Carra’s great pride gave way when he was about to ride out, and she clutched at his leg with both hands, weeping softly. “Oh Jamie, don’t go. Don’t bring her back here—I know I can make you happy if you’ll only give me a chance!”

Though he ached to be on his way, Jamie couldn’t be unkind to Carra. In frustration, he swept his worn hat off his head and then put it on again. “Carra,” he said, and the word was a gentle reprimand.

She released her grasp on his thigh and retreated a step, one hand over her mouth, tears still glistening in her eyes. “I’ll stay until you send someone,” she said, after several agonizing moments. “Only until you send someone.”

Jamie understood that Carra’s sensibilities would not allow her to remain in his house any longer than necessary. If it hadn’t been for the stock, there would have been no real need for her to stay.

He promised to send one of the shepherds to tend the barn animals and rode away.

Finding the main flock and relaying the order took another precious hour, and the icy winter sun was high in the sky when Jamie finally set out for Auckland.

Bliss counted herself fortunate to have caught a ride with a farmer and his wife; she was more than happy to sit on the hard, splintery floorboards of their wagon, her feet dangling out over the rutted road, her satchel at her side.

In order to distract herself from an aching, hopeless desire to be back in that isolated farmhouse with Jamie McKenna and the rigors of a wagon trip that would take hours, Bliss planned for the future.

Upon reaching Auckland, she decided, she would go to her Aunt Calandra for guidance.

Bliss had never actually met her mother’s older sister, but there had been all those kind letters and the parcels, containing clothing and small gifts, that had arrived at Christmas and on birthdays. These things seemed to indicate a soft heart, and at this point in her life, Bliss Stafford McKenna was in sore need of a gentle-natured relative.

She drew a deep breath, let it out as a despairing little sigh. It would be better this way, she insisted to herself. She’d done the right thing to leave Jamie; her only regret was that she hadn’t found a way to escape earlier, before he’d marked her, forever, as his own.

Maybe no man would want her now, even in faraway America, where her sins could not follow. Or could they?

It was too cold to cry—the tears would make ice on her cheeks, she was sure—so Bliss stood steadfast against the impulse. Inside, though, she was all broken and sore.

She sat up very straight on the floorboards of the wagon and forced her mind back to Auckland and Aunt Calandra. After a few days of visiting that lady, and recovering both her spirit and her energy, Bliss meant to find that position she’d been dreaming of for so many years. She’d leave New Zealand and all its unpleasant memories, Mr. McKenna included, far behind.