Hawaiian Crosswinds Read online

  Eden left the front of Central Union and walked forward across the green to where some palm trees stood straight and undisturbed by last night’s windstorm.

  “The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree,” she quoted Psalm 92:12.

  “Despite the badgering windstorm of last night, these palms remain unbent. Nor will I be uprooted or broken in two by the trials of life, but depend even more on the strength and protection of the gracious Lord.” She had prayed much about this meeting with Rafe and believed the Lord wanted her to confide in the man she loved and expected—hoped?—to marry next year. Marriage was built on truth, trust, and forgiveness. Eden remembered Noelani saying to her once, “You have to have plenty of all three to keep a strong and congenial marriage. If you start hiding things from each other it won’t be long before the Devil’s also convinced you it’s okay to lie too.”

  She looked up the street, hearing the smart clop of horses’ hooves, and recognizing a fine carriage from the Royal Hawaiian Hotel approaching. The driver drew up to the edge of Beretania Street.

  Eden watched as Rafe Easton opened the door and stepped down, telling the driver to wait. He looked across the lawn and saw her.

  Eden walked forward to meet him.

  Chapter Nine

  Can Two Walk Together Unless Agreed?

  Rafe Easton walked forward and Eden went to meet him. The way he looked at her from across the street suggested he liked her appearance. Of course, this was why she had taken such pains to look her best, though tired from last night’s work at Kalihi. Relieved, she hurried toward him.

  He wore a spotless white shirt, a handsome jacket with brass buttons that reminded her of a naval jacket, and matching trousers. She could feel her face flush upon seeing him.

  “Rafe!” She reached a hand toward him.

  The inevitable dark brow lifted. “What a pleasant invitation.” He took her hand between his warm, strong ones and her heart sang again.

  “I accept, gladly.” He drew her toward him in a firm grasp. Cupping her chin, and ignoring everything going on around them, he planted a brief kiss—not on her lips, but her forehead.

  “Disappointed?” His eyes teased.

  “You ought to be ashamed to ask.”

  “I’m not.” His smile was disarming. “A proper kiss is an art.”

  “Really, Rafe!” she said with a little laugh. She stepped back, fixed her tilted hat, and cast a hurried glance over her shoulder toward the church, wondering if anyone had noticed. The luncheon crowd was assembling, full of pleasant conversation, smiles, and alohas.

  “You’re a bit late,” she said with contrived severity as she waited for her cheeks to cool. He was not late, but she said so because it made good cover.

  “All right, my sweet, I have dropped everything to come at your beck and call.”

  “I believe it’s the other way around.”

  “I admit I wouldn’t come running for just any woman. Well … except, maybe, Bunny.”

  There was the faint mischievous look in his eyes again. She should have been warned by it, but responded too quickly.

  “Bunny. Such a silly name for a grown woman.”

  “What! You mean to tell me you don’t think it’s, well, ‘rather cute’? Zach does.”

  “Bernice sounds much more sensible,” she said stiffly. “I don’t know her well. She gave me a cold shoulder when she was here that Christmas. Probably because she was flirting with everyone from Oliver and Zachary to—you.” She stopped, noticing the glimmer deepen to satisfied amusement. Why, he was deliberately provoking her!

  “I’ve always heard a rose by any other name …” he began too smoothly.

  She folded her arms, eyeing him.

  “We have, I believe,” she said loftily, “something more important to discuss than Bunny.”

  He smiled. “I’m delighted you see it that way. You don’t want to talk here, do you? There’s not enough privacy—or did you expect to go to the church luncheon?”

  “Let’s go somewhere else and have something to eat.” Eden was not a bit hungry, but presumed that he would be since he had attended a meeting at the Legislature that morning. And the fewer people about when she unveiled her story, the better.

  She had dropped her hat in a gust of wind. Rafe snatched it before it blew away and settled it gently on her head. “We’ve a choice: lunch at the Royal Hawaiian, or one of the other hotels.”

