Blooming in the Wild Page 0,17
to rest. Side by side in death.”
It was quiet for a moment, only the mellow notes of slack key guitar lingering in the quiet dusk. Bella’s sympathies had always been more with the spurned suitor than with Na’alele, who seemed a bit silly. Why fool around with a stranger when she had a strong Hawaiian warrior ready to marry her? Unless maybe Pokoa was a macho jerk, and poor Na’alele had no way out of their betrothal.
Tanah made a face. “So Pele burned the girl to death, just for choosing the wrong man? Pretty harsh.”
Frank shrugged. “If she’d lived, she might’ve been put to death for breaking kapu. Doesn’t pay for humans to mess with da gods, yeah?”
“That’s true in mythology through the ages,” Joel mused, gazing out at the silver sea. “The ancient Greeks, the Romans—even the first story recorded, Beowulf, told of trials sent by vengeful gods.”
Evidently, the action hero did some reading when he wasn’t smiling for the camera. Bella wondered if he’d gone to college. Did they give degrees in hanging off cliffs? Of course he might have a sensible degree in some unrelated field. She’d gotten a business degree herself, although she could’ve minored in botany with all the electives she’d squeezed into her schedule.
“Your Pele is a stern goddess,” Camille put in. “Sending her lava down through villages and homes, even today. Scarcely giving people time to escape.”
“Pele kia’i o kâna po’,” Bella shot back and then closed her mouth, astonished not only by the rush of defensive anger fueling her words but that they had emerged in Hawaiian.
“’Ae, yeah,” Frank agreed calmly. “Pele looks after her own.” But Camille was looking at Bella. “You speak Hawaiian?”
“A little.”
“She should, she’s half Hawaiian,” Frank said proudly. “A Ho’omalu, yeah?”
“Ho’omalu,” Camille repeated. “Really? Hmm, I know I’ve heard that name.”
“Big Hawaiian ohana,” Frank said. “Nawea Bay, back toward Kona, is theirs.”
“And you’re a member of that family. How lovely.” Camille smiled at Bella and swung her foot idly, gazing into the fire.
The others were quiet for a moment. Bella took another drink of hot coffee and then lowered her cup, glancing around at the circle of fire-lit faces. Awareness prickled under her skin like the brush of a stinging vine. Someone in this group was projecting anger and malice—at her. Not overtly, but it was there, just the same. She could feel it.
But who? Her gaze skipped over Frank, not only an ex-cop, but a longtime friend and employee of the Ho’omalus. The two models, the makeup artist—no, that was just ridiculous. And Camille was smiling as she murmured something to her assistant, his head bent close to hers.
As Bella watched, he nodded and then looked up at Bella across the fire. His face was expressionless, his eyes black in the firelight. She blinked and looked back into her cup, her skin prickling again.
The Asian-American didn’t like her; that seemed clear. But why not? Should she speak with Camille? And tell the woman what? That Bella was sure Li disliked her? That was juvenile. He didn’t have to like her, just do his job. And it was her job to make sure all went well here.
“That was a great dinner,” Joel said. “My compliments to your sister, Frank.”
Bella looked at Joel, his face limned in firelight, highlighting the strong angle of his jaw and the creases in his face when he smiled. He looked so natural here, in his milieu.
She blinked, realizing she’d forgotten to include him in her inventory of people who might be angry with her. He was an obvious choice. He’d made his derision clear on the boat. She narrowed her eyes at him. She’d fed him fruit from her forest, so he’d better not toy with her.
Suddenly, she really wanted to talk to Melia or Claire. Her best friends would understand some of her turmoil, both being recent transplants to the island. And if they didn’t understand, they would sympathize. With a murmured apology, she slipped away again, walking down beside the shore.
Melia didn’t answer her phone, and Bella assumed her friend was asleep. Two months pregnant, the new bride napped every afternoon and still went to bed early. Of course her early bedtime might also have something to do with her husband, the handsome, virile David Ho’omalu.
She tried Claire next, but she wasn’t answering either. Bella scowled at her phone and then shoved it in her pocket. She knew Claire was at Nawea with Daniel Ho’omalu, her husband-to-be. Another intensely virile