A Surrendered Heart

by Tracie Peterson

  The winds briefly subsided, and Ellert felt a wooden object hit his hand. “Use this and start bailing water out of the boat,” Jonas hollered.

  Ellert clutched the bucket in one hand while continuing to maintain a hold on his seat with the other. The rising water had reached his ankles, and he cursed the ruination of his expensive shoes.

  “I’d be worried about more than my shoes if I were you,” Jonas shouted in reply. “This storm is besting me, and you’re no help.”

  “You’re the one who said you could handle a boat in any weather,” Ellert screamed. “Now I see that you are an incompetent fool in more than business matters.”

  Jonas heaved the oars but made no headway in the churning waves. “This has nothing to do with incompetence, Ellert. I believe this is God’s retribution upon both of us for the wrongs we’ve committed.”

  Though Ellert wanted to tell Jonas he was a fool, there wasn’t opportunity. The wind regained its fury, and a massive wave whipped the boat onto its side and the men into a swirling caldron of angry water. Waves and rain lashed Ellert from all sides. He grabbed for Jonas but couldn’t reach him. Clinging to the side of the skiff, he gasped for air as the wind ripped the wooden support from his hands. Amid the crushing waves, he thrashed at the water and fought to remain afloat. He must breathe. He must live. Amanda was waiting for him.

  28

  Sunday, August 20, 1899

  Broadmoor Island

  Early the next morning, bright shards of sunshine splayed across the carpeted bedroom. A splinter of light danced across Amanda’s fingers and settled on the shiny rings that now adorned her left hand. One glimpse and she sat upright in her bed. The wedding hadn’t been a bad dream. She was truly married to Ellert Jackson. With a slight jerk she checked the opposite side of the bed. The covers remained undisturbed. Ellert hadn’t come to her during the night. Had he returned late and gone to one of the upstairs bedrooms so as not to disturb her? Not likely.

  Throwing back the covers, she slid her feet into a pair of soft slippers and padded across the room. Quietly turning the knob, she opened the door and peeked down the hallway. All was quiet. Not surprising considering the excitement of yesterday’s festivities and the storm that had continued throughout most of the night. Her nieces and nephews had likely been unable to sleep. After retrieving her robe, Amanda tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen.

  Mrs. Atwell looked up from the flour-sprinkled board where she was preparing morning biscuits. “Good morning, my dear. I trust you had a pleasant night.”

  “I slept well, thank you, but I was wondering if you’ve seen my father or Mr. Jackson this morning.”

  The older woman removed the lump of dough from the crock and shaped it into a circle. “No. You’re the first family member I’ve seen today. I suppose you’re anxious to begin your wedding trip to Europe. Fanny mentioned you’d be taking the train to New York City and then sailing for a month-long tour. Sounds as though you’ll have a lovely time.” Using her forearm, Mrs. Atwell brushed a strand of gray hair from her forehead. “Veda said she finished packing your trunks last night, so you have nothing to worry about. There’s plenty of time for a good breakfast before you and Mr. Jackson depart for the train station in Clayton.”

  Amanda didn’t argue. “I’m going back upstairs, Mrs. Atwell. If Mr. Jackson should appear, would you tell him I’d like a word?”

  “Of course, my dear. You go on up and get dressed. Breakfast will be ready when you are.”

  Amanda didn’t take time to explain that locating Ellert and her father was of greater import than eating breakfast. She rushed up two flights of stairs and down the hallway to her parents’ bedroom.

  After tapping on the door and receiving no response, she turned the knob and entered the sitting room. “Mother, may I come in?”

  The swish of bedcovers in the adjacent room was followed by her mother’s muffled permission. “Goodness, what time is it? I must have overslept. Why didn’t Minnie waken me?”

  “It’s not yet eight o’clock.”

  Concern shone in her mother’s eyes. “I do hope your wedding night wasn’t dreadful.” She glanced at the other side of the bed and suddenly appeared wide awake. “Your father must not have come home.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I’ve not seen Ellert since we left Round Island yesterday. Do you think he and Father decided to remain at the Frontenac Hotel and wait out the storm?”

