“Kash can tell you about them. He came from there recently—” Zenobia stopped. “So that’s it! Skyler’s letter—it was Kash who brought it.”
“Kash?” Sable was so surprised she stood to her feet.
“I wonder….” mused Zenobia, her brow wrinkling.
“Kash brought the letter?” repeated Sable, bewildered. “Why hasn’t he mentioned it to me?”
“Yes, I wonder. Perhaps he just told me about it but forgot to give it to me. We were busy talking that day, and Vince arrived…and maybe I simply thought I placed it inside my desk. Anyway, dear, do ask him when you see him today. He’ll have to remember.”
****
Of Kenya’s parks and reserves, Amboseli was one of the largest, containing over a thousand square miles. Sable recalled how Kash told her he was working with the Maasai as an adviser. How can he possibly be involved in poaching? she thought, frowning as she drove Zenobia’s big Land Rover toward the camp. Seeing Kash again after all this time was causing her to question whether or not she had been right in believing Vince that Kash had turned to illegal activities to make money. The evidence seemed to be there, but her heart kept telling her otherwise.
However, it was no secret that even game wardens were sometimes the enemy—like a policeman gone bad.
Sable shut it all from her mind to bask in the dramatic scenery everywhere dominated by the majestic Kilimanjaro. As she drove through the hot, dusty thornbush country, she glimpsed the plains animals in herds: the rare and beautiful fringe-eared oryx with its black-and-white face and long straight horns. She slowed the Land Rover as she came across the shy and graceful long-necked gerenuk. As they browsed from thornbushes they stood up on their hind legs, munching and watching her. These were some of the animals the Lord had designed to survive the dry season—able to go without water for long periods.
This area of the Amboseli Reserve was also used by the Maasai for their cattle, unlike the southeastern area near Old Tukai, where she’d gotten stuck in the mud flats of Lake Amboseli. Because Old Tukai was a national park, the cattle were not allowed to graze there. During the dry season it contained one of the most remarkable concentrations of game animals in all of Africa: rhinos, elephants, lions, cheetahs, giraffes, baboons, monkeys, and plains animals of all types.
Sable slowed as the camp came into view. Temporary canvas buildings were set up with various pieces of equipment, and the medical tent, the largest, was partially shaded by acacias. A few goats and chickens were penned farther away, and water barrels were stacked beneath a tree, reminding her of how precious water was in the area—and how desperately the Maasai women with children needed a well nearby.
Sable honked a greeting as she drove slowly into the compound, trying to keep the dust down. At the sound of the horn, her older sister came out of the medical tent and, seeing who it was, let out a cry, waving excitedly, the crimson red cross sewn boldly onto the front of her sweat-stained khaki shirt.
Sable was quickly out from behind the wheel as Kate came running to meet her. “It’s about time you came home and got to work again,” she taunted, laughing as they embraced, holding back joyful tears. This was their first meeting since the death of their mother.
Unlike many sisters, she and Kate had never competed for acceptance and personal identity. Their relationship had grown as simply and as strongly as Gran’s sturdy bright zinnias behind the lodge. Both Kate and Sable were satisfied with their God-given callings in life and were able to appreciate their differences without feeling threatened. Kate was strong, rarely discouraged, and could joke about her disappointments and the flaws in her appearance. She didn’t see her work as a spiritual sacrifice to further the kingdom, but an honor bestowed upon her by the Lord.
“I’d rather be here amid the heat, dust, and flies than anywhere else in the world. At night I can see Mount Kilimanjaro, hear the lions and elephants, and still keep secret company with the King of Kings.”
That was Kate Dunsmoor. For years Sable had lived under her spiritual shadow, but rather than being jealous of her peace, she’d been wooed by it to search for her own intimacy with the Lord Jesus.
Although sisters, they were dark and light. Kate was a brunette, and her long straight hair was unassumingly drawn back from a pretty face with high cheekbones sprinkled with sun freckles. Her eyes were blue, and she was an inch taller than Sable. She wore jeans well because of her height and straight legs, and she had recently bemoaned her twenty-eighth birthday.
