Spoils of Eden (23 page)

“It is an ambitious choice. Then you’re certain, my dear; you want to leave all this behind and go with me and Herald to Molokai? It won’t be a simple task. There will be much sacrifice involved.”

“Father, your clinic on Molokai is important to me. Now that I know my mother is alive and wishes to meet with me—nothing will stop me or cause me to change my mind.”

“Then as far as I’m concerned, the matter is settled. Ah—is that Herald below in the yard?”

“Yes … I think it is.”

“Excuse me, my dear, I’ve a short meeting with him on the beach before dinner … can I get down by way of these steps?”

“Yes, the stairs lead to Waikiki … be careful, though, going down. Perhaps I should go with you.”

He chuckled. “No, no, your father is still quite fit, just a mild
case, now and then, of tropical fever. I’ll see you at dinner.”

The trades rustled the wooden blinds as his footsteps faded in the direction of the stairs. Rafe waited, uncertain. He felt no qualm at having overheard. Though his own future was bound up in Eden’s choices, there was such a thing as male self-preservation.

Should he step into the moment so obviously precious to her, or not? If they cared enough about each other to have once contemplated marriage, did he have the right to know where things stood?

He stepped onto the lanai and saw Eden standing there with her back toward him, looking toward the beach. The gentle breeze, the sound of the restless waves washing the shore …

She must have heard him, for she turned quickly. He read the excitement on her face. His gaze dropped to the envelope she held clasped to her heart. Their eyes met, hers green and shining in the lamplight. He read in their depths all he needed to know.

There’s nothing now that will thwart her from joining her father’s work. The letter from Rebecca is the final motivation for joining him on Kalaupapa
.

Rafe turned and walked away, choosing to honor her time of joy by not interfering. He closed the living-room door behind him without a sound.

“Rafe
,” Eden whispered and took several steps after him, then stopped, as though her legs would not respond. As the waves lapped at the shore below, she lifted the envelope away from her heart and looked at it.

T
he long, gleaming dining room table awaited the Derrington dinner guests. Ambrose did not show up.
Curious
, Eden thought. Ambrose and her father had been close friends when they’d been younger men, much like Rafe and Zachary now that the two “brothers” had moved beyond rivalries to trusting one another. Ambrose had told her that it was her father who’d first arranged for him to pastor the mission church before departing on his travels. And her father had chosen Ambrose to care for her during childhood. Why hadn’t Ambrose come tonight to welcome her father home after years of absence? Because of Noelani’s refusal to attend the dinner?

Odd
, Eden thought.

Before shed even entered the dining room, Townsend’s voice could be heard on a political rampage. “If she burns the ’87 Constitution, our rights will be trampled. We’re dead fish! Years of work and sweat to build these Islands into the success they are today will all be lost!”

She saw Townsend pacing the hall with the drama of a politician. Broad-shouldered, tanned, and dressed in white, his blond hair
streaked with gray. He wore the usual diamond stick-pin in his lapel. It was a wonder he hadn’t gambled it away, Eden thought unhappily.

Silas and Herald Hartley stood listening—Silas with a pencil and small notepad in his hands. What did Silas think of his overassertive father?

Townsend resumed. “We—the haoles—built Hawaii into what it is today. We were the men who built the schools, the hospitals, the churches.”

You mean the true missionaries did
, Eden thought.

“We established the sugar plantations and developed the trade. The Islands were nothing when we arrived in 1820. The modern notion that Hawaii was a green, tropical paradise before we arrived is a fantasy. It was a desolate, swampy wasteland. We brought in the sugarcane, just as were now bringing in the pineapples.”

We
? It was Rafe, whom he’d wanted to run out of Hawaii just a few short years ago, who had the savvy to bring in the pineapples. Suddenly she realized she was battling her uncle emotionally, working herself up into a temper and losing her spiritual perspective. She took in a deep breath and forced herself to be calm. There was little anyone could do to change Townsend.

“And now, with civilization and success all around us, are we to be robbed of our right to vote and sit on the Legislature? Not on my watch! We planters aren’t going to put up with her meddling.”

