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Authors: Catherine Palmer

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“The Aberdares are not far. We can reach the place in a week.”

“Adam will send his men to fetch the gold. I shall start for the waterfall immediately.” She clenched the letter. “Who would dare to kidnap the daughter of Godfrey Pickering?”

“Germans, no doubt. Look at this warning.
Do not involve the government in any way.
But that is just what they want you to do.”

“Create an international incident?”

“Yes. They want to provoke the English into commencing hostilities.”

“I shall not tell anyone, and you must promise as well. I shall follow these instructions to the smallest detail.”

Nicholas’s smile was tender. “Dearest Emmaline, I had no doubt you would do everything in your power to save your sister. I’ll assist you in every way.”

“You are too good.”

“But I must beg you not to give over the ransom.”

“Not ransom my sister? How can you ask that?”

“I believe Adam King and his German conspirators are behind this. They will use the gold against the British government. Come away with me, Emmaline. Allow me to find your sister for you and spare you the cost.”

He took her hands. “I love you, Emmaline. Surely you can see that. Leave Adam King—break your pact with him—and become my wife. I am asking you now to marry me. Will you make me the happiest man in the world?”

“Nicholas, I am…I’m touched by your endearment.” She managed to fumble out the words. “But I shall never disregard the instructions in this letter. And I certainly cannot think beyond it to any future, with you or anyone. I must find my sister.”

He nodded. “I expected such a response and I accept it. Of course I shall take you to the Aberdares. I’ve brought my most trusted men. They will return to Tsavo and telegraph the bank. But it is a great sum, Emmaline.”

“I have it. There’s nothing I shan’t do to rescue Cissy. Oh, I do hope she has been treated kindly. If they have hurt her…or abused her…”

Emma covered her mouth with her hand. At once, Nicholas took her in his arms.

“Emmaline, my love, do not make yourself ill. The Germans want the gold. They want an incident. Harming your sister would serve no purpose. You must believe she is all right.”

“What’s going on here?”

Surprised, Emma looked up to find Adam glaring at Nicholas from his horse. In an instant he had dismounted and was striding toward them.

“What are you doing on my land, Bond?” He took Emma by the arm, turning her to expose the bloodstained clothing.

“Oh, no, Adam, it’s not what you think. I’ve been working.” She gestured at the little house, then waved it off. “But look at this. I’ve had a message from Cissy’s kidnappers.”

“Kidnappers? Give me that.” Adam scanned the letter. “You believe this, Emma?”

“Of course I do. Who would invent such a lie? And to what purpose?”

“Reads like something out of a mystery novel. The protectorate is filled with hardworking men, not criminals. No one’s ever been kidnapped. And who even knew your sister would be here? This thing took some scheming.”

Emma stared at Adam in disbelief. How could he expect her to do anything but obey the letter—even if it were a hoax, even if he himself were behind it?

“I don’t care what you think,” she told him. “I will get the gold and wait for my sister to come out of the forest.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then I shall lose the money. It’s a chance I must take.”

Adam stared at the ground for a moment. Then he turned on Nicholas. “Where did you get this letter, Bond?”

“An African brought it to the station at Tsavo yesterday evening. I came at once.”

“I’m sure you did. What kind of an African was he?”

Nicholas scowled. “What do you mean?”

“What tribe?” Adam barked.

“How should I know? They’re all the same to me.”

“What difference can it make?” Emma took the letter from Adam and slipped it into her pocket.

“The tribe would give us a clue where Cissy might be.” He took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “Emma, I don’t believe anyone’s holding your sister. But I’ll send Soapy after the gold, and we’ll head for the Aberdares. When these kidnappers—if there are any—come out to get the gold, we’ll surround them.”

“No, Adam!” Emma caught his arm. “I must do as they say or they might kill Cissy.”

“She’s right, King.” Nicholas bristled. “Don’t try to use
your cowboy heroics. You’ll only get people killed. I shall escort Emmaline to the Aberdares. You’re not needed, so just stay here with your cows.”

“Get off my property, Bond.” Adam reached for the rifle on his saddle, but before Emma could stop him she saw Nicholas suddenly go completely white. The blood rushed from his face, and his eyelids flew open as if he were seeing a ghost.

“Nicholas?” Emma started toward him, afraid that he was having an attack much like her father’s. But Adam caught her arm. She followed the direction of Nicholas’s shocked stare.

