A Surrendered Heart (29 page)
Ellert frowned. “I would think you could dispatch other employees for such a mundane task, but I’ll not argue the point. I’m anxious to pay my account and depart.”
“I don’t think you want to consider leaving—”
“If I want your advice, I’ll ask.” Ellert nodded toward the manager’s office. “Now, I’d like to conclude our business.” He clenched his jaw and followed the manager. No wonder businesses failed nowadays. How could any establishment be expected to succeed when the hired help required constant supervision? Another affirmation that strict control must always be maintained—both in his business and personal life. He shook his head in disgust. No one could be trusted.
After examining the account in detail, Ellert pointed out several discrepancies. “You’ve charged me for an extra night on one suite of rooms and sixteen extra dinners. You’ll need to adjust the account, and then we’ll be on our way.”
The manager opened his mouth as though he might object, but Ellert pinned him with a deadly stare. He knew he was correct, and he didn’t intend to argue with a sniveling hotel manager. Ellert leaned back in his chair while the man drew a line through the objectionable charges and recalculated the balance. The manager pushed the paper across the desk. Ellert gave a curt approval and paid the sum in full.
The man stood and extended his hand. “Thank you for doing business with us, Mr. Jackson. I hope you were pleased with our services.”
A clap of thunder rumbled overhead, and Ellert pushed away from the desk. “Come on, Jonas. It sounds as though we need to be on our way.”
“I do hope you’ll reconsider your decision.” The manager glanced at Jonas. “Surely you’re aware these waters can be difficult to navigate once a storm moves in, Mr. Broadmoor.”
“Yes, of course, but I’ve been around this river for years. I can handle a skiff better than most of the young fellows who navigate the river.” Jonas puffed his chest and strutted across the room.
Such nonsense! Jonas was wavering on the brink of financial disaster, yet he still felt the need to impress a simple hotel employee. Ellert would never understand these men born to wealth. If they’d had to suffer poverty early in life, they’d be better equipped to handle their inherited wealth. Instead, they made poor decisions and worried over their social status.
The doorman offered them an umbrella, but Ellert refused. With the surging wind, an umbrella would provide little protection. A bolt of lightning illuminated the churning water as he and Jonas neared the river. He’d never been particularly fond of water, and the sight of whitecaps gave him pause.
Jonas cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted to a young man near the water’s edge. With his head bowed against the wind and holding his raincoat between clenched fingers, the boy scurried to meet them on the dock.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Broadmoor?”
Jonas pointed to a boat alongside the dock. “I want to take that skiff to Broadmoor Island.” He dug in his pocket and retrieved several coins. “I’ll see that it’s returned tomorrow morning.”
The young man maintained a tight hold on his raincoat. “I don’t think it’s safe to go out in a skiff, Mr. Broadmoor. The winds are—” A rumble of thunder drowned out the rest of the young man’s sentence.
Jonas stepped closer to Ellert. “What’s your preference? I’m willing to take to the river if you are.”
Although the journey didn’t hold much appeal, thoughts of Amanda prevailed. “Let’s go before it gets any worse. I don’t want to keep my bride waiting.”
Jonas shoved the coins into the young man’s hand with instructions to untie the skiff once they were onboard. The boy shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. You’re gonna be in for the ride of your life if this keeps up.”
Ignoring the young man’s warning, Jonas and Ellert stepped into the boat and shoved off. For a short time the winds diminished, and Jonas rowed with the vigor of a young man. They were halfway to Broadmoor Island when a low rumble sounded in the distance as if to announce impending danger. The skies had turned as black as pitch, and the wind howled with a fury that struck fear in Ellert’s pounding heart. The river swelled with angry waves, pummeling the boat like hammering fists. Lightning split the heavens, and Ellert trembled at the sight of the billowing waves. A sudden shriek of wind sent the boat in a frenzied turn, and it lurched to one side.
“We’re taking on water,” Ellert shouted. Though he couldn’t be certain Jonas heard him, he was too frightened to move. He clung to the wooden seat and hoped Jonas was in control of the boat.
