Page 6 of One Weekend On Mackinac Island

“Me too,” I whispered.

After our stop at the arch, we continued on the trail to Sugar Loaf Rock, another natural formation of rock that rose seventy-five feet into the air. Then it was time to make our way back to the Grand Hotel to meet our families for lunch.

Not wanting to stare at the back of Owen’s head the whole way, I took in the surrounding sights. Glimpses of Lake Huron’s turquoise water cut through the trees every so often. Patches of colorful flowers held me in thrall. The white three-petaled trilliums, the yellow lady slippers, and the blue forget-me-nots were scattered throughout the forest, creating a vibrant splash of color against the backdrop of lush green foliage.

Being on dry land, and not a violently rocking ferryboat, I could now see the appeal of Mackinac Island. My best friend’s choice of a wedding venue was on point. Including the current view. We stopped at an overlook, the air thick with the scent of pine, and were greeted by the sight of the sparkling water in the distance. The fresh air filled my lungs, and I felt myself finally relax, the tension of the previous day melting away.

The sudden sharp cry jolted me from my brief sense of peace, shattering it like a fragile bubble. My body jumped involuntarily, and I lost my balance, scraping my knee on the rough, unforgiving surface of the rock wall. I ignored the throbbing pain and the steady trickle of blood, as Tria cried, “Oh no! What are we going to do?”

I limped my way over to her and the rest of the group. Crouched next to Tria and Todd’s bike, Owen poked at one of the tires. It was obviously flat.

“How could they both be like that?” Tria asked. I glanced at the other tire and, sure enough, it was flat too.

“Dunno,” Todd replied. “It’s weird.” That was an understatement. I could see one tire losing air, but both? Weird was right.

“We’re gonna be late for lunch if we have to walk back,” Tria lamented, distress clear in her voice.

Oh no. I wasn’t going to let that happen. My best friend would not be upset on her wedding weekend. “Take our bike,” I suggested, indicating the blue tandem bike I’d spent the morning riding on the back of, gleefully letting Owen do most of the work.

Okay. So that might have been a little selfish of me, but he didn’t seem to mind. He also didn’t seem to mind me volunteering our bike, which would mean us having to walk the rest of the way back.

“Kat and I will walk this one back and explain to the rental place what happened,” Owen said, supporting my suggestion.

“Are you sure?” Tria, bless her heart, hesitated.

“Absolutely,” I insisted. “Go. We’ll meet you at lunch as soon as we can.”

Todd drug a still reluctant Tria over to my bike saying, “Call if you run into any trouble.”

I waved them off, and as the quiet settled in, I felt the weight of Owen's presence beside me, the only sound the soft sigh of the wind through the trees.

Chapter 4

Owen

“What do you thinkhappened to the bike?” Kat asked as we began walking. It didn’t escape my notice that she was limping slightly.

“I’m not sure,” I replied, subtly shifting our positions so I was between her and the road, my hand brushing against her lower back. While the risk of a car collision was nonexistent, I still exercised caution due to the constant flow of bikers and the occasional carriage that passed us.

“Its weird that both tires went flat,” she remarked glancing down at the ruined rubber.

“I think they were slashed,” I confessed what had crossed my mind. While I didn't want to scrutinize them too closely in front of the wedding party, my brief examination revealed a gash, seemingly made by a knife, on one of them.

Kat’s eyes widened as she quickly looked up, the surprise evident in her wide, bright gaze. “What?”

"It seemed like Scott and Stephanie were engaged in a lot of hushed conversations today. Did you notice?" I know my question was out of the blue, but I had observed them too many times today acting squirrelly.

Kat stopped walking suddenly. “You think they had something to do with this?”

“Dunno. But someone is responsible. We were alone at that overlook. It had to be someone in the party. From their history alone, they seem the most likely candidates.” Scott was an ass. Always had been. I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like this.

Her head tilted to the side as she contemplated my observation, her brow furrowed in concentration. The way her braid draped over her shoulder, a waterfall of silken blonde hair, sparked an irresistible urge in me to unravel it and run my fingers through the soft strands.

My confession at breakfast, I knew, had shocked her. I don’t know what had prompted me to tell her that. It was true. No matter where I was in the world, whenever the sun painted the sky with those golden hues, I thought of her. This morning was no different. Being able to experience the sunrise with her again for a change had been a balm to my battered soul.

The pain of losing my mother and several of my fellow soldiers was unbearable, but Kat provided a much-needed sense of solace, even if she didn’t know it.

“Okay. I hate those two as much as any of us,” she began, and a red rage flashed in my vision as I thought about the abuse she’d suffered from them over the years. Especially learning what they’d done to her on that kayak trip. “But I can’t see them doing something like this. What possible benefit could they hope to get from playing this trick?”

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