Love Finds You in Mackinac Island, Michigan (35 page)

Sarah twirled a cinnamon stick in her sorbet. “I believe we are better entertainment than the orchestra.”

Elena lifted her glass of bubbly mineral water in a salute. “We’re certainly having more fun.”

Mama and Lydia laughed.

“They will have to start charging an admission fee to watch us play,” Mama said.

“I need to finish packing.” Sarah took her last bite of sorbet and pushed back her chair, glancing at Mama and then Elena. “I’m going to miss all of you.”

The tears in Sarah’s eyes surprised Elena. How they could be friends, after all that had happened between them, was yet another miracle.

As Sarah walked toward the lobby, Elena scanned the patio and saw the Frederick family, Mr. and Mrs. Frederick dining with their two sons. Mrs. Frederick’s arms were like spindly tree limbs growing through the billowing sleeves of her canary-yellow dress.

When had she lost so much weight?

“Mama,” Elena said, elbowing her mother.

Her mother turned to see Mrs. Frederick, and Lydia’s gaze followed. Mama looked back at Lydia. “She looks terrible.”

Lydia lifted her iced tea and took a long drink, as if she were teetering between forgiveness and clinging to her bitterness. “Perhaps she should join us for dessert.”

“Thank you,” Mama said as she scooted back her chair.

In that moment, Elena had never been prouder of her mother.

The news of Gracie Frederick’s running off with Edward had trumped the gossip about what he had tried to do to Elena, but she hadn’t heard Mama talk ill about what Gracie had done, not even once. And now instead of gossiping about the Fredericks, she had gone to talk with Mrs. Frederick. Perhaps if any good were to come out of what happened with Edward, it would unite people—like her and Sarah—who might otherwise have remained divided.

Except for Chase. He chose to separate himself.

Mama pulled out a chair for Mrs. Frederick, and the woman placed her glass of wine on the table before she sat. Long shadows dipped under her eyes.

“My husband and boys—” she began. “He is taking them fishing for the afternoon.”

Elena nodded. “I’m glad you can join us.”

“Have you heard from your daughter?” Lydia asked.

Mrs. Frederick stared at the red liquid in her glass. “I received a letter from her yesterday.”

Lydia set down her tea. “Oh?”

“She said they are in Toronto.”

She didn’t mentioned Edward’s name, perhaps out of respect for Lydia or perhaps out of respect for her daughter. They all knew she’d left with him; they didn’t need to know anything else.

Lydia turned the glass. “I hope she is well.”

“As well as to be expected, I suppose.” Mrs. Frederick managed a tight smile. “She said they would summer here with us, next year.”

The moment the words came from her mouth, Mrs. Frederick looked mortified. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted as she stood up, looking as though she might run. “He’s still married, to your dau—”

Lydia stopped her. “Sit down, Elizabeth.”

Mrs. Frederick sat faster than Galileo at the command of his master.

Lydia’s eyes softened. “I’m glad your daughter is safe.”

“I hope she is.”

“Sarah will get the divorce if Edward doesn’t.”

Mrs. Frederick smoothed back her hair, as if the straightening of her appearance would somehow repair the mess inside of her. “It’s a terrible state of affairs.”

“Elizabeth.” Lydia leaned forward. “I have a very important question for you.”

Mrs. Frederick looked terrified. “What is it?”

“Do you know how to play lawn tennis?”

Lovers promenaded hand in hand on the walk around Lake Michigan’s shore. People rode their bicycles, and children licked all manner of flavored ice cream from cones.

Chase maneuvered around a couple laughing quietly together, trying to clear his mind with a walk, but Elena seemed to haunt him wherever he went. Another couple embraced near the railing, and he looked away. Other people found love in their lifetime. Why couldn’t he?

Someday, perhaps, he would meet a woman he longed to be with as much as he wanted to be with Elena. A woman who wanted to be with him as well. If only Elena had been a governess or even a housemaid. If only she hadn’t known who he was…

Elena would be back in Chicago in four weeks, her father said—but Chase would be gone, back to Detroit, by then. He would begin working on a new project while Arthur oversaw the production of the telescopes. Richard had a list of things he wanted Chase to test, a number of people to meet, but Chase seemed to have lost his enthusiasm for his work. Another financier had won the bid to invest in the dish-washing machine that had once intrigued him, but he didn’t even care.

