Spoils of Eden (20 page)

I’ve stepped across more than one threshold this day. Were my decisions wise? Should I have put the ring back on knowing I’m being a little deceptive? Do I have the right to tell Rafe I’ll wait about Kip? Is Noelani right about Rafe? Is it possible to lose him by waiting too long to assure him of my love?

What did the Lord expect of her? Where would her decisions lead, and what consequences awaited?

“Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life
.” As she entered the room, Dr. Jerome looked over at her, and his countenance brightened. “Ah, there you are, my daughter. I was hoping to speak with you alone before dinner.”

“Of course, Father.” She responded swiftly, walking toward him.

With his arm around her shoulders, they crossed the threshold into the large room.

R
afe Easton watched Ainsworth Derrington, who stood in white, staid and dignified. With concerted precision he lowered the satchel from under his arm, leaned over the glossy hardwood table, and removed some neatly bound papers. Rafe thought him a well-disciplined man, studious, frugal, and sober. Ainsworth looked much like his missionary father, Jedaiah Derrington, with a smooth, well-clipped beard and deep-set, pale blue eyes, very slim, and of a Puritan mind-set. One large disparity separated Ainsworth from Missionary Jedaiah. While Jedaiah had been committed to teaching and establishing the gospel in the Islands, Ainsworth was committed to making his beloved Hawaii a part of the United States.

The years in the tropics had not changed Ainsworth as those same years of travel under hot sun had seeped away the health of his younger son, Jerome. Ainsworth was pleased with his work and too disciplined to grow indolent in the Hawaiian tropics. His wife had died many years ago, leaving him reasonably young, and he had never wished to marry again. His energy went instead toward sugar and the fate of the Islands.

Suddenly, the library door swung open, and Townsend burst into the room, closing the door behind him with just enough of a bang to express his frustration. His strong proportions were evident beneath the white cotton jacket and frilled shirt. In his early forties, he’d once been as handsomely golden as his son Zachary, but a dissolute lifestyle left its trademarks on his features and was reflected in his eyes.

Rafe mastered a swell of anger, but Ainsworth looked at his middle son with the steady gaze of an iceberg.

“Though I understand I’m not invited, I will be included in this meeting,” Townsend snapped. “I’ve got to report to the League tomorrow on your Washington visit.”

Rafe had become hardened to Townsend’s bullying personality since his childhood years when he’d often climbed out of his bedroom window at night to run away to his uncle Ambrose at the church bungalow. Out of respect for his mother he’d learned in his teen years to restrain his emotions when it came to his stepfather. There had been times when he’d wanted to flatten him—but one night, when alone with Ambrose in prayer, he’d vowed not to lay a fist on Townsend. It hadn’t taken long for his vow to be tested. He and Zachary had come to a showdown on Waikiki Beach over Zach’s brash treatment of Eden. Zach hadn’t believed Eden was his blood cousin and he’d grabbed her and tried to kiss her, ignoring her protests and refusing to turn her loose. Rafe had struck him down in the sand in view of Townsend, who had been driving by in a carriage. Townsend came bounding out of the carriage and across the beach to find out why his son was lying dazed, sprawled in the white sand. Zach had blamed Rafe, and nothing Eden said would convince Townsend otherwise. Townsend determined that Rafe, the bully, would be taught a lesson, and Rafe had endured the beating because of the vow he’d made while praying with Ambrose. After that, anything Townsend said was filtered through distrust in Rafe’s mind.

Though restraining physical action required discipline, Rafe had confided to Ambrose that it was just an initial struggle. The real battle was with the anger, sometimes even rage, that kept churning on the
inside. “That’s the battle I can’t handle. It wins most every time—no matter how I struggle.”

“We must realize it’s a spiritual battle,” Ambrose told him. “And it’s ongoing. You can win one day and fail the next if you’re not aware of the danger and dressed in the armor of God. It demands spiritual weapons to defeat a spiritual enemy. Victory can come, but only by applying the Word of God and having confidence in the Holy Spirit who indwells you.”

After bursting into the library, Townsend strode over to the large table, eyeing the stack of papers Ainsworth had carried into the meeting. For an awkward moment no one spoke. Rafe, showing respect for Ainsworth, turned his full attention upon him, ignoring Townsend.

