Love Finds You in Mackinac Island, Michigan (29 page)

* * * * *

He didn’t believe Elena, couldn’t believe her. He knew that she had set her sights on marrying him. He knew that Mr. Bissette was interested in investing. He just didn’t know how exactly they’d accomplished the feat of trapping him.

How did they know he would be intrigued by her artwork? How did they even know he might go to the lighthouse?

Perhaps Parker Randolph had set him up, when he pointed out the lighthouse on the bluff.

He left Elena standing on the porch with her mother beside her. This time Mrs. Bissette told him to leave.

At least she wouldn’t be pushing him to marry her daughter anymore.

He rushed through the lobby and up the steps. His room was three doors down the hallway.

“Chester, wait!”

He turned to see Gracie Frederick holding up the folds of her yellow gown as she rushed after him. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to her—the woman who’d told him about Elena’s intentions.

He pointed toward the tall windows. “You’re missing the festivities, Miss Frederick.”

“I don’t care one bit about fireworks.”

Galileo barked from his room.

“You’ll have to excuse me.” He stepped toward the door. “I’m going to retire for the night.”

She eyed the door slyly. “Do you want company?”

He cringed at the blatancy of her offer. “I’d rather be alone.”

“I saw you with Elena Bissette.” She drew closer to him, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “She’s no good for you.”

He shook his head. “Please don’t presume to know what is good for me.”

Her smile grew bigger. “Oh, but I do know.”

“I’m going to take my leave—” He put his key into the door.

She stepped closer. “Elena is a master at manipulating people, just like her mother.”

“And I am a master at sorting out the truth.”

She leaned against his door, and it was clear in her eyes, in the tilt of her hips, that she desired more than conversation on the other side. He pushed open the door over her shoulder and scooted around her without a word.

“Chester,” she started, stepping into his room. Galileo growled at her, and she eyed the dog as if she were trying to determine whether he would bite her. Apparently she thought Galileo was serious in his intent, because she slowly backed out into the hall.

Chase locked the door without another word to her. Then he sank into a chair.

What was it with the society women on this island? When they vacated the city for the summer, they seemed to lose all sense of protocol and propriety. Not that he approved of all the intricacies of society’s rules, but downstairs was one woman sneaking to a lighthouse in the middle of the night without a chaperone, and in the hallway was another woman, proposing to escort him into the privacy of his bedchamber.

Not that Elena had proposed anything of the sort.

Galileo nosed his hand, and he petted him. His dog was usually an excellent judge of character. Why did he have to like Andy so much?

He leaned his head back against the chair, muttering to himself. “We both judged her wrongly.”

He didn’t want to stay in his room for the night, alone with his thoughts about Elena, but he waited for a good ten minutes before he cracked the door to make sure that Gracie Frederick was gone. The hallway was empty, so he and Galileo raced out the back door of the hotel and hiked quickly through the woods, away from Gracie and Elena and the others.

How did Elena know how much he liked the stars or even about Silas Hull’s fishing pole?

He had trusted Andy with his secrets. Not just with the telescope—he’d shared his heart with her too. If he lost the bid for the telescope, he would recover, but if he lost Andy—

He stopped and leaned against a tree. His heart fell.

There was no Andy.

Galileo barked, and he turned and trudged up the narrow trail until he was staring at the stones of the lighthouse.

He hadn’t been able to keep himself from dreaming about her, from dreaming about what life would be like with Andy at his side, but the facade was over. Elena had done what she’d intended. She’d hooked him and tried to reel him in, but he wasn’t a fish to be caught and filleted. He’d gotten away and would keep on swimming, upstream if necessary.

He opened the door and retrieved Elena’s drawings from where she’d hidden them.

How had she known these pictures would speak to him? That the picture of her on the beach would draw him to her like a moth to light?

He tossed the book onto the desk.

Either she was a master manipulator…or she was caught up in this web as well.

Maybe Aunt Lottie or even Sarah had told the Bissettes he liked art. He wouldn’t put it past his sister to pretend to dislike Elena, thinking it might make him like her even more.

Perhaps he would never be ready for marriage. If this was what love felt like, this miserable wrenching in his gut, then he didn’t want it at all.

He wanted to be left alone.

But he wasn’t alone. The memory of Elena lingered in the parlor and on every step that led to the top of the lighthouse. He could see Elena sitting at the desk, working on her sketches. If he dared to go up their stairs, he would see her in the broken glass panes above.

He slapped his fist on the desk, and Galileo yelped.

God help him, he had to get out of here.

Turning, he took a step toward the door but stopped. Picking up the sketchbook, he flipped through the pages until he found the picture of her walking on the beach with her hair blowing in the wind…and he tore it out.

He was a fool, that was for certain, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

* * * * *

Long after the orchestra stopped playing and the dancers stopped gliding across the floor, Mama sat down on the side of Elena’s bed, resting her hand on the mound of pillows around Elena.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

Elena bundled a pillow close to her chest. “Nothing.”

“Something must have happened between the two of you. I didn’t think you had met before.”

“I didn’t know it was him before…. We were confused.”

“You ran away, Elena. And then he chased you out the door. This is more than confused.”

“He was extremely rude.”

“Indeed.”

Elena buried her head in the pillow for a moment and then looked up again. “I didn’t know what to say.”

Chase had made himself perfectly clear. He thought she had tried to snag him like the other young women on the island, and the irony was that she had tried to catch him—just not in the way he thought. She hadn’t orchestrated their meeting at the lighthouse, but she would never be able to convince him of that. He’d already made up his mind.