“I’ll never marry,” she had written to Sable in Toronto and had drawn a smiley face next to a frowney with two teardrops.
Sable had smiled at her cartoon, but there was sadness in her smile. As Gran had said at the lodge yesterday when she arrived, Kate still secretly grieved over the loss of Jim Murray, the missionary whom she had expected to marry since the two of them attended church together and sang in the school choir. Five years ago he’d contracted cholera in one of the relief camps where he was working with the team as a male nurse, and those in authority had sent him home to Nairobi for treatment.
Kate had expected Jim to come back. While she carried on her work she waited for letters to begin arriving in answer to her own, which she wrote every night. Several months elapsed with no response. She had driven to the lodge to call Jim’s mother and “casually” inquire how he was doing.
“His mom seemed embarrassed to hear from me,” Kate had written to Sable. “Later, I found out why.”
After recovering his health, Jim had announced his decision to give up medical missions and enter the “non-missionary world” as he had called it. He began working in an auto repair shop and eventually married the owner’s daughter.
Years later Kate confessed to Sable that she still grieved the loss of her teenage sweetheart, insisting, “I will never love anyone else.”
She looked older now, Sable thought as she drew away from their embrace. Kate was not one to smear her face with creams and ointments, and the hot African sun had given her more than a tan. Tiny premature age lines at the corners of her eyes showed how tired she was. Her face, however, shone with an inner contentment that made her truly lovely.
It’s just too bad she can’t meet more eligible men while doing this work for the Lord, thought Sable in a protective mood.
Who knows? It may turn out that neither Kate nor I will ever marry, she thought, smiling wistfully. But if this is God’s best for us, we won’t feel sorry for ourselves. The Lord himself is our portion, our joy, our life.
“Oh, Kate, it’s great to see you again! But look at you,” Sable teased. “You’re a mess! When was the last time you wore lipstick?”
Kate made a face at her, beckoning her toward the tent. “And who’s to see it and think I’m kissable—him?” She pointed.
Sable followed the direction of her gesture and saw a penned, rangy-looking hyena that chose that moment to offer its hysteric laugh.
“He’s got a bad leg,” said Kate soberly. “I interfered with nature yesterday. He was about to be eaten, and I intervened. Think I’ll send him to Gran. What shall I call him? Lover Boy?”
Sable smiled as Kate began to sing loftily, “Somewhere my love, somewhere he waits for me…Somewhere my love, somewhere beyond the sea….”
Sable grimaced. “Never mind. Tell me about the work here.” They entered the medical tent, where a stately, barefoot Maasai woman wearing a long brown wrap sat immobile on a stool, a small thin baby in her arms.
Kate sobered, becoming professional as she examined the baby’s running eyes.
“Skin and eye disease are the result of a lack of water. It could be solved simply enough if they could just get enough water to bathe their children. Imagine, Sable! These women must walk eight miles each way to the nearest water. She leaves early every other day and returns carrying four gallons of water on her back—not enough to wash her children or their clothes or her dishes—only enough for her family to survive.”
Sable handed her the medication
to clean the baby’s eyes and smiled at the Maasai woman, who watched her. To Sable’s surprise the woman spoke in clear English. “Doctor Kate tells us you have come with a gift from the Christians to build a well for us. We are very grateful for the love of our fellow Christians. I, too, am a Christian. Many of the children see the talking film of Jesus speaking to us in our tongue. They believe.”
Sable glanced at Kate and the child, then back to the dignified Maasai woman, who watched her evenly.
“Yes,” said Sable, her voice quiet. “I came to see that two wells are built.”
Even Kate turned her head and looked at her expectantly. “When?”
Sable concentrated on the baby. She didn’t want to explain what had happened in front of the Maasai woman. She needed to talk to Kate privately. I’ll get the money again somehow, she told herself. Please, Lord, make it possible for them to have the wells, given in your Name, so your daughters can have water to keep their babies from disease.
