Page 5 of One Weekend On Mackinac Island
Feeling the weight of Todd's gaze on me, I glanced up and met his knowing eyes, which made me feel like he knew my secret. Though we never talked about it, the way he looked at me, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, made me certain he knew I was drawn to his little sister.
Chapter 3
Kat
Dinner, thankfully, had beenfor family alone, so I didn’t have to face the Chambers again. It was bad enough I let them get to me . . . still. I hated that they could rattle me just like they did all those years ago. Ihadnearly died that day, but I couldn’t help feeling that wasn’t an excuse. I was stronger than that?wasn’t I? I liked to believe I was. So, why, with just a few words, did they bring me back to the terrifying feeling of helplessness I experienced on that day?
It irked me that Owen appeared to be aware that something was amiss, as if he could read my mind. He’d been a thorn in my side all through dinner, practically glued to me, his presence as unwelcome as a persistent mosquito buzzing in my ear. Although I usually enjoyed the addition of the Stanton’s to family gatherings, last night was an exception to my usual enjoyment of their company. Having one less Stanton would have been preferable for me, which was saying something about how rattled the Chambers had made me.
Usually, I loved having Owen involved in all our family events. That way, I could indulge in the pleasure of being around my crush and soak in his presence. The shame of being seen at my weakest burned in my mind, making even the slightest proximity to him torturous. I knew I was being unreasonable. Tria told me it was all in my head. I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed in his perception of me, a subtle alteration in how he regarded me. And I didn’t like it. The thought of him seeing me as weak, a loser, because of the fear and panic that still haunted me, was like a knife twisting in my gut. Therefore, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
But, of course, that wasn’t in the cards for me. Todd and Tria made sure of it.
I now found myself on the back end of a tandem bicycle, staring at the back of Owen’s head as we made a group trek around the island, hitting all the natural history highlights. Why did the back view of Owen Stanton have to be just as good as the front? I found myself repeatedly lost in thought, captivated by the way his black t-shirt clung to his muscular back, revealing broad shoulders that tapered down to a trim waist. Not to mention the constant, powerful motion of his legs, up and down, up and down, was like a hypnotic spell, mesmerizing me completely.
Initially, I had planned to stay irked and avoid him, but as time passed, my resolve wavered and I found myself forgetting my initial feelings. Especially when he wasniceto me. I didn’t know what that was about and it made me feel itchy.
We’d gotten up before the sun and made our way to the Mission Point Resort on the east side of the island, where we picked up coffee and breakfast goodies at the Boxwood Coffeeshop and Café. The storm clouds had moved on, leaving behind a breathtaking sunrise. The sky was a canvas of vibrant colors, a stark contrast to the ominous clouds of the previous day. As I watched, the lingering tension from the day before began to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and calm.
At least until Owen sat beside me. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, and I felt a strange discomfort that was far greater than the irritation I usually felt when he teased me. He was lost in his thoughts, his face distant and unreadable, and I was about to get up and leave him to them when he finally spoke.
“There were times like this in the service,” he began, a flicker of memory in his eyes, and I couldn't help but look at him. He never talked about it. Todd didn’t either . . . at least not with me. His voice was rough and low as he continued. “No matter what country or hellhole I was in, the sunrise or sunset would remind me of home. I'd sit and watch, lost in the golden light that always brought your image to mind.”
Nothing he said could have shocked me more. My jaw dropped as I stared at him, his words echoing in my ears, leaving me utterly bewildered.
“There had been countless times growing up when we’d watched the sunset over the lake. Do you remember? It was one of your favorite things to do. You’d watch the sky, and I’d watch you. Watching brought you joy. I think I was jealous that you could derive such pleasure from something so simple.”
Another shocking statement. He’d always seemed like a happy-go-lucky guy. But thinking back, maybe it had all been an act. His mother dying when he was a teen must have affected him greatly. Mrs. Stanton had been like a second mother to me and I missed her still to this day. I tried to picture his world, devoid of his mother's love, and a wave of sorrow washed over me.
It was another thing he never talked about.
“So, I would sit thousands of miles from home, watching the fiery colors of the sunset paint the sky, longing for the same joy you felt.”
“Did it work?” I whispered.
He shrugged. “Not always. But thinking of you was always worth it.”
Shocked. Dumb.
His words, accompanied by a wry grin, pirouetted through my thoughts, seeking a place to land and find meaning. But I couldn’t make sense of them. I was Kit the Nitwit. The fact that I had been on his mind when he’d been serving overseas was hard to compute.
My brain hadn't even had time to process the situation before Tria, in a flurry of motion, beckoned us towards her. It was time for our next scheduled wedding activity.
The golden hues of sunrise were fading as our group, which unfortunately included Scott and Stephanie, picked up our bike rentals and began our cycling adventure. Our first stop?Arch Rock.
From the resort, we headed out on Huron Road leading us to the cottages on the East Bluff. I use the term cottages loosely, since they were more akin to stately Victorian mansions than the cozy little cottages I imagined. Even with my head still reeling from Owen’s revelation, I still would have loved to see the inside of even one of those beautiful homes.
Leaving the houses behind, white pine trees, Michigan's state tree, reigned supreme, but a diverse collection of birch, white cedar, spruce, and red pine trees also graced the area, painting a breathtaking panorama of greens and browns. The birch trees we passed had fist-sized holes where woodpeckers had made their homes. The rhythmic hammering of their work created a distinct rat-a-tat sound that could be heard clearly.
After arriving at Arch Rock, we waited our turn among the throngs of visitors to get our pictures with the rock formation at our backs. The arch was fifty feet across at its widest point and stood one hundred forty-six feet above the lake. It had been formed over thousands of years by wind and water, leaving behind what I’d read was called breccia rock.
As I waited for the others to finish up in the bathroom after our turn viewing the arch, I overheard a tour guide explaining the Indian legend about how the arch was formed. The tale told of a woman, while gathering rice, met a man who was a son of the sky spirit.
“They couldn't resist the undeniable spark between them,” the tour guide said, “and as fate would have it, they fell in love. Her dad put the kibosh on her marrying the non-mortal. He beat her and tied her on a rock high on a bluff where she wept for her lost love. Her tears flowing down the bluff washed away the stone and formed the arch.”
I lost myself in the touching story. What was it about legends that tore at the heartstrings? As a hopeful tourist asked about the reunion, I could picture the pair embracing, their faces filled with joy. But then the guide gave another possible reason for the formation that made everybody laugh?one hundred pileated woodpeckers pecking away at the rock.
“I liked the love story better,” a deep voice murmured into my ear, the words laced with a hint of amusement. I tried to suppress the shivers his hot breath on my neck sent downmy spine. His smile appeared as bright and warm as the mid-morning sun as I glanced over my shoulder at him, and my breath hitched in my throat. The man was potent, there was no doubt.