Paradise Wild (14 page)

Samuel Barrows did not stop voicing his disapproval of his daughter’s decision. He tried to get her to reconsider, even at the train depot, but he knew he couldn’t stop her. He did, however, make her promise to write frequently.

“And if you get into any trouble, you come home immediately.”

“I will, Father.”

To Russell he said, “I should have let you marry her, Drayton. I wish to God I had.”

“I hope you remember that, sir, after I convince Corinne to divorce Burkett.”

“Yes, well,” Samuel said noncommittally. “I’m rather glad you’re going along. Keep her out of mischief, will you?” He spoke to both Russell and Florence at once. And Russell replied for them both. “If that’s possible.”

Corinne was grateful that she had seen no one she knew on the way to the train station. It was the first time she had left her house since the terrible morning after her wedding. When she returned, she wouldn’t care what people thought. She would have the satisfaction of knowing that she had gotten even with Jared, and perhaps even bested him. She could face anything after that.

The trip across country was not unpleasant. A quarter century ago it would have been difficult. But with the completion of the Union Pacific railroad in 1869, the journey took only a week. Corinne and Russell and Florence spent another week in San Francisco, waiting for a ship.

San Francisco was a bustling metropolis, so unlike sedate, ordered Boston, even for a city-bred girl. The three of them loved the noisy, colorful place. Corinne wondered what it was like during the gold rush. How many had struck it rich? How many died trying? That had been a time of adventure, when anything was possible.

In an elegant gambling house that catered only to the very rich, Corinne finally played in the no-limit game that had been her dream for so long. She won five thousand dollars. But it didn’t seem to matter anymore Jared had ruined the excitement for her, she reasoned. He had become her obsession.

No matter where she went or what she did, Jared seemed always to be with her. As the days brought her closer to Hawaii, Jared filled her mind more and more. It wouldn’t have been so disturbing, except that she began recalling their wedding night. She couldn’t forget it, though she had sworn to blot out the whole night.

As soon as they were out to sea she took to her bed with seasickness, and this, too, she blamed on Jared. Another mark against him, she swore.

She spent the whole three weeks crossing the Pacific lying in her bed. She lost weight. She felt terrible. And all the while she cursed Jared for every moment of her suffering. When the ship finally docked in Honolulu she was almost too weak to get out of bed, but with a tremendous desire to touch land and Florence’s help she found her way out of her cabin and onto the deck.

Corinne was pleasantly surprised. It was December 12, a time for snow and freezing cold back in Boston
but here there were balmy ocean breezes and sunshine, and a definite fragrance in the air.

“You smell it, too?” Florence remarked. “It’s flowers, all right. I learned a lot about Hawaii while you were indisposed. Visitors here are greeted with leis. It seems to be a tradition, and a nice one.”

“Leis?”

“Wreaths of cut flowers to wear around the neck. This isn’t Boston, my dear. Flowers grow here all year round. We’re in the tropics now,” Florence said, already fanning herself with a lace handkerchief. “I suppose it will take us a while to get used to the heat.”

“I like it.”

“You wouldn’t if this were summer instead of the winter season,” Florence replied. “I’m told it can be unbearably hot for
malihinis
in summer. It’s a good thing we will be gone before then.”

“Malihinis?”

“That’s what the Hawaiians call newcomers,” Florence explained with a touch of pride.

“My, you certainly are well-informed,” Corinne grinned. “You must tell me more.”

Florence didn’t mind Corinne’s teasing tone. “It doesn’t hurt to know something about where you’re going. There were quite a few passengers who had been here before. And the Captain was very knowledgeable.”

“You’re right,” Corinne confessed. “I should have taken the time to learn something about Hawaii. After all, I could have read up on it while I was bedridden instead of moaning my sorrows to the blank walls.”

“You can do that while you’re regaining your strength. That’s going to take a few weeks.”

“Well, the sooner I get settled, the sooner I can recover. Where is Russell?”

“He’s gone to see about our baggage. He said he would meet us on the dock with a carriage.”