  “That must be exactly what happened. We need to hurry and dress. We can have Mr. Atwell take us to Round Island and join your father and Mr. Jackson there. Then the two of you can go directly to Clayton.”

  Her mother rang for Minnie before she hurried across the room and pulled open the door of the wardrobe. “Let me see, what shall I wear?” She glanced over her shoulder and motioned toward the door. “Hurry along, Amanda, or you’ll miss the train in Clayton. From what you’ve told me of Mr. Jackson, I doubt he’ll be happy if that should occur.”

  Her mother was correct. She didn’t want to suffer Ellert’s wrath. He’d do more than pinch her cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs as soon as I’m dressed.”

  “I’ll send Veda to assist you.”

  Before nine o’clock Amanda was dressed and downstairs, her trunks had been loaded onto the DaisyBee, and Mr. Atwell was waiting at the dock. Both Fanny and Sophie had joined her to bid their final farewells.

  Upon receiving the news that Ellert hadn’t returned to Broadmoor Island the previous night, Sophie grinned. “At least you were given a small reprieve. I do wish we could go with you, but I don’t think either our husbands or Ellert would grant us permission.”

  Fanny giggled. “When has a lack of your husband’s permission ever stopped you?”

  Sophie folded her arms across her waist and tipped her head to the side. “Paul will tell you that I have become a comforting and dutiful wife. I’m doing my best to show him how much I love him.”

  Amanda leaned forward and kissed Sophie’s cheek. “I’m very proud of the changes you’re making. Paul’s a wonderful man. And so is Michael,” she quickly added. “Both of you are most fortunate, and I pray that God will continue to bless your marriages.” She swallowed hard to keep her emotions in check. She didn’t want a tearful final good-bye. “Pray that Ellert will permit me the opportunity to come home for a visit very soon. If I don’t—”

  “Come along, Amanda. We don’t have time to tarry,” her mother said as she descended the stairs. “I trust Mr. Atwell is waiting for us.”

  “Yes.” Amanda motioned for her cousins to accompany her, but her mother shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have time for prolonged good-byes. It’s better if Sophie and Fanny remain behind.”

  “We’ll be praying,” Fanny whispered. “Please write.”

  “I promise.”

  After Amanda hugged Sophie one final time, her mother grasped Amanda’s elbow. “Come along, dear.”

  Amanda sat at the rear of the boat and watched until Broad-moor Island disappeared from sight. A tight knot formed in her stomach. Would she ever see this place again? She had taken her life of privilege for granted. So often she had thought herself wise and savvy to the needs of others and the miseries of the world, but there’d always been the comfort of home to ease her mind. Now that was lost to her. Just as Blake was lost to her.

  While Mr. Atwell steered their course toward Round Island, she stared into the clouded water. The roiling waters appeared to have turned the riverbed upside down, leaving a murky brown waterway teeming with unwanted debris in its wake. “Much like my own life,” she muttered. Ellert had stormed into her world and turned it upside down. Was the unsightly river a reflection of her future? She shivered at the thought.

  Mr. Atwell cut the engine, guided the boat alongside the Frontenac Hotel’s dock, and tossed a line to a young man working at the pier.

  Tying off the boat, the lad offered a quick salute. “Good morning, Mr. Atwell. Anything special I can do for you today?”

&n
bsp; “Morning, Chester. We’ve come for Mr. Broadmoor and Mr. Jackson. I believe they must have stayed overnight at the hotel.”

  The young man rubbed his jaw. “Nope. They took a skiff and left last night. Against my advice, I might add. I told ’em both they was making a mistake, but Mr. Broadmoor said he could handle the storm. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of either one of ’em since they left in that skiff.”

  “You let them leave here in a skiff? During that storm?”

  “I warned the both of ’em, but they wouldn’t listen. Nobody’s seen either one of them since last night?”

  Mr. Atwell shook his head. “Sound the bell.”