  She didn’t want to go to such a public place. “Do you still have Hawaiiana open?” she asked, thinking of the Great House. Actually, Eden had a good reason for wishing to go there rather than dine at one of the fancy hotels, though normally she’d have opted for the Royal Hawaiian.

  Mention of the pineapple plantation caught Rafe’s attention. “The house? It’s open. Keno is staying there in my absence. He’s the best man I could possibly have managing the pineapples for me right now, and I can trust him explicitly. He’s living in one of the first-floor rooms. Noelani comes over in the afternoons and helps take care of his needs.”

  The Great House would have been Eden’s now to enjoy if they’d married two months ago as first planned. Whether they would live there in the future remained unsettled. Now that Rafe had control of Hanalei, it appeared as if the stately plantation in Kona country was his priority. She wasn’t sure which plantation she preferred, though Hanalei had impressed her with its matchless view and its Easton family history, and because it meant so much to Rafe. Once her term on Molokai was finished she could be happy anywhere with him, as she’d told him already.

  “Let’s go to Hawaiiana,” she said.

  He gave her a slanted look, a trifle surprised by her choice. “Hawaiiana it is, then, but do you mind telling me why you wish to go there?”

  Rafe took hold of her elbow as they walked on together across the green toward the waiting coach.

  “Candace is returning this Sunday to take over the Chinese Christian women’s Bible group,” Eden explained. “I thought I’d tell them good-bye and make sure everything in the hut is ready for Candace.”

  Eden had taught the previous two months since Candace had been at the Koko Head house with the ailing Nora. That was over now, since Nora returned to Kea Lani, and Candace was anxious to return to her Bible teaching.

  “I’ve told them I’m going away to Molokai for a year, but they didn’t expect me to leave the class yet. But it will be good for Candace to reunite with them again, even if Oliver doesn’t like her doing so.” The fact that Oliver was against Candace’s service troubled Eden. She had never believed him a committed believer, even if Zachary did.

  Rafe helped her inside the pleasant hotel coach and spoke to the driver, then climbed in and sat opposite her. The coach moved off down Beretania Street toward the Pearl River area.

  “I’m sure his irritation is over the possibility of her coming into contact with Keno on Hawaiiana,” Rafe said. “Even so, it doesn’t say much for his Christian convictions. It does show Candace he doesn’t consider the work important. He’d rather see it fall apart and the Chinese women go untaught than risk an encounter with Keno.”

  “Rafe, I’m worried. Maybe I shouldn’t judge him, but I’ve always had a suspicion he isn’t genuine. This will be crushing to Candace. She’s so dedicated, and she needs a husband who’s as zealous, or more so.”

  “Because she is, as you rightly say, zealous, she ought to know better than anyone he’s an empty talker.”

  “Then you don’t think he’s genuine either?”

  “No. You’re right about not judging someone’s inner motivations, but the fruits of character and the deeds of everyday life can be seen with the eye. You heard Oliver lie and defame Keno. He was willing, and even desirous, of seeing him hassled and put in jail for a few weeks. But I saw Thaddeus Hunnewell this morning. He’s told the marshal to drop any charge against Keno.”

  “Wonderful!”

  Thaddeus Hunnewell was from one of the old families, in which the titles, the wealth, th
e bloodlines, and the patriarchs and matriarchs were revered and ruled the family enterprise, especially when land and wealth were involved.

  Eden’s father, Dr. Jerome, though Ainsworth’s beloved youngest son, had almost nothing to say about the Derrington enterprise, due to Ainsworth’s own adherence to the laws of patriarchal dominance. Once the line was crossed by a marriage undesired, Ainsworth did not forgive or forget. He had mentioned only last night at dinner that “dear Millicent Judson Beacon has borne George Hampton Beacon Jr. four healthy sons.”

  It did not take Eden long to guess why her grandfather would tell the news to Dr. Jerome at the dinner table. Ainsworth was thinking that Jerome’s wife, Rebecca Stanhope Derrington, had only produced one child—a girl—and not even his favorite girl at that. And if Jerome had listened to him years ago and married Millicent Judson rather than Rebecca Stanhope, Jerome would be much better off today having four sons. Ainsworth evidently believed that the robust Millicent had produced these sons on her own initiative because she had come from the Judson family.

