But if she felt that she belonged here with the tribes, Kash’s roots in East Africa went back even further. Like the Dunsmoors, the Hallets had owned a ranch in the same area, but his grandparents had both been killed in the Mau Mau uprising. They had lost their land, and there was no hope of ever getting it back. The Hallet name had been all but forgotten except as safari hunters and guides. In the end, with the changing times and the political winds that blew in the 1960s, there’d been no alternative.
Like herself, Kash and his older brother, Seth, had been born on Kenyatta, but instead of the old house, they’d been born in the overseer’s bungalow. His mother, Mara, had been brought to the Dunsmoor plantation after the Mau Mau had killed her parents. She’d been fifteen then, and a witness to her parents’ brutal death. Sable’s grandfather had found her hiding in the nearby jungle, half-crazed with fear and emotionally damaged. It had taken months to get Mara back on her feet and in her right mind. The Dunsmoors had raised her until at eighteen she married one of her own cousins, Thomas Hallet from South Africa. They had lived on Kenyatta for seven years as overseers until the two of them went home to South Africa to arrange a new home in Cape Town. Tragedy had struck; the plane went down, and they both died in the crash. Seth, the firstborn, who was seven, and Kash, two years old, had been left at Kenyatta.
Both Seth and Kash had grown up working with Mckibber and Sable’s father, and in their late teens they had begun a safari business with Mckibber out of Nairobi. And then something happened to change things for them. What it was, she didn’t know, for her own tragedy with her mother had struck then, and the long emotional struggle facing separation and death had followed. Her older sister, Kate, a strong Christian, had been prepared to face their mother’s death; her mother had as well, but not Sable. Sable had been tossed to and fro in her Christian dedication, so in love with Kash and Kenyan wildlife that the Lord and the Bible had taken a lower priority in her life.
The winds of adversity had blown harshly, and there had been a time when she thought they could engulf her untested faith. Yet God, in His love and faithfulness, had molded and shaped her into pursuing a new passion—one that embraced His cause. He had also been gracious enough to allow that cause to include the things Sable, too, cared deeply about: Kenya, its tribes, and its majestic wildlife.
****
The vehicle turned off the rough road onto a track that crossed a stretch of barren, rock-strewn ground bordered on one side by trees and a glint of water. The jeep bounced in and out of deep dust ruts and over boulders and roots and tufts of parched yellow grasses. Leaving the hard sunlight, it ran under the leafy shade of a giant tree to emerge onto a large sweep of yard. A rambling ranch-style double-story house with wide verandas looked out on the watering hole, showing lavender blue in the twilight and graced with some visiting pink flamingos.
A half dozen dogs of assorted shapes and sizes rushed out to greet the jeep, barking and snarling vociferously, followed by two Kikuyu houseboys in blue jeans and white shirts. The more dignified Maasai refused Western ways and rarely permitted themselves to become servants of others, including Europeans. The two boys removed her suitcase and bag from the back of the jeep and called, “Karibu Kenyatta!”
“Thank you, it’s good to be home again.”
A door at the far end of the veranda opened, and a tall, robust figure walked toward Sable and stood waiting at the top of the shallow porch steps—Zenobia Dunsmoor of the Kenyatta Reserve.
Six
Grandmother Zenobia wore blue dungarees, an embroidered denim shirt, and safari boots. Her long silver hair was braided and pinned to the top of her head, and as was her custom, she carried her big multicolored straw hat, although the glare of the sun’s rays was already ebbing. To Sable, Gran was neither old nor rattled, but almost royal in her African way, indomitable, warm, and tough. Sable longed for the recovery of their relationship even more now that her mother was with the Lord, her body resting in the cemetery in Toronto.
“Gran!”
Though unsentimental about many things, when it came to family, Zenobia was highly demonstrative, and she clasped her arms about Sable as though she were a butterfly soon to flutter away. Her voice echoed with a strong suggestion of surprise as well as relief.