  Chester hurried across the wooden planks and yanked on the rope that hung from a large warning bell at the end of the dock. The bell clanged and echoed across the island, tolling a plea for help. The response was swift. Hotel staff and guests hastened toward the dock, but it was Blake Carstead who captured Amanda’s attention. Where had he come from? Had he been at the hotel during the reception last evening?

  A group of men gathered around Mr. Atwell while he explained the need to form search parties. “Neither Jonas Broad-moor nor Ellert Jackson has been seen since they left this dock in a skiff during last night’s storm. We can only guess that the boat capsized, but the men may still be alive and waiting to be rescued on one of the uninhabited islands. We need to make haste and keep a sharp lookout.”

  “Were they headed toward Broadmoor Island?” one of the men shouted.

  “Yes, but in the storm they may have been blown off course. The Broadmoor family will greatly appreciate your assistance in the search. I plan to return Mrs. Broadmoor and her daughter to their home, and then I will join you in the search.”

  While Mr. Atwell continued to organize the men, Amanda edged through the crowd until she was at Blake’s side. “I’m surprised to see you here. Were you here during the . . .”

  He shook his head. “I was here on the island but stayed away from your wedding. I couldn’t have endured watching Ellert Jackson claim you as his wife. I wanted to discuss a matter with your uncle Quincy. Because of last night’s storm, I thought he’d be at the Frontenac, but the manager informed me the family had returned home during a lull in the storm.”

  “All except my father and Ellert,” she said. “They remained to conclude some business matters and were to follow later. Mother and I thought . . .”

  Her mother hastened toward them and grasped Blake’s arm. “Dr. Carstead. Thank goodness you’re here. Jonas may need medical attention. I fear he’ll be suffering from exhaustion. He doesn’t exercise much, and I’m certain the rowing was strenuous. You will come with us, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll return to Broadmoor Island with you and make sure they haven’t returned, then go out with Mr. Atwell to help in the search.”

  The hours moved slowly while the family awaited word of the two missing men. Amanda’s four brothers, as well as Paul and Michael, had gone out with search teams and all had now returned. Jefferson had discovered an oar and several pieces of wood floating in shallow water not far from Broadmoor Island, but they couldn’t be sure the items were from the skiff that had carried Jonas and Ellert.

  “I simply refuse to believe your father isn’t safe and sound,” Victoria told the family. “He’s probably pacing back and forth on one of the islands, wondering when he’s going to be rescued. I can just see him fussing and fuming, can’t you?”

  Amanda watched her mother search for some sign of agreement from the family. When no one responded, Amanda reached forward and grasped her mother’s hand. “Why don’t we go upstairs? I’ll ask Minnie to bring tea to your sitting room. Afterward you can rest.”

  “Absolutely not. I’m going to be right here when your father walks into the house. I couldn’t possibly sleep until he’s home.”

  “Then I’ll have Mrs. Atwell bring tea into the library. I don’t think Father would object if you had a cup of tea.”

  Before she could step out of the room, her mother perked to attention. “Did I hear the front door?” Victoria jumped to her feet. “Yes! I hear voices. You see, your father has returned. I told you he’d be home for supper, didn’t I?” She hurried to the library door but stopped mid-step when Blake and Mr. Atwell stepped into the library. “Where is my husband?”

  Blake’s eyes shone with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Broad-moor, your husband has been gravely wounded. He might not live through the day. We have him on the boat and are preparing to take him to Clayton. I thought you might wish to accompany us.”

  After a wailing denial, her mother dashed for the door. “Mr. Atwell, take me to my husband.”

  Amanda looked at Blake. “Did they . . . ? What of . . . ?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask.

  “Ellert Jackson is dead. We found his body. We wrapped him in a blanket and are preparing to take him to the undertaker in Clayton.”

  Ellert was dead. Her father might well die, too. Chaos swirled around her, yet Amanda couldn’t move. It was as if her feet were permanently affixed to the spot where she stood. Except for remaining frozen in place, she felt perfectly calm. Amid their concerns for her father’s survival, several family members stepped forward and offered condolences for the loss of her new husband.

  “Such a pity to be a widow a day after your wedding,” someone said.

  “You’re young; you’ll marry again,” another remarked.

