by Lyn Gardner
Men and women looking to escape the horrors of the years spent in a Civil War began to make their way to Mackinac to lose themselves in its history, its rocky beaches, and its scenic beauty. Ten years after the end of the Civil War and three years after Yellowstone National Park was named the first national park in the United States, seventy-four percent of Mackinac Island was named the second.
Boat and railroad companies began building hotels, and souvenir shops sprung up, and those who could afford it began construction of the summer cottages that would eventually line the bluffs of the island. Business was booming, and more and more people were visiting, but fearing the newest of inventions, in 1896 the people of Mackinac made a decision. The Village Council and the Mackinac Island State Park Commission voted that except for a few emergency vehicles, the use of automobiles on the island would be banned. A ban that still stands today.
***
Whether it’s from an apartment, a condo, or a house, when someone moves, it usually involves either friends filling the trunks of their cars or beds of their trucks with everything you own, or moving vans driven by burly men who will eventually place your furniture wherever you’d like it. However, when a person moves to Mackinac Island, things are a little bit different.
Before leaving Florida, Robin had already arranged for long-term parking and a packet of ferry tickets, so her first stop that morning was to the dock station on the mainland in St. Ignace. She emptied the cargo hauler and the contents of her 4Runner onto a wheeled, aluminum cart and arranged for its delivery to Mackinac later that day. After that, she was off to the local U-Haul dealer to get rid of the annoyance she had towed for four days, and Robin ended her morning by walking up and down the aisles at Family Fare, filling not one, but two carts with everything she thought she’d need for the next few weeks.
Like most stores in the area, Family Fare was accustomed to making deliveries to the ferries for their customers, so after making those arrangements, and being assured her purchases would arrive on time, Robin was off to meet Howard Underhill. Shortly after noon, Robin climbed back into her SUV and returned to the hotel where she gathered her things and her cats before finally ending up back at the docks for the second time that day. So, as Robin made her way through the throng of tourists and dock porters, all she wanted was a nap…and a beer.
Robin stopped at the cart containing her belongings. Deciding what was essential and what could wait for another hour or two, with her laptop case draped over one shoulder, she slung a backpack over the other and then tugged a sizeable black suitcase from the pile. Listing slightly off her axis, she carried her luggage and the cat carrier over to a man holding a clipboard. “Excuse me. Can you help me?”
“What can I do for you, miss?” the man said.
“I was wondering how I can arrange to have my groceries delivered.”
It was an odd question for a tourist to ask, and Glen Ramon eyed Robin for a few seconds. “Groceries?” he said, slipping his pencil behind his ear. “Where are you staying?”
Robin took a moment to set everything at her feet before reaching into her pocket “Here,” she said, handing the man the Post-It Howard had given her.
As Glen Ramon read the address, the lines across his weathered forehead deepened. “This is the address for the Safe Harbor Inn.”
An image of the key fob popped into Robin’s head. “Yeah, that’s right.”
Glen let out a sigh and handed the note back to Robin. “I’m sorry, miss, but the Safe Harbor closed a few years—” The words died in Glen’s throat as he stared at the woman in front of him. There was something about her face that was eerily familiar. It wasn’t just the square jaw or the blue eyes or her sun-washed blonde hair, but when he noticed the sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of the woman’s nose, another woman came to mind, and his eyes flew open wide.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Glen said as he tossed his clipboard on a nearby box. “As I live and breathe!”
Before Robin could say a word, she found herself being hugged by the leathery-faced man. Her first instinct was to pull away, but when the smell of a familiar aftershave made its way to her, she relaxed and waited to be released.
After a moment or two, Glen took a step backward and held Robin at arm’s length. “You’re the spitting image of your mother.”
It was Robin’s turn to widen her eyes. “You knew my mother?”
“I’ve worked this dock for over thirty years and like clockwork, every summer and every winter, she’d come off that ferry like she didn’t have a care in the world. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but when I see a pretty lady like your mom, I don’t forget them too easily,” Glen said with a smile, but it slowly faded from his face. “I’m sorry. I heard she passed away.”
“Yes, she did,” Robin said, offering the man a weak grin. “A couple of years ago.”
“Well, her beauty won’t soon be forgotten with you around.”
“Thank you,” Robin said, the rosiness on her cheeks no longer being caused by the chilly air. “So, I guess that means you knew my aunt, too?”
“Of course. Everyone knows everyone on Mackinac,” Glen said. “Adele was quite a character. A little quiet, but she had a wit sharper than a razor blade. There weren’t many around here who didn’t cry when they found out she had passed, so you’ve been quite the talk of the town ever since we heard you were coming.”
“What?” Robin said, flinching back her head. “How did you know I was coming?”
“Let me give you a piece of advice,” Glen said, taking a step closer. “If you don’t want anyone to know what you’re doing or who you are, do not live on Mackinac.”
Robin’s face clouded with confusion and Glen chuckled. “You had the utilities turned on, and that lawyer…um…Mr. Underhill. He came here once or twice with some workers to make sure there were no problems with the plumbing or electricity at the Inn.”