“What of the Chinese and Japanese?” Silas asked.“What if they rise up on the side of Liliuokalani? What would you do then?”

“Do? Why we’ll request Stevens to ask the U.S. Navy to land troops.”

“Mr. Stevens, the American Minister to Hawaii?” Silas asked, surprised. “Will Minister Stevens respond to your request?”

Eden came alert.
Now why is Silas asking that? It’s almost as if he’s asking a leading question to bait Townsend, hoping his too-ready tongue will say something that Silas can use in the morning headlines of the
Gazette. What had Silas boasted he knew about in the earlier meeting with Great-aunt Nora and Zachary? Hadn’t he told Great-aunt
Nora that the American Minister Stevens was a staunch proponent of annexation working behind the scenes with men like Lorrin Thurston and Ainsworth? Silas had accused Stevens of a continuous communication with the US. Secretary of State, Blaine, regarding the troubled situation in the Hawaiian Islands. That in itself was normal in a time of crisis, but Silas had claimed Minister Stevens was trying to learn from Blaine just how far the U.S. president was willing to go, should circumstances warrant the overthrow of the monarchy. “An orderly and peaceful revolution,” Silas had said with light sarcasm. And now Silas was coaxing Townsend to admit that plans were already in place for American troops to come ashore with guns. What a headline!

Silas was taking a great risk. Surely he was shrewd enough to realize that connecting Townsend’s name in the
Gazette
with a scandal would abruptly end any position of favor within the family?

“The Chinese won’t rise up. They’ve no reason to involve themselves. Their livelihood is with the planters. And if there’s any rebellion in the cane fields they’ll end up out of work and starve to death.”

“I wish you wouldn’t speak of death so lightly, Townsend,” Dr. Jerome said as he came into the hall.

Townsend brushed the remark aside. “C’mon, Jerome. There’s millions of em to spare in China.”

“Millions, yes. In need of their Creator’s forgiveness in Christ. Each one a unique individual, with hopes and tears and an eternal soul.”

“You’re off the subject,” Townsend snapped. “The planters are determined, all right. Even some of the Englishmen and Germans are riled up. What’s more,” he went on, “if Liliuokalani thinks she’s going to stack her cabinet with men in favor of tossing out the Constitution of ’87, she’ll have a war on her hands.”

“War!” Herald Hartley said, startled. “Oh, surely not, sir.”

“The Hawaiian League is talking about buying up every rifle in Honolulu just in case things blow up. Some of the monarchy supporters may try a revolution of their own to end the ’87 Constitution.
I already have rifles and ammunition stashed away. If we need to teach them a few lessons, we will!”

“Can I quote you on that, sir?” Silas asked his father, with pencil and pad in hand.

“No,” came a calm but firm voice. “You may not.”

They turned. Ainsworth stood there, having come from the library. Tall and straight as a pillar, he fixed his cool blue eyes on Silas.

Silas looked like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I don’t think it wise or conducive to Hawaii’s present circumstances to have your father on the front page of Nora’s newspaper, threatening war. Do you, Silas?”

The noticeable emphasis on
father
surely spoke a veiled warning to Silas. He was either to show loyalty, or he would find the door to the Derrington family, with all its benefits, barred to him.

“No, sir, absolutely not.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Townsend flushed heavily. As if to save face for his blundering tongue, he thrust himself back into the debate with defensive energy. “We can’t back down, Father. We don’t want a monarchy breathing down our necks.”

“Nor do we want to sound the trumpets of war.”

Ainsworth looked pointedly at the intrusive note pad in Silas’s hand, indicating that its presence was an offense at the family dinner. Silas must have come to the same understanding, along with a realization that he wouldn’t be attending a second family dinner if he hadn’t. He hastily stuffed it into his jacket. Eden thought they wouldn’t be seeing Silas acting the nosey journalist again anytime soon, if ever.

“Well, shall we all go in for dinner?” Ainsworth suggested, glancing around. “Where’s Rafe?”

