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“Oh. Good morning,” she said to the dog. How silly that people spoke to dogs in this way. But of course, she felt it only polite.

“He doesn’t bite.”

The dog’s owner’s voice was gritty yet warm. She turned her eyes to spot a man in his late-sixties marching past, clearly on his morning stroll and unwilling to pause for some tourist in the middle of some silly meditation practice. He didn’t even turn his eyes toward hers. “Come along, Diesel. Enjoy your day, young lady.”

“You as well.”

The dog stretched his legs forward to hustle up to his owner. Elise watched them for a moment: the older man, his loyal companion. What was it about the morning that made her so nostalgic? She felt she could see the love between the two beings—that neither could have gone even a minute or two without the other on this earth.

Elise turned and walked up the path toward Arch Rock. When she reached it, she peered through the gorgeous stone toward the glittering turquoise water below. Her mother had been right. There was magic here, something that whistled through the trees and echoed from the cliff’s edge. Elise gripped the edge of the railing that overlooked the archway and felt the first of what would assuredly be many tears fall down her cheek.

“I wish I had something I wanted to wish for, Mom,” she whispered. “But all I want to wish for is to have you back. I want you to stand here with me. I want you to explain for yourself.”

Elise kept going down the path for a good while. She stretched her legs past something ominous called “Skull Cave,” paused at Fort Holmes, then continued on to Port Lookout, which offered another glorious view of the water. Elise trekked on for miles, making most of the little paths that led through the island. The hike was meditative and quiet, with only the sounds of birds and the little crisp breaks of twigs beneath her feet reaching her ears.

All that changed just past nine-thirty, when the first drop of rain splattered across her nose.

Elise hadn’t paid attention to the sky above. What had begun as a sterling-bright day had grown sinister and dark. Another droplet splattered across her forehead, then another across her cheek. She shivered and wrapped her hands over her elbows. Why hadn’t she looked at the weather? Was it because she was a California girl and accustomed to sunny and 80, nearly every single day of her life?

She supposed that was it.

Elise started to hustle. In just a few minutes, she reached Fort Mackinac from the other side and peered down at the town below. The rain grew thicker, more ominous. She unraveled her ponytail and let her blonde locks sweep freely down her back. Her tennis shoes swept across the soil. Soon, she would reach her bed and breakfast, eat her scone, dry up and relax with another cup of coffee.

As she sped down the hill from Fort Mackinac, her feet scuffed across the wet pavement. With a strange jolt, she fell forward and tore her right knee across the pavement. She hollered with alarm. Seconds later, a crack of thunder swallowed up the sound of her cries. Slowly, she dragged her leg around and blinked down at the slice in her knee. Ruby-red blood peeked out from behind her skin, joined the rain, and made heavy lines toward her ankle.

“Shoot,” she whispered.

This hadn’t been in the plan.

She inched back to standing, grabbed a nearby fence, and tried to put weight on her leg. The weight held, but the blood continued. She looked ready for a slasher film.

Blood had always panicked Elise. She pressed her hand over her mouth and willed herself to keep walking. She couldn’t move quickly; the pain was too great. This left multiple running tourists slack-jawed at the sight of her wound.

When she rounded the corner at Main Street, she caught sight of a coffeeshop with an overhang. She huddled under it for a moment. Her nose, her hair, everything was soaked; her leg was now like a fire engine.

A moment later, a man ducked out from the inside of the coffee shop, in a mad dash to bring in some of the outdoor furniture from the rain. He turned to face her.

It was the same gut-wrenchingly handsome guy from the ferry.

“Oh. Hi.” Elise felt like a complete idiot saying it.

“Hey there.” The rain beat down on his otherwise perfect hair and strung it across his forehead. “You look...” he began before his eyes traced down toward her leg. All the color drained from his cheeks.

“Come on. Get in here,” he said.

He didn’t even ask what had happened.

His immediate instinct was to take her hand and lead her into the beautiful coffee shop—Elise kind of shuffled in, embarrassed of her leg. Due to the rain, the coffee shop was filled to the brim, with tourists stuffed at tables, eating little breakfast croissants, bowls of granola and yogurt, and waiting for their lattes to cool. Elise blinked down at her hand, still wrapped tight in the strong fingers of this handsome stranger.

“No offense, but I don’t want my customers to faint,” he said with a bright grin. “Do you mind if we head to my office?”

Elise shook her head. She felt caught up in a dream. “Sorry about this,” she finally mustered, as they walked down a side hallway and entered his office.

“Don’t be sorry. Were you hiking or something?” he asked. He released her hand and marched toward the cabinets in the far corner, where he leafed around to find cotton balls, hydrogen peroxide, and bandages of all different sizes.

“I was. But now I just look like I was swimming,” Elise said, smiling at the stranger.

“Swimming, or in the middle of a big fight,” the man replied. His grin never faltered.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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