They moved through the throng of people on the dock and were greeted with
alohas
from friendly Hawaiians in bright floral clothes, bearing leis for every passenger. Other natives offered fresh island fruits. And a group of musicians were playing while local girls of dark beauty in colorful sarongs danced for the new arrivals.

Corinne was given two leis made of plumeria. She thanked the giver with a smile, but the scent of the flowers became cloying and she felt her stomach turning again.

“I have to sit down, Florence,” she said, grabbing the older woman’s arm.

“Come.” Florence led her to a crate in some shade. “Wait here. I’ll get you some of that fruit the vendors are selling. It’s a wonder you can walk at all, you’ve eaten so little lately.”

She came back in a moment with a large chunk of cut pineapple wrapped in a
ti
leaf, and a small basket with bananas, coconuts, and guavas in it.

“What kind of fruit is that?” Corinne asked warily.

“I’ve never seen the likes of it myself, but it’s grown fresh here. Try this pineapple. They say there is nothing as delicious.”

Corinne brought the yellow fruit to her lips but gagged when she smelled it. “Take it away.”

“What’s wrong, Cori?”

“Just take it away,” Corinne moaned, turning sickly white. “I thought this nausea would go away once I left the ship, but it hasn’t yet.”

“Corinne—are you sure it isn’t—something else?” Florence asked hesitantly. “You shouldn’t be ill now. In fact, the ship’s doctor told me that you shouldn’t
have been ill at all. People don’t get sick on a smooth voyage like the one we had.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“That you might be pregnant.”

Corinne managed a chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would know, wouldn’t I?”

“Would you, as preoccupied as you have been with Jared Burkett? When is the last time you had your monthly flow?” she asked pointedly.

Corinne couldn’t answer. She couldn’t remember having it recently. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said impatiently.

“Think!”

She did, and the only time she could recall was before Jared raped her. Her green eyes widened and darkened almost instantly.

“No!”

“There’s no use denying it, Cori. He sure was a virile devil.”

“I won’t have his child! My God, how much more is he going to ruin my life?”

“There’s not much you can do about bearing the child. It’s already growing.”

“Well, I won’t keep it!”

“That’s up to you,” Florence said with cold disapproval. “But right now we have to decide where you’re going to have it. You can’t very well go through with that absurd plan of yours now, not when you’ll be showing soon. Maybe we should consider going back home right now.”

Corinne grimaced at the thought. “I would die before I got back on a ship this soon. No, we’ll stay here. I’m not giving up my plan. It will just have to be postponed for a while.”

Corinne reclined in the shade on her large outdoor lanai overlooking the bustling city of Honolulu. She sipped a lemonade, and frowned every time the baby moved inside her. A notebook rested on her lap for the letter she wasn’t really in the mood to write. She wasn’t in a mood for much of anything except feeling sorry for herself.

Florence had gone down to the market, and Russell was off having fun somewhere. Corinne bitterly resented her forced confinement, but she had made the choice herself not to be seen by anyone in her present condition. She couldn’t take the chance that Jared might find out. He wasn’t going to know about the child, she would make sure of that.

God, how callous she sounded. But she blamed that on Jared, too. He had introduced her to hate, and hate had eaten away any compassion she might once have had.

Her father wouldn’t like this letter. But then he hadn’t liked any of the letters she sent home. She always sounded so bitter and hard. Cold, he had called her. Jared had, too. Perhaps she was. But she was strong. It was not easy to be a woman.

Corinne sealed her letter and took it into the house. Florence would mail it. The house was so quiet. Even the stern German cook they had hired had gone off for the afternoon.

With no one to talk to, Corinne became restless and
went outside to work in the garden. An hour or so later, the carriage drove up the steep hill and Florence alighted with baskets of fresh meat and vegetables. She found Corinne trimming the hibiscus shrubs that formed a fence around the yard, dense green shrubs with huge paperlike flowers of yellow and red.

Florence frowned. “Look at you, Cori. You’re roasting in the sun.”

Corinne wiped dripping sweat from her brow with a dirty hand. “I have nothing better to do.”

“When it’s this hot, you could at least work in the shade, my girl. It’s a wonder you don’t faint in this heat. Now come along and I’ll run you a cool bath.”

