Smoke Screen Page 9

  "This is valuable land."

  "More valuable to us than to anyone."

  "If it's historic, perhaps the New Zealand government might consider purchasing it as a park."

  "We don't want a park. We don't want a resort. We want to keep the land as it's always been. Active. Alive. Ours."

  "And you want to buy it as such?"

  Adam nodded. "There's one more story to tell."

  Paige tried not to be caught up in the velvet spell of his thickly lashed midnight eyes. She didn't want to be drawn to Adam; she wanted to forget he existed. Impatiently she waited for him to finish and leave.

  "There's a tribal legend that hidden somewhere in the thermals is a mauri." He spelled the word so she would see it was like the name of the town. "Mauri means many things in our language: life principle, source of the emotions, talisman. It signifies both a type of totara timber and the moon on the twenty-ninth day. Because of the wide variety of definitions, there have always been a wide variety of explanations for the town's name."

  "In my country names easily become obscure, too."

  She was polite to the nth degree. Adam supposed it was for the best, but he yearned for a spark of interest to enliven her eyes, even though he'd worked to extinguish that spark this morning. "There is always one correct explanation," he went on. "And in this case mauri refers to a talisman, an idol that's hidden somewhere deep in the thermals. I've spent the years of my adult life looking for it, and men before me have done the same. It's still there."

  "How do you know it exists?"

  "The legend tells us."

  "Every culture has its legends. Cities of gold, fountains of youth. Aren't they more important for what they say about the people who've believed them than for their accuracy?"

  "If you're a philosopher or a sociologist, perhaps. If you're an archaeologist or a historian, not necessarily. In that case, the unearthing of the legend, the verifying, is more important."

  "But if all those hours have been spent, and nothing has come of them..."

  "You haven't seen the thermals, not really. You've barely been past the edge."

  She couldn't resist. "Not for lack of trying."

  Adam didn't miss a beat. "When you see them in their entirety, you'll see why we haven't been successful as yet. But we will be." He turned to Henare Poutapu and began a rapid, fluent Maori exchange with him.

  Paige listened and waited. She wondered how much of her conversation with Adam the old man had understood.

  Adam turned back to her. "Henare would like me to tell you the legend. Then we'll tell you our offer. But first, do you understand anything about the way the Maori community organizes itself?"

  "Only a little."

  "We're very aware of our ancestors. In pre-European times, we were even more aware. For instance, each of us knows the canoe that carried our ancestors here, and the name of the tribe or iwi we're part of. Beyond that, we break it down even farther, into hapu or subtribes. The Maori people who live around Waimauri are almost all members of the same hapu, which means we have a common ancestor of many generations ago from whom we can trace our descent."

  Paige had the distinct feeling that Henare Poutapu's eyes were boring a hole in the side of her head. She kept her own eyes firmly fixed on Adam.

  "Hundreds of years ago, an ancestress of our hapu, Hori-i-rangi, died, and after her death she assumed the status of a goddess. Paiaka, a chief of our tribe built a pa—a fortress—on the top of the Tihi O Tonga ridge outside Rotorua. The image of Horo-i-rangi was cut into the cliff face and venerated as a mauri. The image wasn't worshiped. A mauri is a symbol, in this case a symbol of the fertility of the surrounding forests. It was believed that making offerings to her would assure that birds would be plentiful. The gifts were laid in a pataka or storehouse carved in the rock beside her image, and it was a very sacred place. The mauri and the pataka were protected by guardians throughout the generations."

  Despite her intention to stay detached, Paige found her imagination caught up in the story. "Is this the mauri Waimauri's named for?"

  "Yes and no." Adam tried not to notice the way her dark eyes sparkled. "The last guardian, Rangiriri, decided to cut the mauri out of the cliffside in order to preserve it. The mauri had been discovered, and there were fears it might be destroyed. First, the mauri was placed on a tiny islet in a stream, but later it was handed over to the Auckland Museum for safekeeping."

  "And it's not there anymore?"

