A Gentle Fragrance Read online

  “The time has come that you should marry, Sarah. I do not understand your father in this matter of choice he’s given you.” Aunt Lefu raised her hands in irritation and shook her head of thick black hair. “I was told whom I would marry.”

  “But you were born to taupo. As a chief’s daughter, more was expected of you.”

  Lefu’s mouth thinned. “Your father’s way will see you old and unmarried. Are there no boys in the village to interest you?”

  Sarah wove the fronds. She didn’t want a boy. She wanted a man. A man such as Bill.

  Heat seared her cool cheeks, and Lefu’s eyes narrowed.

  “So, you have interest in a bridegroom! Is it Nua? He stares at you often with moon eyes.”

  Sarah ignored that. She didn’t think much of Ono’s young son, who exhibited as much intelligence as a land crab and proved to be about as agile.

  Lefu grunted. “Very well. It is time we speak of what will be required of you.”

  Sarah briefly looked up, uncertain of what was coming.

  “Your husband you must serve, and you must be submissive to him. But never let him see what lies within your heart. That shows weakness, Sarah. You must guard your emotions well, for that is your strength. I have taught you this since you were young, but still you forget. Do not be like the weak or simpering—like the silly women of this village, Meta and others. You are the granddaughter of a chieftain. Because of this, do not go with a suitor if he asks you on a nighttime tryst. You must show no eagerness, another failing you have. And it is not wise to walk around the island without a chaperone.”

  Sarah couldn’t imagine always being guarded as many of the young, unmarried daughters of higher rank were. “I’m careful. I talk to no one.”

  “And what of this man Bill?”

  Sarah’s eyes snapped up from her task.

  “You look at me in surprise. Did you think I would not learn of him and your walks over the island? Meta does not know how to control her tongue.”

  Sarah swallowed hard. “My father approves.”

  “Your father does not understand the ways of our people. If the village men thought you were violated, there might be no offers of marriage. It is bad enough you are a missionary’s daughter. Do not add to those sins.”

  Uneasy, Sarah’s glance went to the sun, lowering beyond the mountain. “It is late. I need to prepare the fish.” At least, she hoped Bill and her father had caught fish. A second night of bananas, yams, and taro didn’t appeal.

  “Guard my words well, Sarah.”

  Her aunt’s parting admonition followed Sarah the entire walk home. Bill approached her from the path to the beach, his face animated, so unlike the distance he’d shown since their return from the waterfall. Often these days she would catch him staring at her, but rarely did he speak.

  “I caught a fish!” Bill announced. “With a spear!”

  “That is good.” Remembering her aunt’s words, she tempered her happy smile at seeing him until her face was a mask of indifference. “I will go and prepare it. And you, Father?” She turned to watch as he came up behind Bill.

  “Two small ones. His catch should adequately feed all of us. How is Lefu?”

  “She is well.” She hesitated. “She thinks it is time I seek a husband. Perhaps she is right.” Without looking at Bill, Sarah walked to the hut to start a fire for the fish.

  ❧

  Unable to relax, Bill took the path to the beach after his nightly talk with Josiah. His mind went to the meeting he’d had yesterday when several men had returned from their day of fishing, pulling their canoe up to the beach, and Josiah had made introductions.

  A few of those men had been loudly teasing a skinny boy named Nua of his love for a young woman and a poem he’d written but never given her. Nua had cast quick glances to Josiah as he approached with Bill, as if nervous the older man should hear, and the others quieted upon seeing the missionary.

  Surely such talk had not been a cause for shame. . .unless the reason for their sudden silence had to do with Sarah. Had she been the woman discussed?

  She thinks it is time I seek a husband. Perhaps she is right.

  Sarah’s earlier parting words left an indelible imprint on Bill’s brain. So what if Sarah married one of the villagers? That certainly would solve his problem. If she gained interest in one of the island men, then Bill could depart to America in peace, freed from any guilt and matrimonial ties.

  A woman’s lilting laugh cornered his mind. Curious, he walked along the path to the beach, staying hidden beyond a fringe of palms.