I’ll get those wells built if I have to sell my portion of the shipping to Kash.
Sable smiled. “Very soon,” she said brightly. “Before Doctor Kate and the others leave for Samburu, we’ll have men come from Nairobi here to build them.”
The woman nodded, and although it was not the Maasai way to smile, her eyes did, and even the baby stopped her fussing.
“There,” said Kate. “All done. Bring her back in ten days. And apply a little of this ointment every morning and night.”
When the woman had left the tent, Kate sank wearily onto a cot at the back of the tent and popped open a can of Coke. “Mckib brought these out a few days ago. Have one, if you don’t mind it warm.”
“Thanks, no, but Gran sent you cookies. The chocolate’s all melted, though.”
Kate drew up her long legs, crossing them as she watched Sable soberly. “What about the wells? What went wrong?”
Sable looked over at her, surprised. “How did you know something’s wrong?”
“You hesitated when she asked you. And when you spoke you stared at the baby. If you had the money, you’d have been excited.”
Sable sighed and sat down. “I sent it through my bank before I flew out of Toronto. When I went through Namanga before seeing Gran at the lodge, I stopped to make sure it was there because I wanted Mckibber to take care of hiring men in Nairobi right away.”
Kate drank her Coke without so much as a grimace. “You mean the money didn’t reach Namanga?”
“It got there all right, but it was withdrawn four days ago and transferred to Nairobi.”
“Well, that’s easy. We’ll just drive over there and get it. We’ll be right there to hire the construction team.”
“I called over there while in Namanga. They insisted the money was already used for the work here.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
“No, it doesn’t. I…um…am going to ask Vince about it next time I see him.”
Kate’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You think Dr. Adler took the money?”
“No, of course not,” she hastened, for she wasn’t certain yet. The bank had promised to look into it and get in touch within the week. “He may have been under the false impression it was to be used for the Samburu trip.”
“Instead of the wells here, you mean?”
“Yes. And if he did, it’s my fault, because I should have made it clear that these were private funds belonging to us for Mother’s memorial.”
Kate considered and lapsed into silence. Sable, too, said nothing more, and after a moment Kate said, “Tomorrow we’ll take the Land Rover and tour the area where the wells will go. By the way, if our money was spent, just how do you expect to build them?”
“I will, that’s all.” Sable stood. “If necessary I’ll take out a loan on my shares in Dunsmoor shipping.”
“And if you don’t marry you’ll end up in old age getting your soup at the rescue mission.”
“Now whose faith is less than a mustard seed? You can brave all this alone, but now you worry about your sister standing in a soup line.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
“Cheer up. Gran is leaving you the export shop in Mombasa. You can retire there to your needlework and sell Maasai jewelry to the tourists. Think of all the tales you can entertain them with about staring down hungry lions in your youth.”
“Don’t laugh. There was a lion the other night, about eight feet long and sniffing loudly around my tent.” Kate changed the subject, growing sober. “You’re sure about the wells? If you are, we could start digging before the wet season comes.”
“I expect to have the construction papers signed before we leave for Samburu,” said Sable, with more hope than certainty.
Kate looked at her curiously. “Did Vince tell you our guide changed his mind about the safari? We’ve got to find another man, Sable. It’s important we join Dad at the camp before matters worsen in the NFD. If actual war breaks out, the authorities may not let us in even if we find a guide.”
Sable told her that Vince was in Nairobi trying to locate a safari business willing to sign on for Samburu.
“We’ve got until after the wildlife conference,” said Kate. “After that, we’ll need to strike out on our own.”
Sable gave a laugh. “Gran will have a nervous breakdown. What about hauling the supplies? We’ll need at least two trucks.”
“Vince can drive one. You and I can take turns driving the other.”
It was like Kate to say this, but Sable knew it wasn’t that simple. Their one hope seemed to lie in Vince’s success in Nairobi.
“The Lord will provide if He wants us there,” said Sable.
