by Jeff Adams
Somewhere on Mackinac
By Jeff Adams
How far would you go for the man of your dreams?
Now that he’s single, Chicago businessman Jordan Monroe can finally take his long-desired trip to Mackinac Island for the Somewhere In Time fan celebration weekend. On the first day, Jordan finds himself attracted to Miles Colter, a handsome local stable owner who is giving horseback tours of film locations.
Jordan is surprised and charmed that Miles pursues him. When Jordan learns the stable is in trouble, he wants to help despite Miles’s resistance. As their relationship grows personally and professionally, Jordan dreads the issues that face them—an ex who won’t let him go, the complications of a long-distance relationship, and a secret he knows he shouldn’t be keeping.
Can Jordan and Miles find a way to forge a love as timeless as the romance in their favorite film?
States of Love: Stories of romance that span every corner of the United States.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
More from Jeff Adams
About the Author
By Jeff Adams
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Copyright
Acknowledgments
I HAVE to start by thanking Dreamspinner for coming up with the States of Love idea. I’m happy I got to claim my home state. Readers who know my writing might be surprised that I didn’t set this in Detroit and center it around the Red Wings or make this about hockey (don’t worry, there is a reference to the sport in here). But the chance to write about Mackinac Island was too powerful to ignore.
I have vivid childhood memories of going up to Mackinac with my mom and grandfather, riding in his four-seater Cessna plane and landing on the Island to spend the day. I was enamored of the horses on the streets, the buildings (which were nothing like we had in Flint) and the amazing fudge. In later life, one of the reasons I fell in love with the film Somewhere in Time was because the majority of it was set on Mackinac. I had a great time using both the island and the film to create this story of two men finding love.
To the readers who’ve seen Somewhere in Time, I hope you enjoy this book, which, in some ways, is a love letter to the film. Be advised that if you haven’t seen it, there are spoilers ahead. However, don’t let that detract you from giving the movie a try. I admit that it’s not for everyone, but it’s worth giving a shot for Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour if nothing else.
Thanks to the crew who helped me with this story. My husband, Will, is always a great collaborator and reader. He provided ideas on how to make this better and I thank him for that. My writing group—Aaron, Brian, Chris, and Elvis—offered valuable feedback on a couple of early chapters. The Dreamspinner editors have been tremendous to work with. Tricia, Victoria, Kristin, and Jason each taught me something about my writing and made suggestions that strengthened the story.
Chapter One
LEAVE IT to Drake to make the start of vacation annoying.
“Come on, Jordan, how could you just go solo?” Drake’s voice boomed through the car’s speakers. “How’s it going to look to our colleagues that you’ve gone off to a romance weekend on your own?”
Unbelievable. He hadn’t wanted me to go on this trip last year when we were a couple, and he was still trying to spoil it.
I clicked the controls on the steering wheel to lower the volume. His agitated voice was a stark contrast to the calm, peaceful, rural landscape of Michigan. It was a perfect fall day and ideal for driving the Mackinaw Trail, also known by its far less sexy name of US 131. Until the phone call, I’d been cruising along and enjoying the farmland, mostly bare trees, and lack of traffic.
Five hours north of Chicago and everything was perfect—at least until Drake had called and interrupted my music shuffle of love songs. I should’ve sent the call to voice mail.
“Why do you care?” I forced myself to be calm since I wasn’t interested in playing the game where he expected everyone to match his level of distress. It was one of the reasons I’d broken it off with him. His ongoing need for drama wore me out. I was still connected to him because of business ties, though. Drake’s firm and mine shared several clients and often made referrals to each other.
“Sometimes I don’t understand you,” he said, exasperated.
That wasn’t an answer. He used one of his go-to phrases for getting people to feel bad about their choices.
“The feeling’s mutual,” I muttered, not caring if he heard.
“When will you be back?”
“Tuesday, maybe Wednesday.”
Silence.
“The Cooper dinner is Monday night.”
“Yeah, and Alberto has that covered.”
“Our firms bought the table together. We can’t have an empty chair. And you’re one of the partners.”
“Alberto has someone for my chair too.” Annoyance crept into my voice. “This trip has been on my calendar since right after you bailed on it last year.”
“I’ll come up with an excuse.” He sounded even more annoyed. In a weird way, he seemed to enjoy being upset.
“That’s not your place. Alberto will speak for me and the firm.”
“There’s no way we can tell people you’ve gone off to an island to celebrate some sappy movie.” He ignored what I said.
“Tell them whatever you want.” My thumb played over the disconnect button. I needed to get back to enjoying the drive and my playlist. “I gotta go.”
“Jord—”
I hung up.
I’d heard about the Somewhere in Time weekend at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island three years ago. It was mentioned in the extras on the collector’s edition DVD. It sounded incredible—staying at the Grand where the movie had been filmed, tours of the locations, panels with some of the stars and filmmakers, a gala costume ball, horse-and-buggy rides, and more. It was the perfect opportunity to geek out on one of my favorite films.
