Love Finds You in Mackinac Island, Michigan

by Melanie Dobson

  Silas blushed when Elena opened the door, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

  “I brought these for Jillian,” he explained, handing them to her.

  “Would you like to say hello to her? She’s right—”

  He shook his head as he backed down the steps. Then he was gone.

  * * * * *

  It was almost the end of August before Aunt Lottie sent Chase a letter about Jonah Seymour, and he read her response quickly. Part of him wished he could tell Elena the news in person, but he didn’t want to see her again—or her and Parker again. Perhaps her father could deliver the letter. Or he could leave it here for whenever she returned to Chicago.

  He stood up from his desk and walked over to the window, looking out at the steamers crossing the lake.

  The door opened behind him, and he turned. Richard walked inside, eyeing Chase’s stance by the window along with the tall stack of papers on his desk. Then Richard sat down. “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

  Chase shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “This woman—she’s haunting you, Chase.” Richard scooted the chair closer to the desk. “Are you going to tell me about her?”

  Chase thought for a moment. Richard was the best friend he had. Perhaps Richard could help him sort through all the warring feelings he’d had, help him rid himself of them so he could return to the contented state he’d enjoyed before he visited that lighthouse. “She’s a woman I met on Mackinac. A woman who loves the stars.”

  “Why do you call her Andy?”

  He sat on the chair. “It’s kind of a joke.”

  Richard raised his eyebrows. “You don’t joke, Chase.”

  He shrugged. “She said she liked the name of the nebula Andromeda. So I called her Andy.”

  “She said she liked Andromeda?”

  Chase nodded.

  Richard leaned back in his chair. “Fascinating.”

  “Why is that so fascinating?”

  “Because Andromeda was named after a chained princess.”

  “A chained princess?”

  Richard shook his head. “Haven’t you read Greek mythology?”

  “Very little.”

  Richard folded his arms across his chest and propped his feet on Chase’s desk. “It’s a Greek myth about a princess who was chained to a rock as a punishment for her mother’s boasting.”

  “Her mother’s boasting?”

  Richard nodded. “She was going to be sacrificed, to a sea monster or something, but was rescued.”

  Chase tapped his fingers on the desk before looking back at Richard. “I understand her.” That’s what Elena had said about Andromeda. Was it the chains she understood…or the sacrifice?

  “Who rescued her?” he asked.

  “Per—something,” Richard said. “He rescued the princess and married her.”

  Chase swiveled his chair, looking back out at the water. He supposed it was possible Elena didn’t know who he was at the lighthouse, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d set her mind to marrying him. Or at least, her mother had decided it for her. Perhaps she felt that she was chained, that she couldn’t marry for love. That she had to sacrifice herself for others.

  Perhaps she did need someone to rescue her. Not from poverty, but from the other chains that bound her.

  His heart raced within him. Could he still love her, after all that had happened? And more importantly, could she love him?

  “Chase?”

  Chase turned his chair back, raking his hands through his hair. “That—it explains a lot.”

  “Andy’s chained to a rock?”

  “Practically.”

  “And is there a sea monster?”

  “No, but there’s a mother.” He turned to his friend. “What time does the next steamer leave?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Chase, you’ll have to wait until the morning if you take the steamer.”

  Waiting until morning… Suddenly that felt like forever.

  Richard grinned. “Go rescue her on your own boat.”

  July 4, 1813

  It’s Independence Day for our country, but we can’t celebrate on Mackinac since we’re no longer independent.

  It’s been almost a year now of waiting. Waiting for Jonah, waiting for our country to take back this island. But the British aren’t leaving, and Jonah hasn’t returned.

  There is plenty of food for our summer—squirrels, rabbits, wild strawberries, nuts…. But the children and I, we don’t have enough wood or food to survive another winter.

  For Thomas and Molly, I must find out what happened to Jonah. And for me.

  If he is in prison, I will figure out a way for us to wait for him. If he is dead, the children and I will sneak onto a fishing boat to get off the island, though I don’t know where we will go. When Nickolas was last here, he said the British have control of the entire Michigan territory and all the ports along the Great Lakes.

  Last week, when I was picking strawberries, I saw a British soldier in the woods. He didn’t speak to me, nor I to him. I thought he might question my allegiance, but he didn’t, perhaps because of the Chippewa in my skin, a gift from my mother.

  If it weren’t for the sake of my children, I would be quite willing to die for my country.

  Who would take care of them if something happened to me?

  I will beg the Westmounts to care for the children while I search for Jonah. It will be the first time they’ve been out of our house for almost a year.

  I pray I find him at the fort. And I pray we find a way to bring my dear husband home.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The Bissette household was aflutter again, preparing for the final ball of Mackinac’s summer season. Jillian came back to the Bissette house for the evening to help the ladies prepare. Mama asked Jillian if she would return to Chicago with them, but she said she wanted to remain on the island until the general left with his family, the first of next year.

  When Mama left the room, Elena whispered, “Does this have something to do with a certain lieutenant at the fort?”

  Jillian’s smile emerged. “He’s been coming to call.”

