by Amy M. Reade
I ran upstairs, grabbed a coat and a flashlight, and let myself out the front door. I dashed into the darkened woods, knowing by now the path toward the boathouse. It took only a couple of minutes to reach the stony outcroppings near the dock. I saw the lights on in Pete’s rooms, and for a moment I considered asking him for help, but I didn’t want to appear needy and incapable.
It was creepy down by the dock at night. I had never noticed it before now, but a single lamp glowed dimly in the darkness, hanging about eight or nine feet above the dock at its far end. The crescent moon was reflected in the waves that sloshed gently against the dock, and the boat bobbed rhythmically. I slowed my pace and stepped onto the wooden dock, holding the flashlight in front of me.
I had gone only about ten steps when the lamp went out. My heart skipped a beat, I stopped dead in my tracks, and I was suddenly trembling so much that I dropped the flashlight into the black water. My mind raced as I tried to decide what to do next. I couldn’t go back to Alex and tell her that I was too afraid to be down here alone after dark, but I couldn’t make my feet move any closer to the boat. I thought quickly. I needed to go to the boathouse and ask Pete for another flashlight and some help.
Before I could turn around, I heard a noise behind me. Instinctively, I put my arms over my head to protect myself. Rough hands reached out of the inky blackness and shoved me to one side. I lost my balance, teetered for a second, and fell helplessly off the dock and into the water.
The next few moments happened so quickly that I have little recollection of them. I do remember screaming and hearing footsteps running away into the night. I thrashed around in the water and grabbed onto a piling, the first solid object I touched. Terrified, I yelled Pete’s name several times and finally heard more footsteps dashing toward me on the dock. Now I was even more terrified— what if the person had come back? I stopped yelling and hung on to the piling with all my might.
Suddenly a flashlight’s beam cut through the darkness and strong arms were pulling me from the water. Before I knew it, I was lying faceup on the dock with the flashlight shining into my eyes. A voice exclaimed, “Macy! What are you doing down here? What happened to you?”
I pushed the flashlight away so that I wouldn’t be blinded. I was staring into Will’s face. He was still gripping my arm.
I shook my arm free and sat up straight, backing up as I did so. “I was pushed into the water,” I answered breathlessly. More footsteps were running toward us now, and the light at the end of the dock sputtered on again. It was Pete.
“What’s going on? I heard someone screaming!” he shouted as he ran up to us.
“It’s Macy,” Will replied. “She says someone pushed her in the water. I happened to be out for a walk and I heard her yelling. I pulled her out.”
Pete turned to me. “Are you all right?” Without waiting for an answer, he asked incredulously, “What on earth were you doing down here?”
I was slowly catching my breath. I answered crossly, “Alex lost her bracelet. She was upset, so I told her I would come down here to see if it was in the boat. What difference does it make why I was down here? What matters is that someone pushed me in the water!”
“Who was it?” Will asked.
“I don’t know,” I told him, a little more quietly now. “The light went out at the end of the dock and then I dropped my flashlight into the water and a few seconds later someone pushed me from behind. Thank goodness I was able to grab on to the piling.” I shuddered thinking of what might have happened if it hadn’t been within reach.
“It was a good thing I happened to be walking nearby,” Will said.
“You were lucky he came along, Macy,” Pete agreed.
“I know. Thank you, Will,” I told him.
“No problem.”
Pete reached down to offer me his hand. His forehead was creased with worry.
“This is serious,” he said grimly between clenched teeth. “Will, you didn’t see who pushed her?”
“I didn’t see anything or anyone. It was just by chance that I was walking nearby.”
