Aloha Love

by Yvonne Lehman

  Sometimes he was there. He didn’t seem to mind her presence, but his mind obviously was on the horse. One day when Mak wasn’t there, Chico brought Panai over to the fence and dismounted.

  He barely spoke to Jane and looked distressed. “Be back in a minute, Tomas.”

  “Your stomach again?” Tomas said.

  Chico ran into the stable. Tomas looked worried. “He’s been getting that lately,” he confided to Jane. “Seems to be getting worse.”

  Chico soon returned. “I feel better now,” he said, but his brown skin looked pasty.

  “You’re in no condition—” Tomas began.

  “I have no choice, Tomas. You know that.”

  There was only one thing a well-meaning girl could do. Not that she wanted Chico to be sick, but her heartbeat accelerated at what she was thinking. “Let me ride him,” Jane said.

  The two men looked at her like she was loco.

  “No way,” Chico said at the same time Tomas said, “Never happen.”

  “Why not?”

  Chico looked like a little color had returned to his face. “Nobody rides Panai but me and the boss.”

  “I rode Panai with the boss, remember?”

  “But that was a pleasure ride. He didn’t take the horse for all he was worth.”

  “Let me be your substitute. I’ll give Panai a good workout.”

  As if Panai understood, he stepped up and nuzzled the side of Jane’s face with his soft nose. She turned, laughed, and patted the lucky white spot on his face. “See, he loves me.”

  Chico seemed to hold his breath.

  Tomas glared at him. “You’ll have to fight me to get on that horse, Chico.”

  “Tomas, my health means nothing if I don’t win this race for Mr. Mak. You know that’s what will bring back to us the man he used to be.”

  “And what was that?” Jane said.

  Tomas looked away as Chico said, “Not depressed, I guess. He’s not been right for three years. Just as I can tell when a horse likes a person, I can tell when a man likes a woman. Mr. Mak likes you, Miss Jane. If you were not wearing that ring, you maybe could help him get back his sanity.”

  “Thank you, Chico.” But if she wasn’t wearing that ring, she wouldn’t be there.

  Chico grabbed his stomach, then let out a ragged breath. “Just one time around. Slow.” He paused, looking doubtful. “He may not even let you get on him.”

  “Of course he will,” she said to Panai, who seemed to nod in agreement. “We understand each other.”

  He nodded. “I’ve heard you teaching Miss Leia. You know horses.”

  Jane thought that was a pretty good compliment coming from a jockey who would race a horse against the king’s horse.

  “Please let me help,” Jane said. “Mak trusts me with his daughter. Surely a horse isn’t more important than his daughter.”

  Both men stared at her as if they weren’t sure about that. Neither was she.

  ”Chico, give me a few pointers on how a jockey sits and leans into the horse.”

  He did, and when he said, “You have to control him, hold him back,” she knew he was consenting and began climbing the fence.

  “You can’t let him go at top speed. He wants to, but he has to save that for the race. He’ll understand when he gets on that racetrack. But for now, he has to hold back.”

  Jane remembered Mak leaning into her and telling Panai that exact thing. She could do it.

  Like Mak had guided Panai the day she rode with them, she started him at a trot, then picked up speed. She could tell he wanted to go, but he yielded to her control. If she gave the signal, or he decided to, he could jump that fence and they’d fly away like a bird.

  Now, there was no Mak to distract her. As much as she wanted to give full rein, she held Panai—and herself—back. Nevertheless, although she thought she’d ridden like the wind before, now she knew she had not. Panai took her for the ride of her life, as if she had wings.

  As they neared Tomas and Chico, she didn’t want to stop. But she had to obey the rules.

  Tomas and Chico complimented her profusely. There was only one thing she could say. “That was almost as exhilarating as a green sunset. . .almost.”

  Thirty-one

  Mid-February arrived. So did Austin, Buck Buckley, and Inez Ashcroft. The bells rang, and the islanders turned out to watch the liner come in. Mak knew he had to be there. These American visitors were relatives and friends of. . .his new friends. To stay away would be the height of impropriety.

