Spoils of Eden (38 page)

“You’ll soon see why, when you get your first glimpse of what your future husband owns,” Zachary said with a wry tone.

Zachary flicked the reins. The horse quickened its jaunty trot down the shore road from Kealakekua toward Captain Cook, Keei, and Honaunau.

The shore road had very old coconut trees lining its route and their tops were swaying in the wind. Eden glimpsed large houses, here and there, set back among the palms, some with ornate gates and long driveways. Always, there were flowers, frangipani, pink, orange, and yellow plumeria, pink and cream hibiscus, and heady gardenia.

Toward the sea, the morning brightness lingered above the horizon as heavy clouds gathered like gigantic billowing dragons above the sea, their cheeks puffed and rimmed with silvery gray. The humid wind blew against Eden’s face, shook her dark hair, and ruffled her white cotton dress that she’d changed into at the hotel before starting out.

Soon the road climbed higher. From Eden’s mental deductions they were somewhere on the western backside slope of Mauna Loa volcanic range, with the sea behind them like a placid, blue jewel amid a setting of lavish green.

Ahead, the robust color of the mountain announced: “Kona coffee country.”

The air was tepid, the sunlight shining through a rainbow-like mist, making sparkles of predominantly amethyst and ruby. She felt
the misty rain on her face but enjoyed it. She laughed at Zachary, who hunched his shoulders and lowered his hat. Somehow the intoxicating tropical atmosphere made her wish she was sharing it with Rafe.

“Rains every afternoon,” he said.

Zachary told her that the acreage of Hanalei, the largest coffee-growing estate on the Kona Coast, was farther up the gradual slopes, while the mansion, or Great House as it was sometimes called, was closer to the village of Honaunau, near the beach, and built on an incline so that its windows and lanais overlooked the ocean.

When at last Zachary slowed the buggy on the narrow road clustered with palm, banana, and monkey pod trees, Eden was not disappointed. She caught her breath.

Zachary turned the horse onto a second avenue and they stopped before a pair of black lava stone gateposts. Eden’s eyes fastened on the bold name:

Easton’s Hanalei

Zachary said with malicious amusement, “Shall I go back to Tamarind House and tell Uncle Jerome you won’t be going to Leper Island to bandage sores and help bury the dead?”

Eden swatted his shoulder, then turned back and stared.

“Oh,” was all she could say. “Isn’t it splendid?”

“I told you it was. Now you know why Townsend’s fought like a starving rat to keep his prey.”

“You shouldn’t speak of your father in that way.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t.”

“Oh, don’t spoil this moment by talking about Uncle,” she whispered. “This is Easton land. All the hard work and planning of Matt Easton and now Rafe.”

“Anything you say, Cousin.” He followed the carriageway for some distance to the front of the Great House.

Where was Rafe? She hoped to see him at once, not just to discuss Zachary’s concerns, which they had debated on the boat as
they’d come here to the big island of Hawaii, but about all of the other questions, including Kip, Ling, and the printing press.

For a minute she sat, drinking it all in, imagining Rafe as a child before his father died, before Celestine had erred in marrying Townsend Derrington from Oahu.

Eden stepped down onto the grass and stood looking up at the mansion. On the breeze she could whiff the exotic aroma of the waxy gardenia. What would Rafe do when he learned she was here?

Was Kip inside, happily planted in the nursery with Celestine at hand?

“Look here, Eden,” Zachary said. “I doubt Rafe is in the house. Knowing him, he’s out working with Keno. Why don’t I find out? I do know there’s a smaller house toward the hills, because when I came here with Townsend some years ago, that’s where he’d bring me. He’d meet with the manager and check on things.”

Eden’s eyes thanked him silently.

Zachary jogged to the front door and used the bell chimes. A minute later the door opened and a Hawaiian in white spoke to Zachary. Zachary motioned toward Eden, and the serving man smiled and nodded, then pointed in the distance. Zachary jogged back to her.

“He says Makua Rafe is out riding his horse. He’ll be coming back to the house any time now, because there’s the feel of a storm in the wind. Take the buggy, and go meet him. He’ll have a surprise when he sees you. I’ll go find Keno. He’s around back somewhere.”