“Oh, I see,” Robin said, smiling. “And word apparently travels fast.”
“Faster than a yacht in the Straits on a windy day.”
Just then a gust of wind came along, and Robin laughed as she combed her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“So, you mentioned you had groceries on board?”
“Yes, and I actually have quite a bit more luggage, but I couldn’t carry it all.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Glen said as he scanned the dock. “Zayne, can you come here for a minute.”
A boy Robin guessed to be in his late teens hurried over. “Yeah, Glen. What do you need?”
“Can you make a delivery to Safe Harbor?”
“Sure. I’ve just got to take that stuff to Bayview,” he said, pointing across the way to his overloaded bike. “After that, I’m free until the next ferry. What am I getting?”
“Groceries and some luggage that matches that,” Robin said, pointing to the suitcase at her feet. “They should all be tagged with the name Novak. Robin Novak.”
“All right. Cool,” Zayne said with a thumbs-up. “I’ll see you there in about an hour.”
“That’ll work,” Robin chirped. “Thanks!”
“My pleasure,” Zayne said, and flashing a quick smile, he hustled back to his bike.
“Well, now that that’s taken care of,” Glen said, turning back to Robin. “Is there anything else I can help—”
“Are you Robin Novak?”
Robin cringed. Glen scowled, and in unison, they turned to consider the man who had just interrupted their conversation with his nasally shrieked question.
“I’m sorry?” Robin said, looking down at the short, beak-nosed man.
“Geez,” Leo Valentine said, his eyes flicking toward the sky. “I said, are you Robin Novak?”
Robin suddenly remembered what Howard Underhill had said about his brother-in-law, and two and two equaled four. “You must be Leo.”
“The one and only,” Leo said, and grabbing Robin’s hand, h
e shook it as if trying to dislocate her shoulder. “Howie told me you’d be coming in on the one-thirty. I’ve got a taxi waiting.” Leo glanced at the luggage at Robin’s feet and quickly snatched up the backpack. “I’ll meet you at the taxi.”
Robin watched as the man waddled away, his open black trench coat flapping like wings on a bird unable to get itself off the ground.
“Well, that was interesting,” Robin said, turning back to Glen. She reached down and picked up the carrier, but when she went for the suitcase, Glen beat her to it.
“I’ll get this stuff,” he said, easily slinging the laptop case over his shoulder before picking up the suitcase. “Some of us were raised better.”
***
With her things safely strapped down in the back of Mackinac’s version of a taxi, Robin climbed into the red and yellow carriage and placed the cat carrier on the floor at her feet. The carriage dipped as Leo clambered in from the other side and plopped down on the bench seat, and a second later, it dipped again when the driver climbed into the front seat.
“So, where we going folks?” the man said, looking over his shoulder.
“To here,” Robin said, handing the man the Post-It.
“This is the Safe Harbor Inn.”
A wave of déjà vu washed over Robin, and she smiled. “That’s right. It belonged to my aunt.”
“Holy moly, you’re Adele’s niece,” the man shouted, and tugging off his gloves, he held out his hand. “Sheldon Graham.”
“Robin Novak,” Robin said, shaking the man’s hand. “You knew my aunt?”
“Sure as hell did,” Sheldon said as he let go of Robin’s hand. “Then again, everyone around here knew her. The island’s not that big.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“And rumor has it you inherited the Safe Harbor?”
Leo hated favors. He had no problem asking for them, but when it came to paying them back, that was another story. It didn’t matter he had met a client earlier on Mackinac, a wannabe islander frothing at the mouth to buy a house they couldn’t afford. What mattered was that Leo wanted to be home in his slippers and comfy clothes, waiting for the dinner his wife would be fixing. It was Friday. That meant chicken and dumplings, and Leo loved chicken and dumplings, but there was one thing Leo loved even more. Money.
When Leo heard what Sheldon said, his ears matched those of a Doberman. Leo was all too familiar with the Safe Harbor Inn. A few years earlier when he heard Adele had fallen ill, he had made a special trip to Mackinac only to have Adele throw him out on his ear. Adele was a plucky old broad who refused to even listen to his sales pitch, but as he slyly glanced in Robin’s direction and took note of her blonde hair, Leo made a judgment based on a myth. This was going to be a piece of cake.
“Hey, buddy, how about you do your job and let the little lady and I talk?” Leo snapped as he pointed down the street. “I believe it’s that way.”
Sheldon raised an eyebrow and giving Robin a nod, he turned back to the horses. With a click of his tongue and a flick of the reins, the two magnificent Percherons began to clip-clop their way through town.
Robin rested back in the seat as the carriage began to move, but before she could appreciate the hustle and bustle of a Mackinac day, Leo chimed in.
“So, before you can put the place on the market, you’ll need to have an estate sale, and I’m an expert at those.”
“Excuse me?” Robin said, swiveling on the seat.
Leo sucked in his cheeks and rolled his eyes. Reaching into the inside pocket of his coat, he pulled out a business card. “I’m a realtor, and I’ve been through this a dozen times. The first thing we need to do is have an estate sale. It’s easy, trust me. You just place a couple of ads in the newspapers and put some notices up in the supermarkets. People love old stuff, so we can probably have the place emptied in a weekend.”