  "It's there. Its twin isn't. You see, there's long been a legend that there were two carvings of Horo-i-rangi. One outside the pataka on the Tihi O Tonga ridge, one carved into a cliffside here in the thermals. Because only the tohungas or priests ever approached the mauri, few people knew the truth. Now it's said that at the time Rangiriri cut out that cliffside mauri and took it to the stream, the other was still hiding here in the thermals, where it had been for many generations."

  " 'Hiding here in the thermals' is rather vague, isn't it?"

  Adam nodded, glancing at Henare to exchange a few sentences before he turned back to Paige. "We have a little more to go on, but not much. The tohunga who was its last guardian was a clever man. He left enough description to make us believe the mauri exists, and little enough to make it nearly impossible to find."

  "Apparently he didn't want it found."

  "I like to think he wanted it found by the right people."

  Against her better judgment, Paige smiled. "And you're the right people?"

  "I've yet to find it. But I will."

  She paused to put all the information together. "If the mauri were found, would you still want the property? Or would you want to remove the mauri and place it in a museum?"

  "The property," Henare said the word with a verbal grimace, "is ours. It will never cease to be ours because it is our history, our heritage, ourselves. The mauri is ours, too, and it won't be removed."

  Paige's questions about the old man's knowledge of English were answered. "Both of you must know," she said, turning to include him, "that I'm only a representative of Duvall Development. I don't make the final decision about this. I'll have to take all offers back to my father for his consideration."

  "And your mother?" Henare asked.

  Paige was surprised that Ann Abbott had entered the conversation. "Mother has nothing to do with business. I'm sure she'll turn this over to my father to handle.""

  "She has no interest in an inheritance?"

  "She has no interest in New Zealand," Paige said frankly. "I don't know why, but to my knowledge she hasn't been back since she married my father thirty years ago."

  Adam tensed, and his eyes sought Henare's. Henare did nothing more than signal him to make their offer. "The official committee of our hapu has empowered me to make you a bid for the land."

  Paige listened carefully, hoping that Adam's offer would be as generous as Hamish's had been. She wanted to sell the land to his hapu. Even if the offer was a little less, she thought she could rationalize the sale to her father. But the amount Adam quoted was far less than Hamish's had been. She listened to the details of how the money would be raised, how management would be divided, how the deed would read. When Adam finished, she shook her head regretfully.

  "Adam, you know I've had another offer. It was substantially higher than that."

  He had known it probably would be, but he had hoped. "Then we'll find a way to meet or exceed your other offer."

  "Can you really do that?" She sat forward a little, forgetting for a moment that she was trying to stay as far away from him as possible. "We're talking about a lot of money. And if I wait too long, I might lose my other bid. Pacific Outreach Corporation might find another property."

  "We'll apply to the Arawa Tribal Trust Board for the difference."

  "How long will that take? And will you be assured of getting the money?"

  For the first time since arriving with Henare, Adam showed his frustration. "Everything takes time, Paige. Are you in such a
hurry that you can't even let us try?"

  Paige was irritated, but she tried not to show it. She had made a decision not to let Adam get under her skin. "I'm a businesswoman working for a large company that values time almost as much as it values land. How do I explain that I'm waiting for an offer that might never come when I have an excellent offer already?"

  "Then you won't wait?"

  "I didn't say that." Without realizing what she was doing, she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, tumbling it around her face. For a moment she forgot Henare was there. "Would you stop putting words in my mouth and expecting the worst? And please stop pretending you know what's going on in my head. No one knows me that well."

  "I apologize," Adam said with a slight smile. "But tell me in what way I was wrong. You'll wait for us to make our application to the board?"

  "I'll wait, but not indefinitely." Paige sat back in her chair. "You have three weeks."

  “We'll need at least six."

  "I'll give you four. Then I'll take all the information back to my father and let him decide." She hesitated, but she knew she had no choice other than to ask him for something now. "In exchange for the time, I'd like you to arrange a guide into the thermals. If you can't, I'll ask Hamish to find me someone."

  "I've told you I'll guide you."

  "You've told me other things, too, including how little you want to spend time with me."