“You’re absolutely right, so we won’t worry about it now,” Kate said in her no-nonsense way and, glancing swiftly at her watch, set her empty Coke can down. “There are a few women with children waiting to be seen. They’ve walked at least three miles to get here. I’ll take care of them, then we’ll have lunch. Kash is coming.”
Sable’s expression remained as smooth as glass. “Yes, he told Gran he’d meet me here. I wonder what he wants to talk about.”
Kate arched a brow. “You mean there’s a long list of subjects to choose from?”
Sable remained silent, remembering the things Vince had said the night before in the yard.
“I’ll show you to my tent,” Kate said quickly, and Sable was grateful that her sister didn’t press the point.
“You are staying a few days with me, aren’t you?” Kate went on. “The conference doesn’t start until next week. And Vince will swing by here first on his way back from Nairobi.”
“Yes, I want to stay. I told Gran I might. She has enough to keep her busy with the arrival of the baby elephant.”
Kate shook her head sadly. “It’s a shame about Moffet, but as much as we liked her, she’s only one of the many animals in the recent rash of poaching. It’s despicable.”
The bright sunlight struck them as they stepped out of the larger medical tent. Several Maasai women were waiting patiently in the sun, holding babies. Several sick children squatted in the dust, and the persistent flies buzzed.
Kate called to them in Swahili and said something to one of the children, who shyly covered his face with both palms and giggled, then she motioned Sable to follow her.
The dust rose as they walked past the jeep and a bigger tent where the aroma of food and coffee poured out. A fly netting hung in the open arch, and Sable saw the kitchen staff preparing the noon meal. There were an older couple, a stout young man, and an African girl.
“Do you see Kash often?” asked Sable casually.
“Since he’s been back, he’s come to visit on Sundays, sometimes with Mckib, who brings me Gran’s personal supplies for the week and my mail from Nairobi. A few people in our church write me the news; otherwise, I wouldn’t get any mail at all from old friends. Most of our group at church belong to the young married Sunday school class and have toddlers. We’ve drifted apart.” Kate
’s blue eyes fixed on her, squinting in the sunlight, for she seldom bothered to wear her hat. “Why do you ask? About Kash, I mean?”
Sable laughed lightly and cast her a glance. “Oh, nothing. I just thought…well, never mind.”
Kate studied her. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
“What right do I have? It’s certainly none of my business what he does, or you for that matter. I was curious is all, because Gran said he was seeing you a lot lately.”
“You can set aside any concerns. We’re friends, nothing more. He’s been coming more often since Seth died and asking questions about Dr. Adler.” Kate glanced at her. “I think Kash was angry when he learned you were coming home to work with Vince.”
“Has he asked about me much?”
Kate hesitated. “You know him better than I. What do you think?”
“I don’t know if I know him as well or not,” Sable said quietly, looking off in the direction of Mount Kilimanjaro.
“That’s an odd statement. You’ve dated him off and on since your seventeenth birthday. I always thought the two of you would go off together one day and get married in Nairobi.”
Sable glanced at the ground, watching the dust rise. “I’d never do that,” she said quietly.
“Did Kash ever ask you?”
Sable stopped, surprised, and faced Kate curiously. “Ask me to marry him?”
“Yes, by quietly going to Nairobi without anyone knowing.”
Sable’s eyes searched her sister’s. “Yes, but I said no.”
Kate looked knowingly at Sable. “I thought he might have—years ago.”
“He didn’t think Father would agree, and he didn’t want to come back here to live. He wanted us to make it on our own—in South Africa.”
Kate was silent, and they walked on in wordless understanding.
“The whole time I was in Toronto I was sorry I didn’t do it,” murmured Sable. “I kept asking the Lord, did I make a mistake? Would it have been so wrong?”
“Maybe not wrong, but you’d have disappointed the family.” Kate sighed and swished a fly. “Sometimes a person has to, though. They always wanted a big wedding for us both, and to have their new son-in-law move into the old family house and= take his seat at the family dining table prepared to carry on,= if not in deed, at least in thought. Well,” she said wryly, “they’ve ended up with two single daughters who are anything but typical.”
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