Jewel of the Pacific (4 page)

Ling opened the front door and Ambrose entered, drenched with rain. He handed his dripping dark coat and hat to Ling with an apology.

Ambrose was a tall and solid man of sixty, with piercing deep-set eyes beneath a swath of silver-gray hair that in some places remained dark. His suntanned jaw was square and his stance resolute. He had always been there for her, Rafe, Keno, Zachary, and even her cousin Candace, so he seemed to never need anything.

Even in his wearied condition, Ambrose’s presence brought a feeling of security into the room. Eden rushed toward Ambrose and grasped his arm.

“Ambrose, I rode to the wharf earlier. One of the fishermen told me
two
men were missing last night after a terrible brawl. Where is Rafe, and Keno?”

Ambrose was somber. “Keno is safe. So is Zachary. There is distressing news, though. We need to talk about it, lass.”

She met his sympathetic gaze. She was seized with an uncomfortable notion that “something more” had entered the door behind Ambrose.
Something
spiritual trailing after his steps. Some dark, slippery “thing” she couldn’t see, but
sensed
, tracking in slime, and then backing into a shadowy corner, searching for an opportunity to strike.

Eden must have paled because Ambrose laid a firm hand on her shoulder. “Now lass you must be strong. Let’s find a place to sit so we can talk sensibly.”

“Not in there,” she said as he started for the parlor, “the room is in rubble.”

Like everything
, she wanted to add.

She took him to the luncheon room. When they were seated at the square, wood table, Eden looked straight at Ambrose.

“Is he … is … Rafe dead?”

Ambrose reached across the table and patted her hand. “He was alive when I left him. He’s in Honolulu, at the medical ward, seriously injured. Your father is the physician and is in touch with Dr. Bolton and others. Dr. Bolton is now a declared leper, unable to enter the ward where Rafe is being watched. Jerome tells me Rafe will be unconscious for at least 24 hours, and perhaps days.” His sober gaze fixed on her. “Being a nurse, Eden, you would understand comas.”

Eden frowned as she recalled what she knew about comas from her work at Kalihi hospital.

“Townsend shot him, is that it? And my father isn’t sure Rafe will survive.”

“Rafe wasn’t shot. There was a fight. Rafe was caught off guard, and Townsend struck him on the forehead with a brass bookend.”

She closed her eyes, as if that would make everything painful fade away. Her heart reached out to God in prayer.

She considered Ambrose’s words, “Alive when I left him.”

The news that Rafe was in a coma turned her hands cold, and she knew this was not his first. He might not awaken from a
second
concussion. Although Rafe had never given the details, he did tell her a year ago that he’d suffered a head injury on a voyage he’d made to French Guiana. As a result, he had frequent headaches.

Ambrose looked at her kindly. “I see you understand. We know, as does Keno, that Rafe is not a man to live in a chair or on his back. And yet,
what if life demands it?
Can we not say this outcome, too, is in God’s hand? We must rest in God’s character, in His wisdom, and sovereign purposes.”

The penetrating question
what if life demands it?
echoed in her mind. The answer Ambrose hoped she would see was clear:
many
chosen Christians had these demands placed upon their lives, or on the lives of loved ones.

“This is bitter,” she choked, swallowing the urge to weep. “Whether Rafe lives or dies, the outcome may bring little but the promise of tears … for all of us.”

“And bitter situations often bring no instant blessing to be seen within our earthly eyes. We are such people of clay that if we cannot soon know the purpose of our trials we quickly believe there is no meaningful reason for them. Most likely our understanding may not come until when we are in His presence. Even so, our Redeemer is merciful. So we will pray, and hope.”

Would she ever be Rafe’s wife now?

When Ling brought in the coffee and fruit, he paused. “May ask question?”

“Certainly, Ling,” Ambrose said.

Ling looked from Ambrose to Eden then back. “What of
Makua
Townsend? Evil man escape?”

Eden turned to Ambrose. “Yes, what about Townsend?”

Frowning, Ambrose admitted he had not been seen since he’d jumped overboard. Keno had gone after him, but Townsend had eluded him. Zachary, too, had searched the wharf, but then Zachary, too, had disappeared.

“Keno admits he didn’t search long for Townsend,” Ambrose said. “Rafe’s condition was on all our minds. It was urgent to get him to a doctor. Thankfully, by the time Keno returned to the boat, Liho arrived with a doctor from the village.”

“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.

D
awn 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 illegitimate 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.”