“I thought most farmers just hired beekeepers to set up their hives in the fields, to supplement the local bee population,” Jeff remarked. Lara reached over and patted his knee, like a kindly old aunt with a favorite nephew.
“Bonus points for you, bright boy. Many do, but it’s not always enough. Most of the farmers still rely on herbicides and pesticides to protect their crops, which can also kill our winged friends.”
“The mite infestations have done grave damage, too,” my father pointed out. “And so have their other predators -- hungry birds, reptiles, amphibians....It’s really a matter of educating farmers on taking a more active role in protecting the helpful insects while managing the the unhelpful ones. Studies have shown that in California, where almond farmers added extra hives, their crop yield was significantly higher.”
“I still say my version of the birds and the bees is more exciting,” Liz said, pretending to yawn as she stretched in her chair, “and a lot more fun.”
“Mother!”
“Jefferson, be honest. Wouldn’t you rather be strolling in the moonlight with this charming young lady than discussing mites and snakes and critters that crawl on the ground?”
“Ah....”
“See? He can’t deny it.” Liz turned to P. J. and the others. “Oh, thank heavens my son inherited some sense from me. There’s hope for him yet.”
“On that note....” Jeff stood up. “It’s getting late. Perhaps we can pick this up again in the morning. Are you game, Lara?”
“I will be happy to continue my lecture tomorrow, when we get to the coffee plantation. Pay attention, because there will be a pop quiz when I am done,” she wagged a finger at us, smiling. “I want you all to remember that without pollinators, plants bear no fruit.”
“And where would we be without the fruit of the good earth?” my father asked rhetorically. “You’ll enjoy the gardens, Chris.”
For a moment, I thought wistfully of my mother. All of this talk made me too aware of how much I missed her. Maybe it was because I had not spent much time with my father since her death. I had no one to share those memories with once I moved to Rhode Island, so I kept my feelings bottled up from the world, to protect my new identity. At times it felt like I had shoved the ghost of my mother into that bottle before recapping it.
Or maybe it was the delight I experienced in being here on Kauai, surrounded by such lush tropical foliage that brought her memory to mind. She would appreciate the work my father was so determined to do now for Kauai’s farmers. Was some of his enthusiasm part of her legacy, a way for him to remember and honor her?
My mother always took great pains to entice the useful insects into her landscapes. She insisted it was far kinder than spraying with harsh chemicals. In her butterfly gardens, she landscaped with shrubs and perennials that lured them to linger among the blossoms. To her, there was nothing prettier than the sight of those fluttering wings against a blue sky on a sunny day, hovering about brightly colored flowers in an aerial dance. She was right.
“Count me in,” Jeff smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“What do you think, Chris? Does that sound good to you?” my dad asked me, his expression hopeful. “It’s not far from here. We’ll be heading to the west side of the island.”
“It sounds lovely, Dad. How can I not go?” I smiled. It wasn’t just the chance to see coffee and spices in their native environment; with my father as one of my guides on the tour -- it was also a chance to spend some time with Jeff and his family, something he clearly wanted us to do as a new couple. “What time?”
“How does nine o’clock sound?” Lara suggested.
“Perfect. I’ll collect Chris a few minutes earlier,” Jeff promised. “Why don’t I walk you back to your condo now and make sure you and Cooper get in safely?”
“Thank you,” I smiled. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Not at all. It’s my pleasure.”
“I’ll say goodnight, everyone.” I bid the group farewell, giving my father an affectionate hug in passing. “See you in the morning.”
“Sleep tight, Chris.”
“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” I automatically replied, just as I had in my youth.
“Ah, better you should have butterfly kisses to send you into dreamland,” he laughed. “Bed bugs are the stuff of nightmares.”
“So true.”
“It’s such a fine night, Jefferson, there’s no reason to rush back home,” Liz called to her son. “There’s a sky full of stars, should you feel inclined....”
“Good heavens, the woman is relentless,” growled the man at my elbow, urging me forward. “What in God’s name is she trying to do?”
“I think she’s trying to get you married off.”
