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Back The Wilderness Between Us Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Author’s Note
  4. Glossary
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Acknowledgments

He looked up. Faye had returned. She stood, panting as she stared at him from the other side of the river. Thank God! Faye would listen to him this time. Like she always had. It was why he’d chosen her, married her, despite her shortcomings. Faye, the Holy Saint of Altruism. The woman who always saw the good in others, even when their malice threw a shadow across the sun. She was the only person he knew who disproved the notion that anger was easy and kind was hard. For her, kind was easy and anger unknown. Faye, the one who loved him and knew his worth, and whose loyalty was unshakable. She’d help him across the water and take him to Clare.

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Three

Faye made her way up the ravine in something of a daze. She hadn’t eaten since the crackers and cheese she’d had at Heuningbos the previous day while waiting for Clare. Her blood sugar was low, her head cried for coffee and the hours on her feet were taking their toll.

It was the dislodged boulder, clotted with mud and leaning as if pointing at the thorn bush where she’d landed earlier, that made her realise how far she had come. She stepped over it to examine the broken branches. Distracted by the thorns she’d removed from her flesh, she hadn’t noticed how pretty the plant was with its waxy green leaves and star-shaped white flowers.

A call, kewee-kewee-kewee, made her look upwards. Faye recognised the bars and blotches of black on white on the crown eagle’s breast and belly as it performed an elaborate display of rise-and-fall manoeuvres directly above her. With a few wing-flaps at the top of each climb, the large bird undertook a series of steep dives and ascents, finishing each with circle or a figure of eight.

The clouds were all but gone and Faye speculated whether the eagle, vociferous in his exploits, was making the most of the clear skies to warn interlopers against entering his airspace. She watched as the bird was joined by his mate. With a lower kooee-kooee-kooee call, the female flew towards him before plummeting earthwards. The male threw back his head and, with a shrill call, followed her. The birds swooped and soared, performing a striking mid-air dance, until they disappeared into the valley together. Were they, she wondered, among the eagles Clare said were monogamous?

Revived by the break and prodded by thoughts of the girl in the forest, Faye walked on. Her mind had cleared. There was much to think about and yet, she felt calm.