“I’ll ask how long the captain thinks we’ll be,” he said.
Just ahead a whale announced his presence with a puff of air that rang like a kettledrum and an iridescent spout of vapor that hung in the air like a magic mist. “Aloha, kohola,” Hannah greeted the animal. “Are you going to Maui? Will you show us the way?”
Halfway across, Kaiulani and Hannah huddled in their cloaks to sit close together on the deck. Kaiulani leaned back against Andrew as he sheltered them from the cold, and she slept with the greatest contentment since returning to Hawaii.
Almost before she knew it, the West Maui Mountains were blocking a swath of the eastern heavens and the lights of Lahaina loomed ahead. “We could have landed on the south shore and taken the old wagon road to King David’s place,” Andrew said. “But this way even if someone talks about two women coming ashore off a ship, they won’t know where we went from there.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Three saddle mounts and a packhorse already loaded with supplies waited at a stable on the outskirts of Lahaina.
Hannah and Kaiulani kept their features obscured within the depths of their hooded cloaks. Long before the sun climbed above Haleakela, the party of riders, with Andrew leading the pack animal, was well clear of the town.
Kaiulani heard Andrew ask directions to Kahana, a village north of Lahaina. Their destination was really far to the southeast.
They rode at a slow but steady pace. Showing too much haste would arouse suspicion. Circling the cape called Olawalu, they crossed barren, dry land, inhabited only by workers in the cane fields.
Their travel kept them near sea level. A pod of whales paced them for a time, breaching and splashing as if to encourage the land-bound travelers. “Do you suppose…one of them…is the same whale we saw…last night?”
Hannah’s halting words caused Kaiulani concern.
Hannah saw and shook off her worry. “I’ll be better…soon as you…are safe.”
Crossing Maui’s central valley, the trio began the steep ascent of Haleakela’s flank. Ten thousand feet high at its summit, the dormant volcano called the House of the Sun dominated the skyline like the side of an ocean liner seen from its waterline.
The heavy cloaks, discarded in the heat of the valley and tied behind the saddles, were soon pressed into service again. They climbed from cane fields and red earth into the regions of pastureland and black lava-rock. The temperature rapidly cooled. Purple cascades of jacaranda trees gave way to red-blossomed acacia and soon after to cleanly scented groves of pine.
And still they ascended. The journey from Lahaina to Ulupalakua, though begun before sunrise, would take all day. They pressed ahead with few pauses.
Hannah nodded in the saddle. Fearful her friend would fall, Kaiulani called to Andrew, “We need to stop. We need rest.”
Hannah roused from her doze. “Not on my account.”
Kaiulani insisted, “We’re stopping here.”
“It’s time,” Andrew agreed.
The princess uncorked the canteen looped over the horn of her saddle and took a long drink, then offered the container to Hannah. “No,” Hannah replied, “don’t need it yet. Let’s go on now.”
They set out again, single file, up the narrow trail. Kaiulani led the way, and Andrew brought up the rear, with Hannah in the middle of the string. Kaiulani glanced back to check and saw Hannah take a drink from her own canteen.
All of Maui’s central valley lay spread below them. Checkerboard squares of cane fields made the distant landscape appear to be a well-groomed English lawn. From this elevation Kaiulani saw both shores of the island and beyond. Not even halfway in their ascent, the lowlands of Maui seemed as if a single large wave could rush across the island from north shore to south.
Whales breaching in the channel beside the submerged volcanic cone of Molokini were no more than stray white threads on a blue quilt. Kaiulani sighed with the remoteness of the place. This was so far removed from Honolulu and politics and danger. Apart from concern for Hannah, Kaiulani felt her spirits lift the way the translucent clouds forming on the sea floated upward toward the House of the Sun.
If only Andrew could stay at Ulupalakua with them, Kaiulani thought.
Where had that notion come from? Kaiulani reprimanded herself. This was an escape from real evil—not the plot of a romantic story. Andrew was helping her deal with real wickedness. He was not the hero of a novel, like Dick Shelton in The Black Arrow or Rudolf Rassendyll in The Prisoner of Zenda. Besides, he was their link to the outside world, to news, to supplies and to Papa. He couldn’t remain with them, even if such a thing were proper.
Kaiulani shoved the thought away but, unbidden, it continued to plague her all the rest of the ride to Ulupalakua.
Hannah, despite her protests, was completely exhausted by the time they reached the white-painted frame house amid the towering trees. She was pale and shaking.
Andrew lifted her off the horse. She could not stand, so he carried her into the house. Kaiulani swept aside a sheet covering a sofa so Andrew could lay Hannah there. “Princess,” he addressed her formally, “if you’ll build a fire, I’ll bring in the supplies and see to the horses. Then I’ll come help you open up the house.”
Wrapped in a blanket, Hannah shivered as Kaiulani put a match to the kindling already prepared on the hearth. Who had made this provision for their need? Was this fire laid when her uncle, the king, was still living? When Kaiulani and Hannah and Andrew had all still been in England?