“You think? It’s a good thing I already love you, or I’d dump you faster than Kim Kardashian dumped Kris Humphries, just to teach her not to meddle in my life.”
I could barely contain my mirth as we hurried into the building and up to my penthouse on the top floor. As soon as we were inside, I burst out laughing. “You would do that? Give me up just to punish her?”
“Well, I might pretend to give you up, just to give her a good scare.”
“You, sir, are shameless!”
His strong arms wrapped around me, fastening our bodies together with a strength that surprised and excited me. I wanted to get lost in the passion that welled up in me. I wanted to be swept away by the desire I felt for him and the desire I knew he felt for me. I wanted to lose myself in the moment, but Jeff suddenly pulled away from me.
“I should go,” he told me, his voice still husky with unspoken love. “We don’t want to give the incurable romantics any reason to think their work as matchmakers is done, or your father any reason to think my pursuit of you is anything but honorable.”
“Rats!” I groaned, trying hard to reel in my disappointment.
“Don’t worry, Chris. We have a lifetime to catch up on all the love we’ve missed. I’ll make it up to you.”
“I hope so.” With our arms entwined, we crossed the living room.
“I know so.” He paused at the door, his hand on the knob, to kiss me one more time. How I hated to see him go. “Shall I meet you here at eight?”
“You shall, I’ll see you then.”
I lay in bed a short time later, Cooper beside me. I could hear the soothing sound of the ocean in the distance; the waves rolled in and out in a rhythm that seemed to say all was right with the world. That was the moment I realized my days of running really were over. There was no boogey man hiding under my bed or in the closet. There was no hired hit man lurking in the shadows. For the first time in weeks, ever since I left my Lake Placid apartment, I was actually alone at night, on my own. I had only my canine companion for company, and he was quite content to curl up at my side and sleep. Things were definitely looking up for the former Marigold Flowers. This was paradise.
I was up at seven, in time to see the morning light trickle into the bedroom through the slats of the plantation shutters. After slipping into shorts and a tee shirt, I stepped out onto the balcony to enjoy the splendor that lay before me.
The resort was quiet at this time of morning. A few beachcombers were straggling back from their early morning strolls along the shore -- early birds who had gotten up to watch the sun rise over the water. That golden orange orb seemed to float just above the horizon, its beautiful glow spreading across the calm waters like liquid gold. It augured a promising start to the day.
“What do you think, boy? Is it time to go out?” Cooper’s little tail wagged enthusiastically at the offer. With his harness on, the dog and I went down in the elevator and out to the path for Cooper’s first walk of the day.
My gaze strayed over to the Cornwalls’ lanai. P. J.’s head was buried in his newspaper as he and his wife sat at the outdoor dining table. Liz waved, coffee mug in hand. She turned towards the sliding glass doors and a moment later, Jeff appeared. He hurried over to w
here I stood, waiting for Cooper to finish his sniffing exercise.
“How did you sleep, Chris?”
“Very well, thanks. How about you?”
“I can’t complain. Let’s take the little guy on the bike path.”
We walked as the sun ascended in the sky; we were deep in discussion about Hawaiian life. Jeff had explored all of the islands, and he had several favorite experiences. By the time we got back, it was seven thirty. The others had already assembled for breakfast. We could see them sitting at a table on the restaurant terrace.
“Shall we join them?”
“Oh, I wanted to shower before we leave for the farm,” I sighed, disappointed.
“There’s still time. If you’ve got eggs and bread, I’ll make us some breakfast at your place.”
“Lovely!”
Chapter Fifty Three
I hurried through my shower, and when I emerged with wet hair fifteen minutes later, I found Jeff had made a pot of coffee for us. He sat at the glass dining table on the lanai, checking his emails while he waited for me. Coop was dozing at his feet, content to lie in the early morning sun.
“I’m keeping the toast and scrambled eggs warm in the oven,” he informed me.
“A girl could get used to this,” I grinned.
“A girl should,” was his recommendation. “Are you ready to meet the real deal?”
