Jewel of the Pacific (32 page)

Nor would she give him or Bernice another moment of her time. She turned, straightened her shoulders, and swept up the wooden walk to the door of the
Gazette.
She opened the door and went in, banging it behind her.

Inside the room she tried to calm her breathing.

Zachary was bent over a stack of scribbled papers on his desk with pencil in hand. He looked up and frowned.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course I’m all right.”

“You look ill—or angry.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop quizzing me, Zachary!”

“Okay, okay. How’s Nora today? I didn’t see her before I left Kea Lani this morning. I needed an early start.” He patted the stack of papers. “I have a load of information that will make this paper zing with sales.” As usual he added the obstacle, “All I need is permission from Nora. But I’m going to wait until my meeting with Rafe at the Royal Hotel tonight. I wonder if he was able to get Silas and Ambrose together yet.”

“I’ve no idea. He’s out front now, with Mr. Judson and his niece. Why not go and ask him?”

“Oh. Is he out there?” Zachary went to look out the window. “Sure enough. There’s Bunny, smiling at him.”

“Nora was up when I left,” she interrupted. “She even wanted to come into town with me. Candace talked her out of it for another day. Tomorrow she’ll go back to the hotel. Something happened to upset her at the ball, but she’s not talking. I don’t think we should trouble her about it either. It will only put more stress on her.”

“I wasn’t going to ask her. I think I already know. So does Rafe.”

“As for the information that will make the
Gazette
’s sales zing, I don’t believe Nora will give you the permission.

“I’ve heard that before,” he said wryly, returning to his desk, “but when Rafe and I get through with our detective work there won’t be a choice. It will be printed in the
Gazette.
Grandfather or not. And probably no inheritance either.” He went on working, his sleek blond head bent over the desk.

And that’s why the
Gazette
must be saved
, she thought. Nora’s already promised the paper as his inheritance.

“I’ll be working for an hour or so in Nora’s office,” she told him, and went into the small room, shutting the door behind her, also shutting the door of her mind to Rafe.

She sat down and produced a working installment on the first section of the journal. It covered her mother’s heartbreak when she first discovered she was a leper. She went to work writing and rewriting until the edition was presentable to give to Nora for her first read-through. When she looked at the clock again, she decided it was time to go back to Kea Lani and give the installment to Great-aunt Nora. Naturally, there was nothing in this section on Kip. Nor would she ever put the truth about his parentage in the
Gazette
for strangers to read.

She grew uneasy.
But did Rafe believe that?

She was sure he was still in a hard, cold disposition over her insult last night. She felt miserable. There was so much wrong everywhere. She needn’t look for it in Iolani Palace or Washington, D.C., or on Kalawao or in the darkest regions of the world. She had only to search her own heart to find the sin of disobedience.

She massaged her aching temples.
Savior, I desperately need You. Help me
.

When Rafe arrived at Ambrose and Noelani’s bungalow he was in the mood for Noelani’s mothering ways offered in the form of delicious food. After dinner, dessert, and some of his own coffee from Hanalei, he discussed the morning’s meeting with Queen Liliuokalani.

“Naturally, everything was left in ruin. But old Hunnewell went on his way patting himself on the back for standing up to the woman ruining Hawaii.”

“You’re beginning to sound as if you’re leaning again toward the monarchy,” Ambrose said.

Rafe shook his head. “No, not that. Just weary of seeing everything come to a fruitless conclusion. I believe the men are correct when they say she’s out to destroy the ’87 Constitution. The very throne expected to rule by law and right is being corrupted by the big money interests. They’re coming in quietly, but their ambition is to influence the queen to rule in their favor. I see a nightmare coming if we don’t stop it. Soon, I fear it will be too late.”

Rafe told him of the ongoing battle in the Legislature. Certain men were pushing for the queen to grant an individual right to one opium supplier, who, in turn would then pour money into the Hawaiian treasure chest—alleviating some problems for Liliuokalani to pay the Island bills.

“The trouble is that the treasure chest was looted and spent by Kalakaua and Walter Murray Gibson in their time, and there’s no reason why new and greedy hands won’t loot it again. So Hawaii is left teetering on a crumbling foundation of debt,” Rafe told him. “The queen is dancing around the issue. She’s claiming she doesn’t support the opium law, that her cabinet supports it, but in her next breath she’s asserting her sovereignty to make a new Constitution.

“You can’t have it both ways. But as we know, crying crocodile tears is the way of all politicians—and queens, by the way. Her supporters are pushing for the passage of the opium bill, and members of the Reform Party are fighting to stop ratification. We were able to vote it down again last week, but they’ll be back in their huddle with the queen, trying to find new tricks to wiggle it through the Legislature.”

Ambrose’s frown deepened. “I’ve been a quiet supporter of the Hawaiian monarchy.”

“I know you have,” Rafe said with a wry smile.

“I’m not one for removing the old landmarks, or overthrowing governments unless—well, that is a difficult decision, isn’t it? After the fact, however, I support the American Revolution against the British Government. However, at the time?” he pondered, and rubbed his chin. “I wonder if I would have done so. Then, the Civil War of 1860—a nation divided with sound arguments on both sides. Well, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. We have enough to plague us now, and a revolution on the wind. I feel that I must decide based on my best interpretation of Scripture. Nora has nudged me for months to take a public stand for Liliuokalani, and so have Noelani and Eden.”