  So he stood back as he had done when Jane, Matilda, and Pilar had arrived. He held his hat in his hand and observed as his mother and Leia, along with his new friends and Rev. Russell gave leis and hugs and kisses.

  Jane and Austin’s kiss was brief. But they were in public.

  He mustn’t stand aside as if not a part of the group, so he stepped up and held out his hand to be introduced. Miz Ashcroft was a fine-looking woman. The men would be tremendously impressive to the islanders, who never got their fill of what, or who, a ship might bring in. They would not be disappointed by these men, fine specimens of what cultured westerners should look like.

  Mak felt rather like a rugged paniolo in comparison. On second thought, he supposed that’s what he was.

  Then Jane was telling her father that Mak’s ranch was even bigger than his.

  Her daddy almost roared. “I didn’t know they made ranches any bigger than what’s in Texas.” He pointed at Mak. “This I gotta see to believe, son.”

  “Will be my pleasure.” Despite his dignified appearance, Mr. Buckley, who said to call him “Buck,” smiled broadly, and Mak liked what he believed was genuine friendliness.

  “And this,” Jane said, “is my. . .Austin.”

  Was she going to say my fiancé? Or was she saying “my Austin” for emphasis? It didn’t really matter. Mak shook the hand of the well-dressed, nice-looking, tall, friendly man. Like looking at a horse, you could tell when it was well-bred.

  Mak said what he needed to say to friends of his friends. “Jane, I know you’ll want to show Austin the island. I’ll handle Leia’s lessons. Next week, if it’s convenient, come out to the ranch for dinner, and I’ll show everyone the ranch.”

  “Yes,” his mother said. “Buck and you, Inez. And of course”—she gestured around—“all of you.”

  ❧

  A week later when Mak’s mother and daughter returned from school, his mother said Jane wanted to come the following afternoon for Leia’s lesson. Austin would come with her, and Mak might want to show him the ranch.

  Just as Mak was thinking they probably weren’t interested in accepting his polite dinner invitation, his mother added, “They are looking forward to having dinner with us, Mak. And Buck is anxious to see the ranch. Right now, they’re getting Inez settled in Pilar’s bedroom. Buck and Austin are staying in a hotel in town.”

  “They could have stayed here.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “You didn’t ask them to.”

  When Austin and Jane rode up, Mak realized he hadn’t asked Austin if he would like to take one of his horses while on the island. But one couldn’t think of everything upon first meeting. Austin wore a smart-looking riding outfit and rode on a fine-looking horse he must have rented in town.

  He and Jane looked. . .good together.

  Leia came out in her riding outfit, ready for her lesson. Austin said he’d heard she was a very good rider and had a pony named Star. “Texas is called the Lone Star State,” he said.

  Mak remembered he and Jane had talked about that and laughed together.

  Leia looked up at him. “I don’t ever want Miss Jane to leave. Are you going to take her away?”

  After a quick glance at Jane, he knelt in front of Leia, getting down to her size. “Well, from what I’ve seen of Hawaii this week and from what I’ve heard, it seems that many people who come here never want to leave.”

  Leia seemed to take that as fact. She smiled and took Jane’s hand in h
ers. They headed for the corral.

  As the two men rode out on the range, Mak noted that Austin sat in the saddle like one accustomed to good riding habits. He wondered if Austin was really interested in seeing a ranch. But what else did he have to show him? Then it occurred to him. He could show friendship.

  Before he could ask Austin about the oil business, however, Austin said, “Mak, Jane told me about your wife. I’m sorry about that.”

  That was nice of him, and Mak acknowledged it with a nod. “Have you ever lost anyone close?” he asked.

  “Not immediate family,” he said. “I’ve been blessed.”

  Mak wondered how Austin would feel if he lost a wife. . .or a loved one. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

  “From what Jane’s said about you, Austin, I get the impression you’ve never loved anyone but her.” He was surprised when Austin hesitated.

  Austin looked out over the range and the corral as they approached it. Finally, he said, “To be honest with you, Mak, I’ve had my years of indiscretion, sorry to say. During college, but they were passing fancies.”

