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“Lei! Get up here!” Hector Dereham put his hands on his hips and glared at his daughter as she sauntered up the long, dusty driveway. “You been in that bloody stream again, girl?”
Leilah swallowed and touched her damp hair, bringing her fingers to her lips and tasting the sweetness of the mountain spring. “No,” she lied and watched her father’s woolly eyebrows narrow. “Yes.” She changed her answer and her footsteps slowed.
“Get a move on!” Hector left the round pen and started towards her, his frustration growing and Leilah walked even slower. Her school sandals scuffed the dust and blew a cloud of filth around her. Her fairy-sized steps shrank to a geriatric shuffle. The chestnut gelding housed in the round pen shook his head and blew out a snort. Seeing Hector move away from him, he scraped his hooves against the stony ground and let out a high whinny of concern. “You been messing with Horse’s boy?” Hector demanded, meeting Leilah at the top of the rise. His muscular bulk obliterated the tiny three-bedroom house behind him which hugged the side of the mountain. Leilah shifted her head to the side to peer around her father, reassuring herself it hadn’t slipped away.
“Still there,” she muttered to herself.
“What?” Hector stood in front of her, hands jammed into jeans pockets. A tuft of dark hair peeked over the third button of his shirt and Leilah smirked at the sight.
She jerked her chin at his chest. “You’re flashing.”
Hector’s eyes widened and he glanced down, his fingers fumbling at his buttons. “Don’t try to put me off, Deleilah. Some of us have worked harder than others today.”
Leilah nodded and glanced at the young horse in the pen. “How’s he doing? Did you get a saddle on him?”
Hector winced. “Yep. And I wanted to put you up there, but you didn’t come home.”
“I’m here now.” Leilah threw her school bag next to the metal gate and clambered onto the bottom rung. “I can do it.”
“Not today.” Hector removed his cowboy hat and scratched his dark curls. Leilah reached up and stroked the flecks of grey in his sideburns.
“I’m here, Daddy. Put me up.”
Hector’s brown eyes flickered and he released a sigh. “Mari brought dinner,” he said, tapping Leilah’s nose with a dusty index finger. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Leilah nodded. “Yeah, but I wanna ride for you.”
“Tomorrow.” Hector squeezed her shoulder and winced. “You’re wet, Lei. Promise you didn’t go with Horse’s boy to the ngā hikuawa?”
“No!” Leilah stepped back with exasperation in her eyes. “Vaughan didn’t come to school today. I went to the stream with Tane.”
Hector exhaled and nodded. “I suppose you’re safe enough with the policeman’s boy. You need to be careful at your age, girly. Boys get ideas in their heads and I don’t wanna be loading my gun to deal with ‘em. I don’t have the time with this gelding to break. He’ll help us pay some bills and maybe we’ll eat next month.”
Leilah rolled her eyes. “No, Daddy. I’m careful. You know I am.” She cocked her head. “Are we struggling?”
Hector Dereham smiled and shook his head. “No more than most, kōtiro. We do okay.”
“Sorry for coming home late.” Leilah’s nose twitched and she reached up with a damp index finger and scratched the line of freckles dotting the regal arc to her brow. “I’ll come straight home tomorrow.”
“You do that.” Hector clasped her around the waist and lifted her down. He cuffed the back of her head, his touch gentle. “Go heat up that food Mari left.”
“What is it tonight?” Leilah patted her flat stomach and her mind wandered through imagined culinary delights.
“Beef crock pot.” Hector raised an eyebrow at her instant pout. “It’s leftovers from the cafe. Be grateful, kid. If it’s left to me, we’ll both starve.”
Leilah sloped off towards the house. It clung to the side of Mount Pirongia as though the slightest tremble of the earth would tip it off. She dumped her school bag on the porch and kicked off her shoes, relaxing in the familiar scent of home. Signs of Mari lurked in the kitchen and Leilah patted the aged oven gloves on the counter. Her mother’s old friend often fed them when Hector forgot or money proved short. When the stained telephone trilled in its cradle on the wall, Leilah snatched it up and barked out a greeting.
“Where you been at?” Mari demanded, her voice crackling over the tenuous connection.
“Nowhere,” Leilah replied, her tone sullen.
“I put a boil up in the oven,” Mari said. “But youse need to turn on the heat or it won’t warm through.”
Leilah stretched the cord as far as she dared without pulling the whole thing off the plasterboard wall. She knew from experience she could just about reach the knobs on the old cooker. “Done,” she announced, pinging backwards with the force of the coiled cable.
“You seen Horse’s boy today?” Mari asked, her tone suspicious.
“No!” Leilah snapped. “I don’t know why youse all keep asking that. He wasn’t at school today.”
Mari made an odd sound in her throat and Leilah listened to the cafe sounds in the background. Someone clanked crockery and glass without care and she heard Mari’s irritated exhale. “He’s sick,” she said and Leilah stopped picking at loose paint on the wall.
“What’s the matter with him?”
“Stomach,” Mari answered. “He went to the hospital, but he’s home now.”
Leilah pulled an ugly grimace into the cracked picture frame on the wall. “So why is everyone asking me if I’ve seen him then?” She pouted, disliking the effect on her features. “You and Hector are full of dumb questions. How can I see him at school if he’s at the hospital?”
“Don’t get mouthy with me, kōtiro!” Mari snapped. “Heat that dinner for your father. He’s worked hard on that horse today.”
Leilah moved her lips in a silent impression of Mari and sighed. “I turned the oven up,” she replied.
“Then don’t let it burn,” Mari grumbled. The handset fizzed as the call ended without a goodbye.
Leilah stuck her tongue out at the phone and a large hand on her shoulder made her jump in fright. “Don’t disrespect your elders,” Hector said and squeezed her neck between his giant fingers.
“Ouch!” Leilah protested and pushed his hand away.
“This is no good for you, Lei.” Hector sounded wistful as he twisted one of her long curls around his thumb. “You should have a mother.”
Leilah swallowed. “I have a father. It’s great just the two of us. We need no one else.”
Hector’s brows knitted and he nodded. “Maybe,” he whispered.
Leilah pressed her cheek against his hard chest muscles. “Please Hector. Don’t go all depressed on me.”
He sighed, ignoring her reversion to his Christian name and tapped the top of her head. “Where’s my kai?”
“In the oven. It’s cooking.” Leilah kissed his dusty shirt front and dropped her arms by her sides. He never met her embrace and it pained her. She dragged her school bag off the porch and closed the sliding door behind her. “I’ve got homework,” she said, shooting the comment over her shoulder and retreating to her tatty bedroom at the other end of the house.