Somewhere on Mackinac

by Jeff Adams

We headed out, and the route was recognizable because it followed the start of the locations tour. Even though I’d been here a few days, it was still odd to be on the streets with no cars. It was far less crowded than over the weekend too.

  It didn’t take us long to turn on to Lake Shore Drive, the island’s perimeter road. It was a bit after six and the sun was heading down, brilliantly orange in the clear sky and reflected in a kaleidoscope of reds and yellows on Lake Huron. We passed the Somewhere in Time tree, and it wasn’t much after that we were past town so there were mostly trees on my right and shore to the left. The more I was in secluded places like this, the more I liked it.

  We rode side by side, with Miles to my left.

  “This is so incredible,” I said. “I know I’ve been here before, but the whole thing is still unbelievable—from being right on the shore to riding a horse instead of being in a car.”

  “I thought you’d like this. We’ll stop in a couple of minutes and watch the sun drop behind the bridge.”

  The few people who passed us, headed back the way we’d come, said hello. Most called out Miles by name, and all had a friendly greeting. Miles was always quick with the hello, sometimes giving it first. It took me some time to get into it. I’d gotten used to giving nods to the people I passed in town, but it still felt weird greeting practically everyone. It just didn’t happen in the city so it was against my instincts.

  “We’re going to pull off to the right here.” Miles pointed to a spot after we’d ridden in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

  There was a pull-off that was planked over, like the boardwalk near the Grand. As we came to a stop, a marker caught my eye. This was called Devil’s Kitchen. After we dismounted, Miles tied up the horses while I read the plaque.

  “So you’ve brought us to a place where the spirits are said to capture and eat victims who wander too close. Charming,” I said.

  “You can imagine the horrors that a child could have venturing too close to this place.” He took one of the saddlebags off Wildfire.

  “You’re not planning me as a sacrifice or something, are you?”

  “Halloween’s over. Maybe next year.” He winked at me. “Actually this is a perfect spot to watch that.” He pointed to the west, across the lake.

  My breath caught, seeing the colors that played across the sky and water in an amazing display as the sun touched the top of the bridge. I’d watched a couple of island sunsets, but this one was spectacular because of our vantage point.

  Miles jerked his head toward the shoreline, and I followed across the street. Just off the pavement, there were rocks that led down to the water’s edge. He’d clearly been here before because he went directly to a rock formation that was taller than the rest.

  “The perfect seating for the best show on the island.”

  It was ideal. The size of the rock bench, for lack of a better word, kept us close with shoulders and legs touching. I had to remind myself, though, that we were just friends and sometimes friends sat close. Still, I liked the contact far more than I probably should’ve.

  “And I brought refreshments.” He pulled things from the saddlebag. “Coffee and milk chocolate fudge.”

  He handed me the thermos and set the pink fudge box on the ground in front of us. He also produced two mugs, so I opened the coffee and poured as he held them. I quickly closed the thermos and set it aside so I could take a mug.

  “Cheers,” he said, and we clanked our mugs together.

  “You really know how to stage a sunset.” I took a drink. “And you know how to make a cup of coffee too.”

  “I do, but in this case, it’s from Ryba’s. It’s a one-stop shop for all things decadent. Somehow they manage to mix the fudge into the coffee. I’ve been an addict since I was fourteen. Dad got me hooked on it.”

  “I think I’ll be one too.” I drank as Miles carved fudge off the block. “It’s dangerous I know about this because it’d be too easy to have it every day.”

  We sat quietly, eating, drinking, and watching the sun drop behind the bridge. Periodically there’d be horses or bikes on the road behind us, but mostly the only sound came from the gentle waves just a few feet from us. This was just one more thing to love about the island—and Miles. My insides were all aflutter, and I fought against quaking on the outside.

  “One of the best light shows I’ve ever seen,” I said as the sun went out of sight.

  “How about we take in a sunrise?” Miles asked. “We could meet up about seven and ride over to Arch Rock.”

  Was he trying to woo me? Dancing, horse rides, sunsets, and now sunrises were pushing all the romance buttons. Did that even make sense? Five hundred miles separated our lives. Although, Richard and Elise lived nearly seventy years apart and they still found each other.

  “It’d be a great way to kick off a day.” I reached for the fudge box to slice off another piece. “I’ll buy breakfast after.”

  “It’s a date.” My eyes had easily adjusted as darkness fell, so I didn’t miss the uncomfortable look on his face. “Well, not really a date, of course.”

  “Of course.” I looked back toward the bridge, which was now lit up. “What’re you up to the rest of the evening?” I went for a less awkward topic. I guess he’d considered the practicality of the distance between us too.

  “Put these horses to bed and get myself to sleep too. I’m usually an early riser.”

  “Same here. Always have been. It’s tough when I’ve got meetings or whatever at night because my body just wants to be in bed by nine.” Miles nodded, and after a quiet moment, I continued. “Thanks for bringing me out here. It was incredible.”

  “You’re welcome. There’s something about here. I think it’s the best place on the island to watch sunset. I come here often because it clears my head, especially these days. My dad used to do it too. Maybe we can do it again.”