She hadn’t orchestrated it, but there was that slimmest of possibilities—

She knew her father had nothing to do with their meeting, but if Chase was right, if her mother had somehow arranged all of this, Elena would find Jillian and sail far away from this island and its craziness.

She sat up and met her mother’s eyes. “Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That Mr. Darrington and I had met before.”

“Of course not, though the Lord knows and so do you that I tried my hardest to get the two of you together. You both kept disrupting my plans.”

It seemed the Lord had had another plan for them to meet, outside her mother’s control, but if that was so, why did it have to end like this? She’d seen the anger in Chase’s eyes…the disappointment. No matter what her mother said or did, Elena would do nothing to pursue him again, and she was certain he wouldn’t try to pursue her.

There were plenty of other wealthy bachelors in Chicago and Detroit. If her parents couldn’t find a man in either of those cities who was interested in marrying her, they could try Cleveland or Philadelphia or New York City. Her mother could pick a decent man from the flock and she’d marry him. She could never care for another man, not like she had Chase, but perhaps marriage would help to mend her heart.

“I thought—I didn’t know he was Mr. Darrington.”

“Who?”

“The man I met—”

Her mother hushed her. “You can’t marry a man who tried to deceive you.”

Her mind spun. Had he tried to deceive her? She wasn’t sure. He had told her his name, or his nickname, at least, even if he hadn’t said his last name. She was the one who had hidden her name.

“I don’t know if he meant to deceive me.”

“Well, he was certainly unkind to you.”

“But you want me to marry him, Mama.”

She shook her head. “There are other eligible men.”

Papa must not have told Mama yet that they were on the verge of losing their home in Chicago.

Her father walked into the room and leaned against one of the bedposts, compassion heavy in his voice. “How’s my little girl doing?”

“Not well.”

He sighed. “And Chase seemed to be such a nice chap.”

“He was a bit too dapper for me,” Mama replied. “There are other bachelors on the island, much nicer ones. The man she marries doesn’t have to be as rich as the Darringtons.”

“Deborah.” Papa turned to face her. “There will be no more talk about marrying in this house.”

“But—”

He shook his head. “Elena will let us know when she’s ready to marry.”

Elena wanted to applaud her father’s mandate, but she felt sick instead. How was she supposed to know when she was ready to marry another man? She didn’t want to marry anyone except Chase.

She fell back against the cushions. If only she could escape tonight…

But there was no place left for her to escape to.

The wind ruffled Elena’s walking gown as she gazed at the colorful window display of confectionaries at Murdick’s. Buckets of saltwater taffy, trays of hand-dipped chocolates, and mounds of fudge were displayed behind the glass.

After the week of parties, concerts, and a grand rowing regatta, the quietness on Main Street was almost eerie. Hooves of a horse clip-clopped behind her, pulling a wagon that coated the dusty streets with its barrel of water. The wind blew the water across the sidewalk, spraying the hem of her walking gown.

Days ago, the fort’s remaining soldiers paraded down this street while tourists and food vendors crowded the sidewalks. Hundreds of balloons were released into the sky, and the aroma of candied apples and caramel corn sweetened the air. But there was also a sense of sadness among the society mothers and their unmarried daughters during the week. Chase sailed away the morning after the ball, without a promise to call on any of the debutantes in the future or even to return to the island.

Now that Chase was gone, her mother stopped insisting that Elena stay caged at home all day. There were still the afternoon teas and social calls, but when Elena wasn’t visiting a neighbor, she was free to roam the village like she’d done when she was younger. Her mother seemed to have given up any hope that Elena would secure a husband over the summer.

No one except her parents and perhaps Mrs. Darrington had any notion that she and Chase had known each other outside society events. When she and Mama went calling, Elena had to endure endless discussion about whether or not Mr. Darrington would return, but her mother kept her promise and hadn’t mentioned again the possibility of her marrying Mr. Darrington or anyone else. For that, she was grateful.

She’d visited Jillian several times at the fort, but even when Elena tried to help, the general’s wife thought her visits distracted Jillian from the children. Elena understood, but she missed her friend.

A bell chimed when Elena opened the door to the candy shop, and it chimed again when she walked back outside with a half pound of chocolate fudge in a paper box. Opening the lid, she broke off a piece, and the buttery chocolate mixed with sugar and walnuts tasted heavenly. She eyed a bench to sit down and enjoy her treat, but she decided to walk instead, away from the village.

She missed her nighttime escapes to the lighthouse, but she didn’t want to return, knowing Chase would never come again. One time she’d started to go but turned around when she reached the trail. It didn’t feel right, enjoying God’s creation without Chase at her side.

She took another bite of fudge.

Instead of walking toward the East Bluff, she turned up the street by Fort Mackinac and began to climb the hill toward the white walls that protected the fort. At one time she had thought Chase an officer, until he had laughed at her. Now she could understand his laughter. He was Chester Darrington of S. P. Darrington & Company, quite above military service. How could she have missed the pride in his heart and words?

She should have run away the first time she saw Chase in the tower. If only he had told her that he was Chester Darrington, she would have stepped right back on the stage. She never should have allowed him to have a glimpse of all that was in her heart and then crush it. The pain was as real as any she’d ever felt before, except that no one could see the bruises.

Near the top of the hill Elena turned away from the fort, wandering left into the trees. She’d allowed Chase to become part of her refuge, part of her communion with God. But Claude had been right; she didn’t need to go to the lighthouse to talk to God. She’d done so every night during the past week on the back patio. He was there…and He was here right now, in the shadows of the sugar maple and wild cherry trees, in the knocking of the woodpeckers that echoed through the leaves. She could feel His peace filling her, and she was grateful for it.