Robin stared at the card Leo had forced into her hand. “What makes you think I want to sell?”
“Are you kidding me?” Leo said, following it with a loud guffaw. “Look around you. You really want to smell horse poopy all the live long day?”
It was hard not to notice the smell. As soon as Robin got off the ferry, the aroma wafted into her senses, but other than the initial shock of it, it hadn’t really bothered her.
“It’s not that bad.”
“You say that now, but wait until the season starts,” Leo said with a snicker. “And don’t forget about the tourists. Come May, this place will be crawling with them. It’s going to be noisy and busy, and there are going to be so many bikes and carriages, you won’t be able to spit without hitting one of them.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to try not to spit then,” Robin said, handing him back his card.
Leo pushed the card back into Robin’s hand. “Trust me, you’re going to change your mind, especially if you plan to stay the winter,” he said with a cold, humorless laugh. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”
“Maybe not, but I guess I’m going to find out,” Robin said, turning in her seat. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to take in the view.”
“Why bother?” Leo said, and slouching on the bench, he crossed his arms. “It’s not like it ever changes.”
Robin refused to let Leo’s brashness get in the way of her first day on the island, but when she returned her attention to the town, she realized it was already behind her. The horses guided the carriage around a turn, and with Leo sitting on her right, blocking her view of the homes lining the street, Robin looked to the left. She smiled as they passed the small building deemed the Public Library, wondering if any of her books sat on its shelves, but no sooner had the thought entered her mind when it was swept away as the Straits came into view. The water shimmered in the brilliance of the September day, and gulls plunged and swooped above the water, hunting for their lunch. Small waves lapped against the shore, but unlike the beaches she was used to, the one surrounding Mackinac was covered with rocks and stones. Entranced by the view, Robin sat mesmerized until the carriage was no longer moving.
“Why’d we stop?” she said, turning to Leo.
“Because we’re here,” he said, motioning with his head.
Robin looked past Leo, and at first, all she could see was a low wall of brick running parallel to the sidewalk. With the fringed fabric top of the carriage blocking her view, Robin slowly leaned forward, and as she did, she saw atop the brick was a short, white picket fence. She followed it with her eyes until she noticed a gated opening down on the left, and inside was a brick path leading to a set of stairs covered in blue indoor-outdoor carpeting. White, wooden handrails flanked the stairs, and at the top of the eight steps was a porch, and except for the several rounded columns supporting the roof, its balustrade system matched that on the stairs.
“What the heck?” Robin said under her breath, but unable to bend any further as her chest was now pressed against her lap, she hopped out of the carriage. Walking around the back of it, she looked up and up...and up.
Chapter Four
When the first homes were built on Mackinac, they were simple cabins used to house the missionaries and fisherman who called the island their home, but as the well-to-do began traveling to Mackinac, cottages were soon being erected.
At first, they were unadorned, modest homes where those slightly more fortunate could retreat for the summer. Little rectangles and squares, they dotted the town and hills sparingly; however, in the early 1880s, things began to change. The affluent, influenced by the resurgence of the Gothic Revival, started building houses far more substantial. Porches wrapped around the spacious two and three-story homes, roofs became steeply-pitched, and the dormers and eaves were decorated with scrollwork and gingerbread.
In 1886, recognizing the little island’s appeal, a steamship company joined forces with two railroad companies to form the Mackinac Island Hotel Company. They purchased a piece of land on the West Bluff, and had constructed what, to this day, is the most notable and recognizable
piece of architecture on the island. It took almost six hundred workers to build the wood-framed, two-hundred room structure…and they did it in only ninety-three days.
In July of 1887, the Grand Hotel opened its doors. It offered not only comfort but a six hundred sixty foot front porch which would eventually be deemed the longest in the world. In no time at all, tycoons of railways and barons of lumber were not the only ones flocking to the island. Notables such as Thomas Edison and Mark Twain were frequent guests at the hotel, and in future years, the likes of Truman, Kennedy, Ford, Bush, and Clinton would also make the trip. Not quite one hundred years after it was completed, the illustrious hotel would become the backdrop for the movie Somewhere in Time, and in 1989, it would be deemed a National Historic Landmark.
Around the same time as the Grand Hotel was welcoming its first guests, the new homes erected on Mackinac changed again. With the popularity of Victorian Queen Anne architecture in its heyday, two stories became three, and the simplistic gave way to picturesque castles of wood with turrets and sweeping verandas. Windows throughout the new homes now varied in size, and the colors used on the exteriors were rich and vibrant.
Lyman Majors was one of several who had made his fortune off the forests of Michigan during the nineteenth century. Its expanse of timber so large, the millionaires created during California’s Gold Rush paled in comparison to those born from the Michigan woodlands. Trees of white pine, three hundred years old and two hundred feet high were felled, and by the end of the Civil War, the state of Michigan had produced more lumber and more millionaires than any other state in the Union.
