My plane would leave soon. My bags were packed and stored in the jeep.
Belle and I stood on the lanai outside her office, looking out over the valley. Heavy clouds banked in the north, but a rainbow glistened in the heavy mist of the falls, vivid swaths of orange and gold and rose. The falls thundered down the face of the canyon, their beauty impervious to sorrow.
Purplish shadows accented the deep blue of Belle’s eyes. Her skin was chalk-white. She looked older, but there was a fine courage in her gaze, a commitment to life.
We looked at each other across a gulf of pain and loss. I doubted we should ever meet again.
“I’m sorry,” I said simply. I had not intended to bring her even greater sorrow.
She gave a quick shake of her head. “You had to come.”
Belle was right. I’d had no choice. I had discovered the truth of Richard’s death. Now was the time to discover the truth of his life. And mine.
“Belle—”
The heart hears far more than words say. Or perhaps my voice said it all.
Belle’s pale face was grave and thoughtful. “I’ll be leaving soon, too. I believe I’ll go to London for a while. Keith is going back to Texas. I’ll be getting a divorce.” Her tone brooked no discussion. This was now and would forever be a closed chapter. She would never speak about the reason this marriage had failed or what Keith’s promiscuity had cost her. Or the terrible price she’d paid because of Gretchen’s anger.
Then Belle’s eyes met mine directly, with no pretense. “I’ve never been unfaithful in marriage, Henrie O.”
Those words were meant for me. I knew that.
She reached out, gently clasped my hand. “We should have been friends, Henrie O. Because we both cared so much for Richard. He was the best friend I ever had.” She sighed and looked out into the valley. “I should not have taken advantage of that friendship.”
I scarcely breathed. Why had Richard always hurried to her side, whenever Belle called?
She dropped my hand, smoothed back her hair, looked at me steadily. “I saved Richard’s life in Vietnam. When our patrol was attacked and we escaped, I grabbed a dead soldier’s rifle. Richard and I found an abandoned rubber plantation. We hid there. The next day, when Richard was drawing water from a well, a sniper shot at him. I heard the shot. I took the rifle and wormed my way to the clearing. I killed the sniper. I made Richard promise he would never tell anyone. He kept his promise.”
I looked at her with a rush of affection. I understood her request. I’d read her book. This was not a woman who sought attention. She wanted to do her job and leave it at that. If word had got out that she’d saved Richard, there would have been stories, interviews, admiration. Belle didn’t want that kind of admiration.
I knew then why Richard had valued her friendship, how much it had meant to him. I knew that he must have wanted to tell me why he felt so in her debt. But being Richard, a promise made was a promise kept.
“I didn’t expect him to repay me.” Belle looked at me for understanding. “But I’m afraid he felt in my debt. Whenever I asked him for help, he came.”
So now I knew.
“Thank you, Belle.”
We embraced. Then I turned to leave.
“Before you go,” Belle said quickly. She snapped two blossoms from one of the hibiscus shrubs. She handed one to me.
“For Richard,” she said quietly, and she threw her blossom into the valley.
I held the bloom against my face for a moment, gave the flower a gentle kiss. I lifted my arm and let go, let go of pain and anger, fear and jealousy.
The pink blossoms drifted on a wind current, down, down, down toward the kukui trees.