  I do have one positive feature going for me though, Eden thought. Grandfather Ainsworth is absolutely jubilant that I’m going to marry Rafe Easton. Rafe supplants even the well-regarded merits of a Hunnewell.

  Taking into account Townsend’s fall, Jerome should have inherited the Derrington crown jewels, but had suffered loss over his choice of Rebecca instead of Millicent Judson, and for becoming a doctor wandering the East instead of entering Hawaiian politics and doing more to enhance the Derrington estate. As a consequence of being Rebecca’s daughter, Eden had been shown scant favor as a child compared with either Candace or Zachary.

  But she was not resentful. God gave her Ambrose and Noelani, and it was through their witness and godly character she learned of the greatest Treasure of all, Christ Jesus. I wouldn’t exchange this legacy for the entire Derrington enterprise.

  In fairness to Grandfather Ainsworth, however, he had rejoiced in his youngest son’s homecoming after such a lengthy absence, even though it was his granddaughter Candace who was chosen to wield the golden key for the next generation of Derringtons. Now Candace must pay for the honored position by sacrificing a marriage based on love for one arranged.

  Eden remained distressed over the reason Candace agreed to marry Oliver. It was a secret that only she and Candace knew: Grandfather Ainsworth had promised Candace he would arrange for a secret land opportunity for Keno if she would marry Oliver for the good of the Derrington family. He would not only leave her his main heiress, but would do good to Keno as well. Eden knew her cousin too well to believe she would have agreed to the bargain if it hadn’t been for the consequence to Keno if she didn’t cooperate.

  Grandfather had stated that if Candace refused to fulfill her responsibility to the family he would use his power in the Islands to see that Keno was banished from Honolulu. Eden had little doubt that their grandfather could and would fulfill such a threat. Evidently Candace believed it as well.

  It troubled Eden that Dr. Jerome did not even have the money to pay for the printing press that she and Ambrose wanted to bring to Molokai for children’s Bible stories. It surprised her to learn recently how lacking in finances Jerome was. A loan for the printing press might be gotten from Rafe—though she had not asked him yet. She glanced at him. It was also Rafe’s ship, the Minoa, that they would ask to use to haul the press to the island. So far, she hadn’t dared mentioned either of these needs to him.

  Eden looked out the coach window at the blue seascape and wondered if it was ever right to break a pledge. Specifically the pledge she’d made to Candace to keep silent about her reason for marrying Oliver.

  I should never have vowed. I shouldn’t have permitted her to insist on my silence. It puts me in a very awkward position.

  I’ll talk to Ambrose about vows, she thought suddenly.

  She watched Rafe tap his chin as he sometimes did when pondering. She had always found the action attractive, though she couldn’t say why. He would be amused if he knew. He seemed to think many of her responses were amusing. When he did, she tried all the harder to appear older and wiser. For a minute she allowed herself the indulgent pleasure of enjoying his masculine good looks, knowing that someday they would be hers. She liked his sun-bronzed skin, the chiseled jawline that spoke to her of strength of purpose, the muscled body—then she realized how easy it was to allow her desires to become undisciplined, and even more so because they were engaged. Somehow it seemed all right to be a little lax, but an engagement ring was not yet a wedding ring. In fact, the need for caution was exceedingly great. They were in love, they knew they were in love, and they knew marriage waited.

  Quickly she looked away at the diamond engagement ring before he noticed the romantic glow that no doubt warmed her eyes. It would not be fair to him either, she thought. How long since she had read her Bible? Days, now, because she’d been so horrendously busy at Kalihi. Too long. She’d discovered early in life that relying only on Sunday church was not enough to keep her in fellowship with God. She needed time alone in the Scriptures. It was then that He spoke to her heart, using the Word itself. No wonder, then, that she was seesawing too near the edge on many issues, whether it was Rafe’s sexuality or her bouts with frustration. Of all the memories she cherished of Rafe through the recent years, the one that influenced her most was having seen him so many times alone on the black lava rock near the mission church, reading a small black Bible.

