Kona Winds (6 page)

"He knows what time we have dinner. If he isn't here, we start without him," was the uncompromising answer.

"With the rain and all, he might be delayed by the weather." Julie didn't understand why she felt she had to make excuses for him.

"I've learned to expect Ruel when he arrives," Emily explained. "At thirty-five, he's much too old to be answering to me about his comings and goings."

"Does he drive to and from Honolulu every day?" Julie was curious.

"Practically," Emily Harmon led the way into the dining room.

"That must be tiring."

"He keeps an apartment in the city. If it's too late, he simply stays there."

Somehow Julie doubted that he always spent the night alone. She glanced around the dining room, so comfortable and elegant with its rich woods and glassed doorway, to the courtyard and swimming pool outside. Ruel Chandler not only had all the comforts of home, but a bachelor pad as well. He had his cake and was eating it, too.

Emily Harmon had noticed Julie's gaze stray outdoors. "I quite often have my evening meal on the lanai, especially if both Ruel and Deborah are away." Her lips thinned. "I hope this Kona weather doesn't last long."

"It has something to do with the winds, doesn't it?" asked Julie.

"The tradewinds come from the northeast. They're our predominant winds," her employer explained, "coming along with fair skies and sunshine. When the winds are from the south, it means rain and high humidity. No one likes to see the Kona winds come."

"Why are they called Kona winds?" That was the part Julie didn't understand.

"They take their name from the big island of Hawaii and its Kona coast. Since the big island lies south of Oahu, the winds coming from that direction are also coming from Kona, hence Kona winds."

Malia came in with the soup course and the discussion of the weather was put aside. Fresh fruit and cheese were served for dessert. Ruel Chandler still had not made an appearance. They had tea in the living room while Malia cleared the dining table.

"I think I'll go see Debbie," said Julie when she had finished her tea. "Do you mind?"

Emily Harmon glanced up from the magazine she was reading. "No, go right ahead."

The portable television set in the bedroom was on when Julie walked in. Debbie seemed surprised to see her, but the surprise quickly gave way to pleasure.

"Are you ready to hit the books tomorrow?" Julie asked half-teasingly.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"What are you watching?" She glanced at the screen as a commercial flashed on.

"Nothing. At least, nothing that's interesting." There was boredom in the faint sigh the girl expelled.

"I noticed this morning that you had quite a record collection." Julie wandered over to the turntable and the rack of albums in the stand beneath it.

"They're mostly rock," Debbie offered in warning.

Sending a smiling look over her shoulder, Julie asked, "Is there any other kind?"

The smile was broadly returned. "According to Auntie Em, there is. Sue Ling isn't crazy about it, either. Why don't you pick out a couple of albums and put them on?"

Julie did, then sat cross-legged in a chair by Debbie's bed. They talked for a while, about music and anything and everything. Julie found more to like in the girl. At times she seemed oddly mature; other moments she was innocent and vulnerable, totally without guile. In all respects, she was a typical teenager, interested in music, boys, school, and the future.

The second album was half through when the telephone rang. It was on the stand by Debbie's bed, within reach of her uninjured right arm. Julie could tell that it was one of Debbie's girl friends and guessed the conversation would sooner or later get to a personal and private level of teenage confidences.

"I'll see you in the morning," she whispered as she uncoiled her legs from the chair.

"You don't have to go, Julie," Debbie protested. "It's only Cathy, one of my girl friends."

"You don't really want your teacher listening in on your conversation," Julie insisted with a knowing smile. Debbie started to argue, before nodding an admission with a rueful grin. "Good night, Debbie."

"Good night."

When Julie didn't find Emily Harmon in the living room, she went on upstairs to her bedroom. She went over the work sheet she had drawn up for the next day's subjects and went to bed shortly after ten. To her knowledge, Ruel Chandler hadn't arrived home.

Chapter Four

DURING HER FIRST WEEK, Ruel Chandler only had dinner with them twice. He was pleasant and courteous to Julie, but he didn't go out of his way to make her feel a part of the family. His attitude was such a contrast to everyone else's that she sometimes let it bother her. Wanting everybody to like her had always been one of her faults. So she tried to ignore the frustration she felt.

Her first free weekend she decided against doing any sight-seeing. She would have time enough to tour the whole island in the next few months. Wearing a swimming suit beneath her slacks and blouse, she thought she would get a bit of sun and do some souvenir shopping for her friends and family. Emily suggested that she could accomplish both in the small town of Haleiwa and offered to loan her one of the economy cars. But Julie decided to go by bus, even though it meant a long walk down the switchback road to the highway.

Haleiwa was a quaint village with its old storefronts and roadside fruit and shell stands. A small shopping center, recently erected, maintained the rustic motif of the older stores, complete with board sidewalks. It was a peaceful seaside community.

After exploring a general store and a neighborhood art gallery, she lunched outdoors at a sandwich shop. Then she wandered down to the small harbor. With the protection of a sunscreen, she lay out for a couple of hours in the sun and watched the sailing boats and cruisers going in and out. Later she returned to the town proper, purchased some souvenirs and caught the bus back.

Having been walking almost all day, she found the road leading to the house seemed much longer, plus she had the added burden of the purchases she'd made. She began to wish she had accepted Emily's loan of a car as she eyed the steep switchback road to the upper plateau.

A car roared toward her from behind and Julie moved to the grassy shoulder. Instead of swerving past her, it slowed to a stop beside her. At first glance she saw only the sleek, black sports car with the passenger door opening before she finally recognized Ruel Chandler behind the wheel.

"Hop in," he ordered smoothly.

