A Whisper of Danger (36 page)

Splint grabbed Hannah and pulled her over to his bag to show off his finds. Andrew cornered Rick. Hunky and his crew knelt on the lawn to compare the booty. Jess watched the scene for a moment, thinking how familiar it felt. Familiar and right. She had prayed for peace. For the first time, she felt it slip around her heart.

When someone tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped at the unexpected touch. “Yes?”

“Jessica Thornton.”

Jess turned to discover one final visitor of the day. As she lifted her head, she looked into the bright green eyes of Omar Hafidh.

S
EVENTEEN

Splinter couldn’t believe it when he glanced up from the hoisting basket to find his mother deep in conversation with Omar Hafidh—that green-eyed goon! The guy had come right up behind her when nobody was looking. Now he was talking to her, staring into her eyes, and . . . he was touching her!

“Mama Hannah, he’s holding her hand!” Splint hissed. “That’s totally putrid!”

“Perhaps the man wishes to ask her a question. It is the African way to hold the hand of a friend.”

“She’s not his friend.”

“But you are my friend, and I have missed you today,
toto
.” Hannah took Splint’s hand. “Did you know I saved all the mango seeds from breakfast? Shall we play our game on the verandah while we still have some daylight?”

Splint gave the old woman a smile. There was almost nothing he liked better than their mango-seed game. Hannah had taught him how to play right after he got to Zanzibar.

First they took two of the four-inch-long seeds that were shaped like bars of soap—and when coated with stringy mango pulp were just as slippery. They set the seeds side by side at one end of the long verandah. Hannah would count in Swahili,
“Moja, mbili, tatu!”

Then she and Splint would stomp on their seeds with their bare feet. Each seed would shoot like a rocket down the concrete floor. The seed that traveled farthest was the winner. It was a gooey, sticky, slippery, messy game—and Splint loved it.

But right now he was much more interested in what his mother was saying to Omar Hafidh. She had tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she was nodding like she agreed with everything he told her. Splint glanced at Rick.

Now there was a sight. Rick’s blue eyes were fairly shooting flames as he watched the couple on the edge of the cliff. The back of his neck had turned bright red, and Splint knew it wasn’t a sunburn. He elbowed Hannah in the ribs.

“Rick’s going to clobber Omar Hafidh,” he whispered. “Rick doesn’t want my mom to have a boyfriend. Not unless it’s Rick himself.”

Hannah studied the scene for a moment. “
Toto
, perhaps you should take
Bwana
McTaggart to play the mango-seed game on the verandah.”

“No way. I’m going to find out what that freakazoid is up to with my mom. Watch me in action.” Splint put down the heavy piece of conglomerate he’d been showing Hannah and walked across the lawn to his mother.

“Hey, Mom,” he said. “What’s up?”

She reached out a hand and smoothed down his damp hair. “Splint, you remember Omar Hafidh, don’t you? He’s Dr. bin Yusuf ’s nephew. We met him in Zanzibar.”

“I know who he is.” Splint stuck out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Hafidh.”

“Good evening.” Those green eyes scrutinized the boy until he felt like a squid under a microscope. Then Omar again focused on Splint’s mom. “Tomorrow evening, then? We shall dine at one of the beach hotels. The Bahari. They have good dancing.”

“Dancing?” Splint exclaimed.

His mom gave him one of her withering looks. Then she turned back to Green Eyes. “I’d enjoy that. You’ll pick me up, then? Around seven?”

“Seven o’clock will be very good.” He lifted the hand he’d been holding and gave the knuckles a kiss. “I shall look forward to seeing you then.”

Splint thought he was going to barf! His mom was going out on a date with Omar Hafidh? Omar the green-eyed monster? Omar the Incredible Hulk with shoulders the size of Zanzibar Island? How could she do that?

“Mom!” he screeched as the man walked away toward his car. “Mom, what are you doing?”

“Splint, please get control of yourself. You’re practically foaming at the mouth.” She started off toward the house as though nothing momentous had happened. “Wash your hands for supper, please.”

“Mom! Mom!” He scampered to her side as she strode past Rick. One look at him and Splint knew things were as bad as he’d feared. Rick didn’t look happy at all. He had two white spots on his cheeks, and a vein on his forehead was twitching. “Mom, are you going out on a date with that guy?”

“Omar? Sure. I haven’t been out to dinner in a long time.”

“And dancing! Did you say you’d dance with him? Mom?”

“Will you please calm down, Splint? I’ve had people combing through the house all day, and I’m exhausted. The last thing I need is your histrionics.”

“Mom, you can’t go out with him.” He caught up close enough to grab her arm. Giving a quick glance behind to make sure they were alone on the verandah, he stood on tiptoe and whispered his message. “Rick likes you! He told me so himself. Today on the boat! You can’t go out with Omar Hafidh. You need to go out with Rick!”

Splint’s mom put her hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes until he had no choice but to be quiet. “Rick McTaggart has not asked me to go out, Splint. Omar Hafidh has.”

“But, Mom, that guy’s a total Frankenstein.”

“He’s a nice man.”

“You just like his muscles.”

“I do not like his muscles. Well . . . I don’t hate them. But I’m not going out with his muscles, Splint. I’ve been wanting to talk to Omar for some time. There are things we need to work out about Uchungu House and about Dr. bin Yusuf ’s art. Giles Knox is going to spend the next three days here, and I’m trying to get a feel for the relationship between him and Omar. There are some things I need to know, Splint, and I think I can get my answers tomorrow night.”

