Free A Whisper of Danger by Catherine Palmer

thrown back in ecstasy.
    When had she lost her own joy? When had bitterness wrapped its roots so tightly around her heart? Would she ever again know childlike happiness, freedom, peace? Would she ever regain such hope? Would she ever hold the light of faith in her soul?
    “Hallooo! Hallooo, the house!” The shrill voice echoed through the rooms, startling Jess into drawing a harsh blue line across the sand.
    “Hodi, hodi!” The visitor called out the Swahili greeting used instead of a knock for houses without doors. “Is anybody at home?”
    Jess barely had time to put her pencils back in their slots before Miriamu hurried into the room. “You have a visitor,” she said. “ Memsahib Cameron has come to see you.”
    Jess followed the housekeeper down the stairs toward the sitting room. “Who is Memsahib Cameron?”
    “Your neighbor. She lives in the house just down the road and over the next hill.”
    Jess shook her head. “I wonder who else will show up. For some reason, I expected this place to be quiet. It’s like Victoria Station on a Monday morning.”
    Miriamu led the way into the front room where Dr. bin Yusuf ’s huge painting filled the wall. A small woman with soft white skin and mounds of cottony hair sat in one of the chairs. She had on a pale blue sleeveless dress that matched her eyes. Red-painted toenails peeked from the front of well-worn green flip-flops.
    “Ah, you must be Jessica Thornton!” the woman exclaimed, rising and holding out a cloth-wrapped bundle. “I’m your neighbor, Antoinette Cameron, but you must call me Nettie. I’ve brought you a lovely loaf of currant bread for your tea. I made it myself just this morning, so it’s still hot.”
    “Thank you. That’s very kind.” Jess took the warm offering. “I’ve hardly seen my own kitchen yet. I’m still trying to unpack and put things in order around here. We just arrived in Zanzibar yesterday.”
    “We? Are you married?”
    “I have a ten-year-old son, Spencer.”
    “Oh, how marvelous! A little boy. Everyone’s buzzing with the news of your arrival. Another artist living at Uchungu House. Such a surprise!”
    Jess felt the chilled edges of her heart begin to thaw. “Won’t you sit down again, Nettie?”
    “I shall prepare tea, memsahib ,” Miriamu said. “I shall return with the warm bread.”
    “Thank you, Miriamu.”
    The African woman left the room, and Jess realized how easy it was becoming to accept her assistance. It would be wonderful to keep both Miriamu and Solomon at Uchungu House—not only to provide them with a livelihood but also to make things simpler for Splint and herself. Though she hadn’t figured out how she could work through all the complicated details of life on Zanzibar, Jess felt determined to make everything right. And that meant Rick McTaggart—
    “I live just down the road from you,” Nettie Cameron was saying as Jess seated herself across from the little British woman. “It’s an easy walk, not more than ten minutes. You must come and pay me a visit straight away. I do love company. Bring your son as well. I shall teach him how to play Scrabble. I’m quite formidable at it.”
    “You may meet your match with Spencer. He loves words—the harder and more obscure the better.”
    “Ooh, lovely. We shall duel to the bitter death!” She laughed, a high tinkling sound. “When the Captain was alive, we’d stay up half the night playing Scrabble. I don’t believe there was a harsh word between us all the years of our marriage—except on Scrabble nights!”
    “The Captain?”
    “Captain William Cameron, King’s African Rifles. We were married for thirty-three years. A finer man could not be found in all the realm. I’ve been widowed a year now, much to my great sorrow.”
    “I’m sure it’s been difficult for you.” Jess tried to find words of sympathy, but her thoughts had returned to worry about her son. If Rick said anything to Splint about her . . . or if Splint somehow