  Chapter Ten

  The Wicked Spies Upon the Righteous to Kill Him

  A jumble of palm fronds and broken ferns from yesterday’s storm hindered passage over the road tracking northward as the coach bounced over muddy ruts. The view of the Pacific Ocean along the coastline was dotted with fishing barks and boats. Eden saw large dark fishing nets spread out on the white sand, and the Hawaiian fishermen busy mending them in preparation for their night torch-fishing expeditions. Others were working in a taro field where a battered wagon was being loaded.

  They rode past a papaya grove where a number of contracted Asians were laboring. Bungalows built on stilts or rocks above ground soggy from mountain runoff emerged amid green slopes and more distant fields.

  The Easton pearl beds were not far away. Eden was pleased that Celestine had regained rightful control from Uncle Townsend, and that they would soon be under Rafe’s control. It was jurisdiction over the pearl beds that had fed the trouble between Townsend and Celestine when she’d insisted last year that her son rightfully inherit what his father had worked hard to attain. Remembering that Townsend was even now prowling San Francisco heightened her worry. She’d been praying over Celestine and Kip since Rafe had told her the news.

  Within a short time they rode past the Derrington Kea Lani Plantation, and some distance beyond it—actually walking distance, which she’d covered on foot several times—to Rafe’s Hawaiiana.

  The pineapple plantings had flourished these last few months, the green slips growing into strong bushes that Rafe said would produce the sweetest and plumpest pineapples anywhere in the Pacific. He could market the pineapples to the mainlanders, and was still deciding how to accomplish it with Keno and Parker Judson. His notion of “canning” the fruit seemed to Eden a bit challenging, and she did not see how such a complicated task could ever be accomplished, but she had learned a long time ago not to underestimate Rafe and Keno. They could get together and come up with some of the wildest plans she had ever heard of, but she loved to sit and listen to them as she had in the old days when Candace had been with her, and Rafe and Keno would come to visit them at Kea Lani.

  The rich Hawaiian soil beneath the bright sunlight smiled on the pineapple slips, as had the rain and all the rest of God’s blessings. Grandfather Ainsworth scolded himself every morning at breakfast because he had not taken Rafe seriously when he’d had the opportunity. Instead he’d given his son Townsend the nod to try to run Rafe out of Hawaii. Rafe had left Honolulu, but returned two years later with a treasure from F
rench Guiana.

  When in San Francisco two years ago, Grandfather Ainsworth tasted one of the new variety brought back on the Minoa, and even though the fruit wasn’t fresh, he admitted to Parker Judson that he’d made an error in not backing Rafe Easton. It was then that Parker Judson had contacted Rafe and made an offer of partnership too generous to refuse, and so the business relationship had grown into a friendship.

  The pineapple bushes were thriving in their new homeland, and so was the sugarcane.

  “Ainsworth was telling Silas this morning that there are deep rumblings of trouble from the native population over too many non-Polynesian workers being contracted,” she said.

  “I can understand that,” Rafe said thoughtfully. “Trouble is, the growers have little choice. We’d have no men to labor in the fields if we couldn’t contract them. But the natives have a legitimate complaint; at the rate we’re bringing the Asiatics in to the Islands they could change the balance of Hawaiian ethnicity in another generation if they stay on to settle. But actually it’s Wilcox who’s stirring up the racial issue. He’s a hothead. He’s telling the Chinese and Japanese they have the right to vote along with the Hawaiians. It plays well for his power base.”

  Eden refused to come to any firm decision. “Well, the workers aren’t citizens of Hawaii just because they’re laboring here,” she mused. “They were contracted with a certain thing in mind, to work. When the contract is fulfilled aren’t they to return with their wages to their own nation?”

  “That was the original idea, but most of them aren’t going back. The native Hawaiians find that a possible threat, since they’ll be outnumbered. Ultimately it all comes down to annexation. Without it, in the kind of world we live in, Hawaii will be lost in another forty years. We might as well come to grips with it.”