“If you marry Omar Hafidh, I’ll never forgive you. I don’t want him to be my father. I want Rick to be my father!”

She let out a breath. “Splint, honey, I’m not going to marry Omar. We’re just going out to dinner, that’s all. Now, come over here and sit down on my lap. I need to tell you something very important.”

Splint had always liked cuddling up with his mother. She was soft and warm, and she smelled good. He had been crawling into her lap since he was a little baby, and he hoped there would never come a time when he’d be too big. When she cradled him, his mother always looked deeply into his eyes. She always told him how much she loved him. It was the time they connected best.

Now he climbed onto her lap and folded his long legs into the big pillowy chair on the verandah. He knew his mom would get water and sand all over her skirt, but she wouldn’t mind. He had just laid his head on her shoulder when Rick McTaggart walked up to the edge of the verandah where his motorcycle was waiting. He studied Splint and his mom for a moment. His face was rigid, like he was trying hard not to show how he felt when he looked at the two of them.

“I understand you’ll be busy tomorrow night, Jessie,” he said in a low voice.

“She’s going out to dinner with Omar Hafidh,” Splint told him, “and dancing, too. They’re going dancing at one of the beach hotels.”

“Is that right, Jessie?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

Rick raked his fingers through his hair. Splint could see the vein leaping around in his forehead. Rick clenched his jaw like he had something to say and was trying to hold it back. Then he hooked his leg over the cycle, started the engine, and roared off in a blast that sent gravel spraying across the verandah.

“He’s mad,” Splint said. “He likes you, and you’re going out on a date with that green-eyed gorilla instead of with him.”

“Rick could ask me out on a date if he wanted to.”

“Would you go?”

She hardly hesitated a moment. “Yes.”

“You didn’t used to like him.”

“That’s true.”

“It’s because of the past, isn’t it, Mom? It’s because of when you and Rick knew each other before. A long time ago.”

She nodded. “Splinter, honey, I’ve told you about some of the things that happened when I was very young. But not everything. You were right when you said I had held some information back from you. At the time, I didn’t think you needed to know. Now you do.”

“Rick is my father,” he said. “Isn’t he?”

She stiffened. “Splint . . .”

“Am I right? Is Rick my father?”

“Yes, sweetheart. He is.”

“I figured it out. You wouldn’t tell me, but I guessed it anyway.” Splint felt so strange all of a sudden. A mixed-up ball of feelings rolled around in his stomach—joy, anger, disbelief, resentment, loss, exhilaration. Even though he didn’t want them, tears filled his eyes. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me?”

“At first, it didn’t seem to matter. You were little. We lived in London, so far away from Africa. I didn’t think I would ever see Rick McTaggart again.”

“And here he is. Right here in Zanzibar. Mom, God wanted you to find Rick again.”

Her arms tightened around him. Hannah walked across the verandah into the house and gave them one of her smiles, as though she knew exactly what they were talking about. Splint brushed a tear off his cheek. He really hated it when he cried, but sometimes he just couldn’t help it. And finding out who his father really was seemed like as good a time as any. Especially since his father was Rick McTaggart, his favorite friend in the whole world.

“God did want Rick and me to find each other,” Splint heard his mom say. “I had been very angry with him for leaving. I couldn’t forgive him, and I’d grown bitter. But now—through a lot of prayer and a lot of long conversations with Rick—I understand why he went away. He had many problems to work his way through. He needed to grow up before he could take his place in your life. He needed to find out who he really was. Most of all, he needed to give his heart to Jesus. Rick did all those things, Splint. Now he’s truly ready to be your father. And I’m willing to let him.”

“Does Rick know I’m his son?”

“I told him last night.”

“What did he say?” He wiped off another tear. “Did he . . . did he sound glad? Does he like me, Mom? Does he want me?”

She kissed his wet cheek. “He loves you, Splint. He asked me if he could take you out on the dive boat today just to watch you. He wants to be with you more than anything in the world.”

“I noticed he was awfully happy today. Every time we were up on deck, he was singing and laughing and telling stories. I thought it was because of you.”

“Me?”

“I asked him why he was grinning, and he started singing one of his goofy songs about a ‘purty little gal.’ So I said, ‘Who’s the purtiest little gal you know, Rick?’ And he said, ‘Your mother, Jessie.’ So I asked him if he liked you, and he said he sure did. Then he got real serious, and he told me you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. He said you have a good heart, and you’re talented and sweet and on and on until I thought I was going to get sick. Then he told me I was blessed to have you for a mother. So I said, ‘If you think she’s so great, why don’t you ask her out on a date?’ And he said he thought he just might do that.”

“Really?”

Splint sat up and looked into his mother’s eyes. “But you’re going out with Omar Hafidh!”

“Yes, I am. There’s more to it than you know.” She shook her head. “And no, I’m not going to tell you everything that happens in my life—everything I’m doing and thinking and feeling. There are some things ten-year-old boys just don’t need to know. This is one of them.”

He nuzzled back into her shoulder. “I’m glad you told me about Rick,” he said. “I think you made a good choice when you married him—even if he did run off and leave you and me alone for a while. I’m going to like having him for a dad. We’ll be the best family ever.”

Splint could hear his mother catch her breath. He knew she didn’t have any plans to be Rick McTaggart’s wife again. But then, Hannah always said God knew best. And Splint had no doubt God was planning to give him a mother . . . a father . . . a family. The sooner the better.