With the daunting prospect of climbing that hill, Julie didn't need a second invitation. "Thanks." She slid into the bucket seat, juggled her packages, and closed the door.

Immediately the car was shifted into gear and it shot forward. "Been shopping, I see." His blue gaze flicked to the assortment of bags on her lap.

"I've been into Haleiwa," she offered in explanation.

"Nothing more ambitious than that?" He sounded as if he were mocking her, but Julie couldn't be sure. She was determined not to let his condescending attitude get under her skin.

"Nothing more ambitious than that," she returned the phrase as a statement. "Not this weekend." The low-slung car seemed to snake around the tight curves up the hill. "I thought I'd go to the beach tomorrow, swim, just take it easy."

"If it's swimming and sun you want, you're better off making use of the pool at the house," he told her. "We have some very strong currents here on the north shore and powerful undertows, not to mention coral reefs that are as sharp as razors. The beach at Haleiwa or Waimea Bay is about the only place for what you have in mind. If there aren't any breakers, you can feel safe swimming at Waimea."

"I'll remember that, thank you." She accepted his advice. Within seconds he was braking the car to a stop in the circular drive of the house. "Thanks for the lift, too. It would have been a long hard walk." She was determined to be pleasant and properly but not overly appreciative.

"It was no trouble."

Leaving the car parked in the drive, Ruel walked up to the house with her and opened the door, since her hands were full of packages.

"Thanks again." Julie smiled. The acknowledging nod of his head was courteous and nothing more as he returned to the car.

"Ruel?" Debbie called from her bedroom.

"It's me—Julie."

"You're back already!" came the loud reply.

It was silly to keep shouting back and forth. Julie walked to the girl's bedroom and appeared in the doorway before answering. "I'm back already."

"You certainly have an armload of souvenirs there," Debbie observed. "Did you find anything for your landlady?"

"I think so." Julie set her packages on a chair and opened one. She had mentioned to Debbie about Mrs. Kelly, her penchant for old movies and her Hollywood idea of Hawaii. "Do you suppose she'll like this?"

From the bag, she shook out a muu-muu. The flowered material was predominantly scarlet with a splash of orange and yellow. She held it up in front of her for Debbie to see.

"The color is all wrong. Much too bright," Ruel commented from the doorway.

Julie pivoted correcting quickly, "It isn't for me."

"It's for her landlady, Mrs. Kelly," Debbie added.

"Do you hate her that much?" A brow lifted in mocking inquiry.

"No," Julie denied that and glanced at the audaciously bold material. "I think this is what she would expect."

"Yes," Debbie agreed. "It's exactly the kind of thing Dorothy Lamour would wear," she said and giggled.

Ruel glanced from one to the other. "This must be a private joke."

It was, and Julie didn't feel like explaining it to him. She folded the long dress and returned it to its bag. Immediately she began gathering the rest of her packages as Debbie responded to his comment.

"It is kind of a private joke, but you might not appreciate the humor." With amazing tact, Debbie changed the subject. "I thought I heard your car drive in just before Julie arrived."

"I did. I gave her a ride from the highway."

"At least you didn't have to climb our miniature Matterhorn," Debbie teased.

"That's what I thought," Julie agreed with the sentiment. "I'll take these things upstairs to my room. Talk to you later, Debbie."

"Okay."

Ruel stepped to one side to let Julie past. The touch of his gaze made her skin prickle. It was an odd sensation that didn't go away until she was in her room.

Wearing a wrap around skirt and a shell pink blouse over her swimsuit, Julie attended Sunday service the next day at one of the little churches along the highway. Afterward she took the bus to Sunset Beach where there were as many sightseers as surfers. One group was on the sand dunes watching, the other was bobbing in the ocean with their brightly colored surfboards.

She slipped off her sandals and walked barefoot on the sandy beach. A short distance from the sightseers, she took her towel from the beach bag and spread it over the sand, anchoring it from the tugging tradewinds with her shoes and suntan lotion. After removing her blouse and skirt, she folded them neatly and stowed them in the beach bag, then stretching her long legs on the towel, she began applying the sunscreen to her exposed skin. Luckily she tanned easily, but she knew about the deceptive tropic sun of the islands and didn't want to risk a burn.

Leaning back on her elbows, she watched the surfers. The waves seemed awesome when compared with the California surf she knew. Here, they looked as if they were ten feet high. A surfer on a red board caught her eye as she watched him catch an immense loft of water. He rode the wave, twisting and balancing. Julie held her breath when she saw the water gyrating around him, but he came skimming out, crouched on his board.

In absolute triumph, the surfer rode the wave into shore, milking the last curve out of the wave before it carried him to the beach. Breathless, ecstatic, he picked up his board and looked back at the ocean that he had succeeded in conquering this time. Julie couldn't resist applauding. It had been a magnificent ride. He turned, sun-tanned and golden, and flashed that happy, triumphant smile at her.

"Great ride," Julie added words to her applause.

He trotted up the sand to where she sat and dropped on his knees beside her. "That wave gyrated around me like a dream."

"I saw it," she nodded.

He was still trying to catch his breath, panting from the exertion of the ride. A shining pair of brown eyes ran their gaze over her, admiration glinting openly.

"Do you surf?" he asked.

"I have," Julie admitted. "But that was a long time ago. These waves here are out of my league."

He set his board upright in the sand and sat down beside her. "Where are you from?" He wiped the water from his face and pushed his darkly wet hair back with a raking comb of his fingers.

"California."

"I'm Frank Smith from Virginia." He offered her his hand.

"Julie Lancaster." The grip of his hand was firm, but he didn't attempt to hold hers too long.