“It’s so good to see you home, dear. And I’m sorry to not have been able to meet you in Mombasa, but there’s this nasty business of the poaching. Even Mckib got sidetracked. Thank goodness you got my message and were able to make it to Namanga by yourself. How well you look! Come along inside the lodge.”
Zenobia stopped and looked about, evidently surprised. “Where’s Vince?”
Sable hoped Gran wouldn’t learn of the fight between him and Kash. It would be dreadfully embarrassing. “He found it necessary to go on to the relief camp to meet with Kate,” she explained casually, hoping she didn’t sound disturbed by the change in plans.
“A fine thing,” grumbled Zenobia. “One would think he’s going to marry Kate instead of you.”
Sable laughed. “She wouldn’t have him.”
“You’re right there. She’s still grieving over Jim. I’m glad I was never the woebegone sort of romantic. It keeps one from ulcers. Come along.”
Sable smiled.
“I’ll have Jomo brew a fresh pot of Kenyan coffee.”
“I was counting on that. Oh, it’s great to be home!” She followed Zenobia across the porch.
“Rather odd—about Vince, I mean, unless he’s bringing Kate home tonight, but she sent a message telling you to meet her at the Maasai camp. There was something about a well that she was all excited about.”
Sable masked an inner flinch. It would be dreadful to disappoint Kate. With all the events of the day, Sable had almost forgotten about the missing money for the wells, but she didn’t want to let on. Gran knew nothing about the wells yet, for it was meant to be a surprise for her. Gran had always looked favorably on the Maasai tribe, and Sable knew she would be pleased with such a memorial to her daughter-in-law.
“I told him not to travel at night with these poachers about,” said Zenobia, frowning.
Mckibber called up from the jeep to the porch, “Dr. Adler won’t be coming to supper tonight, Zenobia. There’s a meeting about getting those supplies up to Samburu. He can’t hire a guide.”
“Just as well. You’ll all get ambushed by thugs touting machine guns.” It was clear that her grandmother was uneasy about their planned trip to the dangerous Northern Frontier District, so close to the hostilities in Somalia.
Zenobia turned from Mckibber and spoke again to Sable. “Come, dear, you will want to see your old room. I’m sorry, but the house will soon be filled with the conference guests. I hope you won’t mind. It will be more like a hotel stay than a homecoming to a grandmother’s house smelling of gingerbread and tea.”
Sable laughed and slipped an arm about her grandmother’s thick waist. “I like my unconventional granny and her house just the way they are. When will the conservationists be arriving?”
She sighed. “On Thursday…but your father won’t be coming. Did Mckib tell you?”
“Yes. I suppose Kate’s as disappointed as I am.”
“Kate’s like you. She won’t quit. Insists on opening the medical clinic in the north. I’ll lose both of you to tramping off on your own. You know I don’t want either of you to go up there with Skyler.”
“Now, Gran, you also know that’s the reason I’ve returned home. Besides, we won’t need to be heroic and on our own. We have Vince. And maybe even Father will surprise everyone and show up unexpectedly, fresh from the African wilderness.” Her expression darkened. “I’m sure he has much to say to the conservationists about the decline of the elephants in Marsabit.”
“Yes, well…if Skyler does show up, Vince will be the happiest fellow at Kenyatta. He’s desperate to see him.”
Sable remembered what Kash had told her. “What about? The elephants?”
“He didn’t say. I suppose so. He w
on’t talk to anyone but you, dear. One would think he’s found an old map to Solomon’s mines.”
“Sounds dangerous,” she smiled. “I prefer to gather data on the elephants and show the JESUS film.”
“Let’s hope Vince has the same cause on his heart.”
Sable stopped and gave her grandmother a searching look. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t he?”
Gran laughed shortly. “Pay an old woman no mind. Come along—don’t tell anyone, but I’ve a secret letter from your father. It’s addressed to you alone, so I’ve not mentioned it even to Kate.”
“When did it arrive?” she asked excitedly.
