Jewel of the Pacific

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Jewel of the Pacific Page 3

by Linda Lee Chaikin


  “He told me earlier that he was going to Kea Lani to get money from Grandfather so he can escape to the Caribbean,” she explained. “He will already be there if he kept his plan.”

  “The authorities have been alerted. The docks are being watched,” Ambrose said. Neither he nor Ling looked satisfied.

  “I won’t say what I think of him and all he’s done,” she said tensely.

  “I understand. My carnal nature growls that he’s the one who deserves to be in a coma. Don’t think this is easier for me because I’m a minister. That old sin nature we inherit in Adam is nothing to ignore. It’s dangerous, deadly, and evil. That’s why we’re told not to let it reign over us, not to yield the members of our body and mind to it. Townsend is responsible for Matt’s death,” he said of his younger brother, Rafe’s father. “That was a great loss to me. When I saw Celestine marry Townsend and subject Rafe to his bullying—well, I spent many long walks on the beach in prayer.”

  Eden reached over to him. “I know—”

  “Rafe became the son I always wanted. Rafe and Keno, both.” Ambrose shook his head. “Unfortunately, Rafe let his old nature reign for just an hour! Your abduction, the burning of Hanalei, and Matt’s death sought its pound of flesh. I’m not making excuses for Rafe, for this has produced a miserable harvest.”

  “Townsend is the one who should reap the harvest,” she said. “He’s done more hurt and evil than Rafe ever could!”

  “Ah, my lass, that somber time will come, as it will for all men rejecting God’s mercy. We leave Townsend’s verdict to the great Lord alone. Rafe, we know, is a true Christian. He can be chastened for his disobedience, but never condemned. Townsend, on the other hand … I have long prayed for Townsend.”

  He glanced kindly at Ling. “Will you come with us to Kea Lani, or will you remain here at Hanalei?”

  “I stay. Lock all doors. As you say, I not alone ever when Son of true God knows me.”

  Ambrose threw a strong arm around Ling’s thin shoulders and smiled. “Well said.”

  He turned to Eden. “Come, lass, I’ll bring you to Honolulu, to Noelani. She’s waiting for you at Kea Lani with your grandfather and Candace. Keno and the boys are holding an all-day, all-night prayer vigil for Rafe at the mission church. If there is a solution to all this sinful harvest, lass, we will find it there.”

  “Can we make it to Honolulu in this rainstorm?” Eden asked.

  “Liho is confident we can. He’s waiting for us.”

  “Your prayers for Rafe are just as acceptable here as in the church in Honolulu,” Ambrose told Ling. “So you gather the others to pray together.”

  “Next time you see me you bring the Holy Book in Chinese, like you say?”

  “I’ll have it next week from the printer in San Francisco. I sent for more Chinese Bibles two weeks ago.”

  “One longer week. I wait.”

  The thought of intercession for Rafe, and the knowledge that she was not the only one who cared for him strengthened her confidence. She followed Ambrose to Liho’s boat, and boarded quietly for the excursion through the dark, choppy waters to Honolulu.

  Chapter Three

  His Grace Overshadows

  Dawn broke in the eastern sky, as Eden and Ambrose arrived at Kea Lani House at the Derrington sugar plantation. The sun glowed above the white-pillared structure with three stories, a replica of Eden’s great-grandmother Amabel’s house in Vicksburg, Mississippi.

  Grandfather Ainsworth walked the floor of the large parlor. His face was drawn, his cheek twitching with tension, and his pallor gray.

  Eden stopped abruptly. “Grandfather!”

  Only in seeing how ill he now looked over this unsettled tragedy with his middle son, Townsend, did she consider how deeply he’d been affected.

  Townsend had retained his powerful position in the family and boasted his rightful sonship, aided, Eden often thought, on account of what Ainsworth considered Jerome’s wasted dedication to his medical work rather than to the Derrington family sugar enterprise and its political influence on the Islands.

  Now, Grandfather Ainsworth hurried to her. “My dear child! Thank God! Then you are all right?”

  His concern pleased Eden.

  “Yes, Grandfather, I’m unhurt.”