Richard was right. He felt miserable, and it was rubbing off on all those around him.

He wandered down the walk until he arrived at a restaurant near the pier. Aunt Lottie was waiting inside, her lips rosy with salve. She was ten years his mother’s senior, but she never seemed to age.

He kissed her cheek before he sat across from her at the table.

“You look tired,” she informed him before she took a bite of her peach pie.

He raked his hands through his hair. “I’ve been busy working.”

She tsked. “You and your father are just alike, always working. How long have you been in Chicago?”

“Almost three weeks now.” Not including his trip back to Mackinac.

“And in three weeks you couldn’t find the time to come see me?” She stirred cream into her coffee. “Did you meet my friends on Mackinac, the Bissette family?”

“You know everyone in Chicago, Aunt Lottie.”

The steward poured coffee into a cup for him. “But I wanted you to meet the Bissettes in particular.”

He sighed. “I made their acquaintance.”

“They’re a fine family. The daughter is quite the belle of Chicago.”

“I can see why.”

“I like Miss Bissette.” Lottie sipped her coffee. “I admit, I was hoping you’d like her too.”

He choked on the coffee and put it down.

“There, there,” she said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. Just took too big of a sip.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin. This was the exact reason he hadn’t scheduled a visit with Aunt Lottie before now. He thought he was ready to talk about Elena, but apparently he wasn’t.

“I was actually hoping you might help me find someone.”

She sipped her coffee again. “Who is it you’re trying to find?”

“I found an old diary on Mackinac. It’s a story without an ending.”

“Fascinating,” she said, before she took another bite of her pie.

“I want to track down the writer of the diary and her descendants, to see what happened to them.”

Aunt Lottie looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“For a friend,” he clarified.

“I have a close friend whose husband owns a detective agency.” She picked up another piece of pie with her fork. “He might be able to help.”

“Thank you, Aunt Lottie.”

He leaned back on the chair, hoping he could do this one last thing for Elena…and for Claude. She wouldn’t even have to know who instigated it.

* * * * *

A four-year-old girl spun a top back and forth across the room while Elena played blocks on the floor with a little boy. Four mattresses were propped up against the wall with two more children bouncing on a fifth mattress as Jillian fed the baby her bottle. The general and his wife had escaped to dinner in the village for the evening, and they had allowed Elena to come and help her for an hour.

Jillian laughed as Elena told her about their lawn tennis games—how ridiculous the women had looked on the court and yet the fun they’d had. Their game had ended abruptly with a swollen ankle for Lydia and a bruised pinky for Mama when Lydia ran to hit a ball and tripped. That was the exact reason, Mama had informed Leonard, that a lady must never return a ball. The hotel boys were there to return the balls for them.

Still, there was talk of playing again next year, if the Bissettes returned to the island.

“Are you happy here?” Elena asked her friend.

Jillian looked at the baby in her arms and wiggled one of her toes. “For now.”

Elena set another block on the tower and it toppled down. She thought the boy might cry, but he cheered instead. “Again!” he demanded.

As she helped the child build the tower once more, she marveled. Not only did God create the majesty in the skies, but every single day, He created on the earth, forming children like this one in their mother’s womb. Each of the children in this family looked different. Each was a unique creation of His.

She set down another block. “Has Parker been back to visit you?”

Jillian shook her head.

“I’m sorry.”

Jillian lifted the baby to her chest to burp her. “It’s all right, Elena. I’m content.”

“But still—”

Jillian interrupted. “Have you heard from Mr. Darrington?”

“I won’t hear anything from him.”

“I don’t understand,” Jillian said. “He loved you, Elena. It was as plain as the stars in the sky.”

If only she and Chase could go back in time. If only they could keep pretending that her name was Andy and that he was a soldier at Fort Mackinac. But her secrets—and his obstinance—had ruined it.

“You can’t always see the stars as clearly as you’d like, not with the clouds in the way.”

“He was kind to both Silas and me, and he made sure I found a good position.”

Someone knocked on the door, and the sound relieved Elena. She didn’t want to hear about Chase’s kindness.

“Could you get that?” Jillian asked.

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?”