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Chapter One
Elise Darby got thebriefest glimpse of her father, Dean Swartz, there at the Pontiac Trail Head. His brown eyes had this gorgeous glint to them. It was like all the secrets about her, about her mother, were tucked safely back there, away from his children and the rest of Mackinac Island.
Elise opened her lips to say something.
But what could a long-lost daughter say to the father she’d never known?
He looked at her with a vague sense of curiosity. Could he see Allison Darby’s own face, played out across her own? Oh, but he hadn’t seen Allison Darby since she’d been twenty-four years old. Elise was now forty-two. She was an aged-up version of Allison Darby, the in-between of twenty-something Allison and sixty-something Allison.
A middle-aged woman in an in-between life.
Before she could think of what to say, a carriage bolted up between Elise and her father. Elise’s horse bucked forward and clip-clopped in the direction where Wayne had disappeared. She heard her father bellow, “Hey there! How you doing?” to whoever was in the carriage.
Probably, he’d already forgotten her. She’d just been a passing tourist. Nobody at all.
Elise’s horse nearly tumbled into Wayne’s. Wayne held her gaze for a long time.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“I feel like I just saw a ghost,” Elise breathed.
“You’re the ghost, though. Aren’t you?” Wayne pointed out.
Elise knew he was right. Still, she didn’t want to face it. She rubbed her heels into the sides of the horse and cut up the path, riding as swiftly as she dared until they reached another high point, overlooking the turquoise waters. The air was perfect, with just the first crispy edge of fall. She yanked the reins slightly, and the horse stopped short. Wayne found his way beside her and made a little noise in his throat.
“You ride pretty good for a novice,” he told her under his breath.
Elise sniffed. After a long pause, she said, “I can’t believe he’s been here all this time. Just up here, overlooking the water, so far from Mom and me in California. I’ve dreamed of meeting him for years. I would watch the other girls at school with their fathers and wonder what I was missing. But when I stood in front of him just now, all I felt was fear. I hate it.”
Wayne tilted his head. “I don’t think you should beat yourself up about the fear you had. It makes sense, don’t you think? Especially after Alex broke into your room.”
“I still can’t believe that happened,” Elise said. “I don’t know how we’ll ever come back from that. All these years, I’ve wanted a sibling...”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, in my experience, siblings are meant to drive you nuts,” Wayne said, giving her a terribly handsome, crooked smile.
Elise rolled her eyes. “I hate to say it, but you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. I’m always right.”
“And arrogant! Fantastic.” Elise rolled her eyes, turned the horseback toward the Pontiac Trail Head, and leaned forward to pick up speed.
Wayne cackled behind her and followed her lead. Elise loved the feel of this: the wind rushing past her cheeks and whipping at her dark blonde curls, her eyes smarting, either from the breeze or from tears at the chaos of the day. She no longer felt like the Elise Darby she’d been back in Los Angeles.You rode a horse?She imagined Mia or Haley demanding, totally shocked.
Life was about surprising yourself.
And Elise hadn’t been surprised by anything in years.
She was grateful that, finally, she was able to feel that again—even if that surprise was lined with dread.
Elise and Wayne continued to ride, sweeping around the side of the Grand Hotel until they reached the edge of the waterline. Sunlight reflected softly across white birch tree bark, and the lake water rolled up across the dark moss that lined the beach. Elise hopped off her horse and tossed off her shoes so she could dip her toes in the edge of the water. Wayne stepped off his horse as well and stood behind her, watching the water.
“You must think I’m insane,” Elise said, mostly to the air as she extended her arms out on either side of her.
“Maybe a little,” Wayne said.
Elise chuckled. “I don’t blame you. I’ve thought it many times, too. I felt like coming all the way to this island I’d never heard of—Mackinac Island—would be a little adventure in my sad little life. I thought it might break my writer’s block, maybe give me a bit of my freedom back, help me feel like a person outside of my children, or my divorce or my career. But instead, I’ve wandered into a huge mess.”
“Do you typically make messes?” Wayne asked.
