The Whispering Willow

Deep purple lilac bushes lined both sides of the main street of the majestic Mackinaw Island in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Mackinaw Island is a huge destination spot.

The only means of transportation on the island are on foot, horse-drawn carriages, or bikes. Motor vehicles are not allowed, and the only way to the island is by boat. 

This is lilac season, and the fragrance wafted on the light spring breeze as I stepped onto the main street.

My favorite time to come to the island is for the lilac festival held every year. Tourists stroll the streets in search of souvenirs and sweet treats from the fudge and gourmet ice cream shops. It's a unique experience and one well worth the trip. 

I booked myself three nights at an adorable bed and breakfast called The Whispering Willow.

It looked just like the online advertising, an old-fashioned, pristine Victorian-style white house with freshly painted canary yellow trim.

The walkway was lined with flowering bushes. I could hear the waves from Lake Huron splashing against the rocks.

For the first time in a very long time, I felt calm and relaxed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I still wore. Still learning how to navigate becoming a widow at 55 years old, this was my first trip alone after being married for 37 years. 

The inside of the bed and breakfast was just as warm and inviting as the outside, and I felt like I was home.

At the reception desk was a sign that read, “Please ring the bell. I will be with you shortly.”

I rang the bell and wandered around as I waited. It wasn't long before a man came through the back door.

He must have been working in the garden or flower beds, because when he took off his work gloves a small amount of soil drifted to the floor. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Antku,” he said with a booming, deep voice. “ Sorry to keep you waiting.”

I was caught a bit off guard at first. I wasn't expecting him to know who I was, but then I realized he was the owner. Of course he would know who would be checking in. 

I smiled, and he smiled back, clearing his throat. “Mrs. Antku, you are all checked in. Your room is on this floor, three doors down to the left. Room number 3. Would you like help with your bags?”

“I can manage, but thank you,” I said as he handed me the key to the room. 

“Please call me Chris,” he said. “If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. Breakfast is served from 7-10 in the sunroom. And cocktails every evening from 6-9 down by the firepit. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

I gathered my bags and went to my room. I felt Chris’s gaze but didn't turn around. With a view of the lake and the lighthouse, the room was perfect and just what I wanted.

It was only a few steps down to the firepit area, and I was looking forward to having a cocktail tonight. 

As I unpacked, my mind drifted back to the handsome innkeeper Chris. His eyes… there was something in his eyes that spoke to me.

I am an empath; I can feel people's energy. Even if they don't say what they are feeling or thinking, their body tells on them with little movements, a shift in the eyes, or a change in their body posture.

I had felt Chris’s energy shift from when he put his dirt-covered gloves down to when he looked into my eyes. His eyes had darkened and his tanned face turned slightly red. 

I didn’t remember seeing a wedding ring on his finger as I looked at the wedding ring I still wore. One never knows the secrets we keep. 

After unpacking, I decided a short nap before exploring the island would be best. I set my alarm on my phone and slipped under the soft, cool sheets. 

**********

Chris stood at the reception desk lost in thought and talking to himself. “What the fuck just happened?”

He looked down the hallway again and then grabbed his work gloves and went back outside to the flowerbeds. His mind swirled as he worked.

There was a memory just at the edge that he couldn’t quite grasp hold of. 

He had felt the shock of recognition when he looked into her eyes, but she didn’t seem to recognize him. Was it her perfume? Her voice?

He touched the dog tags that he wore. The cool metal calmed his racing heart. “Just finish the task at hand, Ranger,” he chided himself. 

**********

Meanwhile, as I slept, my mind wasn’t letting me rest. My body was jerking, and I could hear myself talking, but couldn’t wake up.

Flashes of light burst before me, smoke burned my throat, and screams filled the air. I jerked so hard that I woke myself. The dream quickly faded, but my ragged breathing took a few minutes to ease back to a normal rhythm. 

I shook my head and willed my hands to stop shaking. I heard the waves from the lake, and my alarm beeped. “Stop it, Wendy,” I said. “Just fucking stop it.”

It was nearly 5 pm when I stepped out of the inn. I was starving and didn’t want to be alone. Since the B&B supplied bikes to use while on the island, I picked one with a big white basket on the front and was on my way.

I rode to The Pink Pony, one of the most famous restaurants/bars on the island, known for its lively music, great-tasting food, and the best views.

The place was crowded, but I was escorted to a small table outside on the deck. Not embarrassed by being alone, I let the energy of the other guests wash over me. Their happiness and excitement helped soothe me. 

Soon I was singing along to the karaoke songs being sung by the other patrons. And, after a few Pink Pony margaritas, I was feeling no pain.

I was thinking about ordering one more when the waitress brought me another one. 

She set the drink down. “The gentleman at the bar would like to join you, if that's okay?” She pointed at the gentleman, who nodded his head.

I smiled and nodded back. I watched as he came through the crowd of people. He had an aura of shimmering purple light around him. 