  She said the words casually, but from Adam's perspective, they dripped with feeling. Henare saved him from answering. "There is no one else in Waimauri who can show them to you the way Adam can. If you really want to see them, you have no choice." He stood. "Thank you for listening to us, Miss Duvall. Adam, I'll wait for you outside."

  Paige stood, too, but Henare was gone before she could say anything else to him. Adam came to stand beside her. "Then you'll let me take you in?"

  "Can I trust you not to leave me beside a mud pool?"

  "Only if you stop sniping at me."

  "I don't snipe," she said haughtily.

  "Kei runga te korero, kei raw te rahurahu."

  "Meaning?"

  "Loosely? Under honeyed words lies mischief."

  "Don't expect either honey or mischief. I need a guide. You need a well-informed source to plead your cause. Quid pro quo. I give, you get. And vice versa. Nothing more. If you can be polite, I can be polite."

  Standing this close to her, Adam wondered if a thin shield of politeness would be protection for either of them. They were going to be forced to spend time together. They could pretend an aloofness neither of them felt, but he wondered just how far it would get them.

  Now wasn't the time to worry. Now they had to call a truce. There would be plenty of long, lonely nights in the coming weeks for regrets.

  "Then you'll let me take you in?" he repeated.

  "I will, and thank you."

  Adam nodded. He was in the doorway before he spoke again. "We'll start early. Wear sturdy hiking shoes and bring your bathers. That's a swimsuit to you." He stepped out on the porch, then turned. "Oh, and Paige..."

  "Yes?"

  There was the barest sparkle in his eyes. "If you're desperate for a pet, you might want to inquire in town. Cornwall hardly suits you."

  Chapter 7

  “Cornwall, you just don't suit me."

  Paige stood on her front porch combing her sleep-tumbled hair back from her face with widely spaced fingers. Cornwall stood on the front porch gazing yearningly toward her door.

  "No dog suits me. No animal suits me, especially not at five a.m." She yawned, then covered it with a fist. "Shoo."

  Cornwall didn't move.

  "If I go inside and leave you here, you're going to howl, aren't you?" She wasn't sure she could bear to listen to Cornwall's pathetic pleas again. He had jolted her out of bed minutes ago. There was no telling what she might do to him if he woke her once more.

  Yesterday, Adam had solved the Cornwall problem by two short whistle blasts. Paige shrugged. Pointing a finger in the direction from which Cornwall had come, she gave two weak whistles. In a second Cornwall was standing on his hind legs, front legs on her nightgown, trying to reach her face with his tongue. The impact was enough to send Paige sprawling. Cornwall took advantage of her loss of dignity by springing on to her now available lap and covering her face with what passed for kisses.

  Paige shielded her face with her arms.

  "I'm beginning to think you live on this porch."

  Paige didn't need to uncover her eyes to know who was there. "Go away, Adam, and take this monster you bred with you!"

  "Cornwall!" Adam gave two sharp whistle blasts, and Cornwall retreated to the porch's edge.

  Paige wiped her face with her sweatshirt-clad arms and addressed her remarks to the sheepish sheepdog. "Today I'm going to buy you a collar and a chain." She looked up at Adam. "And I'm going to show you how to use them."

  The smile on his face could have lit the morning sky if the newly risen sun hadn't been lighting it already. Too late, she realized what he was smiling at.

  "Fine, Adam." She stood, brushing off the skirt of her nightgown. "So you don't see a woman in a silk nightgown and a sweatshirt every day of your life. I'm glad I could make your morning."

  "The latest in haute couture?"

  "The latest solution to traveling light. What are you doing here?"

  "I told you I'd be by early."

  "You're going to have to learn the distinction between civilized early and uncivilized early." She pulled the oversized sweatshirt lower to cover her hips. "What time do you get up, anyway?"

  "The minute I have to and not a minute before." His eyes traveled down to the diaphanous white silk covering her legs. He wasn't sure whether to thank or curse the designer who had slit the gown up to her thigh. "What is it between you and Cornwall, anyway?"