  Elena grinned. She was disappointed for Parker, sad that it wasn’t going to work for him and Jillian to marry, but Silas Hull was one of the finest men she’d ever met. He would be a good catch for any woman.

  “No one else knows,” Jillian whispered.

  “He’ll take good care of you.”

  She glanced down at the floor. “It’s not as if he’s proposed.”

  “But he will.” Elena hugged her friend. “And you will be the wife of a lieutenant.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know how long he will be in the army. Mr. Darrington is investing in his fishing rod, you know.”

  Elena didn’t know.

  “If enough people order the rod, we may be able to buy ourselves a house.”

  Elena hugged her again. “I’m so happy for you.”

  At least one of them would be marrying a man who cared for her.

  “We have to get you ready.” Jillian turned Elena back toward the mirror. “Who are you planning to dance with tonight?”

  “I don’t care to dance with anyone.”

  Jillian pinned a headdress of mauve-and-ivory rosettes on Elena’s hair and then helped her fasten her sleeveless mauve evening gown. A satin bow gathered the long skirt at her hip, ivory ruffles cascading to the floor as her matching gloves climbed up past her elbow.

  “It’s too bad Mr. Darrington won’t see you tonight.”

  Elena waved her hand. “He wouldn’t care.”

  Jillian clasped the chain of Elena’s heart locket behind her neck. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

  * * * * *

  Chase surveyed the elegant ballroom in the Grand Hotel. The crowd had thinned over the summer, the dance floor now almost vacant. He’d come straight from his family’s yacht, not even stopping to knock on his mother’s door. He had to see Elena b
efore the night was over, to ask her forgiveness for not trusting her. She’d been living in the chains of expectation and loyalty to her family, but he’d been living in chains as well. He’d believed she was like all the other women who’d tried to deceive him, and it had crushed him.

  Because he loved her.

  “Mr. Darrington?” The Grunier young lady, the one with rosy cheeks, smiled at him, but she didn’t reach for his arm to confide in him, as she’d done at the masquerade party. Instead, Parker came up beside her with a glass of orange punch.

  Parker smiled when he saw him. “Are you here to see Lanie?”

  “Who?”

  “Elena—have you seen her?”

  “Not yet.”

  Parker nodded toward the porch. “Last time I saw her, she was standing out there.”

  Trudy drained her glass of punch, setting it on a tray. “Come, Parker,” she said, tugging on his arm.

  Parker patted her hand, the slightest smile on his face as he looked back at Chase. “My fiancée loves to dance.”

  Fiancée?

  Trudy giggled as Parker swept her toward the dance floor. Chase watched them dance for a moment, and then he rushed outside.

  He didn’t find Elena on the porch, but his mother was sitting on a wicker chair, drinking a demitasse of coffee. Her face lit up when she saw him. She stood and hugged him. “I didn’t know you were coming back.”

  “It was a last-minute decision.”

  “I see.” She couldn’t seem to help her smile. “If you are looking for the Bissette family, I believe they went home.”

  “Already?”

  “It’s after midnight.”

  A dog barked above them, and his mother laughed. “Galileo’s been missing you too.”

  “You mind if I go get him?”

  “He’s your dog, Chase.”

  His mother kissed his cheek, promising to meet him for a late breakfast in the morning.

  * * * * *

  Green light rippled across the sky, and Elena watched as the flickering swarm of stars chased the clouds away. Purple strands fluttered across the horizon like fireworks, exploding in the night. Yellow threads weaved through the curtain of color.

  In all her years on Mackinac Island, she’d never seen anything like it.

  The aurora borealis, that’s what Claude called it. Lights from the north that danced in the sky whenever their Creator saw fit. Their majesty was unrivaled.

  There was only one more day before she and Mama returned to Chicago. She was excited to see Papa and be in their home for as long as the bank allowed it, but she couldn’t help the sadness that filled her as well. This would be her last night at the lighthouse for the summer—perhaps for her lifetime. If they returned to Mackinac, their cottage would belong to another family.

  Orange light dripped over the blackness above her, but even with the beauty around her, there was a void in her heart. She knew God would fill it in time, but right now, it still ached.

  She was trying—and failing—to capture the display in her sketchbook when she heard the sound of a dog barking. Her heart leaped.

  “Galileo?” she called down from the tower.

  “It’s Galileo,” a voice called back. “And his owner.”

  Her reply caught in her throat.

  “We wondered if we could come up and watch these lights.”

  “I—I don’t know,” she replied so quietly that she thought he hadn’t heard.

  “Edward once called me a fool,” he said.

  A grin sprang to her lips. “Were you being one?”

  “I believe I’ve been one for the past two months.”

  Slowly she walked down the steps. The door to the lighthouse had a keyhole, but there was no key to lock it. Even so, Chase remained outside.

  She cracked open the door, and he slid an envelope through to her. “I brought this for you…and for Claude.”

  She took the envelope. “What is it?”

  “The rest of the story.”

  She swallowed. “Thank you, Chase.”

  Galileo barked again as she closed the door. She wished she could let him in along with his master, but she wanted so much more from Chase than a letter.

  She slid it into her pocket and waited.

