by Lakes, Lynde
Fighting her own lingering fear, she stood on tiptoe, hoping to catch a glimpse of Grandfather Keo. Then she saw him—her beloved kupuna kane. More gray highlighted his black hair than in the bent-edged picture in her wallet.
He cut through the crowd with the assurance of a mighty king. When he caught sight of her, his face lit up with joy and he opened his arms. They were warm and strong. “You’re no longer a little girl,” he said, holding her away from him. He stepped back, an uneasy look darkening his eyes. He said something under his breath, so low she wasn’t sure she’d heard any of it right. “My God…resemblance…uncanny.” Before she could ask what he’d said, he smiled again. “You’re a grown woman. And a lovely one, with that flame-red hair and those heart-stealing brown eyes.”
He placed the fragrant pikake lei he carried around her neck and kissed her cheek. Against her skin, the lei’s velvety, cool petals contrasted with the warmth radiating from her necklace.
“Thank you.” She touched the lava stone lovingly. “And thank you for this.”
Grandfather’s dark, Hawaiian face turned ashy. “It’s not from me,” he muttered. “Let’s get your luggage. This way.”
She had to jog to keep up with his long strides. He passed the waiting wiki-wiki buses with mulish purpose.
Lani touched the necklace again. “I love it,” she said breathlessly. “Do you have any idea who might have sent it?”
Grandfather mumbled again.
She let it go. His fast pace to the baggage claim area wasn’t conducive to conversation. Lani pointed as her luggage tumbled from the slide onto the conveyer belt. Grandfather effortlessly gathered her two bags. She jogged behind him as he hurried toward the parking structure.
What had happened to her easy-going Kupuna kane? He stopped by an older two-door, highly polished yellow Toyota, free of rust and dents. He put her luggage in the trunk and slammed down the lid.
“Nice car,” she said lamely. “Mint condition. I see how you’re spending your time now that you’re retired.” The sun-warmed leather seats had a new car smell.
He nodded without comment. He must think I’m an idiot, rambling on about the car. Silence stretched between them as they headed east on H-1 toward downtown Honolulu. Lani caught Grandfather sneaking glances at her with dark, somber eyes. Although it was hot, a cold chill slipped down her spine. Had she made a mistake by coming? She refused to accept that.
As Grandfather glanced at her necklace, the car ahead slowed and he almost ran into its bumper. Again, he muttered something under his breath.
“What is it, Grandfather?”
“This bumper to bumper traffic bugs me. We’ll be through the worst of it in a minute or two.”
Lani sensed that something besides the traffic had upset him. Maybe it was because her plane had arrived late. She explained to him about the near mishap over Kilauea. The news only upset him more, so she changed the subject.
“Look, there’s Diamond Head,” she said, pointing. When she was little, she remembered riding on Grandfather’s broad shoulders as he climbed to the rim. “The crater always looked like a sleeping lion to me.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he grinned. “You said that. I couldn’t see it.”
They slipped into a string of easy chatter as he pointed out sights of interest. Now, being together felt right, natural.
“I’m surprised you remember so much.” He smiled warmly. “You were so young when we visited Honolulu. We seldom left the Big Island in those days.”
She remembered a great deal. Mom had said her extraordinary memory was a gift, but there were certain things Lani wished she could forget. Like the day she was sent away. She pushed the painful thought from her mind. The easy rapport that bubbled between her and Grandfather Keo was the way it used to be, and she clung to it.
They left the freeway and joined the stop-and-go traffic on Kalanianaole highway. Up ahead, a stretch of grassy beachfront caught Lani’s attention. The grounds were interspersed with a jumble of bushes and towering palms. A dirt path lined with leafy ferns led to a sandy beach with low breaking waves. A bewildering rush of emotion hit her. She had to feel that ground beneath her feet.
“Kupuna kane, stop!”
Grandfather pointed out that it was private land, but at her urging he pulled onto the site. She jumped out of the car, kicking off her shoes, and ran toward the beach.
