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When they reached the horse paddock, Barnaby, Trigger and Misty were frolicking about like children playing a game of tag. They whinnied and snorted as they stomped their hooves and created mishmash trails of trampled snow.
“They’re having fun.” Alice watched her warm breath float away into the cool morning.
“The first snowfall is always fun.” Danny caught up to the rest of them. Walking with a wooden leg in snow was more difficult and left a distinctive trail. Footprint, square, footprint, square. “Wait until you’ve been out in it for days. It’s not fun when the cold has burrowed its way into your bones.”
The rubber of Alice’s gumboots already felt cold. She wondered whether rubber provided more insulation than wood. She’d never heard Danny complain. He just got on with life and didn’t speak of whatever had caused his disability. Sometimes his eyes had a faraway look as if he’d transported himself to another time, another place. Then after moments of stillness, his whole body would shake and he’d be back, attentive to whatever was happening.
Watching Danny was a reminder to Alice that you never knew what made other people who they were. That you couldn’t let whatever happened in your past colour your present, it did, but you didn’t have to give into it. She wouldn’t give in to hers. Alice was strong and she wouldn’t be a victim again. She was lucky, at least she still had both legs.
Her thoughts turned to Fergus. What made him a white feather, a conscientious objector? If he hadn’t got into the fight at the races, she would never have known. She’d like the opportunity to ask him, one day.
“Alice!” Fergus’s call pulled her out of her reverie. He was holding the gate open. “Are you coming?”
They caught the horses, saddled them up and headed out. Alice listened for the crunch of snow with every footfall, watched as the snowflakes splotched her raincoat and disappeared, and inhaled the purity of the air, filling her lungs with what felt like a new beginning.
The reins sat loosely in her gloved hand as she let Fergus and Barnaby lead the way and Misty follow at a safe pace. They passed the paddock where the crop had been sown. It was simply a square of white, framed by a fence whose bottom wire was peeking out from the snow. Alice hoped the crop would survive being encased in ice or all her ploughing efforts would be in vain.
Further out, the ewes sat in mobs, a united façade so that each had a side protected from the elements. Alice interpreted their bleating as a cry for food.
“Your hay is coming,” she called out.
Fergus chuckled. “Sheep don’t have the biggest of brains, Alice. I don’t think they speak English.”
“Baa. Baa. Baa.” Alice bought into Fergus’s teasing.
By the time they reached the back paddocks the wind had joined the fray and flurries of snow whipped in from the south. Alice’s raincoat protected her body but the gap between the hem of her coat and the rim of her gumboots was cold and wet.
Fergus stopped and they surveyed the paddock. It was difficult to discern where snow stopped, and sheep sat.
“I think we’ll head to the trees, maybe the sheep will come to us,” he suggested.
If what Fergus had said were true, Alice doubted the sheep were that intelligent but sheltering under the trees sounded good and she turned Misty towards the macrocarpas.
A dozen sheep huddled amongst the sprawling roots of each of the trees.
“The sensible ones,” Alice said.
She dismounted and walked Misty to a space between the trees. The branches meshed overhead and provided an umbrella that the snow hadn’t permeated. Misty nickered in appreciation and shook herself. Alice did the same.
“Phew! That’s better.” Fergus came to stand beside Alice. “We’ll wait here until the wind drops, otherwise we’re likely to leave half the mob behind.”
Alice looked out from under the trees. She didn’t know much about snow, but it didn’t look like the wind was going to drop anytime soon. There were worse places to be stuck and worse people to be stuck with. The familiarity that Fergus and Alice had previously shared was missing and Alice struggled to think of anything to say. Silence engulfed the space, hung awkwardly like a noose, as if saying the wrong thing would mean the end of everything.
Alice couldn’t handle the silence any more than she could handle the thought of saying the wrong thing.
“Did you enjoy fixing the bridge?” The question stumbled from her. It was a start, nothing that would cause any friction, good or bad.
Fergus paused, as if he was organising his thoughts. “It was dangerous. The river was still high. We had to secure the poles. We tied ropes to those who had to go in the water, to keep them safe. Much like you had to with Rangi.”
Alice felt her body heat rise, her cheeks colour. Fergus had turned the conversation back to her and she felt uncomfortable.
“I did what I had to do,” she replied with a shrug as if her efforts were unimportant.
“You did more than you had to do Alice.” Fergus coughed and shifted from one foot to the other. “The question is why.”
“Why?” Alice thought the why was obvious. You wouldn’t leave someone to drown if you could rescue them.
“Why did you rescue Rangi? Why did you spend the week with him?”
Alice turned and looked at Fergus, tried to interpret his questions. Was Fergus racist? Did he think Rangi shouldn’t have been saved because he was Maori? She’d believed Fergus and Rangi to be friends. Fergus’s face gave nothing away, his eyes bored into hers with almost an accusation.