She helped Corinne to her feet and up the few steps at the front of the house. A porch bordered the front, and potted ferns and flowers hung from the rafters and were set along the banisters. Young palms grew at the corners of the house, front and back. Such a profusion of delightful fragrances and colors made the porch a welcome place to relax.

“You wait here, Cori, while I put these baskets away and get your bath ready.”

“I don’t know why I let you mother me like this,” Corinne complained, then smiled tiredly. “But a long cool bath does sound nice. My back has been nagging me again.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were farther along than you are,” Florence remarked, eyeing Corinne’s large belly under the tentlike Hawaiian dress called a
muumuu
.

“Don’t be silly.” Corinne used the phrase she always used when someone came near the truth.

Florence shook her head and went on into the house. Corinne sat down awkwardly in one of the rattan chairs on the porch. It was possible, she thought sullenly, pat
ting her belly. She could indeed give birth any day now. But even though that would end her waiting, she didn’t want it to be so. Then she would have to explain to Florence about the first time she and Jared had been together, and she would rather keep that to herself.

A breeze stirred the plants on the porch and brought with it the intoxicating fragrance of gardenias from the bushes in front of the house. Corinne breathed deeply of the scent that had become her favorite, but then she held the breath as her back ached sharply again. Too much bending over, she thought angrily. She should have known better. She couldn’t even work in the yard anymore without the child causing her discomfort.

How she resented it. The baby had caused her nothing but trouble, even from its conception. Corinne felt defeated, ready to take to her bed and not leave it.

“Come along, Cori.” Florence opened the front door. “The tub is full.”

Corinne started to get up but couldn’t, and fell back with a huff. “You’ll have to help me. I can’t even get out of a chair anymore.”

Florence chuckled and took Corinne’s hand to pull her up. “You’re just having a terrible time of it aren’t you, my dear? It’s too bad
he
couldn’t be here to share in what he did and listen to all your complaints.”

“If he were here right now, I think I would gladly cut his throat for this!”

“Now, now. It took the two of you to make that baby. You did want to marry him, remember?”

“Don’t remind me. I didn’t know he was just using me to get at my father. And he damn well didn’t have to do what he did before he left! Nor did he have to leave me with a baby!”

“Now, Cori, the doctor warned you about upsetting yourself. And we’ve been over this time and again. You
know I feel you should have left well enough alone. No good can come of vengeance.”

“Satisfaction can come of it,” Corinne said stubbornly. Then, suddenly, she gasped and doubled over in pain.

“What is it?” Florence asked, then her hazel eyes widened. “Oh, Lord, it’s not coming prematurely, is it?”

“No,” Corinne said after the spasm passed. “I’m afraid it’s on time. You were right about my being farther along.”

“I knew there was something you were hiding from me back there before the wedding. No wonder you rushed into it so quickly.”

“Florence, please!” Corinne moaned. “I will explain later. Right now, just get me to bed. My back is killing me.”

“Oh, Lord, it’s going to be one of
those
births,” Florence mumbled to herself.

“What?”

“Nothing, love. Come on. I’ll get you to your room and then go for the doctor.”

“No!” Corinne cried. “You can’t leave me!”

“All right, Cori, all right,” Florence said soothingly. “We have lots of time anyway. I’ll send the cook for the doctor when she comes back.”

Eighteen hours later, Corinne fought against consciousness. That terrible pain that had wrenched her body was still too well-remembered. She just wanted to sleep, now that it was over, and forget the agony. But that awful crying wouldn’t let her.

“Here, Mrs. Drayton.”

Corinne kept her eyes closed. She knew Dr. Bryson was talking to her, for she had assumed Russell’s name
for the sake of appearances. After all, he was living in the same house with her. Why couldn’t the doctor leave her alone now? He had bullied her for the last few hours, telling her what to do, coaxing her to relax when she knew she couldn’t. He kept saying it wasn’t time yet, when she knew she would die if the agony didn’t stop.

Dr. Bryson had complained that she was the worst patient he had ever had, whereupon she had told him to go to hell. He was shocked by her language, for she had cursed Jared with every loathsome name she had ever picked up as a child visiting the shipyard. Jared’s name had come to her lips every time the pressure became unbearable. Lord, his ears must have been ringing. She only wished he could have been here to receive her curses.

