Chapter 16 #2
Shep gives a bark, breaking the spell. I look up at where the house is perched beyond the cliffs, expecting to see Nate staring down at me.
All I see is the distant curve of Horseshoe Manor’s roof.
Shep trots up the beach, drawing my eye to a figure walking towards us.
My pocket tinkles when I straighten, and I have to shade my eyes to make out the woman being greeted by the dog.
She gives him a pat, then points firmly at her feet, bringing him into an effortless heel as she walks across the sand.
“Mōrena,” she calls.
“Good morning,” I say, feeling like I know her already. “Are you Mihirangi?”
“Sure am,” she answers with a smile so broad I can’t help returning it.
She’s dark-eyed and deep-complected, her brown skin luminous in a way that makes it hard to guess her age. Over forty for certain, but beyond that I can’t tell. We shake hands, then Mihirangi surprises me with a quick, hard hug.
“And you’re Grace,” she says. “Hadley said he was off getting someone from Dunedin-way yesterday, but he didn’t say it was you. What brings you up here, Grace?”
“Well, he brought me, I suppose.” It’s a redundant statement, but it’s all I’ve got.
“I just bet he did,” she says, her tone somehow arch and respectful all at once. Then she raises a knee just before Shep jumps up, preventing the corso from overbalancing her with practiced ease.
“Nah, bro,” she tells him. “I saw you just last night, so don’t carry on trying for extra kisses.” Shep falls back with a chuff, and I watch as Mihirangi ducks down, grabs a piece of driftwood and throws it for him to chase. Her eyes are back on me a moment later. “Are you all right, girl?”
I’m tempted to confess that I’m beyond descriptors like ‘all right’. It’s strange, her approaching me when I believed at least a few times within the last twelve hours that I had to reach out to her for help.
I force my shoulder into a shrug. “I’m not sure what I am, Mihirangi.”
“It’s Mihi.” She looks at me like she can see the colours of my life. “You’re a traveller who’s still half at home, pulled hard from one place to another.”
I swallow, feeling her words resonate within my chest. “I’ve lost the home I had.”
She looks at Shep as he returns with the driftwood, lines appearing around her lips. “Now that is a problem. But you’ve obviously been offered another.”
Mihi points up at the house. I follow her gaze and realise with a jolt that Nate is up there, staring down from the top of the cliffside stairs.
“Hadley’s a sneaky one, isn’t he?” she says agreeably.
“Got my father to sell him our family’s property, made it seem like a land-grab, but then he kept me on my own section in exchange for nothing.
Now he’s got me close by to ask about the highest tide lines, the way the herds move after a flood, the fault lines in the bedrock. Smart man. Slippery, like. But smart.”
“Absolutely,” I say, appreciating that she’s putting to words what I’ve only had the courage to think.
“And he loves you.”
I beckon Shep to my side to avoid meeting her eyes this time. I kneel down to cuddle the dog. “What makes you say that?”
She grunts. “Come for a walk with me, girl. We can have a proper talk about the man on the cliff once we’re out of sight.”
I nod and Mihi gives Nate a quick pantomime, pointing first at me, then at Shep, then her own chest. Then she makes a cutting motion towards the long stretch of beach.
I can read her loud and clear, and I’m sure Nate can, too: I’m taking Shep, myself, and Grace for a walk.
I wait, curious to see if Nate will head down the stairs, or else signal that he doesn’t want me going.
Instead, he gives an exaggerated thumbs up, and turns towards the house.
“Oh,” I murmur, unable to hide my surprise.
“I walk Shep most days,” Mihi says, waving me forward companionably. “Or, as it actually happens, I walk down the beach and the big boy comes with me.”
“Right,” I murmur, walking beside her. She’s barefoot, too, and she carries a macrame bag with a few pieces of rubbish inside. “You mentioned that your father owned the land before Nate bought it off him? Was it a fair deal?”
“That man’s slippery all right,” Mihi eyes me sideways, “but so is my dad. And he was taking the worst kind of care of the place. Hadley came in, took a long look, then asked me about the yields. Sheep and beef is what we’d run in most of the paddocks, but the yields were never where they should be.
He asked if I knew how to make things better, and if I’d considered taking over.
” She gives a low chuckle. “No chance of that, I told him. The land was set to go to my brothers. So Hadley bought it all up, my dad ran off happy, and he never saw the part of the contract that said I get to keep my house and the paddocks adjacent to it.”
Her description of the situation rings strangely true: I’m somehow unsurprised that Nate would have done so much for someone he hardly knew.
“Now,” she continues with a broad wink, “don’t go thinking it was perfect generosity.
Slippery men don’t do things for nothing, eh?
No, Hadley figured I could increase the yield.
And, more important, he figured I’d know where the bedrock was most solid along the cliffs—solid enough for that big house he built.
And which way it should face to get the winter sun.
And where the water tanks should be. And so on. ”
“And…” I pause to phrase my question carefully, “did your dad never realise you ended up owning part of the land?”
She gives me a sly smile. “He thinks I rent it. Sometimes he asks me for how much, and I always tell him the same thing: the deed’s in a woman’s name, and the rent’s the walking of a dog.”
I’m surprised into a laugh and Mihi nudges my hip with her own.
“But now, girlie, you’ve got to tell me why you’ve come. Your name’s been in Hadley’s mouth as long as I’ve known him. Five years or more. And I’ve never seen you.”
I know it’ll be useless to say anything but the truth. Mihi reminds me of Mother in that way: she’s built to detect lies and discern intentions. Only… Mihi might be kind.
“My husband died,” I say. “Yesterday. He got hit by a car.”
Mihi stops walking. I look down at her feet, planted in the sand, toes pointing at me.
I force myself to go on. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and Nate—”
I can’t say more.
“He brought you here,” she finishes. “And your husband, may he rest, was that Hadley’s twin?”
I nod, realising Mihi would have met Nick over the years, especially if she’s been involved with managing the property.
“Aye, Grace,” she murmurs. When I meet her eyes, she spreads her arms, inviting me to take a second hug. I step into it, grateful. She smells like sea air and coffee, and she rubs my back with a warm hand. “He being good to you? Generous-like?”
I sigh, letting myself step back when Shep starts nuzzling at the pair of us, clearly jealous. Mihi throws him another stick.
“Nate? I don’t think generosity is his problem. He’s trying to—to keep me, I guess, you could say.”
Mihi squints at the sea, her profile to me. “He’s trying to replace his brother?”
I meet her eyes. She’s incisive, even in her kindness.
“Yes and no.” I’m not sure if I can tell her the truth, or if I’ve even accepted it myself. Mother and Nick were my anchors in Dunedin, but I was drowning. I still am. Tears come into my eyes, and I try to subtly wipe at them.
“Aye, it was a shit question, Grace. I’m sorry.”
“You’re fine,” I whisper.
Mihi pats me again, and we walk. Shep runs in and out of the shining surf, and the sun heats me until the merino tunic is too warm.
Mihi and I turn our steps into the ocean, frigid, shallow water lapping at our toes.
It’s soothing. We walk for a long time, Mihi telling me about the paddocks along the cliffs; she’s an encyclopaedia of local knowledge, and pleased to be quizzed.
Sea lions sunbathe between boulders, a cluster of tide pools shimmers, and at the farthest point of the beach, the cliffs stretch out to meet the ocean.
Our steps turn back towards the house just as clouds roll in off the sea.