Treasure of the Golden Cheetah (3 page)

“Do you think Nairobi will adopt the daylight savings plan?” The voice came from Jade’s left elbow. She turned and found herself face-to-forehead with a round, stumpy man with thinning brown hair and a very white scalp. The line across his brow, white above, russet below, marked where his hat usually sat.

“I have no idea, Mr. Eagan. To be honest, it’s stupid. Nairobi’s nearly on the equator. The days don’t change any more than thirty minutes in a year. Why do you need to save daylight?” The moment she asked what was supposed to be a rhetorical question, Jade regretted it. The postmaster had every intention of explaining his views on the subject.

“I should think it obvious, miss. There is simply not enough time for the local lads to get to their clubs after work and get in any practice for the Saturday meets. Why, our gymkhana—”

“Excuse me, Mr. Eagan, but there’s someone waving frantically at me.” Jade slipped away and made a beeline for Beverly, who stood just inside the doorway leaning on her husband’s arm. Despite her August delivery, Beverly looked as slender and lovely as ever in her newest gown, a soft butter-cream yellow crepe with mother-of-pearl bangles. Jade, still depressed after her argument with Sam, was glad for a friendly face.

“I began to think you weren’t going to leave the baby after all,” said Jade. “Was there a problem?” She knew they’d recently engaged not only a widow lady to act as nanny, but also a girl from the Seychelles as a maid. But neither had been with the Dunburys for very long.

“Not at all, Jade,” said Avery. “Mrs. Armstrong and Shilangi have everything well in hand. It was Beverly’s gown that caused all the delays.” He chuckled softly as he eyed his wife.

Jade studied her friend’s dress. As usual, Beverly wore the latest fashion. “It looks fine.”

“
Now
it does,” said Beverly. “Before, you could have put two loaves of bread in the bodice with me. I have no idea why the dressmaker thought I was built like a howitzer. I sent her my, er, dimensions.” She put a hand to her chest just above the bosom as if to make certain that nothing was exposed.

Jade laughed, her low voice rippling. She touched her own apricot-colored dress, which Beverly had given to her just after the war. “If you didn’t get a new dress every time the wind blew, you wouldn’t have that problem, Bev.”

Beverly opened her mouth to make a retort when their friend Madeline joined them. Beverly embraced her and exclaimed over the farm wife’s new blue gown. “Maddy, you look divine! I didn’t get to see you before you and Neville left our house.”

“Thank you,” said Madeline. “I know it’s off the rack but it’s the first new gown I’ve had in years. And thank you again for letting us leave little Cyril at your house for the evening,” she added, referring to their recently adopted son.

“He’s beautiful, Maddy,” said Beverly. “You deserve each other. And you deserve this dress, too. You’re becoming quite the celebrity. Two books in print! Now if we could just get our Jade to put on something respectably modern . . . Don’t you agree, Avery, darling?”

Avery slipped his wife’s hand from his arm and kissed her fingertips. “You are
all
lovely, but I refuse to discuss what Jade should or should not do with her gowns. It’s too dangerous. I believe there’s a law barring decorated war veterans from any other hazardous combat. If not, I shall propose one.” He bowed to the three women. “I shall visit with Neville instead, if you will excuse me.”

“He’s by the canapé table,” said Madeline. She giggled and nudged Jade. “Simba Jike is still to be feared, it seems. By the by,” she added, looking around, “where’s Sam?”

Jade’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “I don’t think he’s coming.”

“What?” exclaimed Beverly and Madeline at once.

“Did you two have a row?” Bev asked.

Jade shrugged.

Beverly grabbed Jade’s left hand and held it up. “You
still
aren’t wearing his ring?”

Jade shook her head.

“But he proposed back in July,” said Madeline.

“Are you going to tell us or must I beat it out of you?” demanded Beverly when Jade didn’t comment.

“I really don’t care to discuss this here in the blasted Muthaiga Club,” said Jade. “But he hasn’t abandoned me, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’re just . . .”—she paused and considered the right word—“thinking.”

Beverly snorted. “Thinking? My aunt Wilhemina’s bustle! You don’t
think
about a man’s marriage proposal. You accept it or you don’t. It’s not a call for some ruddy parliamentary session or whatever you have in the States.” She put her head down, as though instantly regretting her words. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I had such hopes.”