  “Yes.”

  I fought against my instincts, which screamed at me to nuzzle closer to him. Instead, we sat in comfortable silence until we’d drunk the last of the coffee.

  “We should probably get going,” he said. “I’ll send you home with the fudge.”

  “I might just bring it along as a breakfast appetizer.”

  I took the box and stuffed it in my jacket pocket.

  “That works. Unless you eat it as a midnight snack.”

  “Very possible.” I stood and offered him a hand up. “The last batch I had called to me every time I saw the boxes. You sure it won’t be safer with you?”

  “I can get fudge anytime. You’re the visitor; you should definitely have it.”

  “I’m not gonna argue.”

  We laughed as we returned to the horses, which seemed happy to see us. Miles pulled carrots from the saddlebag he’d left on Wildfire and handed me some. Buttercup eagerly chomped them down as I scratched near her ears. Miles also handed me two Velcro reflector strips.

  “Strap those on your biceps so you can be seen,” he said.

  As I did that, he turned on a small light that was hanging at about chest level on each horse. The white light coming from it lit up the street for several feet.

  “Clever,” I said as I mounted Buttercup.

  “Safety first.” He secured Wildfire’s bags before mounting.

  We rode back to the stables, talking occasionally but mostly just taking in the night.

  Chapter Ten

  “DO YOU know Cal Larchmont?” I asked Miles when I got to his office in the afternoon. We’d had a great morning with the sunrise and breakfast. Afterward, I’d had a productive time getting some work done, which included digging further into his business.

  “Yeah,” he said as we shook hands and half hugged as he welcomed me into his office. The space was functional but cozy with lots of customer pictures and thank-you notes displayed on a large corkboard along one wall. “Why do you ask? And why do you even know that name?”

  We’d shared the half hug a few times this week, and I enjoyed them and
the tingles that shot through me in the aftermath. The more we touched, though, the more I wanted full contact. Restraint was getting more difficult. The logical part of my mind seemed to have been strangled by the carefree romantic.

  “I’ve been looking into who’s trying to get this place and why the bank would rather go that route than help you keep your family business. There’s a high probability he’s the one circling.”

  Miles dropped into his desk chair and rubbed his hand across his forehead.

  “I should’ve guessed it. Larchmont’s wanted property here for years. There are strict guidelines on development. With so much of the island being a state park and the entire thing classified as a national historic landmark, it’s not easy to get a foothold here. Two or three years ago, he lost out on a couple of larger properties, which are now undergoing huge renovations to bring in additional tourists. He approached my dad about selling when word got around he was retiring. I think he’s bought two homes that he’s made vacation rentals.”

  I sat in the chair across the desk from him. His distressed expression wasn’t one I liked. Larchmont scared him. More than anything I wanted to make this right.

  “Yeah.” I pulled out my tablet so I could take notes. “He’s bought four actually, one from a seller directly and three that were in foreclosure.”

  His expression fell a little more.

  “The deals were probably made before it became public,” I continued. “No doubt the former owners were happy to avoid the public embarrassment of having that kind of For Sale sign on their property. I’m surprised he didn’t try to buy out Nate.”

  “He couldn’t. When we got the business, the contracts were designed to help keep it in the family. Nate had to give me first refusal on it, and vice versa. As long as our parents are living, they have final right of refusal.”

  I nodded. “There’s no guarantee that Larchmont’s the one, but from the poking around we’ve done, it looks likely. Given that he’s paid cash and full market value for properties, it’s no wonder the bank would be okay if this all went to foreclosure.”

  “We’ve done?”

  “My business partner and I. We’re digging around, as we would for any client.”

  “But I’m not a client.”

  “No, you’re more. You’re a friend.” I fought the urge to take his hand and squeeze it to reassure him. “And helping businesses is what we do.”

  “Even ones this small?”

  “We’ve helped smaller.” I flipped some pages in one of the binders he’d loaned me and held up a page to make my point. “You’ve got a sound business plan, and before you took on Nate’s debt, you were solid.”

  A smile crept across his face. “Do you always make the worst situations sound okay?”

  I closed the binder and set it with the others, glad that I could brighten his mood with some facts.

  “Business is hard enough without worrying. You already think about your livelihood, your employees, and so on. I always try to emphasize good where I can, but I won’t sugarcoat either.”

  He stood, picked up the binders from the desk, and moved them back to the bookcase behind him. “How do I fix it?”

  “I don’t want to sound glib, but the easiest way to make all this go away is pay off the debt before the end of the year. I’m guessing that’s not possible even though the tourist season exceeded expectations.”

  We both knew the situation, so he simply shook his head.

  “We could try to put together some investors for you.”

  “How’s that work?”

  “We find people in our network who’d be interested with the goal to get enough cash to cover the debt. The investment group would co-own the business, and in this arrangement, you’d pay off as fast or slow as you can. The investors would also take a percentage of your profits until payoff. That percentage wouldn’t count against your principal.”

  “What keeps the investors from deciding to foreclose?”

  “As long as you’re running a viable business per the terms of the contract, they couldn’t. We’d work with you to form the business plan that makes the most sense.”

