My Heart Belongs on Mackinac Island

by Carrie Fancett Pagels

  The doctor’s eyes widened, and he held Ben’s gaze. “You really don’t realize the extent of her fears, do you?”

  Maude’s fears? Who wouldn’t panic if they had asthma and couldn’t breathe in certain locales? “Are you one of Freud’s followers?”

  “No.” Cadotte laughed. “I’m just a country doctor. But I have known Maude Welling all her life. And I’ve been her physician. Some of her avoidance of leaving the island has to do with the breathing attacks she’s had. But I’m not convinced that some of it isn’t psychological.”

  “Oh?” The man may not be a follower of young Dr. Sigmund Freud’s theories, but Cadotte was sounding like the growing group of psychiatrists who liked to expound on why every ailment was in the psyche. Like the men who became concerned over King Ludwig.

  Maude didn’t need Cadotte giving her a problem in her mind, when none existed. Ben would be sure to watch the man’s influence over her. Yet how could he, when he was leaving soon?

  Only a few hours had passed since Friedrich had left, but it felt like she’d sat in her parents’ room for days. Not just because of Father’s illness, but because she sensed her beau’s absence keenly. No wonder Mother and Father had wanted her settled and married. Father slept peacefully, an arm draped over Mother’s pillow, as if she might yet be with him. She rose and quietly slipped out of the bedchamber.

  Descending the stairs, she fingered the smooth bannister, which had known the touch of a Cadotte woman for over a hundred years. What good would living here be if those she loved weren’t with her? Paintings of the island’s spectacular views lined the stairwell wall. She would now be running the inn. By herself. Father in bed. Greyson married to Anna. Every one of her ideas for her life altered.

  She quickly met with the entire staff to give them an update and assure them she’d be assuming stewardship of the inn. Whether Father liked it or not. But, oh, what a predicament. She’d never wished for him to grow sicker.

  When Maude was finished, Bea raised her hand. “Do you want tea in the office now?”

  Cook eyed the hall grandfather clock, and Maude shook her head.

  Jane caught her eye. “Will ye be in the office, then, miss?”

  “Yes, but feel free to come get me if you need anything. And thank you all for your attention.”

  Gretchen remained behind as the rest scattered in different directions to their duties. “Where do you need me tonight?”

  “Could you please sit with my father until after dinner?”

  “Of course.” Gretchen bobbed a curtsy. “And thank you for the chance, miss. I’d be on the street if it wasn’t for you.”

  When tears sprung up in the young woman’s eyes, Maude pulled her into a quick hug. “Thank God you’re here to help us, Gretchen.”

  They parted ways and Maude settled into her father’s chair in the office. She’d not be able to attend services on the morrow, so she sought time alone with God. She studied the Word and reflected before entering a time of prayer. Prayers hadn’t saved Mother, nor had good works. What, then, other than the will of God, would save Father? Maude’s Bible reading convicted her that she’d been selfish, thinking of herself and wanting to remain on the island with Father and Jack with her. They needed to go. No wonder Father couldn’t get well—everywhere he looked he was reminded of Mother. Tears streamed down her face. Father had to get better and then leave. And the rift with Uncle Robert must be resolved.

  Jane peeked her head in, her white hat askew. She adjusted it. “Almost dinnertime.”

  At this time last week Maude had the luxury of being home, after working herself to the bone for hours already. “What time did you start your workday?”

  The servant’s pleasant features scrunched together in puzzlement. “I think ’twas eight o’clock this morning.”

  “It’s already six.” Maude ran her hand over her chin. “Tomorrow I’ll work on the schedule and adjust the hours.”

  Jane’s stricken look prompted Maude to add. “Same pay, maybe even a raise if I can manage it. Jack and I can serve ourselves.”

  “I better bring the food in, though, miss—you know how Cook is.”

  “Yes. I better get permission to be in her kitchen first. Please warn her that in the future I might do so.”

  “Yes, miss.” Jane smiled and then headed down the hall, humming an Irish melody.

  Footfalls battered down the stairs, and Maude cringed. Jack arrived at the office, his face pale. “Do I gotta go to service tomorrow, sis?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Mr. König agreed to teach my Sunday school class.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes.” She hoped he could manage the children.