I was afraid. The full meaning of what had happened was just beginning to dawn on me. I rose shakily to my feet with Pete supporting me on one side and Will on the other. My teeth were chattering uncontrollably, and not merely from the cold. As we made our way toward the boathouse, Pete ran ahead and up to his rooms. I didn’t want to be left alone with Will, but if he was the one who had pushed me, I knew he wouldn’t try to harm me when Pete would be returning so quickly. Will didn’t say anything while Pete was gone, and it was only a minute before Pete came clattering back down the boathouse steps. He was at my side again right away with a soft blanket and a heavy coat. He and Will wrapped them around my shoulders and we set off through the trees back to Summerplace. When we reached the front door, I thanked them for seeing me back to the house and told them I would get up to my room by myself.
“I just need to dry off and lie down,” I said wearily.
“Be careful—lock yourself in,” Pete warned me.
“Yeah, you should,” Will chimed in. I looked at him intently, then turned and went inside. I heard him come in behind me, but I didn’t look back. His footsteps faded away toward the kitchen.
When I got to my room, the first thing I did was to slide an armchair in front of each door. The desk was still in front of the turret door, so that would stay where it was. Next I changed out of my wet clothes, built a roaring fire, and crawled into bed, physically and emotionally spent.
I don’t think I moved all night long, and I don’t remember having any nightmares. But when I woke up the following morning, my body felt battered, like I had run a marathon in my sleep. And my mind was still exhausted, like it usually was after one of my nightmares. I saw the sun streaming in my balcony doors, normally a welcome sight, but I groaned and turned away from the blinding brightness. I didn’t know what time it was and I didn’t care.
There was a knock at my door. I heard myself mumble loudly, “Who’s there?” A voice answered, “Pete.”
Moaning, I somehow managed to slink out of bed and shuffle toward the door, though every muscle in my body screamed at me in protest. I tugged at the armchair until there was just enough room to open the door. I opened it and turned immediately back toward my bed.
Pete followed me. When I had pulled the covers back up to my chin and closed my eyes, he sat down next to me on the bed and asked solicitously, “How are you feeling this morning?”
I opened my eyes and peered at him. “I’ve been better,” I managed.
“I spoke to Alex this morning. I told her you fell last night down near the dock and that you’re probably pretty sore today. She is very concerned about you and she feels terrible that she let you go down there. I didn’t think you’d want me to tell her what really happened.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “I don’t know what it is about you, but you seem to have brought things to a head around here since you arrived.”
“I don’t know what it is about me, either. I don’t even want to think about that right now. But thank you for telling Alex that I just fell. Oh my gosh, I forgot all about the bracelet!”
“I found it and gave it to Alex. I went down to the dock first thing this morning and looked in the boat. It was lying on the floor right next to her seat.”
“I’m so glad,” I breathed.
“I’m not staying. I want you to get some more sleep. Is there anything I can get you?”
“Could you go in my bathroom and get me some aspirin?”
“Sure.” He left and was back a minute later with two aspirin and a glass of water. “Take these and I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of hours. Maybe you’ll feel a little better by then.”
I nodded, and I think I was asleep before he even let himself out the door. I slept soundly until he returned, this time carrying a tray. When I asked him what time it was he informed me that I had slept through lunch.
“I came back a while ago a
nd knocked, but you didn’t answer. I peeked in and you were in a deep sleep, so I left. You must be feeling a little better because you at least woke up this time.”
“I do feel better,” I said drowsily. It was true. The extra sleep and aspirin had done the trick. My muscles didn’t seem to ache nearly as much as they had earlier when he had come up to see me, and my mind felt much more lucid. “How’s Alex?”
“She’s fine. And she wants you to take as much time off as you need until you feel a hundred percent.”
“That’s nice of her.”
“Can you sit up and eat something? I brought you some lunch.”
I sat up and he placed the tray on the bed next to me. He had brought soup, a buttered roll, and iced tea. It tasted wonderful. “I wish I could say that I made this, but it’s from Vali. She makes great soup.”
“She’s a wonderful cook,” I agreed.
“When you’re done, do you want to try walking around a bit?” he asked.
“Yes, absolutely. My muscles are only going to get stiffer if I lie here much longer,” I replied.