The winds briefly subsided, and Ellert felt a wooden object hit his hand. “Use this and start bailing water out of the boat,” Jonas hollered.
Ellert clutched the bucket in one hand while continuing to maintain a hold on his seat with the other. The rising water had reached his ankles, and he cursed the ruination of his expensive shoes.
“I’d be worried about more than my shoes if I were you,” Jonas shouted in reply. “This storm is besting me, and you’re no help.”
“You’re the one who said you could handle a boat in any weather,” Ellert screamed. “Now I see that you are an incompetent fool in more than business matters.”
Jonas heaved the oars but made no headway in the churning waves. “This has nothing to do with incompetence, Ellert. I believe this is God’s retribution upon both of us for the wrongs we’ve committed.”
Though Ellert wanted to tell Jonas he was a fool, there wasn’t opportunity. The wind regained its fury, and a massive wave whipped the boat onto its side and the men into a swirling caldron of angry water. Waves and rain lashed Ellert from all sides. He grabbed for Jonas but couldn’t reach him. Clinging to the side of the skiff, he gasped for air as the wind ripped the wooden support from his hands. Amid the crushing waves, he thrashed at the water and fought to remain afloat. He must breathe. He must live. Amanda was waiting for him.
Sunday, August 20, 1899
Broadmoor Island
Early the next morning, bright shards of sunshine splayed across the carpeted bedroom. A splinter of light danced across Amanda’s fingers and settled on the shiny rings that now adorned her left hand. One glimpse and she sat upright in her bed. The wedding hadn’t been a bad dream. She was truly married to Ellert Jackson. With a slight jerk she checked the opposite side of the bed. The covers remained undisturbed. Ellert hadn’t come to her during the night. Had he returned late and gone to one of the upstairs bedrooms so as not to disturb her? Not likely.
Throwing back the covers, she slid her feet into a pair of soft slippers and padded across the room. Quietly turning the knob, she opened the door and peeked down the hallway. All was quiet. Not surprising considering the excitement of yesterday’s festivities and the storm that had continued throughout most of the night. Her nieces and nephews had likely been unable to sleep. After retrieving her robe, Amanda tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen.
Mrs. Atwell looked up from the flour-sprinkled board where she was preparing morning biscuits. “Good morning, my dear. I trust you had a pleasant night.”
“I slept well, thank you, but I was wondering if you’ve seen my father or Mr. Jackson this morning.”
The older woman removed the lump of dough from the crock and shaped it into a circle. “No. You’re the first family member I’ve seen today. I suppose you’re anxious to begin your wedding trip to Europe. Fanny mentioned you’d be taking the train to New York City and then sailing for a month-long tour. Sounds as though you’ll have a lovely time.” Using her forearm, Mrs. Atwell brushed a strand of gray hair from her forehead. “Veda said she finished packing your trunks last night, so you have nothing to worry about. There’s plenty of time for a good breakfast before you and Mr. Jackson depart for the train station in Clayton.”
Amanda didn’t argue. “I’m going back upstairs, Mrs. Atwell. If Mr. Jackson should appear, would you tell him I’d like a word?”
“Of course, my dear. You go on up and get dressed. Breakfast will be ready when you are.”
Amanda didn’t take time to explain that locating Ellert and her father was of greater import than eating breakfast. She rushed up two flights of stairs and down the hallway to her parents’ bedroom.
After tapping on the door and receiving no response, she turned the knob and entered the sitting room. “Mother, may I come in?”
The swish of bedcovers in the adjacent room was followed by her mother’s muffled permission. “Goodness, what time is it? I must have overslept. Why didn’t Minnie waken me?”
“It’s not yet eight o’clock.”
Concern shone in her mother’s eyes. “I do hope your wedding night wasn’t dreadful.” She glanced at the other side of the bed and suddenly appeared wide awake. “Your father must not have come home.”
“That’s why I’m here. I’ve not seen Ellert since we left Round Island yesterday. Do you think he and Father decided to remain at the Frontenac Hotel and wait out the storm?”
