on her left arm is to be removed next week."
The conversation became focused on Emily's niece—her schoolwork and health in general. By the end of the meal, Emily seemed more relaxed. Julie had felt the tension that had existed at the start of dinner.
The strange part was that the tension had seemed to transfer itself to her. She was restless all evening. She tried to watch a documentary on television, but it didn't hold her interest. She knew it would be hopeless trying to concentrate on a book as Emily was doing. She wandered into Debbie's room, but she was on the telephone talking to her boyfriend.
Finally Julie went to her own room. She wrote a letter to her parents and answered the one from Mrs. Kelly, who loved the muu-muu. For a long time she sat in one of the wicker chairs on her balcony. At half past eleven she got ready for bed even though she wasn't sleepy.
When she switched off the light and climbed into bed, the luminous dial of the radio clock kept her company. Unwillingly she watched the hours tick away. It was after two o'clock when she heard the sports car quietly drive up. She rolled onto her side and promptly fell asleep.
Chapter Five
TIME HAD GONE BY SO swiftly. It seemed impossible to Julie that she had been in Hawaii for more than a month. Still, it was another weekend again—Saturday. She leaned against the balcony railing, enjoying her view of the garden. It was a riot of color—hibiscus, bougainvillea, oleanders, poinciana.
The sun was well up in the morning sky and the air was warm. Her plans for the day were only half formed—a swim in the pool, for which she was already wearing her orange bikini and beach jacket, breakfast, and a trip to the Kuhuku Sugar Mill. Julie lifted her gaze to the hills where thick stands of pine trees would randomly give way to open meadows.
As her gaze ran over the climbing hills, it was stopped by the ominous billowing of smoke. She stared for a long, heart-stopping minute. It seemed to be coming from just over the next rise. Julie raced into her bedroom, out the door and down the stairs. As she rounded the corner into the living room where the telephone was, she collided with a rock-solid object. She would have careened off it like a billiard ball, but her upper arms were clamped in a pair of steel vices.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Ruel demanded.
The collision had knocked the breath out of her. It was a couple of seconds before she could manage to say, "Fire! There's a . . . fire!"
She became conscious of the well-muscled body inches from hers, aggressively male and sexually disturbing. He smelled clean and fresh with an individual scent that was faintly musky. His mouth was firm, chiseled into his features, presently curved at the corners.
The amused look was wiped from his mouth as his gaze narrowed. "Where?" His fingers dug into her soft flesh, tightening their grip.
"Just over the next hill." Julie gulped in a breath. "I saw the smoke from the balcony."
He hesitated, as if not believing her. "Show me."
"There isn't time," she protested. "We've got to call the fire department."
"You show me where it is first," Ruel insisted.
He kept a firm hold of one of her arms as he propelled her toward the doors of the lower lanai. Julie resisted briefly, looking frantically at the telephone just out of reach, before submitting to his order for the sake of speed. Outside the smoke was plainly visible beyond the fronds of the palm trees.
"Do you see it?" she pointed.
"Yes it's coming from our cane field," Ruel identified the fire's location.
Julie turned back toward the house. "We'd better call the fire department right away," she said decisively.
Instead of letting her go, Ruel continued his restraint of her arm, and her exasperated look caught the amused slant of his mouth.
"I said it was the cane field," he repeated.
"I know what you said," she began.
"It's being deliberately burned off." He went further in his explanation.
The conversation became focused on Emily's niece—her schoolwork and health in general. By the end of the meal, Emily seemed more relaxed. Julie had felt the tension that had existed at the start of dinner.
The strange part was that the tension had seemed to transfer itself to her. She was restless all evening. She tried to watch a documentary on television, but it didn't hold her interest. She knew it would be hopeless trying to concentrate on a book as Emily was doing. She wandered into Debbie's room, but she was on the telephone talking to her boyfriend.
Finally Julie went to her own room. She wrote a letter to her parents and answered the one from Mrs. Kelly, who loved the muu-muu. For a long time she sat in one of the wicker chairs on her balcony. At half past eleven she got ready for bed even though she wasn't sleepy.
When she switched off the light and climbed into bed, the luminous dial of the radio clock kept her company. Unwillingly she watched the hours tick away. It was after two o'clock when she heard the sports car quietly drive up. She rolled onto her side and promptly fell asleep.
Chapter Five
TIME HAD GONE BY SO swiftly. It seemed impossible to Julie that she had been in Hawaii for more than a month. Still, it was another weekend again—Saturday. She leaned against the balcony railing, enjoying her view of the garden. It was a riot of color—hibiscus, bougainvillea, oleanders, poinciana.
The sun was well up in the morning sky and the air was warm. Her plans for the day were only half formed—a swim in the pool, for which she was already wearing her orange bikini and beach jacket, breakfast, and a trip to the Kuhuku Sugar Mill. Julie lifted her gaze to the hills where thick stands of pine trees would randomly give way to open meadows.
As her gaze ran over the climbing hills, it was stopped by the ominous billowing of smoke. She stared for a long, heart-stopping minute. It seemed to be coming from just over the next rise. Julie raced into her bedroom, out the door and down the stairs. As she rounded the corner into the living room where the telephone was, she collided with a rock-solid object. She would have careened off it like a billiard ball, but her upper arms were clamped in a pair of steel vices.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Ruel demanded.
The collision had knocked the breath out of her. It was a couple of seconds before she could manage to say, "Fire! There's a . . . fire!"
She became conscious of the well-muscled body inches from hers, aggressively male and sexually disturbing. He smelled clean and fresh with an individual scent that was faintly musky. His mouth was firm, chiseled into his features, presently curved at the corners.
The amused look was wiped from his mouth as his gaze narrowed. "Where?" His fingers dug into her soft flesh, tightening their grip.
"Just over the next hill." Julie gulped in a breath. "I saw the smoke from the balcony."
He hesitated, as if not believing her. "Show me."
"There isn't time," she protested. "We've got to call the fire department."
"You show me where it is first," Ruel insisted.
He kept a firm hold of one of her arms as he propelled her toward the doors of the lower lanai. Julie resisted briefly, looking frantically at the telephone just out of reach, before submitting to his order for the sake of speed. Outside the smoke was plainly visible beyond the fronds of the palm trees.
"Do you see it?" she pointed.
"Yes it's coming from our cane field," Ruel identified the fire's location.
Julie turned back toward the house. "We'd better call the fire department right away," she said decisively.
Instead of letting her go, Ruel continued his restraint of her arm, and her exasperated look caught the amused slant of his mouth.
"I said it was the cane field," he repeated.
"I know what you said," she began.
"It's being deliberately burned off." He went further in his explanation.
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