Silhouetted in the sunlit doorway of the little house stood what might easily have been a ghost. Tolito leaned against the frame, his clothing spattered with blood, his face thin and wasted with pain. But most astonishing was the glare of hatred in his eyes.

“Go,” Tolito commanded.

Nicholas took a step backward. “That’s…that’s not…”

“You know me.” The man in the doorway straightened. “I am Tolito.”

“It can’t be,” Nicholas whispered.

“You know each other?” Emma asked.

“They’ve met.” Adam untied Nicholas’s horse.

His face wan, Nicholas gestured to Emma. “Come with me. I’ll take you to find your sister.”

She hesitated only a moment, listening to the whispered voice of her heart. “I shall go to the Aberdares with Adam. But when I have found Cissy, I’ll return to Mombasa and discuss your proposal.”

“No, Emmaline, don’t make the wrong choice.” His words were calm enough, but then he made a choking sound.

Now Linde stood in the doorway beside Tolito. She had changed into a vibrant purple dress with a flaming-red shawl.
Her hair draped around her shoulders like a thick cape of lustrous silk. Her dark eyes sparked as she stepped out onto the verandah and raised a bronzed arm.

“Go, evil spirit,” she commanded. “Leave us or be cursed forever.”

Nicholas turned to Adam. “I shall do everything in my power to bring about your downfall. Everything.”

“And if I see you on my land again, you’re dead.”

Escaping the charged atmosphere, Emma started up the hill toward the big house. But with each step she took, she realized she had chosen to follow her heart. And her heart was held captive in the strong hands of a man with eyes the color of the African sky. A man she still wasn’t sure she could trust.

Chapter Seventeen

A
dam stopped at the doorway to Emma’s room. She was packing a trunk and she looked up when he called her name.

“Soapy’s at the stables,” he said, noting how weary she looked. “I’m sending him to Tsavo alone. He’ll ride faster that way. He’s a crack shot and he’ll guard your gold with his life.”

“But I must catch him before he goes!” She brushed past Adam, gathered her skirts and started up the hill.

He followed, overtaking her halfway there. Soapy had just ridden out of the barn, an extra horse tethered to his roan. Emma signaled with a wave.

“Mr. Richards won’t give you the gold unless you have a sign from me,” she told him. Adam watched as she worked the brass ring free from her finger.

Breathless, she handed it to Soapy. “Telegraph the bank in Mombasa my orders to send two thousand pounds in gold immediately to Tsavo station. Tell Mr. Richards the brass ring will arrive on the next train. You must tell him it’s urgent. He mustn’t wait for the ring.”

“There’s only one train, ma’am. It’ll be in Mombasa by the time I ride into Tsavo. I’ll make sure the bank loads your gold
before the train heads back up country. But if I don’t get to Tsavo before the train leaves the coast, you ain’t gonna get your gold in time to save your sister.”

“Ride like lightning, Soapy,” Adam ordered.

“Yes, sir.” He held up the ring. “But what about this? Should I wait to put it on the train myself?”

“Give it to someone else,” Adam growled. It was clear how much the ring—and their words of love—meant to Emma. “That thing isn’t worth a pile of corn shucks anyhow.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Soapy tucked the ring into the breast pocket of his shirt and smiled at Emma. “Don’t worry your purty head, ma’am. I’ll get that gold to you if it near kills me. My word is as good as a hangman’s knot.”

With that, Soapy spurred his horse down the hill toward the plains. Adam watched until his friend was no more than a speck moving across a sea of golden grass.

“You ready to go?” Unable to prevent the brusque tone of his voice, Adam started toward the house.

Emma hurried after him. “What about Tolito?”

“I ordered my foreman to take him to Tsavo when he’s fit enough. Linde will ride the train with him to Mombasa.”

“Thank you, Adam.” She tried to slip past him as he held open the door to the house, but he caught her wrist.

“Why didn’t you go with Bond?”

Her green eyes were depthless as they met his. “More important, how does Mr. Bond know Tolito?”

“You don’t need to know that, Emma. It’s history.”

She freed her hand from his grip. “And you don’t need to know my motivations. We each have our secrets, haven’t we, Adam? That’s what keeps us safely apart.”

“Your inability to trust me keeps us apart.”

“Should I trust you?”

“You should trust what I told you the other night,” he answered. “You should trust that I love you.”

“If you love me,” she said quietly, “help me find my sister.”

 

They rode alone. No wagon train would slow them this time, no heavy supplies, no plodding oxen. Adam rode his black stallion, Emma the red mare. They took only what they could carry in saddlebags.

