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Malia's Courage

By Pamela Jo Harstad

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PROLOGUE

Could Malia help challenge such a major issue?
She adjusted the “Office of Maui Relations” banner behind the podium her brother, Kimo and his friend had dragged near an old road in the valley. A bit unorthodox—a Hawaiian rights rally in the middle of nowhere next to a sugarcane field, but the people needed to see and hear what was at risk.
Trade winds cooled Malia Hudson’s face and sugarcane leaves chattered in the adjacent field as if the cane approved. She shielded her eyes from the sun and stared at the area in question.
A glance revealed Kimo marching through the rows of folding chairs toward the small stage.
Malia stepped to the edge of the raised platform. “Anything I can help with, bro?”
“Nope, but it looks like some of the boards on the stage’s foothold aren’t lined up right. I’ll check on the base support.” Kimo shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the red dirt. “Let’s hope one of the wackos who’ve been threatening us at the OMR won’t protest or do anything underhanded. You all right with that, sis?” He searched her eyes.
She raised her brows. “No worries here. Won’t be a problem for me.”
“It’s not too late to change your mind.” Kimo squatted and surveyed the stage foundation.
“I won’t.” Malia shaded her eyes, stared toward the information booth a couple of hundred feet away. “The platform is all yours.” She walked toward the stand that Kimo’s friend, Asher managed.
Asher jammed to the music playing through his earbuds while he unloaded the brochures and petition clipboards. He came around to the outside of the booth, removed his earbuds and strode toward her. “I’m so glad you could come. It really means a lot to me and the OMR too.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. How did he manage to make people feel like they were the only ones who mattered? “Thanks for inviting me to speak today. I’ll do my best.”
He pulled back, dragged a hand through his dark, wind-blown hair. “Now that you’re back home, I hope that means you’ll be able to help us now and then.”
She met his gaze. “Yeah, sure. Anytime I’m available.”
“Excellent. I have a large schedule of meetings and events, but this one is really important. A rich, influential company with plans to illegally develop Hawaiian protected land crosses every boundary in my opinion. If we don’t get the word out, the developer could overpower the law and others with power and finances soon.”
“Unreal. Sorry to hear issues have gotten so out of hand lately.” She tilted her head to the side. “I’m glad to hear you’re working so hard for the people, but I hope you’re taking some downtime when necessary. Everyone needs rest and a personal life, too.”
“This is how I take a breather and relax.” He opened his arms wide and glanced around the area. “I’m outside, it’s beautiful here, I’ve been listening to my tunes and talking with you and Kimo. What else do I need?”
“I figured you’d give me that kind of an answer.” She wagged her index finger at him. “Not what I meant. I think ‘driven’ is your middle name.”
“Miss Determination, what else can I say?” His green eyes sparkled in the sun and he winked at her.
She giggled and stepped closer. “How about this? I thought you would’ve tied the knot by now.”
Asher jerked his head upward and chuckled. “Oh, yeah? Nah, I don’t think so, but I could say the same about you. Thought some guy would’ve snagged you a long time ago.”
She rolled her eyes. “You first. You’re older than me. Plus, I’ve been a tad bit busy with college.”
He cocked his head to the side. “I’ll give you that, but I’ll be looking for your wedding invitation in the mail soon. You’ll see.”
Malia crossed her arms. “Ha-ha.”
Asher patted her shoulder. “You’ll be a great help today.” He replaced his earbuds and strode toward the booth.
She moseyed toward the podium. An engine revved. She turned toward the road. A black truck sped out of nowhere and swerved off the road toward Asher and the booth.
Malia rushed toward him. “Asher!”
He turned and the vehicle rammed into him.
“No!”
Asher’s body careened into the air and smashed into the ground headfirst. His vacant eyes stared and his body lay contorted and motionless.
Tremors wracked her body. “Asher, please, no.”
“Run into the cane, Malia.” Kimo’s scream bellowed over her thundering heartbeat.
The truck sped toward her.