  “I should go, then.”

  “Yes, but for now let’s have our dinner.”

  After shoveling down his meal of whitefish, corn bread, and wild asparagus, Maude’s brother ran off.

  Jane carried in a peach cobbler.

  “The whitefish was superb.”

  “Sorry Jackie is missing out on dessert. I saw him run down the hall.”

  “Hopefully to the bathroom, to brush his teeth and comb his hair.”

  “I don’t think so, miss.” Jane pointed toward the window as Jack sped past on his bicycle.

  Maude sighed and then met her gaze. “Just call me Maude.”

  “Yes, miss … Maude, that is.” Jane dished out a serving of the cobbler onto a small blue floral china plate and set it before her.

  “Thank you. It smells heavenly.”

  “Georgia peaches. Your uncle sent them over when he heard about your father.”

  “How good of him.” Probably half the island now knew of her father’s troubles. She took a taste of the peaches. Perfectly sweetened and with a hint of ginger and cinnamon.

  “I hate to ask ye a favor, but …”

  Maude looked up into Jane’s pensive face. “What is it?”

  “My sister has arrived in New York.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Maude grinned up at the Irishwoman. “At last—you’ll have family here.”

  The servant blinked away tears. “I was hopin’ ye had a position for her, but with Gretchen coming on now, I didn’t know.”

  “Of course we’ll find a place for her, Jane.”

  “Thank ye, miss, Maude. And I’ll keep prayin’ for yer father. He’s been kind to me.”

  “We’re grateful we have your help, Jane. Even if I don’t always tell you …” Had she ever told her? “I appreciate all you do.”

  Jane’s cheeks bloomed as pink as the peony on the table. “Thank ye, miss … that is—Maude.”

  “I want Gretchen to start training under you once Father is better. Beginning on Monday, you’ll be our senior housekeeper.” Maude would examine the books and find money for additional staff and raises.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There will be a raise, but I’ll have to tell you later what that amount is.”

  “Thank you.” Jane bobbed a curtsy. “Anything else, Maude?”

  She smiled at her. “Yes. You can take the carriage to church tomorrow with Jack. It’s Gretchen’s turn to stay home since she’s the new girl. You’ll be able to claim the Sundays from now on unless you have to accommodate the schedule. You just let me know.”

  “Aye, Maude.”

  After she’d finished her cobbler and Jane had cleared the dishes away, Maude checked on her father. He was resting well, and his color was good. She headed back to the office.

  Settled at her father’s desk, Maude pored over the books, checking for discrepancies. She could tell exactly when Mother had stopped making entries in her fluid feminine hand and Father had taken over. After an hour, she got up to stretch and check on her father again.

  Bea stopped her in the hallway. “Your pa is sitting up eating dinner, and he’s fine. Said he doesn’t want to be bothered.”

  “Bothered? Is that what he calls it?”

  “His words, not mine.” Bea chuckled.
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  Chapter Twenty-One

  The sweet scents of lilacs and peonies mingled with the roses’ fragrance in the side garden, where Maude settled onto a stone bench. With only a week left in June, soon her favorite flowers would be gone. The last lacy lilac blossoms would tumble from the trees and the peonies’ silky petals would fall from their tall stalks. She opened her Bible to the book of James.

  Voices carried from up front. Bea was arguing with someone. Sighing, Maude rose and returned to the back entrance.

  Bea ran up the hallway as Maude reached the top of the back wooden stairs. Eyes wide with alarm, the girl grabbed Maude’s leg-of-mutton sleeve and pulled.

  “Maude—I couldn’t stop her!”

  “Who?” Maude pulled the frantic girl’s hands from her sleeve, now a wrinkled mess.

  Bea pointed to the office, where the door was opened wide. Maude turned to the right and stepped closer. A woman bent over Father’s desk, red curls trailing from beneath her silk-rose-covered bonnet. More alarming than seeing Anna Luce at the inn, though, was the fact that Father’s books were all open on the desktop. Where Maude had left them.

  Maude strode into the room, closing the door a little too firmly behind her.