“That must be exactly what happened. We need to hurry and dress. We can have Mr. Atwell take us to Round Island and join your father and Mr. Jackson there. Then the two of you can go directly to Clayton.”
Her mother rang for Minnie before she hurried across the room and pulled open the door of the wardrobe. “Let me see, what shall I wear?” She glanced over her shoulder and motioned toward the door. “Hurry along, Amanda, or you’ll miss the train in Clayton. From what you’ve told me of Mr. Jackson, I doubt he’ll be happy if that should occur.”
Her mother was correct. She didn’t want to suffer Ellert’s wrath. He’d do more than pinch her cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs as soon as I’m dressed.”
“I’ll send Veda to assist you.”
Before nine o’clock Amanda was dressed and downstairs, her trunks had been loaded onto the
DaisyBee,
and Mr. Atwell was waiting at the dock. Both Fanny and Sophie had joined her to bid their final farewells.
Upon receiving the news that Ellert hadn’t returned to Broadmoor Island the previous night, Sophie grinned. “At least you were given a small reprieve. I do wish we could go with you, but I don’t think either our husbands or Ellert would grant us permission.”
Fanny giggled. “When has a lack of your husband’s permission ever stopped you?”
Sophie folded her arms across her waist and tipped her head to the side. “Paul will tell you that I have become a comforting and dutiful wife. I’m doing my best to show him how much I love him.”
Amanda leaned forward and kissed Sophie’s cheek. “I’m very proud of the changes you’re making. Paul’s a wonderful man. And so is Michael,” she quickly added. “Both of you are most fortunate, and I pray that God will continue to bless your marriages.” She swallowed hard to keep her emotions in check. She didn’t want a tearful final good-bye. “Pray that Ellert will permit me the opportunity to come home for a visit very soon. If I don’t—”
“Come along, Amanda. We don’t have time to tarry,” her mother said as she descended the stairs. “I trust Mr. Atwell is waiting for us.”
“Yes.” Amanda motioned for her cousins to accompany her, but her mother shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have time for prolonged good-byes. It’s better if Sophie and Fanny remain behind.”
“We’ll be praying,” Fanny whispered. “Please write.”
“I promise.”
After Amanda hugged Sophie one final time, her mother grasped Amanda’s elbow. “Come along, dear.”
Amanda sat at the rear of the boat and watched until Broad-moor Island disappeared from sight. A tight knot formed in her stomach. Would she ever see this place again? She had taken her life of privilege for granted. So often she had thought herself wise and savvy to the needs of others and the miseries of the world, but there’d always been the comfort of home to ease her mind. Now that was lost to her. Just as Blake was lost to her.
While Mr. Atwell steered their course toward Round Island, she stared into the clouded water. The roiling waters appeared to have turned the riverbed upside down, leaving a murky brown waterway teeming with unwanted debris in its wake. “Much like my own life,” she muttered. Ellert had stormed into her world and turned it upside down. Was the unsightly river a reflection of her future? She shivered at the thought.
Mr. Atwell cut the engine, guided the boat alongside the Frontenac Hotel’s dock, and tossed a line to a young man working at the pier.
Tying off the boat, the lad offered a quick salute. “Good morning, Mr. Atwell. Anything special I can do for you today?”
“Morning, Chester. We’ve come for Mr. Broadmoor and Mr. Jackson. I believe they must have stayed overnight at the hotel.”
The young man rubbed his jaw. “Nope. They took a skiff and left last night. Against my advice, I might add. I told ’em both they was making a mistake, but Mr. Broadmoor said he could handle the storm. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of either one of ’em since they left in that skiff.”
“You let them leave here in a skiff? During that storm?”
“I warned the both of ’em, but they wouldn’t listen. Nobody’s seen either one of them since last night?”
Mr. Atwell shook his head. “Sound the bell.”
Chester hurried across the wooden planks and yanked on the rope that hung from a large warning bell at the end of the dock. The bell clanged and echoed across the island, tolling a plea for help. The response was swift. Hotel staff and guests hastened toward the dock, but it was Blake Carstead who captured Amanda’s attention. Where had
he
come from? Had he been at the hotel during the reception last evening?
