Read Online Treasure of the Golden Cheetah by Suzanne Arruda - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Arruda
Ads: Link
had felt a gnawing worry eating at him. Something about the death felt wrong. He just couldn’t put his finger on what.
Out of fuel for his plane, Sam reviled the ongoing fuel shortage that annoyed the Kenya colony. Unable to sort out his concerns aloft, he did the next best thing and lost himself in something mechanical. An engineer trained at Purdue University, Sam loved machines. He loved the way their parts meshed together and, by their interplay, created a whole greater than expected. He appreciated how they responded predictably to his care. Why weren’t women like that? How could they be so much more complicated? His heart answered him.
Because, you dolt, they aren’t machines. They’re humans. Delightfully soft, unpredictable humans with minds of their own.
And no one, he reminded himself, had a more determined and intricate mind than Jade.
She’s right. You’ll have to learn to trust her. Unfortunately, trust wasn’t the only issue.
Neville joined Sam at midmorning and together they worked on their invention. The improved coffee washer would be more efficient even at high volumes. Once it was finished, they’d patent it. Neville, who had a surprisingly good head for business despite his many half-baked ideas, such as herding crocodiles for leather, had developed a plan to start up a service of washing coffee raised by other farmers. Madeline, who had an even better head for business, had helped them determine the fees.
Maddy brought them lunch and lemonade at two. Little Cyril tagged along and they enjoyed an impromptu picnic. No one talked about the two events uppermost in their minds: Jade’s safari and Wheeler’s murder.
At sunset, Madeline reminded them of the Dunburys’ invitation to dine with them. The men took turns washing the grease off themselves in the tin tub, put on clean clothes, packed Cyril into the old car, and drove into Parklands, just north of Nairobi.
Lord Dunbury’s stone house made a splendid showing during the day, with its wide veranda, horse stables, and graceful gardens. Beverly had brought roses from England to replenish the ones that had suffered from neglect while they were away, and trained bougainvillea and other vines up wooden trellises.
By evening, most of the estate’s delights were hidden or only hinted at by a perfumed scent or a distant whinny. Neville carried his sleeping son into the nursery to doze next to baby Alice Merrywether, then joined the others in the dining room.
“I hope you don’t mind, Sam, but I don’t have any coffee made,” said Beverly. “Without Jade to insist on it, it slipped my mind. Such a curious American custom, drinking it with a meal instead of after.”
Sam shrugged. He found most British customs, such as afternoon tea, odd. At home, you went to the well and took a long draw of water or you guzzled cold lemonade, chilled with ice saved from a previous winter. But you didn’t take half an hour to do it. He didn’t want to talk about Jade’s absence either.
“Don’t give it a second thought, Beverly,” he said, and changed the subject. “I suppose the papers have reported on Wheeler’s murder?”
“Yes,” said Avery. “A rather long article in The Leader . Mostly writing on the horror of the incident and how the police must do something about the native population lest we all be slain in our beds. That sort of rot.”
“There was a second article on the visiting motion picture company,” added Beverly. “It included a photograph of the principle actors, Miss Malta, Mr. Hall, and Miss Porter. The story related the topic of their picture and gave some of the details as to the plot.”
“What is it about?” asked Sam.
“Very exciting,” said Madeline. “It’s both an adventure and a love story that takes place in two different times. It’s based on a very ancient legend about Menelik the First, the son of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. He ruled Abyssinia, but it seems he went on a campaign
Out of fuel for his plane, Sam reviled the ongoing fuel shortage that annoyed the Kenya colony. Unable to sort out his concerns aloft, he did the next best thing and lost himself in something mechanical. An engineer trained at Purdue University, Sam loved machines. He loved the way their parts meshed together and, by their interplay, created a whole greater than expected. He appreciated how they responded predictably to his care. Why weren’t women like that? How could they be so much more complicated? His heart answered him.
Because, you dolt, they aren’t machines. They’re humans. Delightfully soft, unpredictable humans with minds of their own.
And no one, he reminded himself, had a more determined and intricate mind than Jade.
She’s right. You’ll have to learn to trust her. Unfortunately, trust wasn’t the only issue.
Neville joined Sam at midmorning and together they worked on their invention. The improved coffee washer would be more efficient even at high volumes. Once it was finished, they’d patent it. Neville, who had a surprisingly good head for business despite his many half-baked ideas, such as herding crocodiles for leather, had developed a plan to start up a service of washing coffee raised by other farmers. Madeline, who had an even better head for business, had helped them determine the fees.
Maddy brought them lunch and lemonade at two. Little Cyril tagged along and they enjoyed an impromptu picnic. No one talked about the two events uppermost in their minds: Jade’s safari and Wheeler’s murder.
At sunset, Madeline reminded them of the Dunburys’ invitation to dine with them. The men took turns washing the grease off themselves in the tin tub, put on clean clothes, packed Cyril into the old car, and drove into Parklands, just north of Nairobi.
Lord Dunbury’s stone house made a splendid showing during the day, with its wide veranda, horse stables, and graceful gardens. Beverly had brought roses from England to replenish the ones that had suffered from neglect while they were away, and trained bougainvillea and other vines up wooden trellises.
By evening, most of the estate’s delights were hidden or only hinted at by a perfumed scent or a distant whinny. Neville carried his sleeping son into the nursery to doze next to baby Alice Merrywether, then joined the others in the dining room.
“I hope you don’t mind, Sam, but I don’t have any coffee made,” said Beverly. “Without Jade to insist on it, it slipped my mind. Such a curious American custom, drinking it with a meal instead of after.”
Sam shrugged. He found most British customs, such as afternoon tea, odd. At home, you went to the well and took a long draw of water or you guzzled cold lemonade, chilled with ice saved from a previous winter. But you didn’t take half an hour to do it. He didn’t want to talk about Jade’s absence either.
“Don’t give it a second thought, Beverly,” he said, and changed the subject. “I suppose the papers have reported on Wheeler’s murder?”
“Yes,” said Avery. “A rather long article in The Leader . Mostly writing on the horror of the incident and how the police must do something about the native population lest we all be slain in our beds. That sort of rot.”
“There was a second article on the visiting motion picture company,” added Beverly. “It included a photograph of the principle actors, Miss Malta, Mr. Hall, and Miss Porter. The story related the topic of their picture and gave some of the details as to the plot.”
“What is it about?” asked Sam.
“Very exciting,” said Madeline. “It’s both an adventure and a love story that takes place in two different times. It’s based on a very ancient legend about Menelik the First, the son of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. He ruled Abyssinia, but it seems he went on a campaign
Similar Books