Grandfather caught up with her and grabbed her hand. “Hey, what’s the hurry?”
Lani laughed. She slowed and walked beside him. He stopped along the way and picked a gardenia from a bush and handed it to her. The love in his eyes warmed her heart. She shook away the glistening dew and tucked the flower behind her ear.
She felt so aware of the surroundings. Sun-gilded palm trees with top fronds of orange-gold rustled in the trade wind. The salty breeze carried the delicate scent of gardenia and dewy grass.
Grandfather’s expression turned somber. “Your folks didn’t want you to come, did they?”
He meant her foster parents since her birth parents were dead. “Not really. But you know how they are.”
He smiled. “They’ve had you for years. Now it’s my turn.”
She squeezed Grandfather’s hand. “That’s what I thought.”
Lani sensed someone nearby, observing her every move. She rubbed her arms. An eeriness hung in the air. It was so quiet she could hear tree limbs rub together, leaves flutter, and the ocean’s low tide whisper as it rhythmically stroked the shore.
“Do you feel it, Grandfather? There’s something supernatural about this place.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Maybe we should go, Lani.”
“Not yet, please.” It spite of her discomfort, something held her.
Lani sat down on a crumbling rock wall, only a few feet from the sandy beach. She patted a spot beside her. Looking wary, Grandfather joined her. They watched the turquoise sea curl and spew its white and frothy caps, then tumble into low breaking waves that flowed inward like phantom fingers. A premonition told Lani this land would call her again.
Unable to stay away, she rushed to the mystical land by the ocean every morning for over a week, her need growing stronger and stronger each day. The sun rose higher in the sky. The morning silence was broken by a cacophony of chattering mynahs in a nearby banyan tree. The birds began their high-pitched talk with an occasional loud screech. Other birds joined them, each adding its own special call to the start of the day.
Lani wandered through the dewy grass, down toward the beach. Two net fishermen waded close to shore. When they glanced her way, she waved. Rather than return her greeting, they turned away. Their apparent apprehension unnerved her.
She took a few more steps and froze. Construction stakes stuck out of the ground! A pain shot through her as if those stakes had pierced her heart. She’d seen men hauling in a doublewide mobile home and heavy equipment. She had everything stored on a nearby parcel, but she’d never dreamed it had anything to do with this land. The obscure force that had drawn her there felt stronger than ever, watching, waiting…
Chapter Three
Fighting the prickle of the fine hairs on the back of her neck, Lani took a deep breath of determination and drove through the open gate and parked near the construction trailer. The site had been fenced. Uprooted trees and plants were piled in knotted mounds. Two men in hard hats shouted and waved their hands at a man on a giant ground-eating backhoe.
“If you can’t dig without backing into everything and tearing up the equipment,” the brawny one said, “get off and I’ll do it!”
“You can’t do any bettah, big mouth,” the operator snarled in pidgin. “It’s ‘dis damn hoe.”
“Sure,” the second man jeered, “it shifted itself into that stack of pipe.”
“Yah, dat’s what I say. The damn t’ing’s gone lolo, crazy, since we got here.”
A broad-shouldered man charged out of the trailer used as the construction office. “What’s going on out here?
” he asked. “Not a hellava lot, I can see that!” His tanned face hardened to granite. He approached the arguing men with swift, long strides.
Lani couldn’t catch his next words, but he stabbed the air with his finger and pointed to the plans in his hand, then to the shallow pit. She shivered, feeling his raw power. The men stopped arguing immediately. He had to be Cort Wayne, the boss. When he glanced in her direction, she felt a fluttering in her stomach. He looked familiar.
“What the devil is that woman doing here?” he yelled at one of the men. “Find out what she wants, then get rid of her.” He hammered orders as if they were construction nails.
Lani got out of the car. “Wait! Mr. Wayne! I must talk to you.”