CHAPTER ONE

How would Malia ever grasp the terrible tragedy that had happened?
Brisk trade winds dried a few of the tears on her cheeks. She stooped to drop a white, orchid lei near Asher’s gravesite.
The situation would’ve turned out differently if she could have done something. Did she divert Asher’s attention away from fleeing the vehicle with her screaming at him? Did Kimo think the same thing about her actions? Maybe she should have asked Kimo to cancel the meeting when he mentioned the dissenters. If she’d stayed and talked to Asher longer, he could’ve run into the cane with her. Something. Anything. Why were her actions and opinions detrimental to so many people?
Asher’s family stood nearby with their heads lowered while the masses of people surrounding them stayed close by despite the fact the graveside service had ended about fifteen minutes ago. No surprise to see the continued support. What a huge crowd. Half of Maui must have attended as they should.
She returned to Kimo’s side and glanced at him. The same stoic, blank stare had remained on his face since they’d lowered Asher’s body into the grave. Malia grabbed his hand, but he didn’t move a muscle.
He scrutinized the grave, the first sign of life he’d shown since they’d arrived at the burial site.
Asher’s family departed and the other mourners slowly drifted away from the cemetery, but Kimo remained.
She dug inside her handbag for a tissue and wiped her nose. “It all happened so fast. I couldn’t see the person through the truck’s dark windows, but I should’ve gotten the license plate.”
“Don’t. He’s gone for good regardless of anything. Forever. Don’t you get that?”
His icy words. His stone-like face. It was as if he’d died with Asher.
Malia squeezed her eyes shut a moment. “Let’s hope we can find justice for Asher somehow.”
“There’s no ‘somehow’ Malia. It’s a given. We won’t let any cowardly bullies stop us from spreading the truth. I won’t let Asher have died for nothing.” His breath hitched.
“Agreed.” Malia squeezed his shoulder.
Kimo rubbed his eyes. “I need some time alone now.”
She sighed. “Okay. Call if you need anything. I’ll stop by to see you sometime tomorrow after my job interview.”
Malia traipsed along a dirt path and turned and glanced back at poor Kimo, so lost without his best friend. She passed several of her ancestors’ tombstones on the way to the other side of the cemetery. How had she let the time slip by since her return from Oahu without visiting her mother’s resting place?
Malia squatted down and cleared the red dirt and dust from her mother’s simple, beige headstone. Warm tears trickled down her cheeks. “I’m home again, Mom. I love and miss you so much. I messed up again too. If we could talk, if only for a few moments.” She draped a purple orchid lei over the corner of the tombstone.
Malia stood. A glance at the numerous gravestones and the surrounding revered grounds imparted peace. Yet nothing but Asher’s death and contempt for the Office of Maui Relations had surfaced since her return. What else would happen? Where would it end?
She shook her head, pressed her lips together and marched along the dirt trail to the parking lot.
A white piece of paper on her car’s windshield tucked under the wiper blade drew her attention. Malia jerked the sheet from the wiper. Posture rigid, she held her breath.

Development is sacred, not the land. You ain’t seen nothing yet.

Her heart pounded. She spun around. No other cars. No one in sight.
What happened to her once tranquil island home? OK, maybe she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time while a rare dissenter wandered through. Yet she’d never witnessed anything like this in a hallowed area. Was it meant for the Office of Maui Relations or specifically for her?
The hairs on the back of her neck raised.
Would someone have followed her here?