  Her eyes narrowed. "I encourage him. You know. I leave a trail of steak bones between your house and mine. I lure him here with promises of pretty little French poodles and solid gold fire hydrants."

  "I'm going to have to get rid of him if he doesn't shape up quickly."

  "I'm sure some nice old lady in Waimauri would love to have him as a pet." Paige watched Adam's smile disappear. "Somehow I get the feeling that's not exactly what you have in mind."

  "He's not a city dog. He's a country dog, and he's used to roaming. If he starts roaming and scattering another sheepman's mob, he's going to find himself at the lethal end of a shotgun. And then I'll be the one who gets the blame. Better my shotgun."

  "Somebody taught him his stupid tricks. Give Cornwall to them."

  "My cousin Pat is irresponsible enough to teach him the tricks and too irresponsible to live with the consequences." Adam shoved his hands in the back pockets of his black trousers. "I'll make certain Cornwall's locked in the shed at night so he doesn't bother you again."

  Paige fought her wave of pity for the dog, but it was no use. "I’m sure he won't be back." And if he did reappear, Adam was going to be the last person to know. Paige didn't want Cornwall's death on her conscience. "Come have some coffee while I change."

  Adam signaled Cornwall and pointed, and Cornwall headed toward home. Then Adam followed Paige inside.

  He concentrated on the house, trying to ignore the way the thin silk outlined her hips as she walked. He had been here only yesterday, but now he paid attention to the changes she had made since arriving. He was startled to realize how many there were.

  The spinster primness of the little bungalow had been transformed by the clever rearranging of furniture and the placement of accents she had probably found in old cabinets. In the corner a vase filled with wildflowers decorated a newly polished table; on the mantel a glass bowl held an assortment of ripe fruit. An afghan of brightly colored squares hid the worn back of a sofa, and crocheted doilies embellished the backs and arms of all the chairs. Even the windowpanes shone like flawless diamonds.

  "You've spent some time fixing this place up." Adam stood i
n the doorway and watched Paige plug in the percolator.

  "I'll be here a while. I wanted to be comfortable."

  "Then you plan to stay the four weeks?"

  She had spent the greater part of the last afternoon trying to decide exactly that. In the end one thing had persuaded her: there was nothing to go home to, or for. "I plan to stay."

  "Won't you be missed?"

  Paige supposed the answer was at the root of her discontent. Her absence would be noted, but would she be missed? She shrugged. "Not really. I completed everything else I was working on before I came here. If I go home, I'll be immersed in busy work someone else could just as easily do." She didn't add that she was also certain that once she left New Zealand, her father would probably find a way to keep her from completing this transaction.

  "You're going to be bored."

  "Apparently you know me better than I know myself." She folded her arms and turned to him, leaning on the counter. "Maybe you can inform me when I start feeling bored. Without your insight, I might not notice."

  He kept his eyes on her face, studiously trying to ignore the leg so elegantly revealed through the slit of her gown. "How are you going to spend your time, then?"

  "I'm going to help you look for the mauri."

  He hadn't expected that. "You think so?"

  "Yes." She turned back to the counter at the sound of the coffee perking. "Let me get you a cup, then I'll change. Shall I make anything to take with us?"

  "I've packed some food."

  She reached up into the cabinet, hiking her gown higher. "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home."

  Adam averted his eyes. He felt anything except “at home.” The temperature of his blood rivaled the hottest springs in the thermals. After she left the room he wanted to call out and tell her to forget about the swim he had mentioned yesterday. The gown had been hard enough to take; he didn't want to see her in a bikini.

  Instead he leaned on the counter, sipping weak coffee and wondering why the only thing he had felt when she'd said she was staying was relief.

  * * *

  The hills they crossed were the same ones Adam had led Paige over the day they had met. Now, as then, Paige's long legs barely kept up with the pace he set. She was in good physical condition. At home she spent the mandatory hours at an Uptown health club, swimming and working out, but even that hadn't prepared her for this near-jog over New Zealand's fertile countryside.