My Heart Belongs on Mackinac Island

by Carrie Fancett Pagels

  The doctor laughed. “You’ll see people all over this island hugging and kissing Maude. She’s the island’s sweetheart.”

  With good reason—even a newcomer like he could see she was beautiful, kind, and gracious.

  “Sit tight here for a moment.”

  I was able to save this boy. Thank You, Father, for putting me in the right place at the right time. And, Lord, if You could show me what Your plan is for me, I am willing to listen. And if You have a place in my life for this lovely lady, Maude, then thank You. But provide a way, for You know I have no provision for her.

  With this injury, would his research and story be sunk? The plaster on his back tightened as he drew in a deep breath.

  Before long, the doctor eased the door open to the room and touched the bandage. “Drying up nicely.” He handed Ben his shirt.

  “You must be a special man, Mr. König, for Maude to speak so highly of you.”

  “Special? Nein—I’m as ordinary as they come.” Hadn’t the thugs on the streets of Chicago tried to ram that into his head? He was a nobody—the son of immigrant factory workers and himself a newsie, selling papers on the street. He’d sworn to himself that one day his byline would be in a big paper. And God had granted his wish. As he fastened his cuff links, something niggled at him. Had he ever really asked the Lord to help him? He and God hadn’t been on good terms back then. A flush heated his neck.

  “You all right, Mr. König?” The doctor placed a firm hand on Ben’s shoulder.

  “Ja.”

  “Well, regardless of what you think of yourself, Jack’s family is grateful. And we on Mackinac Island open our arms to those whose kindness and bravery protects our own.”

  Ben found himself speechless. Had he just gained entrée and the “right” to speak with islanders and get answers about Greyson Luce? He pictured his engraved nameplate—BEN STEFFAN, ASSISTANT EDITOR.

  The doctor removed his hand and took two paces toward the door before turning around. “Unfortunately, one of our own—that wastrel of a beau Maude had, didn’t realize what would happen when he up and married another woman.”

  Greyson and Anna? A knot formed in his gut—a double-tied lover’s knot. A knot that had come unloosed.

  “This beau—he was from the island, also?”

  “Yeah. A fellow named Greyson Luce.” The man scratched at his cheek. “Used to be a good island fellow. But now …”

  Confirmation from a reliable source. While the physician chattered away, Ben took mental notes, his fingers itching to write the information down. All was fitting together. Maude crying at the docks, with Luce and Anna behind her. Marcus’s comment that Luce’s former fiancée owned the inn on the curve. As a journalist, he needed that verification.

  “I have met this Greyson Luce in Detroit, I believe, with Miss Forham.”

  A muscle in the man’s cheek twitched. “Was he sporting her about all year long?”

  Ben nodded his assent. “He squired her around to a number of social events.”

  Dr. Cadotte shook his head. “I guess Greyson had us all fooled—even his own mother.”

  Did he? What about Anna?

  Mrs. Forham’s plea, before her death, echoed in his conscience—“Look out for my girl.” The sweet lady, a native of Prussia and a cast-off daughter of a duke, like his mother, had recognized Ben’s resemblance to his grandfather and uncle but had kept his secret to the end, as far as he knew. But every time he covered a social event she’d attended, Zofija Forham approached him, placed a gloved hand on his arm, and prevailed upon him to keep an eye on effervescent Anna, who could disappear into a crowd in the wink of an eye. Had the lady meant she had suspicions and wanted Ben to keep her daughter out of the Detroit newspapers? Had she used his sympathies as another person rejected by his aristocratic German family to spare the Forhams embarrassment?

  Maybe so.

  Banyon was under no such compulsion, though.

  “I’m sorry for Miss Welling’s maltreatment.”

  A muscle in the doctor’s jaw twitched. “Greyson was a cad of the first caliber. We’ll not be tolerating anyone breaking Maude’s heart, eh?”

  The look he gave Ben, with his gray eyes narrowed, would have frozen him on the spot. Except for one thing. “Doctor, she doesn’t look to be too heartbroken to me.”

  Rubbing his chin, the physician’s eyebrows knit together. “You know, I think you’re right.”