  Anna flinched but remained rooted by Father’s desk as though she had every right in the world to be there. Immaculate in a mint-green walking suit with lace appliqué, Anna looked more suited to a prominent social call in Detroit than to calling at a small-island inn.

  “What’re you doing?” Maude met Anna’s cool gaze as she propped her matching mint silk sun umbrella by the desk.

  “I thought it was time I paid your father a visit.”

  Maude’s heart galloped. Oh, no—could it be that she was the woman rumored to be planning to buy the inn? Although Bea had already brought the coffee cart in, Maude had no intention of encouraging this woman to linger.

  “He invited you?”

  “Not exactly.” Anna ran a finger along the top of the cabinet. “Where is he?”

  Sucking in a breath, Maude moved between the intruder and her father’s desk. What should she call this woman? She couldn’t call her Mrs. Luce. Maude was supposed to have been Mrs. Greyson Luce, and Greyson would be running things with her right now were it not for Anna.

  “My father is ill, and I’m in charge of the inn.” For now, at least. She swallowed. Maude would also provide oversight for the other businesses. She was an excellent bookkeeper, but previously she’d only been tasked with keeping up with Uncle Al’s shop. Having examined the books, she was daunted by the ledgers from the number of businesses that her parents had taken over after Grandmother had died.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “How convenient. The very day I wish to speak with him he’s suddenly ill.”

  “Mrs …” Maude couldn’t say it. And she’d not share that Father may have suffered a heart attack last evening. “This is Sunday, and you’ve confessed you’ve not been invited.”

  The woman had the decency to blush.

  “Suffice it to say that I’m in charge for the foreseeable future. Whatever you need to say to him can be addressed to me.”

  Anna took two steps toward the front windows. “I imagine you know why I’m here, then, since your father finds you so infinitely trustworthy.”

  Twin hammers began to pound on Maude’s temples. “Are you here to purchase the inn, then?”

  Never mind that Grandmother Cadotte as well as her mother had always said the inn was to be Maude’s and her husband’s. She had no husband. But Friedrich König’s handsome face suddenly came to mind.

  “This inn?” Anna’s scoffing tone left no doubt as to what she thought of the Winds of Mackinac. “Hardly.”

  Maude’s cheeks burned. “Then why are you here?”

  Anna lifted Father’s prized Eiffel Tower clock. The two-foot-tall reproduction of the Eiffel Tower featured lacy cutwork metal completely gilded, save for the clock rim. It had arrived this Christmas. Father said an old friend had sent it to him.

  “My father’s friend owns one exactly like this.”

  Maude could not care less about Mr. Forham’s wealthy friends. She didn’t keep up with society columns.

  “Adelaide Bishop. The mysterious and fabulously wealthy recluse?” Greyson’s wife smirked. “You’ve probably heard of her, even up in this rural area.”

  “For your information, St. Ignace has several newspapers, Mackinaw City has theirs, and the island has one, as well.” The straits bustled with activity, and that meant news. Hadn’t the St. Ignace Journal run a brief article about the infamous Adelaide Bishop? Maude rubbed a spot on her temple, trying to recall.

  “This image of the Eiffel Tower reminds me that my father promised us a Paris honeymoon.”

  If only Mr. Forham had—and Greyson and Anna hadn’t come here.

  Anna giggled, as though she realized her gaffe. “But I imagine you don’t want to hear that, since you were supposed to marry Greyson yourself.”

  Slumping into Father’s chair, Maude gestured to the seat opposite. She needed an ocean between her and this woman, not this cluttered desk. One by one she closed the bound books: Cadotte Ice, Cadotte Island Shipping, Cadotte Firewood, Cadotte Carriages, Cadotte Hauling and Delivery.

  Deftly arranging her layered silk gown around her, Anna lowered her elegant form into the chair. “Greyson and I have been here several weeks already.”

  “Yes, you may recall I met you at the docks.” Maude compressed her lips tighter. Anna’s eyes cut to one of the ledgers still open and Maude flipped it closed with one finger.

  Three taps preceded Bea into the room. “Pour your coffee now, miss?”