The crowd parted for him, not because of his imposing stature, but because, without realizing it, they sensed his aura as well. When he got to my table, my insides were shaking.

Our eyes held each other. He spoke first. “Thanks, Mrs. Antku, for allowing me to join you.” 

“No,” I said. “Thank you for the drink, Chris, and please call me Wendy. I'm a widow.” I watched him as he sat down and took a long pull of his drink. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said, feeling very shy all of a sudden. I took a sip of the drink to calm my nerves. We sat looking at each other because the music was too loud to talk over. 

We finished our drinks just as the music ended for the night. As people started to leave, I stood up and nearly tumbled forward when I was bumped from behind.

Chris caught and held me until I regained my balance. When he touched me, I heard the sounds again in my head, saw the lights exploding, and smelt the aroma of burning metal. 

I felt faint. Seeing the color drain from my face, Chris sat me down on the chair and quickly went to the bar for a glass of water. 

“Wendy, here, take a sip,” he said. His voice was kind, yet urgent. His hand shook as he held it to me. 

I took the sip, but my hand was shaking so badly that I nearly spilled it. I felt nauseous. 

“Wendy, can you stand?” Chris said.

I took a deep breath. “Yes. I'm fine. I borrowed one of your bikes. I'll ride it back.”

“No, just leave the bike. I'll get a carriage to take us back.” He wasn't asking. 

He put his arm around me and guided me through the crowd out into the warm night. I began to feel better as we sat on a bench waiting for the carriage to pick us up.

Chris, a perfect gentleman, sat close but didn't touch me. 

Soon we heard a horse trotting and saw the carriage come around the corner. Chris helped me up and sat close to me. He had on a familiar cologne, but I couldn't remember the name.

Again, I felt a connection to him.

We rode in silence, both of us lost in thought. The only noise was that of the carriage and the horse. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the carriage stopped at the B&B.

Chris paid the driver and helped me down. 

“You are my knight in shining armor,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. 

“No, my lady, just an old broken-down soldier,” he said with a tone of softness. 

We walked inside the B&B, and he walked me to my room. 

“Thank you again, Chris,” I said. “I guess I drank too much.”

He smiled. “I’m glad I was there to help.” 

I opened my door and he walked away. 

There is something magical about Mackinaw Island. When there, I feel more grounded and centered. The air just smells fresher.

After a while in my room, I began to feel like I wanted to take a swim in the lake. 

I wanted to go skinny dipping, but I decided against it and put my swimsuit on instead. The water was cold against my skin, so I only waded out to my thighs.

The Moon was bright with its reflection shimmering on the calm water.

The cold water made my nipples hard and achy, reminding me that I missed the touch of a man, missed the feeling of being small and protected, missed feeling his manhood harden under my touch and knowing he wanted me as much as I wanted him. 

I walked into deeper water. It had been years since I felt lips on my tits or fingers softly touching my clit. My heart pounded; I was so horny. I touched my clit; it was hard, and I rubbed and rubbed until I felt the surge of electricity deep inside my pussy.

I held back the scream, but I stood shaking as the orgasm waves rippled through me.

I walked back to the beach, put my robe around my freezing body, and went into the B&B. 

**********

Chris smoked a cigarette silently in the darkness and watched Wendy. At first, just to make sure she didn't drown.

But, as he watched, he saw that she was pleasing herself. He felt his cock grow hard, and he wanted to touch it, but he enjoyed the feeling of getting hard without any help from porn.

He saw Wendy throw her head back, and at the moment she came, his cock squirted. 

He took another long drag of his cigarette. Still, in the back of his mind, he knew her from somewhere, but when and where? He was still trying to figure it out. 

**********

The next morning, the sun was shining. It was warm and a perfect day to ride into town and do some shopping. I had dressed in a pink summer milkmaid dress and, for more modesty while riding a bike, wore a pair of shorts underneath. 

I parked the bike, took a picture of the location, and set off. I didn't have an agenda, so I strolled through many different shops. I bought a few T-shirts, a couple of pieces of jewelry, and a few different flavors of fudge. 

I stopped for lunch at a sub shop. I bought an extra one, had it wrapped to go, then found my bike and headed back to the B&B. I parked the bike and went in search of Chris. 

Shirtless, he was out back cutting the grass. I knew he was handsome, but, damn, with no shirt on, he was beyond gorgeous. I couldn't take my eyes off him. He turned a corner, saw me standing there watching him, and shut the mower off.

He wiped his face and came over. I hoped I didn't look like a weirdo standing there with a sub sandwich bag and a bottle of water in my hand.

Chris smiled. His white teeth against his tan face nearly made me forget my name. My body ached to be under his, to feel his weight on top of me. Fuck, I was so horny! 

“I brought you a sub,” I blurted out, embarrassed by my desire for him. I handed him the bag and the drink. 