  So either Miss Welling was more cold-natured than she appeared, or she’d never given her heart to Luce. He prayed for the latter.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday afternoon was Maude’s personal shopping day. Since she would begin work on Monday, she’d make good use of her time.

  Maude set out for town, the breeze carrying lilac and wildflower scents. Sapphire water, bordered by turquoise, leaped as opal waves scattered the blue beauty. A lovely matched pair of gray mares pulled a surrey toward town—Pastor McWithey waved as he and his sweet-faced wife passed by.

  Up ahead, pedestrians crossed the street from the docks to the various stores in the heart of town. Soon she arrived at Uncle James’s shop. Bolts of pretty pink-and-white cotton fabric displayed in the window caught her eye. Maude ducked into the mercantile and inhaled the scent of lemon soap and bayberry candles. Kerosene lamps for sale dangled from hooks hanging in the overhead beams.

  From farther back, a familiar voice carried to her ears. Greyson Luce’s.

  “Oh, Mrs. Cadotte, you’re just as lovely a lady as ever. And this is my bride, Anna.”

  Greyson and his flattery. Funny how quickly the pain had turned to irritation. Not just with Greyson, but with herself. In this very shop, she’d last purchased material to sew a special dress to accommodate his mother’s infirmity.

  Anna’s hand grazed the handle of a nearby pram and settled there. She and Greyson stood in front of the infant-needs section of the store. Surely it was coincidental. They’d only been married a short time.

  Maude hurried from the emporium, crossing the street toward the docks. She reached the dock side of the street as one of Stan’s drays drove by, piled high with luggage. She waved to the driver, and he nodded back at her.

  Seagulls dipped and snatched up pieces of bread from someone’s breakfast abandoned at the docks. When she paused at the landing, she spied a steamship moored. Cadotte line.

  Her uncle’s boat. Uncle Robert had to be here somewhere.

  A flash of red caught her eye. Attired in a red flannel shirt, her uncle was so trim and his cheeks glowed with such health that she almost didn’t recognize him. But he wore his blue-tinted lenses—a dead giveaway. She blinked and then stared, trying to convince herself it truly was Uncle Robert. He looked as he had about ten years earlier and much closer to his age of thirty.

  He watched her in amusement from a nearby bench.

  Moving toward him, she sidestepped walkers milling about. “You’re here.”

  “Yes, I am, Maudie.” He cupped her elbow, the feel comforting, stabilizing.

  A tear slipped down her cheek.

  He pulled her into his arms. Gone was his thick beard. Robert’s chin felt warm and smooth against her forehead. “Kept hoping I’d see you in St. Ignace.”

  “I didn’t get over at all this year.” She recalled at ten years old, standing here with her mother’s younger brother, him offering to sail her to St. Ignace to watch the lumberjacks’ contests. “I don’t care about those silly things,” she’d insisted—but she had. Oh, how she’d wanted to go and see those big men roll the logs beneath their feet, throw axes, and chop down trees, the mighty pines landing with an earth-shaking thump. But when she’d gone to the mainland during haying season, she’d had to be rushed back home. Her cheeks heated remembering her humiliation at ruining the trip for everyone.

  Robert sucked in another breath and released her, holding her at arm’s length. “Maudie, I’d hoped I’d run into you.”

  “About time you came back!” She couldn’t believe h
e’d really stayed at St. Ignace so long—almost a year.

  Boat horns sounded. She jumped. Then they both laughed.

  “How long can you stay away from your boat?”

  His hazel eyes met hers. He shrugged then averted his gaze. “My new boats won’t be ready until next season.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She’d heard about the fire on one, and the other sank in Lake Superior during a gale.

  “Me, too.” Pain flickered over his handsome features. “Gave up my captain’s seat so Captain Blake wouldn’t leave me for another line.”

  “That was generous of you.”

  “Good business decision.” He shook her hands lightly. “Besides, I have some things to take care of here on the island.”

  What was wrong with him? He was acting as skittish as the chestnut horse she’d just seen.

  Dropping her hands, he drew in a long breath. “I won’t be staying at the inn.”