“Mrs. Drayton, please.”

She opened her eyes. “Can’t you leave me alone now? I just want to sleep.”

“We’re not finished yet.”

“I am!”

Dr. Bryson sighed. He was a little man in his late forties, with thinning hair and large spectacles that kept falling down his long nose. He was really at the end of his patience.

“I have to cut the cord yet. You will have to hold your baby for a moment.”

“No!”

“You are the most disagreeable young woman I have ever met,” he scolded her. “Now stop being unreasonable.”

“Let Florence hold it,” Corinne said stubbornly while she avoided looking at the wailing infant. “You know I don’t want to see it. I told you that beforehand.”

“Your maid has gone for fresh water.”

“Well, wait until she returns!”

“Do you want to risk infection?” he asked harshly. “Now hold your child!”

He didn’t give her a chance to refuse again, but placed the baby at her side in the crook of her arm. Corinne turned away quickly before she saw it. She wanted no memory, no picture of it to carry in her mind.

“Hurry up, will you?” Corinne said bitterly as the child continued to wail.

It seemed to scream louder when the cord was cut and Corinne gasped. Dr. Bryson smiled.

“Relax, Mrs. Drayton.”

“Did you hurt it?”

“No.”

“Well, take it back then.”

“Not yet. We still have you to finish with. Now push,” he said and applied pressure to her abdomen.

The placenta slid from her with only minor discomfort. The infant still wailed.

“Will you take the baby out of here now?” she pleaded.

“We still have to wait for the water to wash the blood off of the little fellow.”

“Blood!” she gasped and automatically turned to the baby.

“It’s not his blood, Mrs. Drayton,” the doctor reassured her. “No, he’s a fine, healthy boy.”

Now Corinne couldn’t tear her eyes away. She had given this small person life! She had suffered for it, gone through the most excruciating pain imaginable so that it might live. A little boy!

“He’s terribly ugly, isn’t he?” Corinne couldn’t help asking.

Dr. Bryson laughed heartily. “That’s the first honest
opinion I’ve ever gotten from a new mother. But I guarantee he will look better once he’s cleaned up.”

“Why won’t he stop crying?”

“He has just been taken from his nice, warm, nourishing home of the last nine months. He is understandably upset about that and could use some comforting.”

“I—I don’t—”

“All he needs is your breast, Mrs. Drayton.”

“I couldn’t!” she said quickly.

“Well, that’s up to you. I suppose it won’t hurt to let him cry for a while. I’ll just go and see what is keeping that water.”

“Wait!”

But Dr. Bryson closed the door firmly. He found Florence in the kitchen sitting at the table over a half glass of whiskey.

“Do you have an extra glass?” he asked.

Florence looked up at him worriedly, almost afraid to ask the question. “Did it work?”

“I can’t tell yet. We’ll give her a little while, but then I’ve got to clean that baby. I don’t hold with not bathing them immediately.”

Florence got up for another glass and filled it. “Lord, I pray I did the right thing. But I just couldn’t bear seeing her give the babe away. I knew she would be sorry after it was too late.”

“If I didn’t agree with you, I wouldn’t have gone through with that farce.”

“She wouldn’t listen to reason. If leaving her alone with him doesn’t do the trick, nothing will.”

“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see. Where is the father, anyway?”

“Oh, he went off to get drunk,” Florence replied, referring to Russell. “He certainly had the right idea,” she added, lifting her glass.

She had taken Dr. Bryson into her confidence, but not so far as to deny Corinne’s supposed marriage to Russell. The doctor frowned on Corinne enough as it was without making it worse by telling him the truth. And Russell Drayton wasn’t getting drunk because of nervousness. He was celebrating that it was finally over. He assumed the baby had come prematurely, and after Corinne had explained to Florence about the night the baby was conceived, Florence let him go on thinking that. The truth was that Russell never thought about the baby, and didn’t care.

Lord, Florence didn’t like that man. Russell seemed somehow different whenever Corinne wasn’t near. He was like two different men. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, exactly, that disturbed her about him.