“Real deal for what?”
“Let’s see how long it takes you to figure out this mystery,” was all Jeff would say, no matter how hard I tried to wheedle the answer out of him.
We joined the others down in the parking lot just before nine. It was decided that Jeff would drive us, since his rented SUV had room for seven. I climbed into the far back with Coop. Much to my surprise, Liz scrambled in beside me. My dad and Lara took the middle seats. That left Jeff and his dad up in front.
“Have you been to Hawaii before, Chris?” Jeff’s mother wanted to know.
“No, it’s my first trip. This has beach and mountains -- it’s so different from Florida.”
I cringed as soon as that slipped out, chastising myself for giving too much personal information. I knew I wasn’t supposed to talk about where I had previously been. It had been drilled into my brain over the years by the marshals. But here, no one seemed to notice or think it odd.
“Very,” Liz replied smoothly. “Like night and day.”
“The best place to grow coffee on Kauai tends to be on the southwest side of the island, which is better protected from the trade winds,” my father explained as we got under way. “It’s important to have the right mix of sun, good volcanic soil, and water.”
Jeff drove us south, hugging the coast along the Kuhio Highway. We chatted as the miles fell away. When he eventually turned onto Route 50, meandering across the island in the direction of Kalaheo, I noticed the wind had picked up. The terrain was very different at this elevation.
“You’ll find there are several large reservoirs up here,” P. J. announced from the front seat. “There’s some great sport fishing to be found on Kauai.”
“Freshwater fish?” My father had long been a dedicated angler.
“Absolutely. My favorite is the peacock bass, because it will fight every step of the way.”
I let my mind wander as the men discussed tackle and bait. It had been a long time since I had felt at home in a crowd, but I did now with Lara and the Cornwalls. It felt good to belong.
A short time later, Jeff turned onto Umiumi Road and we soon spotted a sign for the Paradise Coffee and Spice Company. In the distance, we could see coffee trees planted in neat rows on the hillside. Further down the road, Lara pointed out a grove of cacao trees on one side of the road and banana, breadfruit, guava, and citrus trees on the other.
Entering through an open gateway, flanked on either side by colorful tropical flower beds, Jeff steered the SUV up the long and winding driveway, leading us through pastureland. A couple of horses grazed contentedly in one field. In the adjacent field were a dozen or so goats.
“Those kikos are used for vegetation management, Chris,” my father announced. “They get rid of the weeds.”
“Indeed,” Lara concurred. “They’re bred to be hardy, self-sufficient foragers. Every few weeks, the herd gets rotated to another pasture. Nature’s lawnmowers.”
Along the fence, a mix of daisies and Black-eyed Susans seemed to hum with activity. I could see butterflies and bees hovering around the blossoms.
“Isn’t it glorious?” There was awe in Lara’s voice as she gazed out the window at the sight.
“Beautiful,” said my father.
I glanced up in time to see my father smile affectionately at the woman next to him, and as I did, I felt a gentle poke in the side. Liz gave me a conspiratorial grin.
“Looks like the birds and bees are hard at work,” she remarked slyly. I stifled a giggle.
“They are,” Lara sighed, a gleam in her eyes, “so very busy.”
At the top of the hill sat a lush garden. Here the driveway separated into two directions. The left fork led towards a big green barn, situated in a grove of hardwood trees; the right fork continued to the top of the hill, where a traditional Hawaiian-style house with an expansive covered lanai sat.
As Jeff steered the SUV toward the barn, I gazed at the colorful flowers and decided this was one of the butterfly gardens created to entice the pollinators. I could see purple passion flowers climbing up the rustic trellis at the entrance. Roses thrived in the abundant morning sunshine, their cheerful pink heads pointed up at the sky. Bougainvillea, heavy with fuchsia blossoms, cascaded over the rustic split rail fence. Stacked beehive boxes, painted in pastel colors, were scattered here and there along the pathways, surrounded by thistles, bee balm, and daisies that invited the bees to get busy. Centered in a gravel courtyard in the middle of the lush landscaping, a gurgling verdigris fish seemed to leap through the air, as a gentle trickle of water spilled from its mouth into the small pool below.