  “I see.” But she didn’t. “Of course, we’ll miss having you.”

  He barked out a laugh. “I doubt your father will feel that way, but I’m hoping I can get him to see reason.”

  Maude frowned. “About what?”

  Robert cocked his head. “Let me get things resolved with him first, and then I’ll share with you. All right?”

  “I guess I have no choice.”

  “Don’t worry, he’s got his head in the sand right now, but I’ll pull it out now that I’m here to assist.” He winked.

  She needed to tell him, in case he hadn’t been told. “Have you heard about Greyson?”

  He squeezed her hand. “You were too good for him. Time to look elsewhere.”

  At the Grand? Would being there give her a chance to learn more about Mr. König?

  “Dr. Cadotte prescribed this medication for three times a day.” The town druggist handed Ben a blue bottle.

  “Danke. Thank you.” Ribs aching badly, he pulled out his wallet.

  “No need. Miss Welling came by yesterday.”

  “But I insist.”

  Cigar smoke drifted toward them as a brown-suited customer approached the register.

  “Aren’t you the fella who saved Jack’s neck?” the druggist asked. “I’m Jack’s uncle, Henri Cadotte—the doc’s brother.”

  Which meant the good doctor was also Maude’s uncle. “Ah, well, I’m not so sure I saved his neck, but maybe some other bones.”

  The druggist smiled at Ben. “We’re grateful for what you did for our little athlete. Mark my words—Jack Welling will be an Olympic champion one day.” He squared his shoulders. “Everyone is proud of that boy.”

  “And everyone loves his sister.” The druggist pointed out the window where Maude Welling stood—embracing a strapping gent.

  “Such a shame about Robert losing several of the ships this winter, isn’t it?”

  “Captain Swaine has lost a lot this past year,” the other customer agreed.

  “Humph, he’s gained a few things, too.”

  Outside, dressed in what looked like a lumberjack’s flannel shirt, the man clutched Maude’s elbows and stared down at her with undisguised love then wrapped his arms around her. She clung to him as though the man had given her life-sustaining breath.

  Ben had no right to be jealous. Yet he was. Completely irrational.

  Henri patted Ben’s back, and he flinched. “Come on, I’ll walk you over to Maria’s Café. She’s my sister, and I’m sure she’d like to treat you to a nice meal for rescuing our nephew.”

  And would she treat Ben to a portion of island gossip? “Ja. Thank you.”

  By the time they stepped out into the street, Maude and Captain Swaine had disappeared. The two men waited for the steady stream of carriages and bicycles to stop long enough for them to cross.

  “Maria!” Henri called out to a handsome woman with wren-brown hair.

  She smiled at them from behind the counter.

  “Sis, this is the fella who helped Jack.”

  Maria glanced around at the customers. “Just make sure his father doesn’t hear that. Peter worries too much about that boy as it is!”

  A waitress, who looked to be a younger version of Maria, carried steaming platters of corned beef and cabbage past.

  “Would you like the special?” Maria smiled at Ben. “On the house.”

  He’d eaten so much watery cabbage and beef growing up that Ben could no longer stomach it.

  “Try the baked grayling. It’s fresh.” Henri pecked a kiss on Maria’s cheek.

  “And overfished.” Maria arched an eyebrow. “But we’ll enjoy it while we still have it.”

  A young girl, perhaps thirteen or so, finished pouring coffee for four elderly men seated at a table in the center of the square-shaped café and joined them. “You eating, Uncle Henri?”

  “No, have to run. But help get this man a grayling platter.”

  Maria led Ben to a table as Henri departed.

  The young girl directed him to a table. Light freckles dotted her pert nose. “Get ya some coffee, sir?”

  “Ja, danke.”

  A pucker formed between her blond eyebrows.

  “I’d like some coffee. Yes, thank you.”

  “Only one who ever excelled in German at school just finished up college.”

  He hazarded a guess. “Greyson Luce?”

  “Yup.” She bent forward. “He can’t be too smart, though—he dumped the sweetest and nicest girl on the whole island.”

  Ben nodded. “I’ve only recently met Miss Welling and her brother, but I’d agree.”