“You wished to speak with me, sir?” he prodded politely.

“Yes, indeed, Rafe. I’ve some important matters to discuss with you.” Looking over at his son, he added, “Since this is a family affair and the outcome will affect all present, it’s not inappropriate that Townsend has
decided
to join us.”

Rafe might have cocked a brow at that bit of rainbow-colored sentiment.
A family affair
since when? Eden had been treated as an outsider until she’d begun to mature, and until he’d returned from his voyage with the coveted pineapple slips, he’d been fit for little except to be “run out of Honolulu.”

As Rafe considered this man who had bargained to allow him an engagement to his granddaughter Eden, he wondered what Ainsworth’s response would be when Eden told him the engagement was off?

Ainsworth’s icy blue eyes glinted in the lamplight as keenly as sunlight on the ocean swells. Rafe felt those eyes measure him anew, but they told him even less about what stirred around in his mind. If it was about Eden, he’d need to keep their secret awhile longer as promised on the stairway, no matter the personal cost. It was crucial for his own plans as well. In the end he may need to apologize to Ainsworth, but so be it.

Rafe kept his manner and words amiable, but formal and appropriate to the meeting. This was no warm social call, despite Ainsworth’s mention of a “family affair.”

“I spent some time in discourse and planning with Parker Judson while in San Francisco,” Ainsworth continued. “We had a solid meeting. I congratulated him on the wisdom of backing you in Hawaiiana, and I let it be known that if I’d been more discerning as to your abilities, I’d not have failed to recognize the initial stages of a successful venture.”

Though satisfying, the compliment made him uneasy.

Townsend began to move about restlessly. “Maybe, but Rafe could have come to us on his return and told us about those pineapples!”

“Gaining the pineapple slips was as much a stroke of good fortune as it was grit,” Rafe said to Ainsworth.

Townsend laughed shortly. “Don’t be so modest, Rafe. We know that’s hardly how it must have been.”

“It took courage, and it took ambition—the right kind, I may add.” Ainsworth glanced meaningfully at Townsend, who did not seem to notice. “You had the insight to judge where Hawaii’s success is likely to be in another decade or two. That’s what the best of us struggle to determine, and I’m not the first person in Honolulu to recognize your accomplishment, Rafe.”

“Good speech, Father,” Townsend said with a bold grin. “Just tell Rafe you’re sucking him into the whirlpool of a future Derrington-Easton conglomerate and save us all a lot of time.”

Ainsworth scolded him with his gaze. Rafe remained unreadable. The intentions of the Derringtons were well known to him.

“Hawaiiana is sure to be a success,” Ainsworth continued.

“Thank you, sir. Before I become too conceited over all this praise, there must be another reason you wanted to speak with me.”

Townsend threw back his golden head and laughed.

“Another reason other than you’re becoming my future grandson?” Ainsworth smiled faintly.

Here it comes. Keep Eden out of this as best you can
.

“There is another reason. It concerns Parker Judson,” Ainsworth continued.

Again Rafe remained quiet.
When near a precipitous ledge, move slowly
.

“Parker intends to stay on in San Francisco for some time. His sister, as you probably have heard, is incurably ill. She may not live much longer. The daughter, Parker’s niece, I forget her name—”

“Bunny Judson.”

“Yes, that was it, unusual name—she’s taking the news with great difficulty, as one might expect. She was close to her mother, I understand. Parker wants to stay and help them through this ordeal, so he may be away from Honolulu for a year or more.”

“Very commendable.” However tragic the death of the mother may be for the Judson family, Rafe wondered what the matter had to do with him. Judson kept in contact with him by telegraph and mail, and Rafe wrote monthly reports on Hawaiiana’s progress and expenses.

“You were the main topic in our meeting,” Ainsworth went on. “Parker and I decided to settle the big question. Where each of us stood on ownership of Easton land in Hawaii, and when to return it to the heir.”

For the first time Rafe was taken off guard. This was the last topic he could have imagined Ainsworth willingly discussing.

Townsend also appeared stunned. His gaze darted between Rafe and Ainsworth. “What’s this?” he demanded. “What do you mean about Easton land returning to the heir? Are you referring to Celestine’s property? That will be a snowy day in Honolulu! Why wasn’t I consulted on this? What’s been going on in San Francisco behind my back? I’m the one to handle Celestine’s property. She’s
my
wife!”