For three days they journeyed toward the fertile highlands. The land changed from dry, shimmering grasslands teeming with wildlife to green hills dotted with trees.

“Coffee and tea country,” Adam remarked. “Colonists are crowding these hills, running off animals and pushing Africans into tribal reserves. The English will profit no matter the cost.”

“Will Nairobi be built nearby?” They had stopped to drink at a cold stream. Emma dipped her hands into the bracing water and took a sip.

“Right about here, I’d imagine.” Adam studied Emma on the mossy stream bank. Wild passion fruit vines tumbled over the ground, and bird of paradise flowers bloomed in profusion. He could almost see the lush foliage give way to a bustling city with gray stone buildings, paved streets, courts of law, restaurants, rows of houses. And bursting onto the scene, the hissing steam locomotive of the British East African Railway.

“It would be a lovely place for a home,” Emma said, rising to brush moss from her skirt.

She was buoyant now, anticipating her sister. It was all she wanted. But he was not so easily satisfied. Emma had brought a sort of magic to his life. The future presented itself not just in terms of cattle, fences and coconut palms. With her talk of following God, her sweet innocence, her tender care for the hurting, Adam felt a new warmth, a hope for companionship and love.

But Emma didn’t trust him. She had never admitted any desire to be with him after she found her sister. Instead, she planned to be a nurse at an outpost mission hospital, her world filled with patients and medicines instead of a home and family.

Adam took off his hat and studied the leather band around the crown as he lifted up a prayer. God was listening, he trusted that now. He had found a Bible while rooting in the old medicine trunk. As he thumbed through it, he understood what Emma had told him. The Creator of the universe took note of everything—even a simple cowboy with a hurting heart. But did God want Adam to let Emma go, this woman who had been sent to Africa to fulfill a mission? He waited for an answer but heard nothing except the gurgling stream.

“Adam, what is this flower?” She drifted toward him, a pink blossom cupped in her palms. “Such a rich perfume.”

“It’s a frangipani.”

They had shared a kiss, tender words of love. Did that mean nothing? Did God expect Adam to walk away—when even now he struggled to keep from taking her in his arms? But Emma’s holy calling superseded common human passion. Adam knew he must accept that and back away.

“Before we go, Adam,” she said, “I want to thank you for helping me. I didn’t know how much I was asking.”

“I was glad to do it.” He turned to his horse, but she caught his arm.

“And thank you for teaching me about this country. The language and the animals and people. I shall never forget what you did.”

“No trouble. I’d have done it for anyone.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“You’ll always be welcome at my ranch or at the beach
house.” He stroked away a strand of hair that had blown across her cheek. “You know that.”

“I should like to visit. Your life will be back to normal soon. You can wear your gun again without me protesting. And it won’t be long before Clarissa—”

He cut short her words with a kiss. His hands found her arms and drew her close. She leaned into him, her arms twining around his neck, her fingers weaving through his hair.

“Oh, Adam, I can’t think of anything but you,” she whispered. “Even poor Cissy is—”

“Wait.” He drew back, listening for the tinkling sound he had heard a moment earlier. It came again—a giggle, and then another.

“Karibu.”
He spoke the word of welcome.

Like shy kittens, three African girls emerged from a thicket. Each carried a bundle of sticks on her back.

“They’re from the Kikuyu tribe,” he said, stepping away from Emma. “Maybe they can tell us how to find the waterfall with the cave.”

He spoke some of the Kikuyu words he knew, using his hands to signal his meaning. One of the girls responded by pointing toward two jagged peaks that jutted into the sky.

“Batian and Nelian. The twin peaks of Kenya Mountain.” He fixed his attention on the shimmering vision.

“Is the waterfall near?” she asked as the girls slipped away.

“If we travel toward the mountain, we’ll come to the Aberdares and the falls. A fig tree stands at the base of a hidden gorge where a stream flows into a pool of water. The waterfall and the cave are above it.”

“If the moon isn’t shadowed by clouds,” Emma said, “we can ride most of the night.”

“We ought to be there by morning.” He stepped toward his
horse. “The girl warned that evil spirits live in the cave. Said we shouldn’t go near the gorge.”

“How odd. Tolito insisted that Nicholas Bond had cursed him with an evil spirit. Such a ridiculous notion.”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t believe in evil spirits, do you?”

