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Authors: Susanne Bellamy

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BOOK: White Ginger
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Still wearing pajamas, Amelie’s tousled hair and sleepy-eyed greeting sent his thoughts straight to her bedroom.

“Amelie, I’m really sorry but I’ve got to catch the plane. Please, can we talk when I get back?”

He needed to hold her. Since her arrival, there had been few days he hadn’t seen her. Yesterday seemed forever ago and his body demanded relief. Like an addict, he needed his fix of her. Why didn’t she answer?

“Amelie? I’ll be in Honolulu until at least Friday, Saturday at the latest, but I will solve this. I promise.”

“I believe you.” Soft words, but they were like a joyous shout to his heart. She stepped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his waist. As she rested against his chest, the press of her breasts against his chest triggered an all too familiar desire to make love to her.

He pulled her closer, trying to imprint her scent as he kissed her hair. She turned her face to his, offering a kiss of such sweetness he almost consigned Terry and the board to hell. Surely they had time for more?

Reluctantly he lifted his mouth from hers. “Wait for me?”

“I’ll be here.” She butterfly-kissed his lower lip.

How could he leave her? But how could he miss the opportunity to end the danger threatening her because of him? He had to tie the sabotage to Sanderson and find their attacker. To achieve that, he had to go to the capital. He had to end the danger to find their beginning. If he didn’t go now, he’d miss the plane.

Stepping back he retained hold of her hands. “Shall we celebrate at the country club dance on Saturday with Lili and Kevin?”

“Only if you promise to dance every dance with me.” Her sultry murmur almost undid his resolve. What he wanted right now was to sweep her off her feet and into her bedroom. But then he’d have to tell the committee why he missed the plane.

“So long as you save the last dance for me, even if I’m late.” It took every ounce of self-discipline he possessed to turn and walk to his jeep.

* * * *

Amelie worked through the morning, translating some of her sketches of the volcano into paintings. As usually happened when she was in creative mode, she was unaware of Lili’s arrival until her cheerful greeting sounded close by her shoulder.

“Thought you might be hard at work today, but I wanted to see if that brother of mine has come by yet?”

Lili delicately tried to find out what they’d discussed before Arne’s rushed departure to Honolulu.

“Nothing really. He didn’t have time for more than–to say much.” How did the same thoughts of Arne manage to both embarrass and excite her? Would she ever have a talk about Arne with Lili and not feel her cheeks warm? Thank goodness, Lili was impartial when it came to her relationships.

“Men. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. So–what did he tell you about this trip?” Discussion of progress in the investigation diverted Lili. “I’d like to see Sanderson come a cropper if he’s behind any of what’s happened. Nobody wants that development to damage the reef, and if he’s falsifying readings, we’ll know his promises of protecting the environment were lies.”

“Arne also suggested we all go to the country club dance on Saturday. How dressy are these events?” Amelie mentally reviewed her clothing options. When she’d packed to come to Hawaii, her plans hadn’t included dressing up.

“We’ll buy ourselves new dresses and get our hair and nails done and wow those guys. We’ll be the belles of the ball! But in the meantime… hey, you know what we should do while Arne’s out of town?”

Amelie shook her head. Where was Lili heading? “What should we do?”

“Drive up to the northern coast line, do the tourist thing. We could go to Haena. Some caves are lava tubes and there’re waterfalls like nothing you’ve ever seen. It’s beautiful. What do you say?”

How good to see more of the island with a friend. “Who could resist such an offer? Yes.”

Lili set to work writing up lists of things to take and things to do before they left. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

 

 

Chapter 14

 

Lani bounced and sang in the back seat as they set off bright and early the next morning. Lush green valleys, golden beaches and tropical forest flashed past their windows.

“Oh, look, there’s the Bali Hai Mountains.”

“You’re kidding me. You mean, like in
South Pacific
? I thought Michener created that whole story.”