  “A terrible, terrible tragedy.” He shook his head with more distress than she’d ever seen him show. “I blame myself for what has happened to Rafe. The injustice he put up with at the hand of my wayward son went on for too long, and I foolishly did little about it.”

  His words fueled her emotional fire, but she refused to unleash tears.

  “Rafe arrived in time to rescue me from the fire Townsend set. Rafe risked his life to save me.”

  “Then Townsend deliberately left you in the house.” His dignified features revealed his shock.

  Her grandfather held her protectively. She heard his groan of sorrow for his wasted son Townsend, as well as for her.

  “What has the Derrington family become in this last generation that we, the sons and daughters of the first Christian missionaries, could produce a man who would stoop so low. Anger, revenge, greed—murder.”

  Ambrose entered the parlor, followed by Keno and his aunt Noelani. Grandfather Ainsworth continued speaking. “And he was granted so much to use for good and godliness in this life! Now look at him, a would-be murderer! Oh how I’ve failed Him!”

  “Townsend has failed you, Ainsworth,” Ambrose stated.

  Ainsworth sank into a chair as though his strength had drained out of him. His eyes trailed to a painting high on the wall, and Eden followed his gaze. The painting was of her great-grandfather Jedaiah Derrington with silver hair, high cheekbones, and alert, kind eyes. He had left New England in the late 1820s to serve as a missionary. His firstborn son, Ainsworth, had been born in Honolulu.

  “I was not thinking of my failure to Townsend,” Ainsworth said tiredly, “but my failure to God.”

  “Who has not failed Him?” Ambrose said. “The most pious offspring of Adam has stumbled into the quicksand. We struggle to climb out on our own. We promise to do better tomorrow. We rely on good works, on religious rituals—yet, we remain where we fell, sinking deeper with each hour. The strong arm of Christ alone can lift us out of the mire to stand before God, spotless and complete in His righteousness.”

  Ainsworth bowed his silver head, nodding.

  “You haven’t prayed with me in a long time, Ainsworth. Why not now? Then go upstairs and rest,” Ambrose said.

  Eden, Noelani, and Keno bowed their heads along with Ainsworth and Ambrose. When the prayer ended, Eden slipped out of the room with Noelani and Keno, and went down the stairs. Eden stopped on the bottom stair and turned to Keno.

  His sympathy was plain. He said in a low voice: “I’m sorry, Eden.”

  He used her first name as he always did in private, something he wouldn’t have done in parlor society, but they knew each other well, having been in each other’s company often with Rafe and Candace. She knew he had a nickname for her that he used with Rafe—“Miss Green Eyes.” She managed a smile and laid a hand on his arm.

  “I shall be all right, but did Rafe say anything at all on the way to Honolulu, to the medical ward?”

  “No. He was not conscious. Look, Eden, we’ve begun a 24-hour prayer vigil at the mission church for him. Maybe there’s some real hope. All things in God’s will are possible. So don’t give up yet.”

  She squeezed his arm. “Yes it’s possible. As you so well put it, everything in God’s will is possible. I won’t give up yet, especially if you won’t.”

  “You can be sure. And neither will Noelani.” He put a strong arm around the older woman’s shoulder.

  “Rafe is like a son to me,” Noelani admitted. “Just like my Keno. Ambrose and I have been praying much.”

  Keno turned to leave. “Get some rest, both of you. I’m going to the church now. All my cousins are there—even Silas,” he said with a note of surprise about Townsend’s ille
gitimate son.

  “You mean Silas was at the church praying?” she asked, surprised.

  “Well.” Keno rubbed his chin. “Whether he was praying is questionable since I don’t believe he’s reconciled to God yet—but he has been coming to church to see Ambrose recently. Isn’t that right, Noelani?”

  “Silas is a rascal,” she said. “Ambrose says Silas likes to come to his office and argue about the Bible. It doesn’t worry Ambrose any.”

  “Well, maybe some of it is getting through,” Keno said. “Anyway, Eden, he was there earlier, but he suddenly left.”

  “Oh? Why was that?”

  “I don’t know. Liho said a coach passed by slowly but didn’t stop. He recognized the driver as his friend who works at the Royal Hotel. Silas slipped out after that.”

  “He didn’t come home here,” Noelani said. “I’ve been here all evening. I’d have heard him.”