****
Cort curled his hands into fists. Damn. What else could go wrong? Now some female wanted to waste his time with talk. The young woman lifted her red muumuu above her ankles and hurried toward him with the grace of a goddess. Her hair hung loosely to her waist. It was fiery in the sunlight and as she ran it flowed in the breeze, resembling flames.
She wore a yellow ginger lei around her neck, and a pendant with some kind of dark bauble suspended from it. The bauble caught the sunlight and glowed red like a hot coal and blinded him for a moment. A jolt passed through him as if he’d gripped a high-tension wire.
The woman stopped. Her eyes widened in what Cort read as a flare of fear. “It’s you!”
Suddenly, she swayed and crumpled to the ground.
Cort ran to her side. “Miss? Miss, oh God!” Feeling clumsy and inept, he leaned over her, checking her neck for a pulse. “Tom, get some water.”
What was it she’d said? It’s you. She’d looked terrified, but that didn’t make sense.
It was a hot day. He had to get her out of the sun. Cort gently lifted her. She was featherlight, the skin on her limp arms soft as silk. Her bosom rose and fell against his chest, sending what he, in less serious situations, jokingly referred as his power tool into full salute. What the hell? His lightning response to this woman was instinctive, like meeting an old lover.
Turning sideways, he carried her through the office door and lowered her to the couch. He grabbed the cushion from his chair and eased it under her head. She was a top-of-the-line Polynesian beauty. Her lips were full, tempting.
“Is she okay?” Tom asked, handing him a glass of water and a damp cloth.
Heat crawled up Cort’s neck as if he’d actually been caught kissing her. He considered putting the cool cloth to his own face. “Can’t tell. Call the paramedics.”
Tom went to the desk to make the call. Cort barely heard his foreman’s rushed words. He was too caught up in something strong—an unearthly enslavement that didn’t make sense. He was scared of the way this woman made him feel, scared he’d do something stupid. He put the cup of water aside and placed the cloth on her forehead. The intoxicating fragrance from her yellow ginger lei wafted around him. Who was she, and what was she doing here?
Again, he imagined crushing those sensual lips under his own. Why was he having these irrational feelings?
Tom hung up the phone. “The medics are on their way. Shall I wait here?”
“No. Thanks. Go on back to work.” Cort could use a chaperone, that was for damned sure, but he didn’t want one.
The young woman’s face was pale, the palest shade of honey, tinged with a flush of pink on her high cheekbones. Her slanting eyelids fluttered open, revealing large, amber-flecked brown eyes with a mysterious smoldering glow. He imagined her naked. Heat raced to his groin again, coursed upward, setting his whole body on fire. Dear Jesus, what was this?
No woman had ever affected him this way. He felt like running, staying. “Are you feeling better?”
She nodded, looking dazed. He held the cup of water to her lips.
****
Lani gratefully sipped the water the man offered her. He was a blur. She blinked to bring the world back into focus. The man’s face took form. Everything came rushing back. “It is you. Oh, God no.”
Was she caught in that dream again? Those green eyes, the golden hair, that powerful body. Her heartbeat quickened. Every feature was identical. Her dream man was real!
“I’m sure we haven’t met,” he said. “I wouldn’t have forgotten you.”
His words were too charged with tension to be mistaken for a come on. She’d bet his blood pressure would shoot as high as snow-tipped Mauna Kea if she told him he was the stranger with arms of steel in her recurring nightmare.
“Then forget it,” she said.
His eyes darkened, and their intensity grew stronger. “What’s this all about? Why’d you come here today?”
She searched the edges of her mind for an answer. It seemed there was this explosive spirit within her soul, bent on drawing her into chaos. Somehow she and Cort were the pawns in something she didn’t understand.
Outside, the grind of the giant ground-eating shovel marred the silence that stretched between them like an extended coil about to snap. The site had been peaceful before he brought in his equipment.
She touched the stone on the chain around her neck, uncertain why she craved its reassuring warmth. “To see you, Mr. Wayne.”