The Grand Hotel looked like a gorgeous place to spend a few days. To add to the charm, it was on an island in the middle of the Michigan straits. You could only get to Mackinac by ferry or small plane. No cars were allowed, despite what the movie showed, and the setting was idyllic. To this day the island looked like something out of the past.
I was staying past the film festivities for the Grand’s end-of-season closing ceremony. I’d read about the ceremony and decided it’d be cool to be part of that too.
I’d fallen hard for the 1980 film when I’d seen it in ’96. I’d been home, sick from school and channel surfing, when I’d come across it. Christopher Reeve was a major crush for me and he’d drawn me into the movie. I’d loved him in the first two Superman movies. Deathtrap was incredible and where my crush had formed.
Somewhere in Time had seemed kinda hokey at first—the idea of time traveling with your mind seemed silly. But the sheer romance of going back to find your true love had swept me away. By the end of the movie, I’d been sobbing because he’d died of a broken heart.
I’d liked the film the first time I’d watch
ed it, but it was the second viewing that had started my obsession. At the start of the film, Elise walked up to Richard in present day 1980, said “Come back to me,” and left him a pocket watch. He had no clue about her because he hadn’t time traveled yet. It was one of the most powerful things I’d seen in a movie. For her, Richard’s love lasted forever.
It was hard to explain to people why I like this movie. Even more difficult was discussing the plot with anyone who hadn’t seen it. People can have a hard time with time travel and romance together. It worked for this movie, though.
After Richard got the watch, he was haunted by the woman who gave it to him. Eventually, he discovered she was an actress from 1912. As he learned more, he was possessed to get to her. Reading about a theoretical way to travel back in time using the power of the mind and hypnosis was the answer.
I’ve been a romantic ever since that movie, and those stories became my go-to for movies or books. Somewhere in Time spoke to me about finding your one true love and how that was timeless. I wanted to feel all the emotions that flooded me when I watched the movie—the hope as Richard met Elise the first time, the spark they shared dancing, their growing attraction, and immense happiness with each other. I didn’t want the crushing heartbreak they had, but it showed me how intense their bond was. That was the heart of the story.
Even at sixteen I knew I wanted a love like that. I’d had four serious boyfriends since then, and none of them had been that love. I’d met Drake at a reception for a mutual business contact. It seemed we’d had a lot in common and the first five or six months were great. There was lots of romance and wooing on both sides. I was happy.
But after that it felt more like we were settling into a business partnership than a romance. I worked at fixing our relationship as much as I could, but sometimes the status quo won out. Over time it became clear that Drake was interested in getting ahead and appearances more than anything else. While I was usually willing to go along with what he wanted to do to help keep the peace, he was less amenable.
I shook my head vigorously. Fixating on where Drake and I went wrong wasn’t going to accomplish anything. I was on my way to a fabulous weekend, which I hoped would help me rekindle my desire for romance. Drake and I broke up after weeks of fighting, and since then I’d been skittish about starting anything. I didn’t expect to find love this weekend, but I hoped it would at least get me ready to start dating again.
In some ways the movie is so simple, if you look past the time travel. Two people drawn together for reasons they don’t even understand. They pushed back against those keeping them apart and formed a bond for all time. I wanted that when I was sixteen. Now that I was closer to forty, I wanted it even more—the romance, a soul mate, maybe a family.
I clicked the voice dial on the wheel.
“Call Alberto.”
“Calling Alberto Belasco,” the voice responded.
“Please tell me you’re not still in the city,” Alberto said, in lieu of a greeting.
“Nope. Left early this morning.”
“Excellent.”
Alberto was my best friend and business partner. We’d met while we were in business school, working on our MBAs. A group project bonded us, and while we’d worked separately for a few years after graduation, we’d finally formed our own business-consulting firm four years ago. Belasco & Monroe had a good reputation, and we had a waiting list of clients who wanted to work with us.
“So what brings this call on your vacation?”
“Drake was being a dick and I wanted to vent before I finished the drive.”
I spelled out the conversation I’d had just minutes before.
“You know I’ve got the Cooper dinner covered, right?”
“I have complete faith. You know how he gets caught up on things that don’t matter.”
“I think he sees it as a chance to maybe woo you back. You guys met at a business gig after all.”
“Really? He’s been seeing other guys. Why would he be trying to get me back after six months?”
“Having seen the seating chart for our table, I know he’s not bringing anyone. Despite your troubles, I’d say he’s fixated.”
“Oh, good.” Sarcasm spilled out as I rolled my eyes.
“Let it go, man. You’re on vacation. It’s gonna be great, and when you get back, you’ll be relaxed and ready to get out there again.”
“Hopefully it’ll be that easy.”