Eden climbed back into the buggy. Once on the seat, she flicked the reins, and the horse started down a secondary lane, lined with young macadamia trees. Someone was shouting from behind her, and she pulled over, looking back. A young Hawaiian boy came running up, smiling.

“Wahine looking for Makua Rafe?”

“Yes, do you know where is he?”

He nodded vigorously, but pointing at the buggy, he shook his head. “Path is too skinny to drive buggy.” She could take the buggy
if she wanted to travel the route used by the donkey wagons that brought the coffee cherries down from the mountain, he said.

“But Makua Rafe will come by the skinny path, not donkey road. I bring you a horse?”

She glanced toward the horizon, where billowing clouds churned restlessly, then told herself there was plenty of time to find and talk to Rafe. “How long to bring me a saddled horse?”

He snapped his fingers and ran off. Where the boy had the horse, she couldn’t imagine, for within a few minutes he was back, leading a fine golden horse with a white mane, recently brushed. He put a hand over his mouth to hide a smile as he glanced back over his shoulder.

Now what was this about? “Is he safe?”

He sobered. “Very, verrrry safe!”

She climbed down from the buggy, ignoring her long dress. The boy held the reins as if she were a princess, while she stepped on the stirrup and mounted the saddle. After arranging her skirts, she took the reins. He was friendly enough and more than anxious to tell her which way to ride.

“Wahine be there in ten minutes. Remember, that way!” He pointed for emphasis. “That way.”

Eden turned the horses reins and looked down at him gravely. “If I find this is a prank, young man, I shall return and give you a switching myself.”

He smiled and placed his hand against his heart. “Jesus keep your way safe, Wahine.”

She smiled warmly and his eyes twinkled at her pleasure. “I see, I misjudged you.” She turned and rode away, handling the horse with expertise.

E
den’s busy gaze took in snow-clad mountains with high peaks and volcanoes that could spew fire. The lush vegetation, the rainfall that made the white and purple-black orchids bloom, the cattle ranches and coffee plantations, all of this and more described the Big Island—Hawaii—the island from where Kamehameha the Great had gone forth to conquer the other independent island kingdoms around him and to form one kingdom, his own, that he named after his island homeland, Hawaii.

The earth was red in some places, with ebony sand covering large areas. Eden had not ridden far when thudding hoofs sounded behind her. She slowed her horse and looked over her shoulder. Rafe, astride an auburn-brown stallion with white hoofs rode up beside her. Rugged and good-looking as ever in hat and jacket, his lively dark eyes challenged her.

“I was riding back to the house when I saw you leaving in the buggy. I caught up with Zach. He said you were looking for me. Something about a magnitude of questions you want me to answer. I need to warn you though, I’ve a few of my own to ask.”

“Who was the boy suppressing laughter when he brought me the horse? And such a wonderful horse!”

“He is. Zach will be jealous over this one. The boy is Koko. I sent him to hail you, so we could ride the paths together without Zach as chaperone. At any rate these paths are too narrow for the buggy.”

“So that was Koko. I wondered what he thought was amusing.”

“He was amused over my reaction to the arrival of such a stunning girl. That I would arrange to waylay you on the path will bring no end of laughter. They call me stone heart around here. I have to protect myself from all their sisters.”

“Indeed. Well, there’s nothing like conceit.” But she smiled, letting him know she knew he was most likely accurate, though telling her was just his way of goading her supposed lukewarm feelings toward him.

“Is this one of your many questions,” he asked smoothly, “or do you have more dangerous ones?”

She picked up his veiled reference to Kip. “First, I want to tell you how pleased I am that you’ve regained Hanalei. Finally, an injustice has been made right.” She looked around. “Rafe, you never told me it was this wonderful.”

“Yes, Zach just told me you’d have married me a year ago if I’d shown you Hanalei.”

“Oh, he’s dreadful, sometimes.” She felt the warmth rise to her cheeks. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you around Honolulu.”

She looked across at him and saw the spark in his energetic dark eyes. He smiled, still goading. “Does this earth-shattering admission in any way suggest you’ve missed me?”

She played along innocently. “Oh, yes, Rafe. Amid twelve-hour days and nights at smelly Rat Alley, problems mounting for every conceivable member of the family, from Zachary’s suspicions, to Silas, Candace, Townsend, and Nora—yes, I did miss the long talks we had walking on Waikiki.”

