“The hunters wouldn’t agree with you.”
“I don’t expect them to, and their self-righteous indignation doesn’t impress me either. To kill for food is one thing, but to kill the few remaining animals of a species so you can impress your cronies back home about what a big mighty sportsman you are is not sport, but the love of killing for the ‘hunt’s’ sake. The animal doesn’t have a chance against a powerful hunting rifle! Some of them would kill the last of anything if it meant boosting their egos.”
“One day the world will wake up and find their grandchildren discussing elephants and lions the way we do dinosaurs. They’ll only exist in books and movies. Doesn’t anyone else out there care but us?”
“Calm down, Udall. We’re all on the same side here.”
“Are we?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Are you certain we all agree with Skyler about the elephants at Marsabit?”
“Are you suggesting otherwise?”
“That’s what I’m suggesting!”
“Now, Udall—”
“Quiet—! Someone’s coming.”
Sable stood rigid, heart throbbing in her temples. A figure appeared out of the hot night, his safari shirt reflecting the light. Kash! He came up the veranda steps from the grounds, and someone murmured, “What’s he doing here?”
“I’ve heard he’s working with Skyler to protect the elephants.”
“You’re not serious?”
Sable was interrupted from listening when footsteps sounded from behind her. She turned to see Zenobia standing in the lighted entranceway of the dining commons.
“There you are, Sable. Kate’s looking for you.”
“I’m coming now….”
The dining tables with their pristine white linen had been stashed away now, and the chairs set out neatly in rows, transforming the dining commons back into a conference hall. Sable silently took her seat beside Kate, glancing off to the darkened veranda to see where Kash had gone.
The international delegates filed in two and three at a time, carrying leather portfolios. A few brought laptop computers for taking notes; others held portable tape recorders. Their somber faces reminded her of soldiers who’d survived an attack by the enemy and remained hopelessly outnumbered but determined to die rather than surrender.
Kash entered after the others had taken their seats and opted for an unobtrusive position at the back by a decorative fireplace, but his virile presence never went unnoticed in a group. By now everyone must have heard that he was heading up Smith and Browning, and glances were shot his way from a few of the aggressive conservationists.
Kate must have noticed, for she leaned toward Sable and whispered behind her lecture program, “Conroy Udall is quite direct about his disapproval, isn’t he? He may not shoot game, but he looks ready to draw a six-shooter on Kash.”
Sable moved uneasily in her chair as she watched the challenging glower that Udall threw toward Kash.
“He’s the kind to stand up and say something that embarrasses everyone,” continued Kate. “I wonder if you shouldn’t head him off? Maybe introduce Kash as the guide bringing us to Samburu at Dad’s request?”
“I would,” Sable whispered, “but Kash asked us not to say anything until after tonight. Vince will announce how Father hired him. Anyway, I overheard a few of them talking on the terrace. They already know Father’s hired him, but they still disapprove.”
She wondered what would happen when Smith and Browning’s trucks arrived in the morning!
Kate glanced toward the podium, curious. “Where is Vince? He’s supposed to take Dad’s place as speaker tonight. I haven’t seen him since dinner. He behaved oddly, don’t you think?”
Sable hadn’t noticed, so taken up was she with her own concerns. “Did he? Gran said he was going over his speaking notes, that he was quite upset over the information he’s going to bring the delegates.”
“Here he comes now…looks like he’s going to deliver a eulogy.”
This was a moment in the spotlight that Vince had wanted for himself, and he was making the most of it as he glanced about at his audience. His own mood was brimming over with what Sable knew Kash would find both boring and “pseudo-intellectual.” Whether or not Vince was aware of Kash could not be ascertained, since he didn’t seem to take note of his presence at the back of the room.
Vince allowed the effect of his silence to gather like thunderclouds over a mountain while he slowly prepared his notes on the lectern. He looked directly down at Kate, then Sable.