“A week ago. And I’ve behaved myself—I refused to steam it open.”
“It wouldn’t matter if you had. Where is it? Do you have it on you?”
“No. I’ll go to my office for it now. You can read it after you wash the dust from your face and take your things up to your room.” Zenobia turned to go, then paused as though she were very tired and said, “I hope you’ll stay, Sable.”
She knew what her grandmother meant. Sable smiled and remained cautious about her plans. “Of course I’m staying, Gran! It’s wonderful to be back in Kenya.”
“You know what I mean. I wasn’t thinking of Samburu, but here at the lodge.”
“And I do want to stay, but you know Father’s expecting me and Kate. Her nursing skills are needed with the tribes, and Father has all his research journals to be put in order for publication.” She added carefully, “When he returns here, I’ll be with him. I want to take up Mother’s position of helping both of you manage the reserve.”
Gran was silent for a moment or two, then her fingers tightened about Sable’s arm and she looked into her granddaughter’s face with clear eyes full of anxiety. “You must choose for yourself, Sable, as must Kate. However, there are some things I must tell you—things that will affect your future.”
“I’m not afraid of the future, Gran, if that’s what you think. I’ve given everything to the Lord. Even if I don’t understand all that’s happened to me, I believe that He has a purpose meant for my good and His glory. He’s guiding my steps now. I feel as if the Lord has called me here, and because He has, I don’t intend to let anything or anyone persuade me to run away back to Toronto.”
The emotion and strain remained in Zenobia’s tanned and age-lined face, but her eyes softened with pride. “I always did appreciate your strong will. You and Kate both. Whatever men you two marry will be greatly blessed.”
Sable smiled wryly and remained silent.
“Now that you’re close to the Lord, I’m certain you’ll consider matters carefully,” Zenobia went on. Then she frowned. “I had thought Vince would be here, and Kate, too, but we’ll go on without them. Perhaps it’s better this way. You’ll have time to think and decide on things on your own. Vince can be very persuasive.”
They walked across the wide hardwood floor of the dining commons toward Zenobia’s cluttered office, a room Sable had visited a thousand times while growing up.
“I wanted you to come, but not because of the needs at Samburu,” said Gran again, looking at her, a troubled glint in her eyes. “The Lord knows we have more than enough needs right here. And there’s the shipping business at Mombasa.”
“Yes, Mckib mentioned it. Are you sure you want to sell it?”
“Goodness, it’s not a matter of what I want, but what I must do. The financial difficulties are beyond us unless Vince can bring in new investors.” She frowned again. “I hope I made the right decision about that. He’s been running it for me the last year. Did he mention it to you when you were in Toronto?”
“No, I suppose it slipped his mind. I’m surprised. What does Father think of the idea?”
Gran sighed. “Skyler, unfortunately, hasn’t been back here in months. He’s so taken up with the elephants out there in the bush that I don’t think he even cares about the family business anymore.”
Sable could hardly believe it of him. “He’s always been interested in the shipping. If he’s taken up with elephants, Gran, it must be very important. He’ll explain everything.”
Gran didn’t reply, and her silence made Sable uncomfortable.
“It was Kate’s idea to have Vince run the shipping,” Zenobia went on. “She knew I needed help and thought he would be reliable until Skyler returns. I admit Vince is trying, but Kash isn’t pleased, and that troubles me. He wants to buy the company.”
The news came as a total surprise. “Kash? I’m surprised he’s able to do such a thing.”
Zenobia appeared disturbed. “He’s offering a good price, but Vince is against it. He doesn’t trust his business connections.” She frowned. “That’s the same argument Kash uses against Vince.”
Sable watched her. “When did you see Kash?”
“He came to see me a few days ago. He didn’t want you here, least of all up there in Samburu with Vince around. He claims Vince isn’t what he pretends. That he has some agenda of his own.”
“It’s absurd, all of it,” said Sable, growing more uneasy by the minute. “I can’t believe Vince is deceptive. But I do wonder how Kash came into enough money to want to buy the Dunsmoor shipping business.”