“Come on, Alice.” Fergus placed his hand on Alice’s arm. “Don’t play dumb. I just want to know what Rangi is to you?”
“Dumb!” Alice choked on the insult as rage simmered in her belly. “I’m not dumb and I’m not playing.”
“So, you admit it then.” Fergus removed his hand and took on that stance that Alice had seen too often lately. “You like Rangi.”
She mirrored Fergus’s posture, her fists thumping into her hips, incredulous at his accusation, his assumption about her feelings for Rangi. If they hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere in a snowstorm she would have stomped off.
“Are you jealous? Is that why you keep looking at me with disgust?”
“No.” Fergus’s eyes went wide.
“No what? No, you’re not jealous or no you’re not looking at me with disgust?” She couldn’t believe anyone would be jealous of her but plenty of people, her own mother included, had looked at her with contempt, with looks that said she wasn’t worthy of the air she breathed.
“No, I don’t look at you with disgust. Why would I?”
“Because ...” Alice stopped herself before she disappeared down the deepest of rabbit holes. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because you’re amazing, Alice.”
“Pfff. Now you’re just telling lies to get yourself out of trouble.”
“No, I’m not. You give anything a go. You drive tractors, plough paddocks, ride horses, rescue men from rivers. And ....”
Alice interrupted Fergus. “You’re supposed to do all that stuff when you work on a farm.”
“Yes, but you’re a girl.” Fergus stuttered over his choice of words. “I mean a woman.”
Alice huffed. There it was again. Men always brought everything back to the fact that she was a female. It made her wish she been born the opposite sex; life would be so much easier.
The sheep under the trees stirred, they turned to face the pair as if the interaction was a show scheduled for their entertainment.
“And ...” Fergus went to speak but he was met by Alice’s hand, her palm inches from his face.
“Don’t say it. Don’t say anything.” Alice emphasised the don’t. “You’re just making things worse.”
Fergus grabbed Alice’s hand, pulled her to him and leaned down until they were face to face.
“Shut up, Alice,” he whispered before planting his lips on hers.
The kiss warmed her, from the tip of her head to the end of her toes. The heat came not only from his touch but from the knowledge that he wouldn’t be kissing her if he was disgusted. She leaned into him, glad for once that she was a female, that being a woman allowed her to be exactly where she was.
Alice gasped as Fergus broke away, terrified that the moment was gone but he only left enough space between them to speak.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
She stiffened in his arms.
“Tut, tut, tut. I’m talking. Stay quiet and listen or I’ll have to kiss you again.”
That was a challenge that tempted Alice to speak. She had an urge to touch Fergus’s face, to feel his skin to confirm he was real, the situation was real, the kiss was real but just as Danny had said, the cold had already started seeping into her bones. She could barely discern the tips of her fingers beneath the leather of her gloves, their numbness was a warning to go no further, so she stood quietly and absorbed the warmth of Fergus’s embrace.
“I was not, and am not in any way disgusted by you,” Fergus continued. “I was jealous of Rangi, the time you spent with him, the laughter I would hear coming from the sitting room. His parents greeted you as if you were someone important to them. I thought I’d come back from the bridge and find that you had gone too. Moved to the marae to keep nursing Rangi.”
“I never wanted to be his nurse.”
Fergus placed a silencing finger on Alice’s lips. “Sssh! I haven’t finished yet. I was afraid to give in to my feelings for you, I could lose my job and without that I’d be forced to enlist or be imprisoned as a conchie.”
Alice froze. She didn’t like to think of Fergus as a conchie, not because it meant he didn’t want to fight but because of the risk he might be imprisoned for his beliefs. Fergus must have misinterpreted her silence and pulled away.
“You too,” he growled.
“Me too what?” The space between them filled with the chill of the day and the iciness of Fergus’s look.
“You think I’m a chicken, that I don’t want to enlist because I’m weak and afraid.”
Alice reached out for Fergus’s hands. Her fingers, in the cumbersome gloves, failed to grab hold of him but she was determined not to let another misunderstanding come between them. It was Fergus’s turn to listen. She reached out again, caught, and clasped one of his hands between both of hers.
“Fergus. Fergus.” She pulled on his hand and repeated his name until he looked at her. When she knew she had his full attention she continued, “I don’t think you’re a chicken. I admire you for not wanting to fight. It shows you have a kind heart.”
Fergus pulled back. He and Alice weren’t so different. Their bodies gave away their emotions.
“Don’t deny it, Fergus, or I will have to kiss you,” Alice teased. “I would never want you to be imprisoned.”
