‘That wasn’t necessary, but thank you. So, Wynand, I will go. Your Neeltje’s settled with her baby. You’re a grandfather. You’ve found yourself a good son-in-law.’

‘I have. You just don’t know who the Almighty will send to your door. Neeltje’s happy with him. And look what he’s done—the sheep have increased, even after that terrible raid, there are a dozen workers, and crops.’

‘Don’t leave yourself out of it. If it wasn’t for you, there wouldn’t be anything at all.’

‘Maybe so. But he kept this place going during my illness. Last year at the wedding, you drank your brandy in the kitchen. Now, we’re sitting in a voorkamer. He built it. That, and an extra room, and that stall in the back for privacy.’

‘He’s good with his hands, I’ll say that for him. And he’s mad for Neeltje. All that remains is you, eh? What about the widow, man? She looks like she’s lost some of that fat around her neck. She’s not bad, and she likes Neeltje and Harman.’

‘We don’t need two women in the house and I’m too old for a woman’s nonsense. A man gets selfish in his later years.’

‘Perhaps so, but the fire’s not out in the galley. Neeltje might not be here forever.’

Something in his voice made Wynand look up.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I saw Stoffel. He told me an interesting story.’

‘We haven’t seen him since the wedding. Where is he?’

‘He travels, he hears things. The field cornet was called out to a place a week north from here. A murder in cold blood, self-defence, some say. Talk is that there was trouble over a son cast out over the killing of a stallion. Wrongfully accused, as it turns out. The kommando’s out looking for him.’

‘Why?’

‘The father’s ill. He wants him to come home.’

‘You waited all this time to tell me?’

‘You had other things on your mind; Neeltje, the baby. I wasn’t sure.’

‘What makes you sure now?’

‘I’m not.’

Wynand went to the window and looked out. He didn’t speak for a long time.

‘It’s him. He told me the day he came. “I want you to know I stand accused of a crime I didn’t commit.” I believed him. I would have believed anything he said, there was just something about him. He didn’t have to tell me. He didn’t have to tell me many things. There was also that bosjesman girl, Harman’s mother. He didn’t hide what he felt. It was his eyes and his honesty that drew me to him.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘It’s his father. I have to tell him.’

Otto came over and patted him on the arm.

‘You got used to him, I know. He’ll go and he’ll come back. If he doesn’t—well, my friend, that’s how life is. You know the man your daughter married. Neeltje will go with her husband, but her father will never be out of her thoughts.’

Chapter Sixteen

‘It’s strange how life is, Neeltje. Fifty years ago Willem Kloot was born in a wagon somewhere on these mountains. Today, we’re the parents, out here in the dark, and it’s the same struggle and danger.’

Neeltje looked out over the fire into the night. There was a moon and she could make out the hilly top of the rant against the skyline. It was a night for two, but Roeloff was in a questioning mood, silent and brooding since learning of his father’s illness. He’d told her he didn’t know what waited for him at Kloot’s Nek, or how long he might be, and she could stay at home with Harman and Beatrix if she wished, or accompany him. He would understand if she didn’t want to travel with children through wild territory. There was nothing that she needed to consider. Her father’s health had been restored, and he had encouraged her to go. Beatrix nuzzled her face into her mother’s bodice and Neeltje put the infant to her breast.

‘What do you think, Neeltje?’

‘Pa says we come here to learn.’

‘Where is the lesson in this? In being disowned and going back home when he’s dying, after two years without my family? What am I supposed to learn from that?’

It was amazing to her, men’s thinking. They could fix and provide, but when it came to matters of the heart, things they couldn’t physically lay their hands on, of that they knew nothing.

‘God’s not responsible for the things we bring upon ourselves. What’s the good that came from it?’

‘What?’ Roeloff asked.

‘You had a son. You met me.’

He looked at her, surprised.

‘You endured pain,’ she continued. ‘It made you strong. Perhaps it was to prepare you for greater things. Pain sharpens the senses, Pa says. Perhaps you had to leave home to prepare for the task of taking over.’

‘Taking over Kloot’s Nek?’

‘Yes.’

‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’

‘Men think only of physical things.’

A smile softened his eyes.

‘Careful, Neeltje, or I’ll take that baby from your breast and show you physical.’

‘You have a big opinion of yourself, Roeloff Kloot.’

He laughed, a wonderful sound to her ears.

‘You love me, Neeltje? You never tell me.’ He moved close, kissing her neck.

Did she love him? Could she breathe without air? She would follow him over all Africa’s mountains, just to be near him, to see him with his children.

‘Yes.’

‘I know it was hard leaving your father. It was hard for me.’

They sat for a few minutes staring into the fire, a comfortable ease between them.

‘The first few days will be hard, Roff, you’ll feel strange in your old home. You must prepare yourself for the worst.’