  Against the flame of sky that stretched over the waters, Sarah played with a boy and girl who’d wandered far from the village. They chased Sarah, all of them giggling, through the surf. Sarah visibly slowed her pace so they could catch her, and both children threw their arms around her waist, all three of them falling into the water, laughing harder. Pensive, Bill watched the gaiety a while longer before he turned and headed back up the path and into the hut.

  Josiah sat at his desk and looked up from the letter he was writing.

  “All right,” Bill said without preamble. “I’ll marry Sarah.”

  ❧

  Sarah stood and listened to the waterfall whisper to her one last time.

  When Bill had approached her two nights ago and asked to speak to her alone, she wasn’t prepared for the shock when he said her father wanted him to take her back with him to America on a ship that had recently arrived. But when Bill further explained that it would be to Sarah’s benefit if she married him first, an arrangement to which her father also agreed, she’d only stared, speechless.

  A loveless proposal for a marriage. An arrangement of convenience.

  Her father later affirmed Bill’s words, and they’d talked long into the night while Bill slept. She’d been curious about the world beyond her little island, and Father wanted her to learn of the customs and the land from which he came, though he’d assured her the decision to marry Bill would be hers alone. One day soon, according to Aunt Lefu, she must wed, and no villager attracted her as a potential bridegroom. As such, she’d thought she would spend her life serving her father, taking care of him, and that idea had been satisfactory.

  Until Bill had washed up on shore.

  “Sarah?”

  She turned, startled to hear his voice. He appeared through the bushes.

  “I thought I’d find you here. It’s time. The ship leaves in an hour.”

  Nodding mutely, she kept her expression blank. She wouldn’t let him know how terrified she was at this moment.

  “Wait,” he said before she could precede him onto the path.

  She turned to look and felt the stem of a hibiscus slide into her hair above her ear.

  “That’s better. You should always wear flowers. They look good on you.” His voice was as taut as his smile.

  The next hour went by in a haze for Sarah. Standing beside Bill as her father read from the book he used for Christian ceremonies of this nature. . .her soft answers to his questions to love, honor, and obey mirroring the gravity of Bill’s responses. . .the stiff kiss Bill imparted to her lips once her father pronounced them man and wife. . .the villagers’ hugs and well wishes for a safe journey.

  Only Aunt Lefu held herself aloof, distant from the others, though her parting hug to Sarah was warm. “I do not understand your choice, Sarah, or your wish to leave us. But I will always carry you in my heart. Remember all I have taught you.”

  “I will.”

  Her father hugged her long and hard, and she couldn’t stem the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

  “I shall miss you; I cannot imagine what life will be like without you.” Sarah pulled back and memorized the lines of his dear, craggy face.

  “I knew this day must come, long before you did.” His own eyes were watery. “It’s as it should be. Bill’s a good man; he’ll make you a fine husband.” He put into her hands the cross on which he’d been whittling for weeks. Onto the woode
n stick as long as her forearm and half its thickness, he’d carved beautiful wavy marks and pictures.

  “It’s a piece of our life. Each symbol represents a monumental event that took place, and each groove represents the love and prayers I continually have for you. The shape is in a cross to remind you that our Savior has been and always will be in control of your life and holds us together in spirit. Guard it well, Sarah.”

  Moved beyond words, she nodded, kissed his cheek, then turned to walk with her new husband toward the small ship that would carry her away to an indistinct world. Behind, the villagers lifted their voices in a song of farewell. Her hold on the cross tightened. Bleak uncertainty threatened her resolve not to cry.

  Bill touched her arm. “It’ll be all right.”

  She looked at him, then back at the ship, and continued her course.

  Six

  Days later, Bill gripped the ship’s rail. How much longer he could keep up this distance, he didn’t know. Just to be with Sarah in close quarters, to smell her sweet fragrance, to look into her fathomless eyes, to hear the melody of her words was almost more than he could bear. And those times she inadvertently brushed against him sent fire surging through his veins. Purposely he stayed away, waiting until the early morning hours when he was physically exhausted and she was sound asleep before allowing himself to lie down, his back to her.