  “What’s in it for them?”

  “People have various reasons for investing.”

  His brow creased as he considered what I’d said. “I don’t know. It feels like I’d be going from one debt to another.”

  “I hope you know I wouldn’t recommend something to you that I didn’t think was the way to go.”

  He looked conflicted as he started to talk and then stopped himself several times. He finally sat back in his chair and looked confused. I knew it was hard. All he wanted to do was run his family’s stable, teach people how to ride, lead tours, and such. He knew how to do it under normal circumstances, but this was an exception. What I wanted to do was punch his brother for putting him into this situation.

  “What?” He sat forward, looking at me as I barely contained a chuckle at my thoughts.

  I couldn’t stay silent and ended up snorting as I giggled. “I was thinking about finding Nate and beating him up.”

  “Hmmmm. I’ve never had a protector before.”

  The look Miles leveled in my direction was smoldering, unlike anything I’d seen from him, even during the lushly romantic dance, which I admit to playing back in my head many times since that night. Heat and exhilaration radiated from my chest as I enjoyed being the one he looked at.

  I stood, leaned over the desk, grabbed Miles, and pulled him closer to me so I could plant my lips on his. He grunted at the initial touch, but he wasted no time kissing me back. The scratchy feel of his mustache and beard against my face were extra pinpricks of pleasure on top of the kiss.

  My tongue traced his lips while his tongue darted out to meet mine. We explored each other tentatively—as if we couldn’t decide how far to go. Perhaps we knew that we’d already gone too far.

  Without warning, Miles put one knee up on the desk and slid himself closer to me. Papers scattered as he shoved them aside. The mug holding his pencils and pens crashed to the floor when the desk’s contents were further disrupted by Miles bringing his other leg up so he was kneeling on the desktop. His hands landed on my shoulders, pulling us together.

  Miles took charge, ignoring the mess we were making. He pushed his tongue deep into my mouth while I flashed back on our dance. What would it have been like to be kissed like this on the dance floor? He slipped a hand around my head while my grip tightened on the back of his. We dueled over who was in more control of the kiss. The back and forth was hot, and more than ever, I wanted to know what sex with this man would be like. There was no stopping now.

  At least until there were two sharp knocks on the door, followed by “Boss?”

  We froze, looking at each other while our lips were still together. His expression was playful, and for a moment, I thought he was going to ignore the interruption.

  “Yeah?” He called out, breaking our kiss.

  “The Milners are here for their tour.”

  “Thanks, Caleb. Get the horses ready, and I’ll be out in about five minutes.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “That was close,” I whispered.

  “Nah. They respect a closed door.” He rested his forehead against mine. “What did we just do?” He sounded unsure.

  “As the one that started it, I can say I have no regrets.”

  To emphasize my point, I kissed him again. My heart soared as he kissed back. It was quick, though, because we didn’t need to get fired up again. He had a tour to do after all.

  “Can we go to dinner tonight?” He crawled off the desk. “And let’s just call it what it is. A date.”

  “I’d like that,” I said quickly. I didn’t want him to sense any hesitation, even though there was a little. I didn’t want to mess this up.

  “Great.” The excitement was palpable in his voice. “I’ll pick you up as soon as this tour’s done, probably around six thirty. I’ll give you a call when I’m on m
y way over.”

  He straightened the papers on his desk while I knelt down to pick up the writing implements scattered on the floor, in between shards of green and blue ceramic.

  “Didn’t mean to cause a mess.”

  “If you’re gonna kiss me like that, you can make all the mess you want. And you can leave that, I’ll get it later.”

  I left the mug’s remains on the floor but dropped the pens and pencils on the desk.

  “I should let you get going. The Milners are waiting.”

  He grinned and nodded. “Yes they are. Come on, then.”

  He came around the desk as I put my tablet back in my messenger bag. Once I slung it over my shoulder, he wrapped his arm around my waist and guided us toward the door. Before he opened it, I got one more kiss.

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  I nodded as he opened the door. We stepped into the main stable, and just outside, Caleb stood with three horses along with the Milners. There was a sting of jealousy seeing that one of the horses was Buttercup. I had no idea that I’d forged that sort of attachment to the animal. Or maybe I was jealous because I wasn’t the one going out with Miles, Wildfire, and Buttercup.

  I needed to get myself on the riding schedule.

  Miles raised an eyebrow and nodded to me before he headed off.

  “Sorry for the delay,” he said as he crossed the stable and I headed out the main people entrance, as Miles called it. I had some things I wanted to check on, based on the business talk we’d had. That would keep me occupied so I wouldn’t watch the clock.

  Chapter Eleven

  DINNER WAS wonderful. We talked endlessly about growing up. I told Miles about my exploits as a peewee hockey player, a career that ended after I’d sprained my ankle. Miles had hockey tales too, including playing pickup on the ice bridge in the dead of winter. He talked passionately about forming a bond with the horses and family business in middle school. Meanwhile I related my stories of business exploits as a kid. I’d been determined to have the best lawn-mowing business when I was fourteen. In college, I’d created a food-delivery business.