  * * * * *

  Chase shivered in the cool weather, his ear pressed against the door. He wished he could see her eyes, to know if she was smiling or crying or still angry with him.

  “I know now that your father didn’t send you to check on my work,” he said to the door.

  She was slow to reply. “You thought I tricked you.”

  “I was being ridiculous.” He waited. “You didn’t try to steal my telescope just like you didn’t try to steal Sarah’s husband.”

  “Most certainly not!”

  “Someone told me you wanted to marry me for my money.”

  This time she cracked open the door. “I’m sorry for deceiving you.”

  He took a deep breath, needing to ask one more time. All he wanted was the truth. “Did you know who I was that first night, after the masquerade ball?”

  She shook her head. “My mother wanted me to marry you, but the you she had in mind was Chester Darrington, not the man I knew here in the lighthouse. I didn’t think Chase had any money.”

  His voice was sad. “You wouldn’t have married me if I wasn’t wealthy.”

  “My heart wanted to marry Chase, but my parents were hoping I’d marry Chester.”

  “A man you thought you’d never met.”

  “You don’t understand what it’s like, Chase, not only to be a daughter but also an only child.” She took a deep breath. “Our family’s finances were in ruin, and I had no way to support my parents except to marry well. Marry a man like Lottie Ingram’s nephew. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I felt I had no choice.”

  “And now?”

  “With the factory…with your help”—she swallowed—“Papa said there will be no more talk of marriage in our house until I’m ready.”

  Chase paused, fingering the simple ring in his pocket, a diamond molded into a golden heart to match her locket. “I wonder if you might be ready now.”

  This time she pulled the door completely open. “What?”

  He drank in the sight of her, the ringlets in her hair and the worn calico dress that had fascinated him…. Her eyes sparkled in the light, and he was certain he’d never seen anyone lovelier in his entire life.

  He cleared his throat. “I wanted to rescue you, like I did with Galileo here.” Like Sarah had done with Jillian. “I wanted to be your hero, until I realized you didn’t need a hero after all…at least not the kind I was envisioning.”

  “I did need you.”

  “You needed my money, not me.”

  “No, Chase,” she whispered. “I needed—I need you.”

  “I hurt you—”

  “At the masquerade party, you told Mrs. Grunier that you didn’t want to meet me because of my reputation.”

  He swallowed, remembering well the night. Not because of what he’d said about Elena, but because he’d met Andy. “I never should have said that.”

  “Why my reputation?”

  “Mrs. Frederick said you were trying to marry me.”

  She sighed. “She was right.”

  “I didn’t want you to care for me because of my money.”

  “I’m so sorry, Chase. At the time, I was hoping to marry you for your money. I didn’t know—”

  “It would have been all wrong, wouldn’t it? If we’d met someplace other than here.”

  She nodded. “We might never have stepped off the stage.”

  “I don’t want you to pretend with me, Elena. Ever.”

  “Come.” She reached for his hand, tugging him toward the steps. “You’re missing the show.”

  Upstairs, green-and-white sparks flashed across the night, more beautiful than any firework display he’d ever seen.

  When he put his arm around her, she nestled into hi
s suit jacket like she’d belonged there all along. “I want to trust you, Chase, as Magdelaine did Jonah. Never once did she suspect that he’d deserted her. But trust—it takes time to build.”

  “We have time, don’t we?” He kissed the top of her silky hair. “I found some answers about Magdelaine in Chicago.”

  “You were looking for answers?”

  He laughed. “They’re all written in that letter for Claude, but I wanted you to know first.”

  “What happened?”

  “According to Thomas Seymour’s grandson, Nickolas Westmount was a hero.”

  She stepped back. “He was?”

  He nodded. “Apparently when Magdelaine went to find Jonah, there was a fire at the fort. Nickolas and his wife assumed they were dead.”

  She nodded. “Magdelaine died in 1813.”

  “That’s what she wanted the British to believe, but she didn’t die until the 1840s. She and Jonah hid on the island until they could retrieve their children from the Westmounts in 1815, the day the United States regained control. Then they stowed away on a boat to Cleveland. They lived together as a family until Thomas became a lighthouse keeper on the mainland.”

  Elena was silent, a small smile on her lips. “I wonder why Claude is so ashamed of his granddaddy,” she said finally.

  “Perhaps he only knows the part about Nickolas being a traitor.”

  “Not everything is as it seems.”

  He wrapped his arm tighter around her.

  “Chase?” she whispered.

  “Mmm.”

  “I don’t want to run away anymore.”

  “I’m glad,” he whispered. Ever so gently he tipped back her head, and the warmth of her kiss splayed through his skin like the lights.

  She nestled against his chest, whispering to him, “I don’t want to run, and I don’t want to pretend.”

  He held her away from him, her face glowing in the lights as he examined it. “Are you pretending to love me?”

  She smiled. “I’ve been trying to pretend that I don’t.”

  He pulled her close, smoothing his hands over her hair, before he tilted her chin again. “No more pretending, Elena.”

  In her kiss, he knew. God was here, with him and Elena, and this time Chase could almost hear Him whisper.