Eden.
Rafe drummed his fingers on the table. “And are you?”

Ambrose paused. “I don’t know yet, Rafe, and that’s the truth. Nora called on me just a few days ago. I told her my concerns on this question over opium and gambling. She insisted it was a lie hatched by Thurston’s gang of annexationists.”

“I suppose I’m a member of this gang?” Rafe said.

“Nora didn’t mention you but she is upset you’re in the Reform Party. She continues to mourn the old days when you worked for the
Gazette
and wrote articles in favor of the monarchy. So, Rafe, I cannot in Christian conscience support a monarchy that looks the other way over opium. Hawaii can’t know the blessing of a righteous God if we embrace vices contrary to His wisdom.

“I’ve told Nora and Noelani that for now I’m staying out of the political fight. I’m reserving the pulpit for teaching God’s Word, as the pulpit is meant to be used.”

Rafe nodded. He respected this decision.

“I’ll keep you informed on the opium bill,” Rafe said. “And now I must get back to my hotel room. Keno is coming over to sign some papers on Hawaiiana. Then I need to take them to Parker to get his signature.”

Ambrose walked with him to the door. “I won’t ask about you and Eden.”

“Good,” Rafe said. “Because there’s no chance of that, Ambrose.”

“When will you tell me what it’s all about? What happened between you two? An angry man is toying with fire, Son. You know that.”

Rafe hesitated.

“I can’t talk about it,” he said. “Don’t ask me. I’m not ready … goodnight—see you tomorrow. Tell Noelani thanks again for the wonderful supper.”

Ambrose looked after him thoughtfully. The impenetrable armor was back in place more secure than ever. Rafe had worn it for years when growing up under Townsend, and it had taken even more years for Rafe to put it aside. What had happened between him and Eden that had hardened him?

Neither of the two would talk about it with him, which was unusual. Both Rafe and Eden had often sought his advice in their own way and now, Rafe avoided the old chats they used to have. Ambrose frowned. He missed them. He hated to see his nephew like this. Satan had gotten some strong jabs in recently, beginning with Townsend. Rafe even avoided discussions with Keno.

Eden, too, merely changed the subject or busied herself when he spoke of Rafe. But Ambrose was not fooled. They were hurting deeply.

Ambrose thought about Miss Judson. There’d been nothing but contention since that young woman showed herself in Honolulu. Nor did Ambrose believe Rafe was in love with her.

He walked thoughtfully to his little study to read Scripture and pray for God’s intervention in the lives of two of his most cherished spiritual “children.”

Great-aunt Nora was sitting at a desk in her room at Kea Lani when Eden arrived from the
Gazette.
Her thin, pale hands clutched a pen, and she had some papers in front of her. She put them aside in a folder when Eden entered the room.

Eden leaned over to plant a kiss on the wrinkled cheek. “How is your health, Madame?”

Nora smiled wanly. “Hello dear. Oh, I’m fine. I’ve a room at the Royal hotel again. I’m working up courage to call on Rafe. Perhaps this evening.” She looked at Eden. “Care to accompany me?”

“Not if my life depended on it.”

Nora’s silvery eyebrows climbed. “Oh, my, and here I was prepared to share some unpleasant news … I think I shall wait until we have tea.”

“I don’t want any more unpleasant news, Aunt. And I do not want to hear anything about Rafe Easton.”

“No, of course you don’t, poor dear. He can be a scoundrel, can’t he? However, I believe with Candace that he’s deliberately acting his part.”

“Oh I’m sure he is. He finds the part fits him so well that he’s enjoying it,” Eden said. “He was out across the street near the government building this morning, paying homage to the Princess Bernice.”

“Well, as you say, never mind that now. But I do need a loan or it will be the end of the
Gazette.
I’ve held out financially for several years, and I’ve come to my empty flour barrel. If the Lord doesn’t help me get a loan, no one can. And now! Enough of my lamentation. What have you put together on Rebecca’s journal?”

Eden sat down to read it to her. The dramatic part of the personal saga was in telling how her mother’s own husband had broken the news to her.

Later, when Eden stopped reading, Nora wiped her eyes and shook her head, looking into the distance. “I never knew the cost, never stopped to consider how much pain those two young people went through. I’m afraid I was willing to stand aside and keep my emotional distance. It’s all coming home to my heart, Eden. I feel ashamed of myself.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Nora. You could have done little anyway.”

“Perhaps … then again, perhaps I could have done something that would have brought blessing. Ah, life. So many mistakes, regrets, and wishing otherwise.”

“Only God knows. But let us go on.
‘Forgetting those things that are behind, and reaching toward what lays ahead.’
”

“At least I can put her journal in installments in the
Gazette.
This story may do so much to help others. We shall do what we can today. Today,” she repeated. “Today is really all we have. Tomorrow is not ours yet and may slip away. While yesterday is already lived, for better or for worse.”

Eden made up her mind to do all she could to save the
Gazette.
No, she wasn’t going to Rafe, but there was one last man she could see about gaining help for her great-aunt. He had authority, money, and he was polite. The man was Parker Judson. Yes, she would brave the lion’s den and confront him over his niece desiring to buy Tamarind House in an exchange for a loan to Nora.

The whole suggestive offer from Bernice was selfish and even cruel. If Parker Judson was the man she had always been told he was, he would not let Bernice own Tamarind, and he would offer Miss Nora Derrington, a fine elderly lady, money to save her little news journal.