  “Then he must have gone into Honolulu,” Eden suggested.

  “Well, good night Eden, Aunt Noelani. I’ll see you both later at the vigil. Aloha.”

  Noelani urged Eden up the stairs. “One day with its troubles is enough. You need sleep,” she said.

  “I’ll stay with you,” Noelani said. “Just like I used to do when you were small, to make sure you don’t wake up with a nightmare.”

  Upstairs in her own familiar bedroom, Eden was able to put down some of the burdens weighing on her heart. She stretched out on clean, crisp sheets, hoping for a few hours of sleep before going to the prayer vigil.

  Noelani sat in a rocking chair across the room, near the open windows. Soon she began humming hymns and island melodies, as if Eden were a child again. Eden smiled. Thank You, Lord, for people like Noelani and Ambrose. Townsend’s violent face faded into the dimness of her mind as Noelani’s soft voice prevailed.

  Eden looked across the bedroom at the clock. “Noelani, why didn’t you wake me sooner? I must get to the church.”

  “You needed sleep even more. Here, drink this.”

  The statuesque woman brought her a cup of tea and stood until Eden drank it.

  This woman who had helped raise Eden was a dignified older woman with white hair and a pleasantly creased round face. She was a hapa-haole—her white, haole father had worked on a New Bedford whaling ship.

  “Any news from Dr. Jerome?” Eden asked.

  “Nothing yet. Mr. Ainsworth left with Ambrose earlier.”

  “He was supposed to sleep.”

  Like me, she thought with self-incrimination as she rushed to get dressed.

  “And Candace?”

  “She’s gone to the hospital to bring your cousin Zachary home.” Noelani shook her head. “I always knew the Derrington matters would end badly when it came to your uncle. Townsend brought trouble wherever he walked. I can almost see the grass withering beneath his footsteps. When I think what might have happened to you if Rafe hadn’t arrived when he did.” She placed the palms of her hands against her temples and closed her eyes.

  There was no carriage out front to suggest that Candace and Zachary had arrived, though the groom might have brought the horses back to the stable.

  Great-aunt Nora had arrived a week earlier from Tamarind house on Koko Head, but she had preferred a room at the Royal Hotel. She was at harmless odds with her brother, Ainsworth, over a loan she needed to keep her newspaper, the Gazette, financially stable. Eden was convinced that Nora had gone to the hotel to appeal to Rafe for a loan.

  If things weren’t so tragic Eden could have laughed at the turnaround of events. With possession of Hanalei, owning half of the pineapple plantation called Hawaiiana, and the Easton pearl beds under his rightful control, Rafe Easton had unexpectedly become the man the Derringtons looked to. Before acquiring control of all things Easton, Rafe was merely the adventurous son of Matt and Celestine, respected for his abilities, but not seen as someone either Grandfather Ainsworth or Great-aunt Nora would have approached for help.

  Ainsworth had always taken favorably to Rafe, but in earlier times when Rafe had supported the queen’s rule rather than annexation, Rafe had practically been told to leave Honolulu and not come back.

  As for Great-aunt Nora, ever since Rafe had promised to loan Dr. Jerome the money to build his research clinic on the island called Molokai, where the leper settlement was, Nora had realized that she might turn to him for help with the Gazette. She’d come to the hotel, but then the tragedy at Hanalei had occurred—and Rafe was in a coma, and …

  Eden worried. The marshal hadn’t brought any new information on Townsend. If he’d tried to slip away on a steamer, wouldn’t someone have noticed his condition?

  Voices came from the direction of the parlor. However, the room furnished with magnificent native woods and green potted ferns was empty.

  Eden swept across the room and out onto the lanai. She hoped she’d see her father, Dr. Jerome. He could explain everything so much more clearly than anyone else. She’d been disappointed on arriving at Kea Lani to be told again that Dr. Clifford Bolton could not continue as Rafe’s physician since he’d been pronounced a leper.

  Naturally she was confident in her father’s ability to care for Rafe, but he must be told about Rafe’s severe headaches from an earlier injury. Perhaps Dr. Bolton had sent Jerome the information, but she wanted to make certain.

  She leaned over the railing and scanned the garden below. She could see no one amid the thick banana plants, white orchids, and black lava rocks. The voices, however, continued even louder than before.