  He’d half convinced himself that he married Sarah to repay the man who’d saved his life and in gratitude to Sarah for all she’d done—to help her find a good life in America as her father wished. Honorable intentions. All lies.

  Now that he was being honest with himself, Bill knew his true reason for marrying Sarah was entirely selfish. He didn’t want Sarah to come to him in submission; he wanted her to come to him in love. Nothing else would do.

  He loved her and wanted her for his wife. She was his wife. And somehow, he would make her love a blackguard like himself. She’d only married him in compliance with her father’s wishes. Bill had seen her daughterly obedience in every regard, and if she did have feelings for him, why then did she never show it? Her expression was always so placid. She’d rarely smiled since they married. The only time he’d seen Sarah display any emotion, besides her frolicking with the animals and children, was when she’d parted with her father. Then the tears had fallen in earnest, and he’d seen the emptiness that hollowed her eyes.

  Bill felt like a criminal, taking Sarah away from all she loved, even if it was at the request of her father. Somehow, he would get through these days at sea. Once they were in New York at his brother’s home, the situation was bound to be easier than it was with them both being so confined.

  At least the captain’s orders made Bill’s life a little easier.

  ❧

  Her father’s stories of what to expect couldn’t prepare Sarah for life aboard a ship, especially one filled with sailors who spent their lives at sea. The shipping vessel on which they journeyed wasn’t supplied with suitable quarters for a woman. However, when a few men showed immediate interest in Sarah within an hour after they’d boarded and set sail, and it almost led to a fistfight with Bill and the rowdy sailors, the captain informed them both that she and Bill would be given his quarters for the duration of the voyage. The captain asked Sarah to stay within the cabin to avoid further conflicts. She knew he wasn’t pleased to have her aboard, being the superstitious sort who didn’t cater to a woman being on his ship, but at both Bill’s and her father’s persuasion, he had allowed her passage.

  The first few days, she’d been seasick and hadn’t minded staying inside, but after a week, she recovered enough that if she didn’t leave the cabin, she would go mad. Her father at some point had secreted his small Bible, filled with his handwritten notes, into the canvas bag containing all her worldly possessions from the island. And that thoughtful gift helped to fill many empty hours.

  Bill, for the most part, stayed absent. In fact, he hadn’t touched her since they’d boarded ship, and that confused her greatly. She knew little of what went on in a marriage; her aunt had left her ignorant in that regard. Perhaps he’d made no move toward her because he regretted taking her as his wife.

  The torturing thought plagued Sarah’s heart.

  Nighttime had come, and the lure of fresh air, the need to leave such confining quarters, brought her out of the cabin. This late, it surely couldn’t hurt to seize several minutes alone on deck.

  She climbed the narrow stairs, alert to every sound and grateful for no sign of humanity. The salty air breezed across her face, and she inhaled a deep, cleansing breath before walking farther. To feel the coolness against her skin was sheer bliss after the imprisonment of the cabin. The sound of men’s faint voices rolled from the front of the ship. She caught sight of Bill standing alone at the side.

  Grabbing the rail, he looked out over the black water, where a shimmer of moonlight formed an obscure path. He stood as if a weight burdened his soul. All at once he straightened, turned.

  “Sarah? What are you doing up here?”

  Closing the distance, she noted he didn’t seem pleased to see her. “No one is nearby. Why should I not be allowed to partake of fresh air as everyone else on board does? As you do?”

  Her words made him flinch. “Those were the captain’s orders, not mine.”

  Resigned, she gave a nod. “I will return.”

  “Wait.” He blew out a breath. “A few more minutes won’t hurt. And it is quiet.”

  She watched him, not understanding his odd behavior. One minute he seemed angry with her; the next, he coveted her company. All week, it had been like this.

  He solemnly studied her face. His gaze went to her hair, and he gathered a thick strand of it. “Pretty Sarah. . .how it shines in the moonlight,” he whispered. “Like rich black satin.”