“Zach’s suspicions may not all be that far off. But let’s not get into that just yet. For the moment I’ll bask in the fact that I’ve won
the competition over such miserable circumstances as Rat Alley. Though I’d think walking the white sands of Waikiki under the Hawaiian moon might evoke more interesting things than long talks about Jerome’s clinic.”

“And then, there is Ling.”

“Ah, yes, Ling. He’s here, by the way. He’s decided Kona coffee beans are more interesting than Derrington sugarcane, especially with Townsend stalking him. Townsend, that amiable bully of one and all. I’m anxious to meet Townsend again. Preferably alone. I want the details on how the fire started in Ling’s hut with you, among others, inside. I fear I’ll need to go to Ambrose afterward and tell him I’ve broken a vow.”

His disarming countenance changed to such determined hardness that she held her breath. “What vow?” she asked cautiously.

He smiled unexpectedly. “That’s not for this pleasant interlude. I won’t complain about your ponderous list of questions, either. I’ve every intention of answering them, if I can. Shall we talk as we ride?”

Eden glanced around her to the mountain slope, then down toward the sea, taking in much of the estate. Her eyes came back to his. He’d been watching her. She smiled. His brow lifted.

“Yes, let’s ride. I want to learn a little about your prized coffee.”

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as though he were considering a certain course of action and whether or not he should risk it.

She looked away.

“If that’s what you want,” he said silkily.

“Yes, anything you suggest.”

“You’re very congenial all of a sudden.” He turned the reins and gestured to the path they would take.

Eden ignored his light remark and turned her horse to ride along. Together they moved off down the path.

“Let’s not talk clinic now,” she said with a smile. “Let’s talk coffee.”

He turned his dark head, and his eyes held hers a moment. “I’m always obliging. Ask away.”

Eden looked around at the greens of high distant cliffs contrasted with dark boulders streaked with garnet and mauve. On the slopes she saw the myriads of coffee trees. “Well … what are those workers doing now?”

He followed the direction she was pointing.

She was aware that the brick wall between them had again crumbled. She sensed their emotions touched, unwillingly at first, but once the contact was made, Rafe was once again reachable.

“My father got hold of some of the finest coffee-growing soil on the west Kona coast. A limited, choice land strip extending from the villages of Holualoa to Honaunau. Because of the ideal climate on the mountain slopes of the Hualalai and Mauna Loa volcanoes, it grows the best coffee.”

“You can’t grow Kona coffee on lower elevations?”

“The name ‘Kona’ applies only to coffee beans grown in north and south Kona. The beans produce the best flavor on trees and bushes between eight hundred- and two hundred-foot elevations on the volcanoes.”

Eden thought she could understand why as she gazed about her. The tropical sun-drenched mornings, the humid rainy afternoons, the mild nights, all made ideal growing conditions for the trees, and also for other exotic plants, as well. She could see many other fruit and nut trees flourishing, including some nut trees from Australia.

“Like most everything else on the Islands, this nut was brought here to the Big Island a decade ago, by seed. The nuts haven’t made a real name yet, commercially, but they will eventually.”

“Are they as good as, say, walnuts?”

Rafe smiled. “Roasted and salted, these macadamias will become the king of nuts.”

After they had exhausted what could be seen by horseback, Rafe stopped beneath some trees. Eden heard a mild roaring sound and turned to look at him with pleasure.

“A waterfall. Can we reach it on foot?”

“Yes, but you’ll need to climb down a mountain path to see it.
Are you up to it?” He looked at the shoes she was wearing. “Not very substantial.”

“I’ll take them off. Let’s see it, Rafe; it will be such a splendid sight.”

He came around to assist her down from the saddle, and they started on the path.

The afternoon was filled with shadows by the time they reached the side of the cliff where he told her there was a hidden lagoon below, a natural offspring from the waterfall.

“There’s a pearl bed there,” he told her, explaining how Matt Easton and his original partner from Tahiti had transported the original black-lipped oysters to the quiet lagoon. “It’s been a secret. Not even Townsend knew of this one. If he had known, he would have cleaned it out long ago for his gambling debts. I learned recently that Rebecca’s black pearls came from here.”