“He’s coming now, with Celestine.” Candace, with her New England brittleness, came briskly into the room. She walked up beside
her grandfather. He seemed especially considerate tonight of his favorite “firstborn” granddaughter, knowing her objections to marrying Hunnewell. Eden didn’t think Candace had stood up for Keno yet, but she would. Oh, yes, she would!

Celestine arrived a moment later on the arm of her son, Rafe Easton, looking gracious in a simple evening dress with a crimson flower corsage. Eden had worried that there might be a mark on Celestine’s face from Townsend’s vile temper. She was relieved to see there was none. Either some feminine cosmetic had concealed a bruise, or it hadn’t yet developed. Eden was upset over Townsend’s presence at dinner, apparently more so than Celestine, for she showed no anxiety, and oddly enough, there was an excitement in her eyes. She hardly appeared mindful of Townsend.
Strange
, Eden thought,
am I imagining all this?

Eden avoided looking at Rafe when at all possible, so handsome was he in his white dinner jacket, the only style for Hawaii. For his part, he ignored her. She had no right to be offended by his action, but she was. The engagement ring on her finger was a charade after the emotional drama that had occurred between them less than half an hour ago on the lanai.

Did Rafe think the dilemma between them was easy on her? Did he believe her to be playing the silly heartless creature who enjoyed controlling a man’s emotions?
He should know me better than that
, she thought, despondent.
I should go back upstairs, change into my nursing uniform, and return to Kea Lani
.

But since her father was guest of honor, how could she leave?

Ah, yes, for your father you’ll do anything
, she could hear Rafe saying with a sting in his voice.
Always for your father. Yet when was he ever there for you? When we were growing up, who was it that came to your aid, time and time again?

And of course, Rafe had always been there for her, even defending her against Zachary’s melancholy moods and ardent missteps.

Eden entered the large dining room on the arm of her father. Even while her heart beat with excitement over the medical future
she would have with Dr. Jerome on Molokai, she felt miserable over Rafe.

That Silas had remained for dinner suggested that his meeting with Grandfather Ainsworth, arranged by Great-aunt Nora, had gone better than expected. Eden was still hoping that Silas would find a place of acceptance at the proverbial family altar.

Who was the man in the book of Judges who’d been illegitimate, rejected by all his half-brothers, and barred from his family inheritance? Then, in the end, due to affliction by Israel’s enemies in the land, they had sought him out to be their judge and to lead their army?

She pondered, trying to recall his name.

Zachary entered late, mumbling an apology as he took his chair beside Candace. His unfriendly mood also told Eden that yes, Silas was now accepted by the family patriarch.

“Jephthah,” Eden said softly to herself, satisfied.

Her father leaned toward her. “You were saying, my dear?”

She smiled and whispered, “Jephthah. In the book of Judges.”

He thought for a moment, then gave a nod and appeared to follow her thinking, for he looked at Silas, who looked subdued. He’d had his wings clipped tonight, but his eyes were alive, and he seemed content.

“Silas needs our prayers,” Jerome told her in a low voice. “He and Zachary, both. Two brothers at odds are not good, or maybe I should say three brothers?”

Eden followed his gaze to Rafe, who was just then studying Silas with a pensive gaze.

“Now, what was the history on Jephthah—ah, yes,” Jerome said. “I remember. In the end he made his family eat humble pie, did he not? He made a rash vow to God, however, the result being that his daughter would never marry. A tragedy in those days.”

Eden wondered if there was a message for her as well as Silas in the history of Jephthah.
Am I going to Molokai to serve Christ? Myself? Or my Father? Whatever you do, do heartily unto the Lord and not unto men
. Meaning not for men alone, but to bring ultimate
praise and honor to the One whose name alone was Good and Holy.

Search my heart, oh God. Lead me in the way I should go. You know I love Rafe, and I don’t want to hurt him. You also know I feel drawn to Molokai
…

But, who or what was wooing her? God? Or a strong conviction born of a need, or a quest? Was it
God’s
quest?