Madeline, never willing to voice her opinion as strongly as Beverly, settled for patting Jade’s hand.

“Oh, stop it, you two.” Jade jerked her hand away. “Anyway, Sam dislikes the Muthaiga as much as I do. The difference is, he doesn’t
have
to be here and I do.”

Beverly cocked her head and pursed her lips. “That’s what the row was about, wasn’t it? Your newest job.”

“I don’t understand,” said Madeline. “You’re merely helping as second in command on a safari. It’s not even a hunting safari, so you should be perfectly safe. You’re going to Kilimanjaro, aren’t you?”

Jade nodded. The “row,” as Beverly termed it, was less about her job and more about what Sam called her recklessness, but she didn’t care to discuss it with anyone, including Beverly, who would only take Sam’s side.

“I’ll talk to him, if you like, and tell him that he has no reason to be worried,” said Beverly.

“Don’t,” said Jade.

“But Bror Blixen has led many safaris,” continued Bev. “He’s one of the best. To be honest, I was surprised that he was hiring
anyone
to be a second to him. I presumed you were to be a sort of chaperone.”

Jade looked away and pursed her lips. “You’re partly correct.” Jade took a deep breath. “I
was
hired to take care of the women and their supplies.”

“But . . . ?” prompted Beverly, her slippered foot tapping with impatience.

“But Blixen’s not in charge. Harry Hascombe is.”

Madeline gasped, and Beverly muttered, “Blast.”

“I suppose you could still back out of the job,” suggested Madeline.

“No,” said Jade.

“But . . .”

“No!”

Jade had no intention of breaking her contract with Newland Tarlton Company to help lead the troop of movie actors from California. This venture to Kilimanjaro would pay her twice: once as a salaried expedition leader, and a second time when she sold an article and photos to her magazine.
The Traveler
would expect her next article in another two months, but it took money to get away from Nairobi and all its silliness to find something fresh to write about.

When she was first offered the safari position, she was assured that Baron Bror Blixen was in command. Of course, that changed quickly once she’d signed the contract. Suspiciously quickly. Somehow, Jade suspected that Harry had been in charge all along and had suggested the deception lest she turn down the offer. Sam agreed, and part of their argument last week had grown from there. Jade heard it all again, recalling it word for word.

“I think you should tell Newland Tarlton to take their contract and stuff it where the sun doesn’t shine,” Sam had said after learning about the change in leadership.

Jade had been riled herself, but once Sam started in on Hascombe being a no-good, lying sidewinder, she immediately tempered her own feelings. “There’s no cause for me to quit, Sam. Blixen has a worse reputation with women, and you didn’t object to my going with him.”

“Actually I did, but I don’t trust Hascombe at all. I saw that photograph of you that he carried on Marsabit. He wants you, and out there, alone with him . . .”

“I’m hardly going to be alone with him, Sam. You’re going to have to trust
me
or we can’t have any kind of future. I can handle Harry
and
myself. When you talk this way, I feel like you’re trying to break me.”

“I don’t intend to break you, Jade,” argued Sam. “I wouldn’t want to. I love your spirit of adventure. I just want you to temper it a little.”

“Temper it,” she repeated.

“Right. No more stupid stunts like last July, when you were the leopard bait.”

Jade didn’t want to be leopard bait any more than Sam wanted her to, but she wanted it to be her choice, not his. “That’s what I mean,” she countered. “It starts there and the next thing you know, I’m wearing a saddle and tack. Probably where the term ‘bridal’ came from. Someone misspelled ‘bridle.’ ”

The conversation had deteriorated from that point on.

“What makes you think marriage would be any easier for me?” snapped Sam. “You’ve been playing nursemaid to me ever since I had that malaria attack.” He inhaled through gritted teeth. “I’m not a cripple, you know. I’m a perfectly functioning, red-blooded American man who just happens to have an oak leg.”

“I haven’t played nursemaid,” she retorted.

“Ha! Every time I see you, you’re either trying to shove quinine down my gullet or wrap me up in mosquito netting.”

