Read Online Walking in Fire: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 1 by Cathryn Cade - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cathryn Cade
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Melia shrugged. “I just hope they’re safe.”
She looked cautiously at Leilani and saw a knowing look in the other woman’s gaze. Melia took a hasty sip of coffee and burned her tongue on the hot liquid.
“Hmm,” Leilani said. “Maybe I imagined the way you two look at each other.”
Melia took another gulp of coffee.
After a while, Leilani got down and went to the big refrigerator. “Well, might as well make breakfast,” she said. “I gotta do something but sit, yeah?”
Melia nodded, and Leilani came back to plunk a knife in front of her. She waved a hand at the huge basket of tropical fruit on the sideboard. “You wanna do the fruit?”
Melia chose a pineapple and brought it back to the island. Whack! The top fell off. Whack! The bottom fell.
Leilani turned and looked at her. A grin spread across her face. “Some big man betta watch out.”
Melia snickered. It felt good, a release valve for the tension compressed inside her. She was worried and scared and really, really angry at the whole situation. She wanted Malu to walk in safe and sound and say that he’d found Cherie, who’d simply gotten lost, or something. And that they had not been making hot hana ai in the woods all night.
Leilani began to crack eggs into a bowl. “The Ho’omalus are one of the oldest families on the island,” she said. “Descended from chieftains. Well respected here.”
“Ho’omalu?” Melia repeated, fascinated. “So that’s his last name?” She wasn’t sure why Leilani was volunteering information about Malu, but she was dying to hear it.
“Yup. David Ho’omalu.” Leilani looked over at Melia, that knowing little smile on her lips. “He’s an artist. He painted those pictures you like so much.”
Melia knew her mouth was hanging open, but for a moment, she could only stare at Leilani. “ Malu painted those?”
Leilani nodded. “Been drawing in his sketch books since he was a keiki. Went off to college, played football for the Rainbow Warriors. Got a degree and a job with one of da family businesses. Surprised everyone when he quit to paint. Everyone except his ohana —his family.”
“Football, wow, he probably could have gone to the NFL.” He was certainly big enough. And he’d been to college and apparently well brought up. She’d already noticed he turned his “island boy” speak on and off at will.
Leilani shook her head decisively. “No. Ho’omalus never leave the island for long. They travel, but they always live here. My family the same. Been Leluas on the Big Island as long as the Ho’omalus.”
Melia accepted this change of subject with a certain relief. She needed time to process all this information about Malu. David. His name was David.
“So who’s Daniel?” she asked.
“His brother,” Leilani said. “Wish he was here now. He’d find Malu right now. But he’s not, so…” She shrugged.
Malu had a brother. Melia wondered if he was as drop-dead gorgeous as Malu. Okay, drop dead—not the best expression she could have come up with.
“Does your family live here?” she asked to change the subject.
“Up on Mamaloa Highway.” Leilani chatted about her family, and Melia listened as they worked. But half of her mind was on Malu. He was the artist.
She paused, the knife in midair over the pineapple as she realized that the sketchbook she’d found must belong to him, as well.
And the sketch of the woman—no wonder she was familiar. She must be of one of them. But was it Cherie, or Jacquie…or her?
And what did it mean? That he admired the woman, or that he watched, waiting for a chance to do more than admire?
Chapter Six
Recipe for disaster—take one injured tourist, one missing Hawaiian, and cast blame .
Melia stayed in the kitchen with Leilani, drinking coffee and creating a huge fruit salad. It sat on the platter untouched until Leilani put a bowl and spoon in front of Melia.
“Betta eat something to balance all da coffee,” she said. “Or you
She looked cautiously at Leilani and saw a knowing look in the other woman’s gaze. Melia took a hasty sip of coffee and burned her tongue on the hot liquid.
“Hmm,” Leilani said. “Maybe I imagined the way you two look at each other.”
Melia took another gulp of coffee.
After a while, Leilani got down and went to the big refrigerator. “Well, might as well make breakfast,” she said. “I gotta do something but sit, yeah?”
Melia nodded, and Leilani came back to plunk a knife in front of her. She waved a hand at the huge basket of tropical fruit on the sideboard. “You wanna do the fruit?”
Melia chose a pineapple and brought it back to the island. Whack! The top fell off. Whack! The bottom fell.
Leilani turned and looked at her. A grin spread across her face. “Some big man betta watch out.”
Melia snickered. It felt good, a release valve for the tension compressed inside her. She was worried and scared and really, really angry at the whole situation. She wanted Malu to walk in safe and sound and say that he’d found Cherie, who’d simply gotten lost, or something. And that they had not been making hot hana ai in the woods all night.
Leilani began to crack eggs into a bowl. “The Ho’omalus are one of the oldest families on the island,” she said. “Descended from chieftains. Well respected here.”
“Ho’omalu?” Melia repeated, fascinated. “So that’s his last name?” She wasn’t sure why Leilani was volunteering information about Malu, but she was dying to hear it.
“Yup. David Ho’omalu.” Leilani looked over at Melia, that knowing little smile on her lips. “He’s an artist. He painted those pictures you like so much.”
Melia knew her mouth was hanging open, but for a moment, she could only stare at Leilani. “ Malu painted those?”
Leilani nodded. “Been drawing in his sketch books since he was a keiki. Went off to college, played football for the Rainbow Warriors. Got a degree and a job with one of da family businesses. Surprised everyone when he quit to paint. Everyone except his ohana —his family.”
“Football, wow, he probably could have gone to the NFL.” He was certainly big enough. And he’d been to college and apparently well brought up. She’d already noticed he turned his “island boy” speak on and off at will.
Leilani shook her head decisively. “No. Ho’omalus never leave the island for long. They travel, but they always live here. My family the same. Been Leluas on the Big Island as long as the Ho’omalus.”
Melia accepted this change of subject with a certain relief. She needed time to process all this information about Malu. David. His name was David.
“So who’s Daniel?” she asked.
“His brother,” Leilani said. “Wish he was here now. He’d find Malu right now. But he’s not, so…” She shrugged.
Malu had a brother. Melia wondered if he was as drop-dead gorgeous as Malu. Okay, drop dead—not the best expression she could have come up with.
“Does your family live here?” she asked to change the subject.
“Up on Mamaloa Highway.” Leilani chatted about her family, and Melia listened as they worked. But half of her mind was on Malu. He was the artist.
She paused, the knife in midair over the pineapple as she realized that the sketchbook she’d found must belong to him, as well.
And the sketch of the woman—no wonder she was familiar. She must be of one of them. But was it Cherie, or Jacquie…or her?
And what did it mean? That he admired the woman, or that he watched, waiting for a chance to do more than admire?
Chapter Six
Recipe for disaster—take one injured tourist, one missing Hawaiian, and cast blame .
Melia stayed in the kitchen with Leilani, drinking coffee and creating a huge fruit salad. It sat on the platter untouched until Leilani put a bowl and spoon in front of Melia.
“Betta eat something to balance all da coffee,” she said. “Or you
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