*

Malia bit the inside of her cheek.
Morning light crept through a high window at Nationwide Structures and Designs. She shifted in the reception area chair outside of architect Stone’s office. What if Mr. Stone was aware of the Office of Maui Relations incident and questioned her about it? He could have misinformation about what the Office of Maui Relations stood for and her involvement with the organization. With designer positions so scarce on Maui, did she have any chance of getting this position? She rubbed the twitching tic near her eye.
His office door cracked open.
Malia stood and smoothed her pale, blue skirt with her sweaty hands.
The tall, broad-shouldered architect wore a tan suit and navy-blue tie. Striking. He stepped into the waiting area and caught her gaze. Did he sense her nervousness?
“Miss Hudson?”
A shiver ran up her spine. “Yes, Mr. Stone.”
He extended his hand toward his office. “Please, call me Carter.”
“And I’m Malia.”
Rays of sun slanted through the large windows in his office and shone on the wall. Four framed certificates surrounded his architectural degree. If that wasn’t enough, nearly as many award plaques covered more of the wall. And any interior designer would approve of the mahogany wood and leather furnishings in this office.
He grinned and motioned toward a chair. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” She sat in the brown leather chair in front of his desk, folded her hands and drew in a breath.
Carter sat in his desk chair and faced her. “I’ve reviewed your resume, designer portfolio and highlights from your initial interview with Mr. Dickenson so there’s no need to inquire about your credentials. However, I’d like you to look over one of my construction documents for the modern, plantation style condominiums we have in progress.” He pushed a folder across the desk. “Make notations where you’d suggest lighting for the great room.” His fingers grazed hers as he handed her a pencil.
Warmth crept from Malia’s throat to her face. An impromptu quiz while he watched? Heaven help her. She gripped the pencil and made the notes. “Here you are.”
Carter took the sheet and raised a brow. “Hmm. I’ll review this more fully later on.”
“Of course.” She squirmed in her chair. What did he think about her answers? About her?
He leaned back. “Do you have any other questions about the position?”
Her pulse quickened. “When I applied to corporate headquarters for this job, they recognized that I’m also certified to provide environmental input. Would it be possible for .me to implement environmental friendly designs with your plans?”
He scratched his chin. “Yes, I think so for the most part. Environmental contribution should work with most of my schematics. However, Mr. Dickenson has recently acquired a business manager, Mr. Matthews. He is our immediate supervisor now and reviews our proposed plans. I can give him my advice and input, but he has the final say. We’re just getting started on this new project, but he hasn’t rejected my plans or been particular concerning these new architectural layouts so far. Does that help answer your question?”
She beamed and warmth generated throughout her body. “Yes, it certainly does. Thank you.”
He tilted his head and caught her gaze. “I remember we met briefly when you were here for your initial interview, but I believe I’ve seen you more recently.”
She gripped the edge of the chair. “Sorry. I don’t recall seeing you other than the interview. Where might it have been?”
He pressed his index finger to his lower lip. “On the local news.”
Malia’s pulse jumped into her throat. “Oh. Yes, I’m afraid so.” She forced her speech to remain calm and steady.
He raised his chin. “I didn’t watch all of it, but I thought I recognized you. Glad you’re OK.”
A few beads of perspiration trickled down her back. “Yes, thanks.”
Carter cleared his throat. “Mr. Matthews is gone for a few days, but Mr. Dickenson’s office will be in touch soon regarding the position. I’m anxious to get the first model home completed for our clients to view. You’re the last applicant and we’re ready to start this project.”
“I appreciate the information.” Malia stood. Why hadn’t she explained more about the Office of Maui Relations issues when he addressed the subject? Did he think she was an opinionated trouble maker?
She glanced through the window. A rainbow stretched across sky. Was it a good sign? She smiled and shook Carter’s hand.
Outside, a light breeze caressed her as she crossed the parking lot and entered her car. She drew in a large breath. Yes, Carter was a man she could work for without a moment of hesitation. Unassuming, friendly and accomplished.
However, he had mentioned the incident surrounding Asher’s death. Malia tapped her index finger against her lips. Would her ties with the Office of Maui Relations negatively influence Carter’s decision to hire her? Was she specific enough on the notes she’d given him about the project?
She blew out a breath and headed for her sister’s old, plantation style house.
Forty-five minutes later, Malia parked in the dirt driveway. Her phone vibrated and she snatched it from her purse. Her breath hitched. Mr. Dickenson’s office number.

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