“Cort.” His impatient comeback sliced the air like a cracking whip, warning that the reply wasn’t to be construed as friendly. Why did he have to stare at her like that? Heat rose to her cheeks. Although she felt she knew him too well—at least his disturbing image, the golden Adonis who came to her in her dreams—to call him Mr. Wayne, it’d be safer.
Lani started to sit up. The room spun.
Cort gently pushed her back down against the pillow. “The Paramedics will be here soon.”
She fought lightheadedness and an uncharacteristic urge to yield to his strong, authoritative voice. “Please, I don’t need medical care.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “When someone faints on my site, it’s standard procedure to call the EMTs. It’s an insurance thing. If you refuse their help when they get here, that’s up to you. I’m off the hook. But it’ll be best to let them check you over.” He paused and studied her face. “Why did you faint? Are you ill?”
She shook her head. How could she explain that the shock of seeing him had drained the blood from her head? How could she explain to herself that he really existed? “This has never happened before.”
Lani glanced around, trying to ground herself in reality. Her breath caught. This office was the same as the one in her nightmare, from the project map on the sidewall to the large oil painting hanging behind the desk. She focused on the scene of Kilauea erupting. How could this be? “The painting looks so real,” she said, more to herself than to him.
“Madame Pele put on a spectacular show for me that day.”
His neck flushed. Was he embarrassed by his reference to the goddess, or did he believe she existed?
“You painted that?”
Cort nodded, and Lani was amused when he graced her with a small grin. Hmmm. So the gruff construction boss could actually smile. And a very nice smile at that. Will miracles never cease? And he was a talented painter. It surprised her that this hard-muscled construction boss had achieved those passionate strokes. What would it be like to have him touch her with such passion? Good grief, what am I thinking?
He moved toward her, sending more fluttery quivers to her stomach. She forced herself to concentrate on the painting. Vivid oranges and reds almost jumped off the canvas, bringing back the terror she’d felt on the off-course flight from San Diego. Somehow the pilot had managed to keep the plane from plunging into the raging crater, but she feared the hair-raising experience would haunt her forever.
“Miss…er…What’s your name?” Cort asked, sounding as off balance as she felt.
“Piilani Ward. Lani.”
“Who gave you my name, Lani?”
“No mystery. It’s on your construction billboard.” She rubbed her temples. How absurd. Here she was discussing names while her sense of reality was bei
ng tested.
“Why did you want to see me?” His words shot out, his tone deep and businesslike as though he felt back in command.
Lani took a shaky breath. “There’s a problem, Cort. You can’t build here.”
One of his dark, thick eyebrows shot upward. “Oh yeah? Why?”
Good grief. She realized for the first time that she didn’t exactly know. All she knew was she had to stop him from tearing up the land. She hadn’t thought this through. What did she think—that she’d march up to this man and tell him to halt the project and he would immediately abandon everything?
She rubbed her head. Why can’t I latch onto an explanation I’ll understand, one he’ll buy?
As if in response to her need for something to persuade him, new information downloaded into her head. “There are, ah…dead people…Hawaiian…ah…things buried here.” She babbled like an idiot, but her thoughts came haltingly. Slowly her scattered thoughts formed into a significant meaning. “There are sacred relics here that mustn’t be disturbed.”
Wow. The site was a burial ground! She didn’t know how she knew about the relics, but her pulse picked up at the revelation.
Cort folded his tanned arms, bunching impressive muscles. “Where’s your proof?”
“Well, I don’t have any, yet, but…” She took another deep breath. “As you know, it’s illegal to destroy burial grounds and ancient artifacts.” Lani swallowed to buoy up her courage to finish what she needed to say. “Now that I’ve told you, I intend to see that you obey the law.”
His gaze held hers, silently mulling everything over. When he finally spoke, she heard the forced patience in his voice. “What kind of credentials do you have for all this, Lani?”
“None…but…but the ground will speak for itself.” God, she’d need some kind of proof to close him down.
His confident, steady look didn’t waver. “Look, you’re annoying the hell out of me. What are you? Some kind of environmental nut gone off the deep end?”