“We all know Skyler Dunsmoor to be a wildlife conservationist we hold in highest regard for his many unselfish years of research on the elephants of East Africa—especially in the NFD region of Samburu and Marsabit. He regrets he cannot be here with us tonight. He’s asked me to convey his warmest greetings to what he considers the best team of fellow conservationists yet gathered here at Kenyatta Lodge.”
Her father had “asked” him? When had Vince spoken to her father?
“I apologize for keeping you all waiting tonight. You will understand why when I tell you that I’ve just been on the telephone with Skyler.”
Sable was fully alert, sharing a surprised glance with Kate. Their father had spoken with Vince but had not asked to speak even a word of greeting to her or Kate?
A ripple of surprise and interest ran through the audience.
Vince’s voice sounded clearly as he stood on the platform answering questions put to him from the delegates.
“Has Skyler any idea how many elephants are left in Marsabit?” asked Udall.
“We know they’ve been killed for years,” said another delegate. “The forest is being burned for grazing land, trees giving way to shambas, cattle and goats replacing game animals. The villages are multiplying, war, unrestricted poaching—there can’t be many.”
“What does Skyler hope to accomplish single-handedly?”
Vince shuffled his notes. “Skyler tells me he’s in contact with officials in the Kenyan government. The question is, do we have time to stop the rebel factions from culling the elephants?”
“Some of the elephants may have migrated to a safer area that the poachers have not yet discovered,” said Udall. “Does Skyler know where it is?”
“To learn that, we must wait until I meet with him at Samburu. The information he asked me to share with you is all here, documented as well as time and the situation will warrant. My assistant, Miss Dunsmoor, will distribute the handouts.”
His assistant? Sable, realizing that Vince was smiling at her and that heads turned toward her anxious for the information, stood, masking her surprise. She walked to the podium and took the handouts from Vince and began to pass them out as he continued.
“The news, ladies and gentlemen, is brutally frank, as truth sometimes is. I will in no way try to shield your emotions from the tragedy now playing out in the region. The last great herd of giant-tusked elephants in the NFD region is facing extinction, not by poachers as we had thought—but through interfactional war. The rebel factions, faced with a food crisis, are slaughtering the elephants to feed their soldiers and selling the ivory on the black market for weapons. Unless the Kenyan government risks sending troops in to put an end to the slaughter, there is little we can do to stop it.”
Sable was stunned by the news. A horrified silence engulfed the room. As the conservationists read through the information sheet trying to understand the full meaning of the news her father had sent to Vince, Sable had reached the back of the room where Kash waited by the fireplace.
Her eyes searched his for confirmation as she handed him the sheets, but it was not dismay she saw in the midnight blue eyes, only anger. He scanned it while she waited, heartsick. His jaw flexed. “He’s lying.”
Lying! She stared at Kash, at first unable to respond. As Vince’s voice echoed in the background, her insides twisted into a knot.
“Lying about speaking to my father? Or the army killing the elephants
to feed their soldiers?”
He pretended to be busy studying the handout. “Both,” he stated. “He hasn’t spoken to Skyler. He doesn’t know where your father is, and Vince is the last man he’d get in touch with. And as for any fighting between the rebel factions, it’s centered in Somalia, around Mogadishu, where U.S. Marines landed some time ago, not Marsabit.”
Seeing Kash’s expression as he watched Vince, she felt a chill touch her skin. The disdain was masked with restraint, but knowing Kash so well, she couldn’t miss it.
Sable felt an odious chill run down her spine. Kash believed Vince could be so deceitful as to stand before conservationists and bemoan the state and future of the elephant population in the north, all to cover his true involvement.
“Why would he lie?” she whispered.
His eyes came back to hers as if to discover the reason for her protest. “You know the answer by now.”
She watched Vince, remembering what Kash had said: Vince had another cause that meant even more to him than wildlife preservation. The work at Lake Rudolf, and his associates who formed some sort of alliance for research.