  Her eyes grew large. “So you’re the man who saved Jack, eh?”

  “Some say so.”

  “They’re my cousins.” The girl bobbed her head and then left them. Ben needed to ask about Greyson, about Swaine, about the Wellings.

  So absorbed was he with the questions he wanted to ask them, he didn’t realize the proprietor was standing at his elbow.

  “Well, Mr. König, I think the girls have got everything under control. Do you mind if I sit with you for a moment?”

  “No, please do.”

  She pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “It’s a shame that Maude has gone through so much. Between her mother and other things …”

  She pursed her lips together tightly.

  Ben stretched his neck. “If you mean Mr. Luce’s behavior, I’m already aware he broke his vow to her.”

  Maria’s dark eyes scanned his face. “Well, in fairness to Greyson, I’d say they weren’t suited. And if rumors are true about his wife, then …” She clamped her lips together as though she’d said too much.

  Ben gauged whether to push for more information. “We have to trust in God.”

  “Well, thank God you saved my nephew.”

  Her daughter returned with a cup of coffee. “Cream pitcher is right there, sir, and the sugar.”

  “Danke.” Glancing up at her, he met a pair of twinkling eyes. Her enthusiasm reminded him of his sister’s bubbly personality. A pang in his heart caused him to avert his gaze back toward her mother.

  The girl moved to another table.

  Maria sighed. “I don’t know what Maude would have done if she had lost Jack, especially with her father sick now.”

  Her father ill. “At least she has Captain Swaine to help her.”

  Maria glanced around the café before leaning across the table. “Robert was always such a fine young man. But if I were you, I wouldn’t mention his name—or Greyson Luce’s—to too many people around the island.”

  What had the captain done?

  Maude’s cousin returned with a plate of fish and potatoes. “Here ya go, sir.”

  Maria stood. “I best get back to work. Nice chatting with you.”

  “Thank you.” He set his napkin on his lap, inhaled the scent of onions and herbs that seasoned the fish, and took one bite. Delicious.

  Behind him, the café door was opened and then closed.

  “Maude!” the proprietress called out. “Jack�
�s rescuer is right there.”

  Ben removed the napkin from his lap and stood as Maude moved toward him. “Miss Welling.” The twinge in his side was nothing compared to the discomfort he had knowing she was associating with a man whom islanders were concerned about.

  “I’m just popping in for some coffee.”

  He assisted her into the chair that Maria had just vacated and then sat. “The coffee is very good. Strong.” Unlike the sludge he drank back at the newspaper.

  “Are you feeling better?” Her pretty features bunched in concern.

  He patted his pocket. “Dr. Cadotte’s prescription should help.”

  “You must be worse, then.” Her scolding tone was mild but effective.

  “Nein. The doctor said aches were part of the healing process.”

  Maria returned and poured a cup of coffee for Maude. “Some pie to go with that?”

  “No, thanks, Aunt Maria.”

  The restaurant owner pointed to Ben’s food. “Eat up before it gets cold, eh?”

  “Please do, Mr. König.” Maude nodded at him.

  “Ja.” He chuckled and then sampled the perfectly flaky fish.

  The young waitress returned and whispered into Maude’s ear until the island beauty pulled away and glared up at the girl. “You’d best not be spreading any rumors.”

  Turning toward Ben, Maude raised her eyes upward as the girl departed. “My cousin, Caroline, thinks you are very handsome, Mr. König.”

  He raised his napkin to his mouth and set it back down. “Is that all she said?”

  Maude blushed. “No.”

  “What does she say of Captain Swaine?”

  Her face crinkled in confusion. Ben’s cheeks heated. “Your uncle pointed him out to me, when the two of you were … in the street.”

  “Caroline would say he was old.” Maude laughed and poured cream from a tiny pitcher into her coffee and then added three cubes of sugar. “Robert’s health regimen has greatly improved his appearance, though.”

  Ben raised his eyebrows in question and sipped his black coffee.

  “I’d say he’s quite handsome.” A cloud suddenly passed over her face.

  “I’ve heard nothing but good things about him.”