“Of course they’re real. Where do you think he got the name from? Sheesh, Amelie, you and Arne both need a reality check.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing.” Lili refused to be drawn and redirected Amelie’s attention to the profile of Sleeping Giant.

But later that night, after dinner was over and Lani asleep, they sat on the balcony with glasses of wine, listening to the sounds of a party a few doors down. Lili returned to the topic of reality checks via the movie musical. Recalling the two love stories for Amelie, she pointed out the social and racial attitudes dividing the two sets of lovers. “One pair overcame the conditioning of the times; the others didn’t. It’s still like that today. Heritage matters more to some people than who you are.”

“Is that why Arne–”

“Yes. Marita threw his Hawaiian background at him when she left him for Sanderson. But it’s more than that. Although Marita’s comments hurt him, Arne is rightly proud of who he is and what he’s achieved. But he’s afraid–that
you
might fall in love with him but choose to return to your country and marry the man back home. When you kicked Victor off your property, I think that gave Arne hope. He just needs to know you love him.”

Speechless, Amelie stared at her friend.

“You do love him, don’t you? Because I’m sure that he’s in love with you.”

Hope rushed through her veins. Was Arne in love with her? Was this what he wanted to talk about? Was it possible to fall in love so quickly?

Yes, yes, yes!

Lili would know, wouldn’t she? Had Arne confided in his sister? Why else would Lili tell her? Arne loved her?

“Arne is afraid to trust his emotions. And he thinks he’s rushing you while you’re mourning a lost love.”

He thought she wanted Victor? No wonder she hadn’t understood his behavior. While he was being careful of her feelings, she’d been tiptoeing round his bruised heart. But Arne loved her. He was the only man in her life, the only man to hold her heart. Her mind spun over the intimate moments she and Arne had shared, only to have him pull away. She wouldn’t let him pull away again. When he returned from Honolulu, they would talk. And then she would kiss him like there was no tomorrow and hope for the consequences of her actions.

“So he’s not still in love with Marita?”

“He was over Marita the moment he set eyes on you, Amelie. She never truly had his heart. You do, but he has to be certain of that for himself. I’m going to bed. Sleep well.”

Amelie leaned on the railing, chin resting on her hand, her fingers playing lightly across her lips.
How beautiful the moon is tonight. A lovers’ moon.

* * * *

They continued their exploration of the north coast the next day by taking a guided tour of the Waimea Canyon, marveling at the deep drop into the canyon. Lani was in her element on the boat cruise up the Waialua River, running from side to side of the boat, spotting fish and drinking too much Coke. By the time they reached Spouting Horn blowhole, she was so excited she missed the guide’s call to move back and got soaked as the seawater rushed through the spout.

Lili called a halt.

“Enough, Lani! Sit down over there until you drip dry. We’re leaving soon and you’re not getting into the car while you’re carrying half the ocean in your clothes.”

Lani sat subdued. Finally, Lili relented and they headed in for gelato. Watching Lani scooping up the brightly colored dessert reminded Amelie of Joe, so tiny now but who would grow so fast. How quickly time passed and things changed. How were Jimi and Lucy and their new son coping? Would she know the joy they, and Lili’s family, shared?

She’d been alone long enough. If Arne loved her, she would belong to a family again. His family. Their family. Would he believe how much she loved him, how necessary he was to her life?

On the way home, Lili detoured into a small community tucked into a green valley. At first Amelie thought they were going to see another of the spectacular waterfalls that fell through this rain blessed landscape. Lani squealed excitedly as they turned down a short, rutted track.

“Grandma’s house! Mum, we’re at Grandma’s.”

“I hope you don’t mind, Amelie, but we don’t visit as often as we’d like to these days, and Gran lives on our route home.”

“Of course I don’t mind. How lovely to see her unexpectedly.” Arne’s grandmother. What would she be like?