  Amanda couldn’t seem to comprehend all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. It seemed like a dream.

  “We need to get your father to Clayton. Come on,” Blake said, pulling Amanda along.

  She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Ellert’s lawyer, Mr. Craig, stood beside her. He had accompanied the family to Broadmoor Island to await news of Ellert.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” she replied.

  He offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid I must. We need to discuss how you would like to handle your husband’s funeral arrangements, Mrs. Jackson.”

  29

  Monday, August 21, 1899

  Rochester, New York

  The return journey to Rochester proved more exhausting than Amanda had expected, but she’d done her best to remain calm in the wake of her many decisions. Her choice to have Ellert laid to rest beside his deceased wife in Rochester hadn’t taken long. But Mr. Craig didn’t approve. He thought New York City a better place, but Amanda remained steadfast in her decision. Mr. Craig likely thought her uncaring and selfish, but no matter the location of the services, she doubted any of Ellert’s business associates would appear. With the exception of Mr. Craig, none of them had been there for the wedding. Why would they attend his funeral?

  “I do wish you would reconsider. I think Ellert would have preferred New York City as his final resting place,” Mr. Craig said once they’d entered the Rochester depot.

  Amanda stopped and met the man’s pleading look. “His final home is either heaven or hell, Mr. Craig. What truly matters is not where we bury his bodily remains but where he spends eternity. If Ellert didn’t make his peace with God before he died, I imagine we both know where he is.” She didn’t want to seem unduly harsh, but arguing was useless. She patted the man’s arm. “Besides, Ellert never mentioned a specific desire to be buried in New York City—at least not to me.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t. Ellert thought he was indestructible.”

  “Then he was a foolish man. My decision stands, Mr. Craig.”

  “Very well. I will abide by your wishes, Mrs. Jackson. If you’d like me to accompany you to the mortuary, I would be willing to do so.”

  “You are most kind. I’d be pleased for your assistance. I know Ellert trusted your judgment.” She would never be able to refer to Ellert as her husband, and she certainly didn’t feel like a grieving widow. “If you will advise one of the porters to have the body delivered to the Ambrose Funeral Home, we can go directly there and meet with Mr. Amb
rose.”

  Mr. Craig arched his bushy brows. “Now? Don’t you think you should rest? You’ve been subjected to a great deal of distress. I fear the strain will be too great.”

  “Thank you for your concern, but I need to see the arrangements completed. After that, I will make my way to the hospital and check on my father’s progress.”

  He shrugged. “I’m truly glad that he is recovering. I was relieved to hear they were able to bring him directly to Rochester from Clayton.”

  “I appreciate your concern about my father,” Amanda said with a smile. “Dr. Carstead took care of everything. Father’s body was quite battered by the storm, and the doctors fear he’s developed pneumonia. However, the Rochester hospital is quite good. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  “But of course. Again, you have my condolences.”

  While Mr. Craig strode off to locate a porter, Amanda motioned to her cousins. Both Fanny and Sophie hurried to her side. “I’m going to the funeral home to arrange for Ellert’s burial. Would you be kind enough to go to the hospital and check on Mother? Let her know that I will head over there afterwards to see Father.”

  “And Blake?” Sophie questioned with a slight grin. “He has been most attentive to care for your father, as I’ve heard Paul tell it. I suppose he hopes to charm Uncle Jonas so that he will allow you to marry him. Not that Uncle Jonas will have that much to say this time.”

  “Sophie!” Fanny chided.

  “Well, it’s true. We all know Amanda didn’t love Ellert Jackson. Now she’s free to marry Blake.” She offered Amanda a consoling look. “I’m ever so sorry about your father nearly dying, but isn’t it grand that your future isn’t tied to that nasty Mr. Jackson?”

  “I didn’t wish Ellert dead, but I am most thankful that I am no longer his wife.”

  “Your next wedding will be a much happier occasion,” Sophie said.

  “Talk of another marriage is highly inappropriate while I’m in the midst of Ellert’s funeral arrangements, but should I marry again, you may be assured it will be for love and not for money.”