And so they’d left it, each one unsure of the other and of themselves. In the end, after tempers had cooled, they’d both apologized. Sam told Jade to keep the ring. He planned to stay on in Africa for a while at least, helping Neville design and build their new coffee washer. Eventually, he needed to return to the States to sell his movie, but it wouldn’t be for several weeks.

Jade didn’t ask what he’d do if she hadn’t decided on his proposal by then. Would he come back to Africa after his trip to the States? After today’s argument, she wasn’t so confident anymore. Her confusion left her feeling nervous and sullen. Her indecision didn’t stem from a question of love. She cared more deeply for Sam than she had for any man. But she wanted to bolt like an unbroken mustang for the open range every time the subject of marriage came up. She’d explained that the day he proposed. But when she’d handed the beautiful sapphire ring back to him, he’d told her to keep it and think about it. She had. And after today, when Sam stormed off without letting her defend her actions, she worried that
he
was having second thoughts. The fact that it bothered her confused her even more.

“Jade? Jade!”

“Beg your pardon, Maddy. I was daydreaming.”

“I want to meet the motion picture director and give him a copy of my latest book.” She patted her swollen handbag, larger than the usual evening bag ladies carried to parties.

“You brought a copy of
Ivory Blood
?” asked Jade.

“Clever girl,” said Beverly. “Sam should be here to sell
his
motion picture to them.”

As if he’d heard her suggestion, Sam entered the ballroom just then, looking particularly handsome in his white tie and black dinner jacket. He saw them and pushed his way across the crowded room to their side. Jade’s heart raced.

“Good evening, Jade, Maddy, Beverly.” He nodded to each in turn. With each slight bow he made, a mop of his brown hair fell over one eye. He brushed it back. “You’re probably surprised to see me here.”

“But so delighted,” said Beverly before Jade had a chance to reply. “Aren’t we, Jade?”

“It’s very nice to see you, Sam,” she said. She hung back, unsure of her reception.

“I didn’t come to punch out Hascombe,” he said, in an attempt at humor. “I really did want to see you tonight, and . . .”

“You thought you could tell someone here about your motion picture,” Jade finished.

“You probably want the producer, Graham Wheeler.” She smiled. “Maddy wants to meet him or the director, too. I’ll see if I can find them.”

“Don’t bother on
my
account, Jade,” said Sam. “I looked him up earlier this afternoon. After, er, I got back from our excursion.”

Jade felt her face flush. “I’m sorry, Sam. I shouldn’t have assumed . . . Was Mr. Wheeler interested?”

“Moderately. Of course, he needs to see the picture first, and he won’t have time to view it until he returns from safari.” He studied her face in silence for a moment. “I just thought it would be nice to dance with you. But you should introduce Madeline to either Mr. Wheeler or the director first. I’ll visit with Avery and Neville until you’re free.” He made a slight bow and walked away.

Jade watched him for a while, then looked around the room at the people sampling cheese and pastries. “Rex Julian is the director. I don’t see him, but I can introduce you to Mr. Wheeler and some of the actors,” she told Madeline, and pointed to a small clump of brightly dressed women and tuxedoed men. One woman excused herself from the group and moved towards the door.

“Isn’t that Bebe Malta?” asked Beverly as a black-haired woman glided past in a pink satin gown with beaded shoulder straps. Silver lace roses graced the bodice and the lace overskirt. Her hair had been rolled up for the evening and secured with a dazzling diamond-encrusted comb.

Jade nodded. “Yes. I believe she’s supposed to have a major role in this picture.”

“What’s the picture about?” asked Madeline as they headed towards the actors.

“I don’t know,” said Jade. “I was only told there are four women in the safari and I’m in charge of them.”

“Pff,”
Beverly snorted. “Now I understand.” When the others stared at her, she elaborated. “What I mean to say is, I didn’t understand why Bror Blixen would hire a woman to take care of other women. If there’s
anything
the baron has experience with, it’s women. But we all know how
Harry’s
experience with those German women on Marsabit turned out.” She waggled her finger at Jade. “I hope you intend to open and inspect their boxes. You don’t need anyone trying to smuggle guns again.”

“I already have. Mostly a lot of costumes. I checked all the more personal female supplies yesterday.” She thought about mentioning Bebe’s bottle of black hair dye but decided against it. Jade disliked gossip. Each woman had more pots of beauty cream than she could ever recall.