“But I thought you hated me because of the fight. Thinking about you, and the danger of the river terrified the wits out of me. What if you had been washed away? Drowned? I would have felt responsible. The stupidity of the fight, the arrest dragging me away to prison when I should have been home helping rescue the sheep, keeping you safe.”
A sheep bleated; the baa echoed through the trees. Others joined in the chorus. It was like a round of applause for Fergus and Alice overcoming their stupidity, for speaking thoughts instead of making assumptions.
“Can I speak again?” Alice asked when the noise abated.
Fergus nodded and smiled. “Do you want another kiss?”
Alice closed her eyes, her lips parted in an invitation that Fergus accepted. There was a tenderness to the kiss that Alice allowed to envelop her. Whatever it was that she and Fergus had was going somewhere she had never been before.
“I am not your responsibility Fergus,” Alice said as they gazed into each other’s eyes. She’d never noticed the flecks of gold that radiated out from his pupils like beams of sunlight. She waited until he slowly nodded. “I may be a woman, but I can look after myself.”
“But I can care about you.” There was almost a pleading tone to his voice.
“Yes, just as I can care about you.”
They sealed this pact with another kiss. One where Fergus’s tongue dared to explore, dared to tempt the relationship to go further. It scared Alice, it was all new to her, everything was happening fast, sensations and feelings she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
She broke away and gasped for air. “What are we going to do?”
“What do you mean? Now? With the sheep?” Fergus chuckled again and squeezed Alice into his chest.
She looked out from under the trees. She felt like the wind with the puff plucked from her sails, the snowflakes now falling gracefully to the ground.
“No,” she said. “I mean about us.”
“Alice, I’m just grateful there is an us. I can’t think beyond that at the moment.”
“But Mr Cresswell, and there will be others like him, with expectations.”
Alice felt the change in Fergus as her words brought him back to reality.
“If Lou or Brownie find out, we’ll be forced apart. Me to the other side of the world to fight in this stupid war or behind a prison wall. Either way I might as well be dead.”
“Well, we’ll just have to keep it secret, won’t we?” Alice suggested.
“But I want to see you, spend time with you.”
Fergus sounded like a child eager to open presents at Christmas time. Alice had no idea how they’d got from scowling indifference to this, but she was glad they had. She adopted the mature adult persona and suggested they think about the job assigned to them first. If they did that well then Lou may assign them more jobs together.
“One more kiss first.” If it was a question, Fergus didn’t wait for the answer. His lips brushed hers, invited her to taste him, to share a moment that said more than any words could.
The sheep were as reluctant as them, to leave the shelter of the trees. Fergus had to manhandle a couple to their feet but once he got them moving, the rest did what sheep do and followed. They herded them along the fence line, the snow seemed deeper there but at least the fence was a barrier to keep them on track.
Once the first lot were through the gate, Fergus and Alice turned back to round up those who had opted to brave the open paddock. A group of hoggets close all stood and shook the snow from their fleeces before heading in single file to the gateway. Alice checked the ground where they had been, but there was no abandoned lamb in need of her help.
Fergus and Alice crossed the paddock in a zigzag pattern, sending any sheep they found on their way towards the gate.
“We should have brought one of the dogs,” Fergus said. “It would have been much quicker.”
Alice smiled. She was glad there was no dog. She didn’t want her time with Fergus to be hurried. They met at the gateway confident that they’d found all the sheep.
“Oh, shit.” The words slipped from her lips before she realised, she’d uttered them out loud.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Fergus was at her side in an instant. “What can I do?”
Alice knew then that Fergus still wanted to be her hero, fix her every problem not just care about her like she had asked, but Lou had assigned her the job of counting the hoggets and with all that had transpired she had forgotten. She was the one whose actions, or lack of, were going to separate them. Lou would think her useless and request a replacement land girl.
“Stupid me,” she said. “I forgot to count the hoggets.”
“I’ll ride ahead and count them as they go through the next gateway,” Fergus offered.
“No, you won’t.” She spoke slowly and deliberately, ensuring Fergus heard and understood her. “It’s not your problem, it’s mine. You stay here in case there are some still missing.”
Alice rode off and didn’t look back to see or hear Fergus’s protestations. She reached the next gateway just as the first of the mob were passing through, pulled Misty up to the side of the gate and began her count. When she had to pause and wait for the next bunch she repeated the count in her head, over and over, cementing it in her memory.
“Fifty-nine, sixty.” Alice sighed with relief as Fergus and the last of the sheep reached her.
“Everything good?” Fergus asked.
“Everything good.” Alice smiled.
They herded the sheep into the rushes paddock, riding side by side in companionable silence. To any onlookers they would have resembled work colleagues and no more. To them, the silence carried everything, understanding, anticipation and a warmth that even the snow couldn’t chill.