“I took you for a Bible reader, Emma.” He stepped into the stirrup and mounted his stallion. “Jesus cast out evil spirits everywhere He went. I seem to recall one time He sent a whole gang of them into a herd of pigs.”

“Oh,” she said, going pale. “You’re quite right, of course.”

“Time to move out,” he announced, turning his horse. “Let’s go find your sister.”

 

After hours of trekking through thick bush, Adam and Emma finally had to dismount and lead their horses. They slogged through ankle-deep mud down steep gullies and into icy streams. Emma began to believe the whole land was cursed by an evil spirit.

The rainforest was mostly quiet through the day, but as evening lowered its dusky head, it came to life. Bush babies gaped with huge glowing brown eyes. Birds shrieked and bats fluttered by. A shy dik-dik—the tiniest of antelopes—peered at them with a minuscule face and horns smaller than a pen. Most startling to Emma was the small furry hyrax, whose shrill cry mimicked the wail of an abandoned child.

At midnight Adam insisted they stop. They huddled into the curved roots of a huge tree. They spoke little, too tired for the effort. Emma slept on Adam’s shoulder, but he kept watch until dawn.

In the early morning when tendrils of mist curled over rocks and between fern fronds, they began the last leg of their
trek. The horses struggled for footing in the mud, and Emma could not imagine how Soapy would ever arrive with a chest of heavy gold.

The sun had burned away the mist when Adam halted beside a stream. Emma looked up at a towering fig tree. In the distance a waterfall gurgled.

“I believe we’re here,” he said. “We’ll camp near the falls.”

“Today is a week from the date on the message. They will expect us to make the trade for Cissy.”

“There’s nothing we can do until Soapy gets here. If anyone is around, they’ve already seen us.”

“Do you still doubt the letter Nicholas brought?”

“Do you still doubt me?”

She had to look away. “I don’t know what to believe.”

If Adam had plotted with the German forces, might Dirk Bauer be part of the scheme? Had Cissy been with him all these days, shivering in the cold forest and heartbroken by his treachery?

As she slogged through the mud, Emma wondered if the dense green foliage hid her sister. Could Cissy be watching her right now? Battling the urge to call out, Emma waded across the chilly stream and up the bank on the other side.

Deep in the heart of the gorge, vine-covered tree limbs arched overhead like Aunt Prue’s lace-gloved fingers. The sky was a ragged ribbon of deep blue that clouded to gray as it began to rain.

Adam led Emma around a bend in the ravine. Emerging into a clearing, both stopped and looked up at a torrent rushing over a lip of rock. The plummeting water scoured a face of smooth black stone until it calmed at last in a bubbling pool. From there it slipped into the narrow stream they had followed up from the fig tree.

“Do you see a cave?” Emma asked. Even though the crashing water blocked every other noise, her words seemed loud.

Adam pointed toward the cascade, and she followed the line of his finger until she spotted a deep black maw halfway up the side of the ravine. It would not be an easy climb.

“The wood’s probably damp,” he said, “but I’ll see if I can start a fire.”

“I hope Soapy arrives before dark. I don’t like the thought of staying here tonight.”

While Adam searched for dry wood and started a small fire, Emma sank into the long grass with relief. Her riding skirt was splattered with mud and her boots were caked. She wondered whether Cissy had lived in this damp jungle for many days. What would she have eaten? Who had protected her and kept her warm?

“Emma?” Adam touched her arm. “You all right?”

She nodded as he knelt beside her and held his hands before the flickering fire. They ate a little of the bread and cheese stored in their saddlebags. Curled beside him, Emma watched as the clearing deepened to emerald and the sky turned a dark rose. She drifted toward sleep, but a sudden sound jerked her awake.

Adam leaped to his feet and reached for the rifle hanging on his saddle. Then he stopped and began to grin. Emma struggled to stand on half-frozen legs. Below them in the gorge, a man with bright yellow hair guided two stumbling horses that pulled a small cart.

“Soapy!” Adam strode toward his friend. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, partner.”

“Just ’bout didn’t think I could do it, boss.” Soapy emerged into the clearing. “Them poor horses is nearly tuckered out. We had a time trekkin’ up these mountains. If you two hadn’t
trampled down the bushes in this gorge, we never would’ve made it. Anyway, here she be.”

Emma touched the chest. Her father’s gold—her gold now. She would gladly give it all away to have Cissy safe and well.

“We must take this to the cave at once.” She looked into Adam’s blue eyes. “It’s almost dark, and I must keep Cissy from another night of misery.”

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