“It’s far easier to blame the rebel factions for slaughtering the elephants than a hunting cartel supplying a Far Eastern market. Some of the businessmen he wanted Zenobia to permit to buy into the shipping are middlemen selling the goods.”
She remembered something else—Browning and the trucks that were to arrive tomorrow morning. “Those despicable zoo hunters work for you, not Vince.”
“Do they?”
Alert, she scanned his face for a deeper meaning to the suggestion. “You mean to say they don’t?”
“I won’t argue whether they do or not. We’re leaving in the morning, that is if you won’t wisely change your mind and stay with Zenobia. Let me and the others handle the problems in Samburu.”
“What about Browning? The zoo trucks? What better way to get into the elephant reserve than working with the respected conservationist Skyler Dunsmoor?” she asked dully. “Your crew of hunters will have a cover by transporting two women doing Christian relief.”
His eyes flickered, but his expression didn’t change. “Is that what you think? Or did Adler tell you that?”
When she made no comment he added, “I told you in the Land Rover on our way to the manyatta what I was doing working with Browning.”
I do trust you, she wanted to say, but just then someone entered the room from the veranda steps. Her eyes fell on a brawny blond-headed man in Levi’s and a jacket. His cool gaze circled the room of conferees until it fell upon Kash. Then Browning, seeing Sable, smiled unpleasantly and gestured his head in exaggerated deference.
Her gaze came to Kash for an explanation, but while his gaze narrowed, he didn’t apologize for Browning’s presence among wildlife conservationists. Their eyes held. When it was obvious he would say no more, she turned to walk across the room to take her seat beside Kate. Kash caught her wrist and she paused, her back toward him.
“A woman who trusts a man whose heart she claims to know shouldn’t need to ask those questions. If you’re still doubting the kind of man I am, then we haven’t left first base.”
He left with Browning through one of the side doors, and Sable looked after him.
****
The day dawned hot and bright with the rumble of truck engines and voices below in the front of the lodge. Gran’s dogs were barking and a horn blared. The bedroom door opened, and Kate swept in with exaggerated fanfare, bringing a tray with a mug of coffee and a steaming bowl. “Are you still sleeping?” she teased cheerily. “I’ve been up an hour, had my devotions, and a hearty and healthy breakfast.”
Sable groaned. “Can’t be morning already.”
“It is. And if you don’t want Kash to know what a lazy little creature you really are in the mornings, you’d better get a move on. He’s an early riser and would love to give you a rough time of it. What are you going to do when you two get married? He’s the kind to throw you in the shower.”
“Oh yeah! Let him try! Thanks for the coffee—what’s that?” she asked with a grimace, staring at a bowl of mush.
“Oatmeal and wheat germ. It’s good for you.”
“First thing in the morning? You’re kidding. Just coffee please, black.”
“Mckib’s already loading the supplies.” She rubbed her palms together with delight. “This is the day, my girl. We’re headed for Samburu!” Her eyes were alive with excitement. She was dressed in a traditional safari habit, her newly shampooed dark hair glinting in a long ponytail that made her look eighteen instead of twenty-eight. She whistled a happy tune and went to Sable’s closet to haul out her traveling clothes.
Sable exaggerated a groan. “Mother should have named you Tweety Bird instead of Kate. One would think Dean was going to bring us on the journey instead of the dude who calls himself a ‘zoo’ hunter.”
“Never mind Browning. My stomach churns just looking at him. How Kash can put up with him, I don’t know. He’s got a crew of a dozen hunks out there all lounging around with hunting rifles. The conservationists are blue in the face. One thing’s clear—not all the crew appear to be loyal to him.”
Sable grew serious as she drank her coffee. “Kash couldn’t be partners with him.” Then she looked at Kate curiously. “What do you mean, not all are loyal to Browning? What makes you think so?”
Kate shrugged. “I noticed some of the men seemed quite different, more like Kash. They keep to themselves.”
Sable wondered and threw aside the sheet. Grabbing her robe, she slipped it on and carried her mug of coffee over to the open window.
