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manes and tails streaming in the wind. And she could have any one she chose.
    ‘You didn’t say what you’re doing in this part of the world?’
    Talk about single-minded! But she determined she was not going to let him worry at her like a dog with a bone. ‘That’s private business.’ She kept her eyes shut so that he could not read the expression in her eyes.
    ‘How long have you lived in this area, Hudson?’ She was searching for clues and if he was just a new-comer she would not waste her time on him.
    ‘All my life. Born here, well almost. My mother said with Dad’s careless regard for time it was lucky they made it to the Maternity Hospital in time. But it was different in those days. For instance, there were no roads in, just tracks across the paddocks, fords instead of bridges and culverts, real pioneering stuff.’
    Keeping her eyes closed she ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the tiny curls about her face already springing back into place. She could feel him staring at her intently.
    ‘Want another cup of tea?’
    ‘No, thanks.’
    ‘Well, I do,’ he said cheerfully, then as if sensing her interest he continued, ‘When I say I was born here, I don’t mean on this side of the river. We only bought this about five years ago, so we own the whole valley now, something my father always dreamed about, when he came here as a young man.’
    Serenity opened her eyes and gazed at the lush green pastures and well fenced paddocks, the silver ribbon of river which flashed between the native bush and to her left the perfection of the lake, and feasted her eyes on the great purple-green forest-clad hills which encircled the valley and beyond them the Southern Alps in all their glory.
    ‘Beautiful, just beautiful. . . any man would dream of owning this.’
    ‘Yes, you’re right. We’ve been very fortunate, but dreams don’t just happen, they have to be worked at. When he came here there were no roads, no power, no telephone, no fences; it was really wild country, just a run.’
    ‘It’s still wild and rugged looking, lonely and lovely.’
    ‘You’d get on with my father. He just loves the Haupiri as much today as when he first discovered it; it’s part of him and he’s part of it ... my mother, too, of course. She was a city girl, and it must have been tough on her adapting to the isolation and the hardships, in the beginning. The Bar 2 would never have been the success it is today if she had not been the woman she is . . . you need a strong and intelligent mate beside you to subdue this kind of country.’
    The love and admiration for his parents was deep and Serenity was oddly affected by his openness in speaking of it. To cover the emotion she felt, she asked quickly, ‘Why do you call it the Bar 2?’
    ‘That’s the brand, a bar with a 2 under it. It’s the name of the Station. The cattle and horses and saddles were all branded with the 2 when my father came here, and he liked the idea and so registered it—but today only the wool goes out that way.’
    It was obvious that he enjoyed talking about the Station, and she watched him as she listened to his deep attractive voice describing the early days and the trials and triumphs. She hardly noticed the time passing as he spoke of his own childhood and his years at boarding school, and at Lincoln Agricultural College, his year in Canada and a further year in Europe and Scandinavia.
    Abruptly he stopped. ‘I must have bored you stupid. Why didn’t you stop me?’
    ‘No,’ she protested. 'I’ve loved listening. It’s just so unexpected, away out here in the backblocks. After travelling all those miles through bush and swamps I didn’t expect to find a wide fertile valley hidden in the hills, and you . . . sitting there at ease talking of painting, literature, European history and architecture. It’s a surprise, that’s all.’ in what way?’
    He sounded faintly amused.
    ‘Well, I would have expected to find people living a fairly