Elaine was greeting her grandmother, who had just let go of Fleurette. From the look of it, she had just arrived.
    Gwyneira kissed Elaine, pressed her tight to her, and then held her out for a moment to get a look at her.
    “It’s definitely you, Lainie! And you’ve gotten so pretty, a real woman! You look just like your mother did at that age. And I hope you’re just as much of a tomboy too. If not, I’ve brought the wrong present… Where is it anyway? Kura, do you have the dog basket? What are you still doing in the carriage anyway? Come out and say hello to your cousin!” Gwyneira suddenly sounded a bit irritated. Kura did not have to make it so plain to all just how very little she cared about this visit to Queenstown.
    But the girl had only been waiting for an invitation. Serenely and with lithesome, graceful movements, Kura-maro-tini Warden alighted from the carriage to take possession of Queenstown. And she noticed with satisfaction that her entrance did not lack for effect. Even on the faces of her aunt and cousin she detected a look of amazement that bordered on awe.

    Elaine had only just begun to think of herself as pretty. Her love for William had done her good. She radiated from inside out; her skin was clean and rosy, her hair gleamed, and her