Below, the vehicles were parked and the men were loading them with crates. She saw Kash near one of the trucks, talking to Mckibber.
“Kash says Dean will be flying into Samburu to help you show the JESUS film,” said Kate on her way out.
Twenty minutes later Sable was dressed in expedition slacks and safari boots and came down the porch steps with her hat in one hand and carrying case in the other. Noise and excitement filled the yard as the crew worked, calling orders above the noise of barking dogs. Zenobia came from the direction of one of the trucks, a pert figure in her usual dungarees.
Sable set her case down and wrapped her arms about her grandmother. “I’ll call you from Samburu, Gran.”
“Do what you must, dear, then come home with Kash. This is where you both belong. Did you get the shipping business settled yet?”
“Yes and no….”
“Well…it won’t matter much once you’re married. You’ll have a big wedding, of course. We’ll invite everyone we know from Nairobi. You’ll make a beautiful bride.”
Sable laughed wryly. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? I don’t know about any wedding in the offing, and if Kash heard you talking like that he’d disappear to the wilds of Tanzania again.”
Zenobia looked across the sun-drenched yard in his direction and merely smiled. “Bring Skyler home, too, will you? I miss him dreadfully.”
Sable kissed her cheek. “I’ll do my best.”
When Zenobia went off with the three dogs trotting beside her, Sable watched her until she went up the porch steps into the lodge, then picked up her case and looked toward Kash. He stood by a Land Rover, the attractive and exemplary image of the traditional safari hunter-guide.
With the harsh cry of birds filling the air, Sable picked up her case and walked up, debating whether she wished to ride in the white van with Vince and some of the others. Kash settled the issue by taking her case and placing it in the Land Rover.
He opened the passenger door. “We have a good deal to discuss,” he said easily, and Sable wasn’t inclined to disagree.
Fourteen
Mckibber, who had decided to accompany Kash at the last moment—probably due to his nephew’s prompting—sat in the back of the Land Rover, two rifles and a water bag beside him and cartons of ammunition at his booted feet. Along with the supplies they wo
uld deliver to Samburu, camping gear, boxes, and jerry cans were stashed in the two trucks, and some of the crew were seated on the heap of stores. Browning was driving one of the trucks, and Sable commented dryly, “As reckless a driver as he is, he’ll probably end up running off into a ravine somewhere and ruin our supplies before we ever get to Samburu.”
They drove through Nairobi and took the road northeast to Thika, climbing steadily.
“This is great old settler country,” Mckib told her longingly. “Mostly citrus groves and tea plantations.”
Sable glanced at Kash, knowing how he felt about owning land in Kenya, but his expression showed none of his disappointment. She saw plantation houses built by the British set well into the shade of jacaranda and capre chestnut trees in bloom. The once fine houses were now aged and tired looking with peeling paint, and the gardens looked to her to be filled with workers’ huts and overgrown with weeds and filled with rubbish. African children ran and played everywhere.
Mckibber began, “Now, if I could go back fifty years—”
“But we can’t,” Kash smoothly interrupted, “so let’s not talk about our losses. Hand me the map, will you?”
Mckib leaned forward, passing it to him with a wink at Sable. “Think he really needs this? Look at him. Best guide in Kenya and he’s got to read the map just a few miles out of Nairobi.”
Sable laughed. “Deceptive, isn’t he? Poor Mr. Browning may think his ‘boss’ doesn’t know the route to Samburu.”
Beyond the township of Thika she began to get glimpses of Mount Kenya, its summit like a great medieval fortress—black rock against perpetual crystalline snow and deep sky. They were into more open country now, with the Aberdare mountain range closing in to the left. Just before midday as they passed the turnoff to Nyeri, Sable read the signpost of a tourist mecca: “Treetops.” Visitors often stopped here and had lunch at the Outspan Hotel. The daughter of the king of England had spent a night in the treehouse lookout on vacation one year and climbed down the next morning to learn she was the now Queen Elizabeth.
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