  Mak said what was on his mind. “I’m surprised you waited so long to marry her.”

  “So am I, in a way,” Austin said. “After my college years, I was ready to make that lifetime commitment. She wasn’t. She was smarter than I in knowing she wasn’t ready. I was willing to wait and threw myself into the business.”

  Mak thought Austin had a good outlook on things. He was surprised that he talked so openly about his and Jane’s relationship. But then, Austin was talking about someone he had a future with. Mak didn’t have a future with Maylea.

  “I’ve given this a lot of thought in the past few months,” Austin went on, “being thousands of miles from Jane, with her completely out of reach. I knew when she said she would come to Hawaii it would be a milestone. She’d told me she would be ready to settle down after this trip.” Austin was nodding. “I was right. She’s different.”

  That surprised Mak. “Different?”

  Austin nodded. “Different than when she was in Texas. She’s matured. She’s found purpose in teaching your daughter and in being your friend along with relating to her uncle Russell.”

  “She’s changed my life.” Mak felt warm under Austin’s scrutiny.

  “Mak, I don’t think Jane knows she’s changed your life.”

  “Well, I haven’t changed a lot of my actions or my attitudes, so it doesn’t show.”

  “The changes in Jane show. I now know that at eighteen, she couldn’t be the mature woman I wanted.” He smiled over at Mak. “She’s matured a lot since being here. Her goal is no longer winning the top spot in equestrienne events.”

  “What?”

  Austin laughed lightly. “She’s always been second. Absolutely couldn’t stand it to think anyone would beat her in any competition.”

  “I figured she was first,” Mak said.

  Austin shook his head. “Second.”

  Mak was trying to absorb why the conversation was going this way. Was Austin warning him not to take Jane’s relating to him personally because she found purpose in it? Was he saying don’t bother letting Jane know she changed your life, because she’d never accept being second place, or rather second wife, in a man’s life? Had Jane told Austin about the green-sunset friendly kiss?

  Mak drew a deep breath. He started to say maybe they shouldn’t be talking about her. But Austin said he and Jane had talked about him. Austin and Jane had talked about Mak. What should a man in love talk about—coconut palms?

  They rode up to the racetrack and dismounted to watch Chico give Panai his workout. He could tell Austin appreciated the horse, but not the in way he and Jane did. Then again, Austin wasn’t a horseman; he was an oil man.

  Mak mentioned they might go back to the house, but Austin expressed the desire to ride farther. “Jane mentioned the sugar fields.”

  “Yes, we’ll ride out that way,” he said, glad Austin wasn’t bored.

  “Mak,” Austin said, as they rode across the velvety green range. “You asked if I lost anyone. I’ve heard about your situation. So I’m going to be honest with you.”

  Which situation? came instantly to Mak’s mind. Then he reminded himself there was only one situation, and that was the loss of his wife and his getting revenge on that horse because of it.

  “I haven’t lost a person,” Austin said, “but when I was abroad studying in England, away from authority, from prying eyes, I lost my way for a while. I lost my relationship with God through philandering. I didn’t even think of it that way at the time. My letters home were the same, my feelings for Jane and family were the same. But the—I guess you call it the baser side—surfaced. At the time I called it fun, just young people having fun.”

  Mak nodded. “I suppose many of us can identify with that, Austin.”

  Austin agreed. “But after graduation, I realized how foolish I’d been, how I’d disappointed God. I felt like a worm. By the way,” he said, looking over at Mak. “I didn’t tell Jane about that. I had to find myself, to identify with God. There comes a defining moment when. . .”

  Mak’s mind wandered. A moment. . .a kiss. . .a green sunset. But what was Austin saying? A moment when a person as an adult decided to live for the Lord, no matter what. No longer straddle the fence.

  “I felt Jane would find that in this trip, and she has.”

  Mak realized Austin was describing a spiritually defining moment. He’d never thought of things in quite that way. If he tried to identify a defining moment, it would be when he decided to marry Maylea, be a husband, a dad, a man.