Alberto gave a “huh-uh” with some attitude that made me smile.
“Listen, would you mind if I turned the phone off when I get to the island? I can’t have it out during events since the organizers are trying to keep an authentic feeling to the weekend and neither 1980 nor 1912 had iPhones. Plus, I don’t want to leave myself open for other annoying phone calls.”
“Not at all,” Alberto said. “I can’t imagine I’ll need to track you down over the next few days. If I do, I can go old-school, call the hotel, and leave you a very quaint message.”
We laughed. Alberto’s sense of humor was one of the reasons he was such a great friend and business partner. Few things stressed him out.
“Thanks,” I said.
“But, if you decide to time travel, let me know so I don’t wonder where you are next week.”
“Deal. You’ll be the first to know.”
“And I’ll remind you not to travel with any rogue pennies.”
“I would hope so.”
His laughter put me in exactly the mindset I needed—carefree.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m hanging up and you’re turning the phone off.”
“Later, man.”
I disconnected the call and was happy to put aside that aspect of the modern world.
Chapter Two
TO GET to the island, I’d decided to take the ferry from St. Ignace because I wanted to go over the bridge. Five miles of span connecting the upper and lower peninsulas. It was a beautiful fall day with just a few wispy clouds scattered across the sky. The sun shining turned the waters of Lake Michigan and Lake Huron a gorgeous blue that sparkled.
Going over the bridge was exhilarating, and more than a little scary. I’d never been on such a long bridge. Pain shot through my hands because of how tightly I gripped the steering wheel as I drove. I’d read that if it was gusty, the bridge could sway. I appreciated that the wind was light because I didn’t need swaying on my first, already nerve-racking, crossing.
As I drove off the bridge, I laughed at myself and my apprehension eased. It’d been an easy drive and yet I tensed up like it was the scariest thing ever. Sometimes I wondered why my brain reacted like it did. I’d wanted to drive over the bridge and I’d enjoyed it, but, man, I got riled up doing it.
The sixteen minutes on the ferry was a stark contrast to the bridge. Even though it was chilly, I stood on deck to watch the island approach. It was the perfect transition from mainland to island. As we cut across the lake, the island’s trees were visible. Horses and bikes traveling the road that ran along the island’s edge came into view as we got closer.
I relaxed against the railing on the side of the boat with several other travelers. Many were below in the enclosed cabin, but I had more than a dozen people on deck with me. I knew that arriving a day early was the right choice so I could explore on my own before the activities started.
Eventually the small city became visible with houses and other buildings appearing ahead. I drew in a deep breath of clean, cool air and shuddered—not from the cold but because of the sheer satisfaction. I loved fall air, but this was probably as pure as it got.
Once the ferry swung around the southern end of the island, the true expanse was visible with piers and buildings crowding the shore. The mix of architecture styles was of a different time. I recognized many of the buildings were Shingle Style, which was supposed to be most prevalent on the island. I spotted several Greek Revivals and Colonials as well. I’d enjoyed the art and architecture appreciation classes I’d taken in coll
ege, and seeing these marvelous structures was inspiring.
As we disembarked, I only had my messenger bag with me. My luggage was tagged to go on to the hotel. I hung back and watched people leave instead of bustling off in the crowd. Once I got on to the pier, though, I’d never seen so many bicycles in one place. You could rent them as soon as you stepped off the boat, while others were locked up, waiting for their owners to return. This was the kind of parking lot you ended up with when there were no cars. I loved it. It spoke about the lifestyle the islanders had.
A few of the people I disembarked with went for bicycles. Some people simply left on foot for their destination. Others headed for the horse-drawn buggies standing by. I spotted one from the Grand Hotel and went there. Again, I shook with anticipation. First time in a horse-drawn carriage and I was giddy. Two horses stood at the ready as a man dressed in a black tux and top hat helped a family into the rear of the carriage. It didn’t seem possible, but the carriage looked like it could be from a hundred years ago.
There were only four other people in the carriage, and we took off for the hotel. I didn’t know where to look because I wanted to see everything—from the trees, to the lake, to bicycles and carriages sharing the road, and all the surroundings.
As we approached the hotel, I pressed my face against the window. It looked just like it had in the movie. Despite more than thirty-five years passing since the film was shot, the hotel had barely changed. I knew that’d be the case from seeing the hotel’s website, but seeing it in person gave me goose bumps. It was silly. It was just a building, but it was a thrill to see a place I’d been familiar with for nearly half my life. An unexpected rush of emotions hit me and I struggled for a moment to keep myself in check. I hadn’t expected this to overwhelm me like that. I enjoyed it, though—it told me I needed to be here for this.
“Is this your first time here?” asked the woman sitting across from me.
I pulled back from the window, realizing I must have looked like a child. Embarrassing! I hadn’t acknowledged my travel companions. I’d been too busy gawking at everything.