  She couldn’t distinguish the precise words being flung in disagreement, but the voices were not Dr. Jerome and Grandfather Ainsworth. One was a woman, the other a man—no, there were two men’s voices.

  Eden recognized the southern accent of her cousin Silas Derrington. Silas claimed to have grown up in Louisiana, and his accent confirmed that.

  Zachary resented his father’s preference for the illegitimate Silas, but Grandfather Ainsworth and even Great-aunt Nora with her stolid principles had readily accepted Silas. Grandfather thought Silas would prove an asset to the family sugar enterprise and had recently placed Silas in a position of authority—suggesting to Zachary that Silas might be appointed heir above him.

  Eden worried of further misunderstandings and growing trouble between the two half brothers. She imagined the shame and heartbreak the Derringtons would face when Townsend was put on trial. It was Grandfather Ainsworth’s family pride that had caused her family to not reveal to Eden that her mother, Rebecca, was a leper on Molokai. Ainsworth and Great-aunt Nora had feared certain people in society would shun the Derrington name, afraid the disease loitered within the premises.

  Grandfather Ainsworth’s ambition for the family name had also driven him to want to marry Eden into another powerful island family, and he was displeased when she became a nurse at Kalihi hospital working with her Aunt Lana in leprosy research.

  From the garden, Silas’s voice rose above the others. “So that’s the way it is.”

  A moment later Silas emerged from behind the banana plants, followed by a man and woman.

  Eden stood motionless. I’ve seen them recently … somewhere.

  The man was tall, thin, and gloomy looking in black clothing and a sleek top hat. The woman wore a scarf rather than a stylish hat. She also wore gloves, and a satiny black dress. Were they in mourning?

  Silas climbed the steps to the lanai. Eden expected the couple to follow, but they turned toward the front gate. Eden didn’t recall seeing a carriage parked nearby.

  Suddenly Eden could hear familiar voices in the entryway and footsteps coming into the parlor. She turned and looked at Silas again. He saw her standing there, and his eyes flickered with something like surprise.

  Silas was a pleasant-looking young man with wavy chestnut-brown hair and the same light blue eyes as his father and Zachary. Recently he’d received as many invitations to picnics, dinners, and balls as Zachary.

  Silas, while of a husky build, showed lit
tle interest in outdoor activities, and did not care for breeding thoroughbred horses as Rafe and Zachary did. Silas once commented that if they’d race their horses against each other, then he’d be interested. Such talk only bolstered Zachary’s claim that Silas was an “untrustworthy gambler from New Orleans.”

  One of Silas’ walking sticks had a heavy silver handle designed like a wolf’s head. Zachary had recently accused Silas of “bashing me on the side of the head” with that stick. The head injury had occurred weeks earlier in the darkened Hunnewell garden. Eden was there that night, and so were Silas and Rafe, but the culprit had proven to be someone else. The accusation, though, did show Zachary’s suspicion of Silas.

  Candace and Zachary Derrington entered the parlor with Great-aunt Nora. Eden went into Great-aunt Nora, anxious for the latest news on Rafe.

  “My dearest child!” Nora’s face was etched with worry. “How could such a horrid thing happen! Are you well, my dear? That rapscallion nephew didn’t hurt you?”

  Eden forced a smile and they embraced. Eden planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’m safe, Aunt Nora. And what’s the news of Rafe?”

  “No change, my dear. Your father remains nearby. He is in contact with other doctors. Everything possible is being done.”

  Zachary stepped forward and hugged Eden.

  “Poor little cousin,” he said emotionally. “It must have been wickedly evil for you.”

  Eden patted his shoulder. “And you! Are you badly injured? I was horrified when I saw him attack you on the Lilly of the Star.”

  “Just bruises and probably a sprained arm.” His light blue eyes turned icy with anger. “Sprained where ‘dear old Dad’ kicked me with his boot.”

  “Let’s forget that now,” Candace said, stepping forward.

  Silas had entered the parlor just behind Eden. Caution flamed his eyes when he met Zachary’s glower.

  “Well,” Silas said with forced cheerfulness, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels, “you look as though you’ll be right as rain in another day or two, Zach, old boy.”

 

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