  But was that a commitment to a woman, to a lifestyle. . .and not to God? To love and serve Him, regardless? No, he had not had a spiritually defining moment as an adult.

  Maybe after Panai won the race, he would think on these things. Everything would have changed then. He would have had his revenge. Jane, Austin, and the others would leave Hawaii. Leia would again be without a mother figure except the one who should only be a grandmother.

  “Thank you, Austin, for your honest words.” A short ironic laugh came from his throat. “I wouldn’t be able to talk with you or even listen to anything personal, anything spiritual, had Jane not laid the groundwork.”

  “Maybe that’s because we’re visitors to the island, Mak. We won’t be around to remind you of your having spoken your heart.”

  They came to the fence and stopped the horses. “That’s sugar cane,” he said, and they gazed out on the acres of slender green leaves swaying in the gentle breeze.

  Mak knew Jane was the one who had encouraged him to speak his heart. “Austin, I don’t think I spoke personally because you’re a visitor who will leave. I wouldn’t mind if you were a permanent resident. I think we could be friends.”

  Austin nodded. “I think we are. Who knows? Jane might decide she doesn’t want to leave. This is a special place. I can understand why it’s called paradise.”

  Mak liked having a friend, speaking his heart to a man. Most men didn’t do that. Austin was, as Jane had implied, a special kind of man. Like Rev. Russell in some ways. Yes, it would be nice to have a male friend. But things with Jane would be different. They should not have kissed; she should not have seen the green sunset.

  His heart was troubled. Without being obvious, he turned his head far enough to see Austin’s expression.

  The man looked at peace. There was a warmth in his eyes, a strength in his being. Probably that came from loving and being loved by a wonderful woman with whom he planned to spend his life. Yet Austin had attributed his confidence to a relationship with God.

  Thirty-two

  “Daddy,” Jane said, “is there something between you and Inez that I need to know about?”

  “Nothing I can talk about until after I have my beautiful daughter married off and settled. Now, how long you gonna keep me waitin’, girl?”

  “You don’t have to wait for me, Daddy.”

  “But I will. I’m not ab
out to have some old maid spinster around tying me down.” He laughed and drew her into his arms.

  Later, Uncle Russell was showing the school, church, and town to the others. Jane and Matilda sat at the table, drinking Kona coffee and talked about how Inez had taken on the airs of a demure southern lady, widow of the once-prominent Mr. Ashcroft, and worthy of the likes of Mr. John Buckley.

  Jane thought she was.

  “Do you think she would consider letting Pilar stay in Hawaii?”

  “Pilar is making a good argument for it. She has plans to attend that nursing school along with Susanne. Inez was impressed by that.”

  Jane sighed. “I know how Pilar feels. I would love to stay in Hawaii for a long time. Austin mentioned having a second home here.”

  Matilda gave her a long look. “Isn’t that supposed to make you happy?”

  “Well, it would really be three homes. One of them would be the long voyages from Hawaii to America and back again. And those ships are not yachts.”

  “My dear Jane,” Matilda said resolutely, “When you’re in love, you don’t care if it’s Texas, Hawaii, the middle of the ocean, or the swamps in Florida. You just want to be with the one you love.”

  Jane brought her hand down on the table. “Of course it makes a difference.”

  Matilda wasn’t rattled by her reaction. “Certainly, you can prefer some places over another. But you wouldn’t choose a place over the one you love.”

  Jane took a deep breath. “I think you’re trying to tell me something.”

  “I don’t think I have to tell you. You’ve known since you were eighteen years old and began to postpone marriage plans.”

  “I’ve always had reasons.”

  “I know,” Matilda agreed. “No one ever marries if there’s a death, an accident, a tornado, college.” Matilda smiled—one of those caring, I-know-what-you-feel smiles that made Jane want to cry.

  Jane knew she might as well say it. They both knew it anyway. “You said a place doesn’t matter that much. I think the opposite can be true, too. No matter how much you love a place, it can lose its allure if you’re not with the one you love.”