Journey of Hope. Debbie Kaufman
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The bishop was not dissuaded. “Of course not. She’ll need someone to travel with her on board ship for her recovery and the proprieties of ship life. I met the perfect candidate last night at a late supper hosted in my honor. She and her husband are returning to their coffee plantation outside of Harper. Then, once in the jungle, you’ll be surrounded by your caravan. Last night’s incident notwithstanding, most Liberian men are quite protective of missionary women, as those who have served alone have found in the past. I think you’ll see that the caravan itself is more than sufficient as a chaperone.”
Every obstacle Stewart could think to raise was steamrollered flat by the bishop’s growing enthusiasm. He continued unhampered, “Besides, Mr. Hastings, even I know that being guided into the area isn’t enough. Not if you want to come back safely. You need Miss Baldwin.”
If he wanted to come back safely? He’d survived the Germans. Miss Baldwin had barely survived Monrovia. How could the bishop even suggest...?
The bishop must have taken Stewart’s silent ruminations for acceptance. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to secure this companion for Miss Baldwin in the little time left before you two depart. Sir, if you will deposit half the funds with the Mission Board’s secretary, then you can make the rest of your arrangements directly with Miss Baldwin for the balance upon completion.”
For such a well-rounded man, the bishop was quick on his feet. Stewart stared at the now-empty doorway. What had just happened? He’d been waltzed right into another situation where a beautiful woman would be making arrangements for his life. He had a deadline; dragging a woman along through the jungle would only slow him down. No, if he was to fail, he’d rather it be on his own terms and not the result of a woman’s whims, as before, or her innate physical frailties.
“I’m sorry, Miss Baldwin, but despite what the bishop thinks, there is no way this arrangement will work. Nothing personal, but I simply wanted the name of a guide and felt sure you could steer me to one, since you must use one yourself. I’m in haste and can’t possibly consider taking the extra time that bringing a woman along would entail, no matter how valuable the bishop believes your contribution would be. If you could see fit to give me the name of someone willing to go there, I will send a letter of explanation to the bishop later today and be on my way.”
Her answer was delayed by the arrival of Momma Elliott with the promised bowl of broth. She placed it at the bedside and went to sit in a corner rocker. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just wait over here so the two of you can finish your conversation.”
Anna smiled at Momma Elliott, and then her voice, both gentle and authoritative, insisted, “Mr. Hastings, I’m afraid you do not understand the gravity of the situation, especially where the chief’s reaction to you being in his territory is concerned. The danger is greater than you realize.”
The sincerity of her tone carried through. She believed him to be in danger.
“I served in the trenches of the Great War. I feel confident I can handle the danger of jungle travel. The government has offered the territory’s mineral rights for sale. Certainly we wish to have good local relations, but ultimately the chief has no authority over these plans.” He softened his tone. “I do not wish to disappoint you, Miss Baldwin. I understand how much you need the money, so if you could just direct me to one of the guides you missionaries use, I’d be willing to pay you for the information.” He hated the distress shadowing those lovely brown eyes, but there was nothing else he could do for her.
Her pale cheeks flushed at the implication. Delicate hands punctuated her frustration as she spoke. “Yes, I need the money, but that’s not why I cannot let you go in there without me. Since the recent attempts of government troops to implement the infamous Hut Tax, Nana Mala views all outsiders with suspicion of working on the government’s behalf. He will not welcome you, even if you could find another guide. Which, by the way, you won’t.”
He got it. She wasn’t sharing her guides. “I appreciate the warning.” He turned to follow the bishop’s path out the door. Now what? He had no one else to interview. Should he board the ship and hope to find one farther down the coast? Every step toward the doorway felt like one step closer to failure, and failure, where his mother’s future was concerned, wasn’t an option.
Her soft voice stopped him. “Apparently my warning wasn’t strong enough. For your own sake...”
“Dear lady, I don’t wish my continued refusal of your services to humiliate you. I am sorry for your situation. I’m also well acquainted with desperation born of financial need. I would help you if I could. However, if you aren’t willing to share the names of your resources, I shall simply have to proceed without them. My deadline demands it. But I’m not one to hold a grudge, so I sincerely hope we can both conduct a civil relationship together once you reach the village after me.”
She expelled a deep breath. “Of course, Mr. Hastings. In fact, I’m quite certain civility will not be an issue between us.”
“Good.” He tipped his head and smiled at her agreement. “Then I’ll see you in the village when you arrive.” He nodded to Momma Elliott, who shook her head with ill-concealed amusement.
He didn’t clear the door frame before Anna’s words froze his limbs in place. “Probably not, Mr. Hastings. Should you arrive without me to intervene with the chief on your behalf, it’s more than likely that you will be killed on the spot.”
Chapter Two
Stewart leaned against the forward-deck rail and watched as Miss Baldwin’s companion, Mrs. Dowdy, helped her into the deck chair and tucked the blankets around her. Two days out to sea and her color was vastly improved. The multihued scarf around her head, protecting against the ship’s headwind, added appeal to that exotic face.
Not that he was interested. Just a little haunted by the first time he’d gazed into her eyes. Chalk that up to concern for her well-being after saving her. Rescuing her had engendered a protective feeling. He’d shake it off.
Maybe her personal watchdog would leave Anna’s side as she’d done yesterday and give them a chance to talk. After hearing Anna out about the chief’s murderous proclivities, and realizing exactly why he needed her specifically, preparations to make the next morning’s sailing had been his entire focus. He hadn’t counted on Anna’s chaperone circumventing most of his attempts at conversation since they’d boarded. He never should have told Mrs. Dowdy that he wasn’t a churchgoing man when she’d asked, but lying was his father’s style, not his. The price of his honesty included glacial stares and less-than-subtle hints that Mrs. Dowdy found him unworthy to associate with Anna.
Fortunately, Mrs. Dowdy wouldn’t be with them in the jungle. For now he’d have to watch for his moment. A lot of details needed to be worked out, and he had questions about the area and the people. He’d known there were risks. The Pahn tribe had a past reputation as cannibals, but he’d expected that government backing would protect him, or even that the stories had been exaggerated. Obviously there was a lot American Mining hadn’t known when they’d given him this assignment. He couldn’t afford any more surprises.
And there was his opening. Ten minutes after seeing her charge settled, she wandered off to one of the covered decks to play a couple rubbers of bridge. Finally his only firsthand source of information was alone, looking bright-eyed and a little bored.
He headed for the empty chair beside her. Besides information gathering, he hoped to find a way to make his expectations clear. He needed her to facilitate his explorations with the tribes along the way and vouch for him with the Pahn chief. But she must leave the decision making to him, her employer. That much had to be clear first. The last time he’d experienced confusion in the chain of command, men had died in the trenches beside him.
Stewart swerved around a group of passengers starting up a jump-rope game and crossed over to the starboard seating area. Anna glanced up at his approach and then cut her eyes back to the book in her lap. A hint she didn’t feel like socializing? Or just shyness? The irony of hiring a woman he knew so