When the monarchy was yet sound and the future all soirees and ball gowns?
Andrew came in carrying a canvas-wrapped bundle of provisions. “There’s enough here for two weeks, but I’ll be back in one.”
“You won’t—” Kaiulani glanced at Hannah to see her friend was sleeping, then resumed. “You won’t try to ride down tonight, will you? The trail is so treacherous in places.”
“I thought I’d sleep in the barn,” Andrew admitted.
“You will not,” Kaiulani corrected forcefully. “We’ll move Hannah to bed, and you shall sleep on the sofa.”
Andrew grinned. “As Your Majesty commands, but I smell like horse. Which, by the way, I still have to unsaddle and turn into the pasture.”
Kaiulani caught him before his booted steps left the porch. The crescent of a two-day-old moon hung above the waves to the west. Throwing her arms around Andrew’s neck, she kissed him, soundly, vigorously.
And he returned the kiss with fervor.
“The horses,” he said in a husky voice. “They…I…”
“Go on,” Kaiulani said, giving him a playful shove. “I know you won’t believe it, but I know how to cook. I’ll have supper started by the time you get back.”
* * * *
The frame house creaked in the wind swirling down from Haleakela’s summit like a sailing ship running headlong into a crashing sea. Her timbers groaned and sighed. The coals on the hearth glowed with new life when a downdraft in the chimney touched them.
The same way something in Kaiulani was sparked by Andrew’s touch.
Kaiulani was unable to sleep. Settled in the king’s bedroom, her thoughts ranged from what was happening back in Honolulu to Hannah resting in the adjacent chamber.
Always, her musings came back to Andrew on the sofa. It was impossible to believe they had ever been enemies. Ever since the night Andrew met the Lord, he had been Kaiulani’s truest, most devoted friend. Far more important than Clive’s grand declarations, Andrew offered practical help and guidance.
Tonight’s kiss had awakened desire within her. Once released, it was impossible to call back. She could still taste his lips, feel his arms.
In the same strong-minded, direct way she made all decisions, she wanted him to stay near…always.
But the strength of her desire frightened her. Could she abandon her people, her duty, to run away with Andrew? What if she wrote a letter of farewell to the queen? Could a princess abdicate? Could Kaiulani stop being royal and j
ust live?
She wanted to put herself before Andrew and ask him to help her choose. For once in her life, she actually wanted the choice to be made for her. She wanted him to fold her in his arms and declare he would never, ever let her go.
A mourning dove cooed softly in the folds of the Chinese jasmine outside the window. She should go check on Hannah, Kaiulani told herself. She should see that her friend was covered up properly.
Of course, if she walked a few steps farther, out into the reception room, she would be beside Andrew. It would not be proper to do such a thing, but hadn’t he wrapped her up and kept her warm on the schooner crossing from Oahu?
Should convention and propriety keep her from doing the same for him?
Hannah was sound asleep, perfectly cocooned in blankets.
Kaiulani knew she should go immediately back to her bed; knew she was traveling a dangerous road.
She felt herself being drawn to the sofa as a magnet draws iron. Her breathing quickened as she drew nearer and nearer to where he lay.
Only…he wasn’t there. Blankets neatly folded on the sofa and boots missing from beside the front door, Andrew had risen in the night and left.
Andrew left without even saying good-bye? After tonight’s kiss?
Clearly he did not have the same feelings for her that she had mistakenly had for him.
Kaiulani dashed back to her bed and crawled beneath the covers. Closing her eyes, she prayed that every thought of him would vanish before morning.
* * * *
1973
From the veranda of her room, Sandi enjoyed the ocean view and a cool afternoon breeze. Auntie Hannah was napping after her lunch, serenaded by some forgotten crooner on her gramophone. After the record was over, the gentle, rhythmic hissing from the machine’s idle spin continued, wafting to Sandi’s ears. She raised the last sheet from a neatly compiled stack of letters from Andrew to Kaiulani and began to read.
Dearest Princess,
Even as I write this letter, I am preparing for another journey on your behalf. Knowing I will soon be in your presence again, and how I feel whenever I am, I cannot contain the truth of those feelings any longer.
Kaiulani, I love you. I believe I have since I first met you, but for propriety’s sake, for the sake of our friendship and your office, I hoped I might have the strength to love you from a distance. But the darkening of my days in your absence has forced me to admit that this will never be enough. I must be with you for all time.
I cannot deny the imprudence of this feeling, and for that I am ashamed. Neither do I know how such a love might survive, were you to bless me with requital. You are, after all, ordained in your station by our Sovereign King and I, your humble subject.
Yet, it must be. For without you, I am not merely alone. Without you, I am not.
I tremble at the idea of my clumsy declaration falling under your gaze. Can you see how my hand shakes? For if you are wise, and I know you are, you must spurn such passion as irrational and impossible.