“I’ll walk with you,” he offered.
After I finished my lunch, I showered and dressed while Pete waited for me in the library. I felt much better once I was up and moving around. My arms and legs still ached, but the pain was tolerable.
We walked around outside for a little while; then he went back to the boathouse and I went in to check on Alex. I found her in her office. She was surprised to see me.
“Macy! How are you feeling? I’m so sorry I sent you down to that dock last night for my bracelet. It was all my fault. Thank goodness Will was down there and could help you!” Her words tumbled from her mouth in a rush.
I chuckled. “Alex, I’m fine. I just went for a short walk and I’m feeling much better. And please don’t blame yourself for any of this. I was just sorry that I wasn’t able to bring your bracelet back to you.”
“Of course I want you to take all the time you need to feel better before you start worrying about me,” Alex said.
“By tomorrow my muscles should have recovered enough to be able to work with you on your exercises and take you out for a walk.”
“Just don’t rush yourself,” she cautioned me.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “By the way, has Will been in here this morning? I wanted to thank him again.”
“No. He and Stephan left for New York very early this morning. Our deal is closing tomorrow and they had a lot of work to do in the New York office.”
I thanked her and left. I heard her lock her door behind me. I had wanted to talk to Will this morning to ask him some questions I had about last night. Like how he happened to be out walking exactly when and where I was pushed into the water. And what he and Diana had fought about in the days before she died. Now those questions would have to wait until he and Stephan returned from New York.
I wandered into the large living room and stood before the painting of Forrest that hung above the mantel. I heard a noise behind me and turned to see Vali walk into the room. When she saw me, she turned around quickly to return to the dining room, but I called her back.
“Vali, I want to ask you something. Do you know who pushed me off the dock last night?”
She fixed me with a blank stare for several seconds. “I didn’t do it,” she finally growled, and walked back into the dining room.
I sighed. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with Vali. Perhaps Leland would be more willing to talk. I went in search of him, but I wasn’t able to find him in the house or around the grounds. I thought briefly of stopping by the cottage he shared with Vali but decided against it. I didn’t want to be alone with him.
I was walking around the porch to the front of the house when Pete walked out of the woods.
“Feeling better?” he greeted me.
“Much.”
“I have to go over to Heather Island to my mother’s house. I thought you might like to go with me.”
“How far away is it?”
“It’s not that far.” As if reading my mind, he continued, “It’s a quick trip in the boat.”
“Okay, I’ll go along,” I agreed. He had told me a little about Heather Island, and I was interested to see the place where he had grown up. He waited for me on the porch while I went upstairs to get a heavier coat, and we walked together through the trees and down to the dock.
I wasn’t prepared for the fear that swept over me like a tidal wave when I stepped onto the dock. Suddenly the events of the night before were rushing at me again. It was dark, an unseen pursuer had pushed me from behind, and I was fighting to keep my balance on the dock.
I closed my eyes and started to sway, my breath quickening, when Pete put his arm tightly around my shoulders. It steadied me a bit.
“Macy, you’re okay now. Try to think of something else. Come on, I want to introduce you to Heather Island.”
His words helped to focus me, and I walked determinedly down the dock to where the boat sat waiting. After I got in, the first thing I did was to put on a life jacket. My experience the previous night had affirmed my resolve never to be without one on the water.
Before long we were bumping lightly over the waves of the St. Lawrence River toward Heather Island. Much of the scenery that we passed was new to me; I hadn’t been very far on the river in this direction yet. The character of the waterway and its islands changed somewhat as we headed north. The river widened and there were more watery passageways to discover among smaller islands. Pete took us on a detour through one such hidden waterway.