“He says his work in South Africa was quite lucrative.”
Sable wasn’t sure it was as simple as that. If that were true, then why was he now working as boss for a third-rate zoo hunter’s company out of Tanga?
“He was only there a year,” Sable said. “How could he have made so much in such a short time?”
Zenobia looked away. “Well, there is more…but we’ll talk of it later, after you’ve had a chance to wash up.”
Sable decided Zenobia must know about Kash’s illegal activities. But why then would she even consider letting him buy the shipping business?
“Of course, Mckib vows that Kash knows what he’s doing,” said Zenobia.
Sable laughed her doubts. “Mckibber is his uncle. What can we expect him to say?”
“You’re right…but somehow Kash never seemed the sort of boy to be involved in poaching or anything else ugly and illegal.”
“He’s not a boy anymore,” said Sable tiredly. “And it so happens I ran into him today.”
Zenobia gave her a quick searching glance. “So,” she mused, “that accounts for things. I was wondering why Vince went off in such a huff again.”
Vince’s angry behavior earlier that day had surprised Sable, but because her grandmother thought it somewhat typical, it alerted her. “Why did you think so? Vince has always behaved with such restraint.”
Zenobia shrugged. “You forget, Vince has been a member of the family here for the last six months. I’ve gotten to know him well enough. He’s temperamental, but a good sort nonetheless.”
Sable told her about her adventure in meeting Kash, about Moffet, and the camp of Smith and Browning.
“Browning said Kash was in charge,” said Sable, troubled. “What does Mckibber say about that?”
“That Kash can be trusted, and he knows what he’s doing.”
“I have serious doubts about that. Seems to me his activities these past couple of years have been questionable at best. Vince has persuaded me that whatever money he has now has been acquired illegally. If I were you, I would never allow him to buy the company. If nothing else, it will add to the tension between him and Vince, but it could also be disastrous for our family. I think we’d better listen to Vince this time.”
Her grandmother was thoughtful. “That may not be so easy.”
Sable wondered what she meant. She also thought of what Kash told her about the risk of going to Samburu with Dr. Adler. It seemed he had more on his mind than mere safety of travel or the danger that could come from renewed fighting among opposing tribes in the area. What was it that Kash knew that he wasn’t telling her? And just what did he really want—the shipping business in Mombasa?
“I’ve talked your ear off, and you haven’t even gotten out of those dusty
clothes yet. I have more to tell you, but first you go up to your room, dear, and wash up while I get the letter from Skyler. Then we can relax and have our coffee.”
As Zenobia bustled off to her office, Sable wondered what the letter from her father had to say and why he had chosen to write her in secret.
****
Sable descended the wide staircase a few minutes later, feeling somewhat refreshed after washing her face and hands and putting on clean shorts and a T-shirt. A lingering bath would have to wait until later. Right now she was anxious to hear what else Zenobia had to tell her and to see the letter from her father. She stood looking about, drinking in the sights and sounds of “home.” The lodge was, despite a reprieve from tourists, a busy place, where the service people were cleaning the dozen guest rooms in preparation for the conference. The dining commons was the main gathering place each evening for the highlight of their stay: grand and stylish dinners, a la 1940s style, with portraits of Gregory Peck and Ava Gardner on the log walls commemorating their parts in The Snows of Kilimanjaro—the movie of Hemingway’s story. All the wood furniture had cushions done in simulated zebra fur, and there were majestic enlarged photos of lions, elephants, leopards, and rhinos. The highly polished floor smelled of new wax. The encircling viewing veranda that looked down on the watering hole had private tables and chairs, with binoculars available. A wide flight of stairs went up to the rooms, with private baths and terraces, and room service was carried by white-jacketed waiters who had mastered their elaborate British tone better than the English natives.
The gift export shop opened off from the dining commons, and Sable made her way through the open doorway to look about. Zenobia had still not returned with the letter, and Sable wondered what was keeping her.
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