But if I am loved at all by God, then your love will surely follow. For He cannot have put in me such sacred devotion to you, without He also…
“Well, way to go, Andrew!” Sandi applauded. “You finally got around to telling her, buddy.”
A knock sounded from the interior of the hotel, but Sandi realized it was on Auntie Hannah’s door. She laid the letter aside and listened as the old woman rose slowly from her bed and shuffled toward it. The latch popped and the hinges squeaked as she pulled the door open for some unseen guest.
Sandi heard voices but couldn’t make out what they said. The conversation was brief, and Hannah’s door closed again within seconds. Before Sandi could resume her reading, though, the rapping fell on her own door.
She gathered the precious papers and brought them inside the room, laying the stack on the bed. Glancing quickly at her reflection in the bathroom, she pressed a few strands of windblown hair back into place and padded to the door.
Before she could reach the knob, the knock repeated. “Coming,” she called sweetly, sure it was Joe or his wife, Emma, bringing her some afternoon snack.
The reality waiting outside her room made her vision swim and her knees weak. Two men, both in army dress uniforms, stood in front of her door, their caps tucked under their arms. Auntie Hannah stood just behind them.
“Are you Missus Sandi Smith of Westwood, California?” one asked. “Wife of Private John Smith?” His uniform identified him as a captain.
No, she wanted to scream, no, I’m not! She’d had such a visit before, when they first told her John was missing in action. It was terrible then, but missing was preferable to… She gulped and nodded.
“Missus Smith, I am Captain Aaron Roberts from A Company, Second Battalion, Twenty-Fifth Infantry, Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. The Secretary of the Army has asked me to express his deep regret that your husband is believed to have been killed in action in March of 1970 while escaping from a prisoner-of-war camp.”
“Believed?” Sandi asked, clinging desperately to the thinnest hope of a mistake implied in the word.
The captain cleared his throat. “Another soldier who was in the camp with John positively identified his photo this week. He says he’s buried near where they were held.”
“Oh, God.” Sandi stumbled backward into her room. Bumping into the bed, she slid to the floor, clutching her face in her hands. The men and Auntie Hannah all followed her in. “Is there something we can get you, ma’am?” Roberts asked, echoed by the other man. “Do you need a glass of water?”
Sandi just shook her head as Auntie Hannah patted her shoulder. “My poor dear,” offered the old woman.
Roberts spoke again. “The Secretary extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your tragic loss.”
There were so many questions that lingered in her mind. She never imagined that it would end this way. If ever she’d allowed herself to contemplate his death, she always thought he’d be returned to her, for a proper burial. “What”—she tried to ask—“will he…come home?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have that information. Now that we know where you’re staying, you’ll receive more information as soon as it becomes available.”
“Missus Smith.” The other man spoke up. “Is there anyone else you’d like us to be in touch with on your behalf? Any calls I can make?”
Sandi’s parents flashed through her mind. It was so hard hearing the news herself, she certainly didn’t want to think about having to inflict it on anyone else. But she couldn’t pass that off on these men.
Distantly, as if detached from her own anguished tears, she briefly considered the difficult job these men had to do. She wondered how often they were called upon to make such tragic visits and if they felt each family’s grief compounding, day after day.
“Thank you,” she croaked meekly, “for coming.”
The response was unexpected, and the men glanced at each other, as if trying to decide how to answer. Roberts spoke first. “I am truly sorry for your loss, Missus Smith.”
They turned in silence and left, closing the door behind them.
Auntie Hannah knelt wearily next to Sandi and hugged her, rocking her gently.
Sandi whispered, “I dreamed about him. He came to me. Oh! I think I knew when I saw him. He told me he was home. I didn’t know what he meant. I should have known!” She began to sob quietly.
Auntie Hannah held her close and stroked her hair. “There is a saying among my people: Aloha me ka paumake. It means, ‘My love is with the one who is done with dying.’ ”
Chapter Twenty-six
U.S. Territory of Hawaii, 1898
Along the eastern border of Ulupalakua was a mountain stream. Bursting out of the heart of Haleakela, high up the volcano’s mossy, green hide, the creek bubbled to the sea.
Just now the stream’s passage was disrupted by Kaiulani’s feet dangling in the current. She and Hannah sat atop a lava stone wall.
“I’m run
ning away by being here,” Kaiulani said.
Hannah turned her face toward the sun, as if to absorb strength with its warming rays. “If you hadn’t come, you would be arrested, or dead.”
Kaiulani studied their reflections in the water. They were so alike, in body and heart. “Sometimes, when I let myself think about what is happening, my heart is so heavy. Thurston and his men. They have stolen the joy, the soul of our people.”
Hannah raised her eyes heavenward. “What they have stolen, they took from the Lord. They have no fear of Him, Kaiulani. And so God Himself will personally deal with them.”