They pulled off in front of a cottage surrounded by flowers, hibiscus, plumeria, orchids and white gingers. The garden was a profusion of glorious color.

“Gran is a wonderful gardener, and it’s been good therapy for her since Gramps passed away last year. I think you’ll like her a lot.”

Amelie climbed out of the car, gladly stretching muscles protesting from their early morning climb. A petite gray-haired woman wearing a wide-brimmed gardening hat appeared from the garden. Secateurs in hand, she waved.

Lani hurled herself into her great-grandmother’s arms, babbling her news.

“We went to Spouting Horn, Gran, and I got all wet when it blew!”

Laughing, her grandmother brushed Lani's wayward curls back from her face. Turning to hug Lili she noticed her guest and paused, smiling and raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

Lili drew Amelie forward. “Gran, this is Amelie. Amelie, my grandmother, Marie.”


Enchanté, ma petite
.” Marie’s pale fine-boned features and gentle blue eyes were still beautiful, in spite of her years. And just as Amelie’s grandmother used to do, Marie touched her soft cheeks to each of Amelie’s. That simple greeting took her back to her childhood and tears sprang to her eyes. How she wished her gentle grandmother was still alive. She turned to fiddle with her tote bag as the others headed into the cottage.


Venez
, come in. You must be thirsty after your drive.”

Why hadn’t Arne mentioned his grandmother was French? Especially when she’d told him about her own mixed heritage.

Marie brought out glasses of homemade lemonade and they sat on the wide porch. A half hour passed as Lani and Lili tripped over each other describing their trip north for her entertainment. Marie clapped her hands at Lani’s physical demonstrations of their exploits, especially the blowhole episode.

Watching their interactions, Amelie remembered sharing similar conversations with her mother and grandmother. How sad she would never experience that closeness again.

Marie turned to her.


Tiens
! So you paint flowers and birds and landscapes of our pretty island and turn them into fabric designs,
non
?”

“That’s what this trip is about. At least, that’s my main purpose in being here. My employer has entered a Hawaiian collection of fabrics and I have to finish the designs. The international trade fair in Seattle is in a few months. I came here to find inspiration.”

“And have you found much to inspire you?”

Amelie nodded. “It’s so incredibly lovely that I don’t know how I’ll ever have my fill. Everywhere I turn there’s more I want to capture. Your garden is another wonder. I’d love to sketch it. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

Marie waved away her gaffe.

“You are more than welcome to visit. Would you like to see some of my special favorites before you go, if it would not bore you? I love company, but I love sharing my garden even more.”

Lili took Lani’s hand. “We’ll go for a walk to the waterfall. I think Lani needs to expend some energy before we head off.”

Marie led the way along natural winding paths, pointing out the large golden hibiscus blooms that were their state flower, amidst a multitude of others in the hibiscus walk. Elsewhere, orchids and gingers grew between the broad foliage of unusual shaped plants.

“We planted this oleander when Lili was born. She was named after it–her name is actually Oliana. Somehow that became Lili when Arne was small. Likewise, she couldn’t say Keanu so he became Arne for her. Childhood names seem to stay forever.”

They strolled on. Gently, she ran her fingertips along the petals of one gorgeous yellow bloom. “These plumeria flowers are often used in leis. Aren’t they lovely?”

“Gorgeous. Can you imagine a border pattern of them on a deep green background?” Where was her sketchbook when she wanted it? “Would you mind if I take a few photos? Only for my own reference.”

“Go ahead,
ma petite
. I am delighted you like my little garden. I think, sometimes, I bore my poor grandchildren with my passion for plants.”

Spying a white ginger plant at a turn in the path, she moved ahead to smell its fragrance. “This is my favorite.”

“Mine, too. It seems we have more in common than our French names. My own journey to the islands as a young woman was to escape war-ravaged France. As a toddler in the early days of the war, I lost most of my family. A distant cousin raised me on his flower farm near Toulouse.”

BOOK: White Ginger
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