“We’re in what’s known as the Lost Channel right now,” he explained as he slowed the boat a little. “During the French and Indian War, a British ship got lost among these islands, called Ivy Lea, searching for French ships. The British sailors started calling this area of the river the Lost Channel, and the name stuck.” Shadows darkened the water between the islands in the Lost Channel, and the effect was Edenic. Dark evergreens swayed together in the slight breeze, and here and there bright leaves from maple and birch trees loosened their hold and drifted slowly down into the water. There wasn’t another soul in sight. I imagined that the scene had changed little since the time of the French and Indian War. I also imagined that one could very easily get lost among these islands.
When we were back on our way to Heather Island, Pete told me a little about his family.
“My mother was originally from Québec. Her family moved to the island while she was still a young girl. My father moved there when they were married. Only about fifteen families live on the island year-round, so it can get pretty isolated in the winter. My sister goes to school in Ontario, but she gets home quite often to see my mother. My father passed away when I was a teenager,” he concluded.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I responded sympathetically.
“Dad was great. He’s the one who taught me how to fix anything. He had a great love of the river. He had met Forrest at a museum in Canada. They shared an interest in Native American history and artifacts, and eventually they became good friends. That’s how I came to work for Alex after my dad died. Forrest and Alex kind of took me under their wing, much like they had done with Will after his parents died.
“That’s also why I’ll do anything I can to help Alex. I owe her a debt for all the help she gave me years ago.”
We were approaching Heather Island. It looked immense to me, rising out of the water.
“My sister is going to meet us at the public dock. She’ll drive us to Mom’s house.”
I wrestled out of my life jacket while Pete secured the boat to the dock. He helped me out of the boat and we walked to a park-like area near the dock. He waved to a younger woman sitting in a parked car nearby and she got out and walked toward us. She was petite, with long red hair. She shared her brother’s lively green eyes. I recognized her as the young woman in one of the photos in Pete’s living room.
Pete walked up to her and kissed her cheek. She stood on t
iptoes and put her arms around his neck and squeezed. I stood several feet away.
Pete turned to me and said to his sister, “Colette, this is Macy Stoddard. She’s Alex’s new nurse.”
Colette smiled broadly and shook my hand. “So you’re Macy! Pete has told us about you.” I blushed.
“How do you like Hallstead Island?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful. In fact, this whole area is just breathtaking.”
She nodded. “That’s why we love it, isn’t it, Pete?”
“You bet.”
“Let’s go home,” Colette suggested. “Mom’s anxious to see you.”
We drove for several minutes along a bumpy road until we came to a charming home set back from the road amid a grove of birch trees. The gabled cottage was white with dark green shutters and a dark green front door. A white picket fence surrounded it, and fall flowers grew in profusion in front of the quaint porch. American and Canadian flags flew from two porch posts. The entire scene could have been lifted from the pages of a picture book.
We mounted the front steps and Colette opened the big green door into a small hallway. “Mom, we’re back!” she shouted.
Another petite woman with close-cropped, stylish gray hair came into the hall wiping her hands on a dish towel. She looked chic in slacks and a Fair Isle sweater.
She kissed Pete on the cheek and held out her hands to me. “You must be Macy.” She beamed. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Pete’s mother. Call me Hélène.” She spoke and pronounced her name with a slight French accent.
I liked Hélène and Colette immediately. Within just a few minutes I was laughing and talking with them as if we’d been friends for years. After a short time, Pete suggested that we all have a look around Heather Island. Hélène said she had work to finish and dinner to make, and Colette declined too, saying she had to study. So, seated in his mother’s four-by-four, Pete and I set off by ourselves on a tour of the island.
Heather Island, I learned, was one of the largest of the Thousand Islands. It was covered with forests, wetlands, grasslands, working farms, and large and unspoiled wildlife habitats. We passed an old one-room schoolhouse (“that schoolhouse was open as recently as 1985,” Pete told me proudly), an abandoned cheese factory, and an ancient cemetery. But most impressive were the views of the water, both inland and on the river. I could see islands belonging to both Canada and the United States, bays surrounded by trees that were mirrored in the calm, dark water, and endless cattail marshes. It was a delightful tour and I was sorry when it ended.