  Before Maude could respond, the uninvited visitor waved an imperious hand. “No, thank you. I’ll be leaving shortly.”

  When Bea turned to leave, Maude cleared her throat. “I’ll take my coffee with cream and three lumps of sugar, please, before you go.”

  The girl swiveled and bobbed a little curtsy.

  Anna folded her hands in her lap. Her ecru crocheted gloves were edged at the cuffs with tiny ruffles that fitted her dainty hands. Maude glanced down at her own work-roughened hands. She’d earned every callus. What had this woman ever earned on her own?

  “As I was saying, we’ve been here and settled in, yet your father still hasn’t put Greyson to work.”

  To work?

  The filigreed pink Bohemian glass cup Bea held clattered into its saucer. “Sorry!”

  Maude gave Bea a tremulous smile. “Just bring it to me, please.”

  Bea set the coffee before Maude. “Please try it, Miss Welling. And make sure I got it right.”

  Wonderful! Now Anna was going to think the Wellings never had their servants wait on them. Maude took a mouthful of the sweet creamy beverage.

  “Fine, Bea. Thank you.”

  Anna lifted her pert nose. “Greyson expected to be put to work at one of the Cadotte holdings.”

  Bea’s mouth dropped open. Maude took another sip of coffee. Lord, give me patience.

  “After all, being a Cadotte descendant, it’s expected of him, isn’t it?”

  Maude’s mouthful of coffee flew past her lips and spread over the books. Bea quickly strode forward, lifted her apron, and blotted the ledgers dry. Thank goodness, Maude had closed them.

  “He ain’t a Cadotte nothing, miss!” Bea blurted.

  Face twisted in outrage, Anna half-rose from her seat. Did she intend to strike Bea?

  “Mrs. Luce!” Maude said pointedly, and the woman scowled.

  “Your maid has insulted my husband.”

  Maude waved her hands toward the door. “Bea, you’re dismissed.”

  “I ain’t fired, am I?” The girl’s emerald eyes filled with tears.

  “Just go.” She’d talk with Bea later.

  As she left, Bea gave wide berth to Anna.

  Jack bounded in.

  “Aw, it’s her—the stranger Greyson up and married. Whatcha doin’ here, lady?”

 
Anna twisted in her chair and craned her neck back to look up at Jack, attired in a navy-and-yellow-striped running suit with matching blue socks.

  “I could ask you the same thing, Jack.” Maude made a shooing motion.

  “I’m goin’ for a run up Grand Hill.”

  “All right.” Maude continued to wave him away.

  Transfixed, he gazed down at Anna in adoration. “You sure are pretty.”

  To Maude’s surprise, a beautiful smile lit the woman’s face, and she raised her hand. Except that Jack didn’t bend to kiss it. Instead, he pumped it vigorously.

  Then he left, calling out, “For a redhead, that is!” He cackled, and the door closed behind him.

  Anna’s features tightened into a mask of rage. Maude closed her eyes momentarily. Jack had been rude, but he’d also given the woman a backhanded compliment.

  “Mrs. Luce.” There, she’d said it. “Had Greyson told you my father offered him employment?”

  “No, but …”

  She measured her words. “Has he ever said to you that he is part of the Cadotte family?”

  “Not exactly, but …” Anna lifted her chin.

  “I didn’t think so.” After she pushed her coffee cup aside, Maude rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her hands together. “Who has made these claims?”

  Straightening in her chair, her silk roses bobbing on the brim of her hat, Anna frowned. “Greyson has been saying for years that he’d be running many Cadotte businesses because of his family associations.”

  “For years?” While he was courting her? She cocked her head, awaiting Anna’s reply.

  She averted her gaze. “To his fraternity brothers and so on.”

  “Did he now?” Maude began to chuckle.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “Because Greyson was supposed to have run the inn with me after we were wed. That would have been his family association—via marriage into my family.” She met Anna’s green glare.

  “But, but …” The redhead waved her gloved hand toward the desktop. “Was he not heir to the other businesses—the Cadotte holdings?”

  Maude gritted her teeth, her head now at a full pounding boil. It was none of this woman’s concern what her family owned on the island.