“Camille promised to meet us at the barn,” Liz announced to the group. “She said we should park in the shade.”
Jeff followed his mother’s instructions, pulling the SUV under the leafy canopy of a monkey pod tree. He rolled up the windows before shutting off the Explorer. We all piled out, stretching our legs as we gazed at the horizon before us. Here we were, near the top of Kauai.
“I can’t believe we can see the ocean from up here. It’s gorgeous,” I said with admiration. “And look at those mountains!”
“Beautiful,” my father agreed. “It’s enough to take your breath away.”
“It is. Ah, there she is!” Lara suddenly reached her arm up, waving her hand in the air. A petite woman in a colorful sundress, her hair twisted into an elaborate French braid, strode across the driveway, waving back at us cheerfully.
“Bonjour! Bonjour! At last, you have come to my farm!” Camille hugged Lara, Liz, and P. J. in turn before shaking hands with my father and me. Her blue eyes were warm, her smile gracious. When she got to Jeff, she gave him a dimpled smile. “After all this time, you finally deign to visit us! Étienne will be thrilled to see you again, mon ami.”
She kissed Jeff on both cheeks before she threw her arms around him for a hug, mindful of his back. I noticed he returned the affection.
“You look well,” she told him. “It has been too long.”
“It has. But I am here now and I can’t wait for the tour. Your farm is amazing, truly amazing. How many acres do you have?”
As I watched the happy reunion, I found myself wondering if Nora Hazen had been a complete figment of Lisbeth Causley’s imagination. Perhaps not. Perhaps Camille was a friend of the woman who inspired Vanilla Orchid Magic.
We went inside the barn, the heart of the Paradise Coffee and Spice Company. Inside, there were people working at long sorting tables. To one side, big plastic bags of green coffee beans were stacked on pallets.
“We send the beans to the Kauai Roastery in Waimea. The Loero fa
mily takes care of packaging and shipping our estate coffee once it’s out of the roasting machine, so it is not necessary for us to maintain our own facilities. That allows us to focus on the farming end of the coffee business.”
My father and Lara were in all their glory, discussing coffee with Camille as we moved through the barn’s interior. A short time later, an attractive, fifty-something man with an infectious grin wandered in.
“Étienne!”
“Jefferson!”
“Chrisanth, Woody, I’d like you to meet my husband.” Camille introduced us to the newcomer. As she stood there, her arm around the Frenchman’s waist, I realized I was staring at the real-life versions of Nora and Jean-Claude.
I’m not sure what it was that gave it all away. Maybe it was the way Jeff studied husband and wife, as if searching for signs of discontent or discord in their relationship. Why did it matter so much to him?
Camille had an easygoing, affable personality, much like Nora’s, but I could imagine her easily speaking her mind with confidence. Her husband clearly adored her, watching her affectionately as she herded us towards the door.
“You’ll have to forgive the hectic activity in here. The company has a rush order to ship, so there’s a scramble to get the beans all bagged and trucked to the roaster. Let’s step outside and we’ll show you around the farm. This is a good time of day to visit. The sun is not too hot. We’ll ride.”
We piled into electric golf carts and spent the next three quarters of an hour examining the different crops grown at the Paradise Coffee and Spice Company. Camille took Liz and the botanists in her cart, navigating the dirt path to the citrus grove. Étienne drove P. J., Jeff and me in his cart. After admiring the orange, lemon, and grapefruit trees, we moved on to the bananas, and from there, to the mountain apples.
My father wanted to know all about the drip irrigation system used on the farm. Camille showed him the tubing that was installed along each of the rows. Lara wanted to know whether the coffee trees that showed the greatest amount of fungus were closest to the water source and whether the water itself might actually be helping to spread the rust. When Camille and the botanists began to discuss the situation in depth, Étienne led the rest of us deeper into the tropical forest, along a trail that passed a waterfall cascading down the hillside.
Reluctant Witness Page 45
