how you exhausted your other possibilities and were in need of a guide to the interior while you explore for mineral deposits? In the Pahn territory and surrounding area? I believe you named a generous figure for the service you need.”
“I did, but...”
The bishop waved his hand. “Miss Baldwin here is in immediate need of an income and you are in need of a guide. Ergo, you two are a match made in Heaven.”
Stewart caught sight of Anna’s eyes widening in shock and disbelief. They must be mirroring his own. He hadn’t taken Bishop Michaels for an escapee from Bedlam when they’d first met. A match made in Heaven? “Bishop Michaels, Miss Baldwin told me last night that she works with the Pahn. But, with no offense intended to her, I need a guide, not a wife.”
The choking sounds coming from Miss Baldwin were alarming. Both men looked at her with concern. The bishop asked her, “Are you all right, my dear? Do you need water?”
She shook her head violently and managed to croak a response. “Not even to save my place here in Africa would I—”
The bishop broke in. “No, no. You both mistake me.” He turned back to Stewart. “I’m proposing a business agreement, one that will effectively save Miss Baldwin from having to make an untimely return home to Connecticut from the mission field.
“With the budget you mentioned, she can take you to the village and secure a relationship for you with the chief. Then she can afford to stay among the Pahn people another three months while she searches for longer-term funding. Along with the government permission your company already obtained for exploration, you, in turn, will have one of the only outsiders acceptable to the chief to vouch for you and your mining enterprise. God has provided for your needs, too.”
Anna protested, “Bishop, with all respect, Nana Mala is one of the most warlike and unpredictable chiefs in the interior. Government permission will only provoke him. We might lose any further chance to win souls in this village over mixing man’s business with God’s, especially since Mr. Hastings has already proclaimed himself an unbeliever. I cannot see... Oh, Mr. Hastings, I meant no slight.”
“None taken.” Being categorized as an unbeliever might be awkward in her view, but not in his. At least she had the sense to see how unworkable this plan really was, even if her reasons were different from his. He’d thought he was coming to discuss a guide, not hire Miss Baldwin.
The bishop’s jovial tone sobered. “Sometimes we need others, my dear, to see what’s best for us. I believe this situation will serve the Gospel by keeping one of my most fervent missionaries in a tribe that, if reached for Christ, could turn the tide in many surrounding villages. I’m sure you can manage the distinction between business needs and the Gospel.” He gave a fatherly smile. “Unless, of course, you have another financial solution, one God revealed since our conversation last night?”
She didn’t say anything at first, but Stewart could see the gears of thought turning. She nodded.
Was she really considering this? Was it money that swayed her? As for the bishop, had he lost his mind? But manners dictated Stewart not declare the sentiment aloud. “Bishop Michaels, I cannot see how your suggestion could possibly work. Look at her.” Stewart pointed. “She’s clearly incapacitated. I only wanted information on finding a guide. The last thing I need is a female missionary slowing me down on the trail.”
Anna glared. For a missionary she sure could give a look that would peel paint off a battleship.
Stewart ignored her and continued, “Besides, she’s an unmarried woman. Even if I had no objection, you can’t tell me you missionaries would send the two of us into the jungle alone.”
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