“Keep quiet, Townsend,” Ainsworth said coldly. “One might argue those points in court. And as for Celestine, you’ve forgotten you even have a wife.” He turned his gaze back to Rafe.

Ainsworth’s stern rebuke mollified Rafe’s anger.
Better he should
say it than I. I’d take it a mile too far
.

“Rather than waiting for Hawaiianas pineapples to become successful in the market, Parker agrees that he should return the Kona coffee plantation to you immediately. What’s more, it will be returned debt free.”

His words might as well have been dynamite. Rafe hardly trusted himself to speak.

The return of Hanalei? Now?

Debt free?

When the dust finally settled, it was Townsend who reacted—by exploding in rage. He slammed his big fist on the table with such ferocity the lamp danced.

“Over my dead body! What the devil is all this about? I won’t have it! Do you hear me?”

“The whole island can hear you. You have nothing to say about this. It will be up to Rafe whether we follow through.”

Townsend froze in shock.

Rafe centered his gaze on Ainsworth. “Id think this was a gambit on your part, sir. Except I know you to be a gentleman of sobriety.”

“I assure you, Rafe, the details, with the exception of some papers needing Celestine’s signature—and yours—are in order. The lawyers, Parker’s and mine, will attend to that in Honolulu in the next several days. Naturally, you’d be wise to hire a lawyer of your own. You can soon be overseeing your Kona plantation, though you shall be a busy man. Parker wouldn’t permit the possibility of finding a replacement for you here on the pineapple plantation.”

It sounded genuine enough. Still, Rafe was reluctant to permit his emotions to seize the prize he’d purposed to regain since his father was killed at Hanalei—and
not by a mere accident
, as he’d said to Keno in the bungalow.

“Parker Judson is a business baron.” Rafe spoke bluntly this time. “What cause does he have to sign over the deed to Hanalei before I’m producing pineapples by the shipload?”

Rafe’s suspicion did not appear to disturb Ainsworth. He removed an official white envelope from the papers on the table. He tapped it against his palm. The crisp blue eyes glittered. “I prefer to call the return of Hanalei a just repayment of what rightfully belonged to Matt Easton, and to his son, in the first place. Hanalei belongs to you. This is the bill of sale.”

“You can’t do that!” Townsend nearly croaked. His eyes blazed. “I leased that plantation to Parker under the condition it would revert back to me, should he decide to get out.”

“And if you could produce the finances to cover its debts,” Ainsworth said in a quiet voice. “The matter of Hanalei is out of your hands now. The lawyers who handle our contractual agreements have been through the details with a fine-tooth comb.”

Townsend’s face turned ashen. He lowered himself into a leather chair that squeaked beneath his frame. His fingers curled about the arms like bird claws.

Rafe wondered, could Ainsworth’s offer of Hanalei possibly be as straightforward as he had presented it? There had to be something valuable to both parties involved.

“You say Hanalei is debt free, but what of Townsend’s gambling debts? He used Hanalei as collateral.”

“Now just you wait a minute—” Townsend growled, springing up from the chair. “I poured good, honest money into Hanalei. It was Derrington money that built the new high mountain road. It took a year under my supervision.”

“The incurred debt is paid,” Ainsworth announced, sober faced.

Even Townsend ceased growling to stare at his father. “Paid? Paid in full? And yet you wouldn’t loan me from my rightful inheritance to have paid that same debt? Had you done so, there would’ve been no need to lease the Kona property to Parker to begin with.”

“How many times have you borrowed against your inheritance, Townsend?” Ainsworth asked calmly.

“What’s that to do with it?”

“If you can’t understand my serious concerns for the future
management of the Derrington enterprise, then explaining is a waste of time. Between your weaknesses for gambling and women, and Zachary’s lack of management ability, is it any wonder I’ve decided to include Silas in the family? It may be that Silas will prove himself the leader I need.”

Townsend, who’d been pacing like an angry tiger, stopped and looked at his father, speechless. “What did you say?”

“You heard what I said, Townsend. Will it help if I repeat it?”