A group of men gathered around Mr. Atwell while he explained the need to form search parties. “Neither Jonas Broad-moor nor Ellert Jackson has been seen since they left this dock in a skiff during last night’s storm. We can only guess that the boat capsized, but the men may still be alive and waiting to be rescued on one of the uninhabited islands. We need to make haste and keep a sharp lookout.”
“Were they headed toward Broadmoor Island?” one of the men shouted.
“Yes, but in the storm they may have been blown off course. The Broadmoor family will greatly appreciate your assistance in the search. I plan to return Mrs. Broadmoor and her daughter to their home, and then I will join you in the search.”
While Mr. Atwell continued to organize the men, Amanda edged through the crowd until she was at Blake’s side. “I’m surprised to see you here. Were you here during the . . .”
He shook his head. “I was here on the island but stayed away from your wedding. I couldn’t have endured watching Ellert Jackson claim you as his wife. I wanted to discuss a matter with your uncle Quincy. Because of last night’s storm, I thought he’d be at the Frontenac, but the manager informed me the family had returned home during a lull in the storm.”
“All except my father and Ellert,” she said. “They remained to conclude some business matters and were to follow later. Mother and I thought . . .”
Her mother hastened toward them and grasped Blake’s arm. “Dr. Carstead. Thank goodness you’re here. Jonas may need medical attention. I fear he’ll be suffering from exhaustion. He doesn’t exercise much, and I’m certain the rowing was strenuous. You will come with us, won’t you?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll return to Broadmoor Island with you and make sure they haven’t returned, then go out with Mr. Atwell to help in the search.”
The hours moved slowly while the family awaited word of the two missing men. Amanda’s four brothers, as well as Paul and Michael, had gone out with search teams and all had now returned. Jefferson had discovered an oar and several pieces of wood floating in shallow water not far from Broadmoor Island, but they couldn’t be sure the items were from the skiff that had carried Jonas and Ellert.
“I simply refuse to believe your father isn’t safe and sound,” Victoria told the family. “He’s probably pacing back and forth on one of the islands, wondering when he’s going to be rescued. I can just see him fussing and fuming, can’t you?”
Amanda watched her mother search for some sign of agreement from the family. When no one responded, Amanda reached forward and grasped her mother’s hand. “Why don’t we go upstairs? I’ll ask Minnie to bring tea to your sitting room. Afterward you can rest.”
“Absolutely not. I’m going to be right here when your father walks into the house. I couldn’t possibly sleep until he’s home.”
“Then I’ll have Mrs. Atwell bring tea into the library. I don’t think Father would object if you had a cup of tea.”
Before she could step out of the room, her mother perked to attention. “Did I hear the front door?” Victoria jumped to her feet. “Yes! I hear voices. You see, your father
has
returned. I told you he’d be home for supper, didn’t I?” She hurried to the library door but stopped mid-step when Blake and Mr. Atwell stepped into the library. “Where is my husband?”
Blake’s eyes shone with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Broad-moor, your husband has been gravely wounded. He might not live through the day. We have him on the boat and are preparing to take him to Clayton. I thought you might wish to accompany us.”
After a wailing denial, her mother dashed for the door. “Mr. Atwell, take me to my husband.”
Amanda looked at Blake. “Did they . . . ? What of . . . ?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask.
“Ellert Jackson is dead. We found his body. We wrapped him in a blanket and are preparing to take him to the undertaker in Clayton.”
Ellert was dead. Her father might well die, too. Chaos swirled around her, yet Amanda couldn’t move. It was as if her feet were permanently affixed to the spot where she stood. Except for remaining frozen in place, she felt perfectly calm. Amid their concerns for her father’s survival, several family members stepped forward and offered condolences for the loss of her new husband.
“Such a pity to be a widow a day after your wedding,” someone said.
“You’re young; you’ll marry again,” another remarked.
Amanda couldn’t seem to comprehend all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. It seemed like a dream.
“We need to get your father to Clayton. Come on,” Blake said, pulling Amanda along.