  Stunned, Sarah didn’t move, didn’t speak. Bill continued to slowly rub the lock of hair between his fingers, staring at it as if he’d never seen it before, letting it fall bit by bit to her shoulder. When he returned his gaze to hers, she inhaled an inaudible, expectant breath at the intense look in his eyes, thinking he might kiss her.

  Instead, he took in a deep lungful of air and let it out slowly through his mouth. “You should return to the cabin—before the captain sees us, and we’re both in trouble.”

  “Will you come also?”

  His glance toward her came quick, and she read surprise there before he averted his gaze to some point mid-deck.

  “I’ll be along later, long after you’re asleep. Don’t wait up.” He turned his attention to the sea.

  Now that he couldn’t see her, Sarah allowed her mask of detachment to fall away at his rejection. Hurt drew her brows together, and the sting of tears came as she swiftly retraced her steps.

  ❧

  The crash of thunder awoke Sarah. Heart beating fast, she jumped to a sitting position, clutching the blanket. Another deafening crash made her whimper and recoil, hitting against Bill, who lay beside her. On the island, she’d hated the rainy season with its never-ending storms, but on a rocking ship, the sound seemed magnified. She felt vulnerable, alone, abandoned. Would they all die?

  “Sarah?” Bill asked groggily. She felt him sit up. “What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t answer, couldn’t stop trembling.

  “Sarah?” His voice was curious, soft. “Is it the storm?”

  She gave an abrupt nod, squeezing her eyes shut when a white flash lit the entire cabin and thunder seemed to crack against the side of the ship.

  His arms closed around her, drawing her close. “Shhh, it’s all right. This isn’t so bad. I’ve seen worse. There’s no reason to fear, pretty Sarah. The ship appears to be a seaworthy vessel.”

  He smoothed his hand over her hair, kissed her temple, held her more tightly. His strength, his warmth helped to soothe her. She relaxed, resting her head against his shoulder. He stiffened.

  “Don’t let me go,” she whispered, alarmed he might draw away.

&nbs
p; And he didn’t. All through the violent storm, he held her close to his heart. Even after the thunder abated, his arms remained around her. Now that the danger had passed, her senses became fully attuned to the man who held her. Her husband, and her mind wrapped around a night on the island. . .and a kiss.

  Her heartbeat quickened, matching his.

  “Sarah. . . ?”

  His voice was hoarse, full of an emotion she couldn’t discern, but one that had her lifting her face to his in entreaty. A flash of delayed lightning revealed his searching expression, but a flame kindled in his eyes, taking Sarah’s breath away.

  Their kiss was both tender and consuming. A give and take that shook Sarah to her core, while reassuring her heart that at last all would be well between them.

  Seven

  New York was more than Sarah could have imagined and nothing close to what she had dreamed. Accustomed to life on her quiet island with only bird cries and the ocean’s surf to sing to her, she was unprepared for the raucous dissonance of sound that was Manhattan.

  Noisy automobiles chugged and roared and popped. Hordes of people walked the sidewalks, a far greater number than were in her village, and they spoke and shouted and laughed. Everywhere there was motion; everywhere confusion.

  Unconsciously, she drew closer to Bill, clutching his sleeve, then scolded herself for doing so and released it. After that wondrous night they’d shared in one another’s arms, Sarah had awoken to find Bill gone. Memory of her childish fear of the storm then broke through the cloud of sweet contentment and twined itself around her mind. She now regretted that she’d let him observe such weakness in her. Aunt Lefu would have been displeased. Sarah assumed that at some point later in the night, Bill had recalled her shortcomings, her panicked tears, her clutching tightly to him like a child, and had been disappointed in her weakness. No other explanation presented itself as to why he would leave her before daybreak and again put emotional distance between them—as he had put distance between them throughout the following weeks, though he’d been polite, even charming. She could not fault him for that. Yet after the intimacy they’d shared, he now seemed as if he were attempting to be a stranger.