“Toby rode up with him to the stock in the forty-eighth this afternoon. He’ll be here soon.” She pushed a spoon into the teapot and smiled at her son. “I’m glad you came; you look well. Hei koanga ngākau.” She patted his hand with sturdy, work worn hands but Logan’s eyes flashed towards Hana with unease. He drew his fingers away and nodded.
“I’ll wash my hands.”
Hana’s brow knitted with confusion at the Māori phrase. She knew that one. Wonderful news. What wonderful news? She watched Logan disappear through a door in the distance and heard running water.
His mother’s manner seemed excitable, like a child with a new toy. She squeezed her open, brown face up in pleasure and Hana allowed herself to relax. Logan returned and took the cushion next to Hana, his movement subtle as he forced Mi