He took the lunch, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Thank you, Wendy,” he said. “That was so sweet.”

“It's not much, but I wanted to thank you for last night. I'm not much of a drinker. I let it get the best of me.” 

“How about you join me? I'll put the mower away so we can sit in the air conditioning and talk.”

“I'd like that,” I replied. “I’ll go freshen up and meet you inside.”

I went back to my room, washed my face, added some makeup, and put on fresh perfume. After ten minutes, I met Chris in the breakfast room. Sadly, he had put on a shirt, but he was still just as sexy. 

We sat and made small talk, eventually running out of things to say. We sat in silence as he finished his lunch, with both of us searching for something to fill the space. 

“Wendy,” he said at last. “There's something I’ve been wanting to ask you but didn't know how to.” 

I sat forward. “Go ahead.” I was very interested in what he had to say. 

“I know this is going to sound crazy, but I have this strong feeling we have met before. I can't put my finger on it. But I feel it.” His eyes searched mine. I felt his gaze deep in my soul. 

Suddenly, my mind cleared, and I saw him, not as the man in front of me, but as a young soldier wheeled in on a gurney and delirious from pain. He had reached for my hand. “Don't let go,” he had begged. “Please hold my hand.” 

I’d held his hand until the moment when the medicine hit his veins and his grip on my hand relaxed. The surgeon went to work. After surgery, he was transferred to another section of the hospital, and I was transferred out soon after. 

In shock, my mouth opened. “Oh my goodness,” I said. “I knew I felt a connection with you. I don't remember the year, but you came into the hospital at Fort Bragg. You had a huge kidney stone.”

Chris, lost in thought, searched my eyes with his. “Yes! That's it. I remember looking in your eyes. And you held my hand and told me not to worry.” 

We both smiled. We reminisced until the afternoon sun faded into a bright blue moon. I stifled a yawn around 2 am. 

“Wendy,: Chris said. “Let's get you to bed. Once I start talking about the Army, I don't know when to stop.”

“I am getting tired,” I said, groaning as I stood, stiff from sitting for so long.

Chris walked me to my door. We stood there, not knowing what the other was feeling or thinking. Then, in a whisper, Chris asked if he could kiss me. I shook my head yes. He put one arm around my waist and pulled me close. I felt soft against his hard body. We looked into each other’s eyes, and then he kissed me. 

My whole body hummed. He felt something as well, because he wrapped his other arm around me and pressed my body against his even harder. My nipples got hard and poked through the thin fabric of my blouse. His hand reached for a nipple as he kissed me. 

I moaned as he found my aching nipple. He caressed me and kissed me even deeper. Our tongues played together, tasting and savoring the moment. Then a bell rang at the door.

Another guest was returning from a day of exploring the island. Like two guilty teenagers, we parted. I fumbled to open the door while Chris tried to hide the huge bulge in his shorts. 

“Well, Chris,” I said in barely a whisper and out of breath. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chris pulled himself together much more quickly. “Wendy, would you like to spend the day with me tomorrow?”

In my eyes, he looked sexy and a bit bashful. “I would love to,” I said. 

“Great. I will see you around 10 am then. Goodnight, Wendy.” He returned to the lobby to greet the guests. 

I went into my room. I felt hot, and my legs were weak. I had never been kissed like that, and feeling his lust and desire had rocked me to my core. 

So excited to be going on a date with Chris, I was up, showered, and dressed before my alarm went off. I felt truly alive again.

The weather was perfect, with a bright blue sky and a soft, warm breeze coming off Lake Huron. I couldn’t sit still. I felt like a young girl waiting for her first date to pick her up.

I heard a knock and opened my door. Chris was standing there, looking so sexy. We looked at each other for a moment, and then he pulled me in for a deep, tongue-touching kiss. 

My pussy contracted, and I moaned. I didn’t want it to end, but our need for air brought us back to reality. 

I was captivated by his strong, masculine energy. He was dressed in a pair of black shorts and a bright blue athletic shirt.

The color of the shirt brought out the flecks of blue in his hazel eyes. I loved how hairy his chest and arms were. Everything about him turned me on. And his cologne doubled the attraction I. 

Chris smiled as he took in my outfit. Then he took my hand, and we started our date. 

We had breakfast sitting outside and watching the large shuttle boats coming in and out of the docks. The conversation was easy and light. He talked about how he ended up buying the B&B, about how it was the best decision he had ever made.

He had grown up in Pontiac and did many jobs as a young man before joining the Army. His ticket to the world, he never looked back. He had traveled and lived more than most people would ever dream of. He saved his money and invested it for his future, hoping to one day settle down with a family of his own. 

He had married and had a daughter, and life was good until it wasn’t. The Army was his priority. He tried being a good soldier and husband and father, but there weren’t enough hours in the day or enough of him to go around.

His wife wanted more than he could give, and, eventually, they divorced. He finished his last tour of duty, retired, and spent a year traveling alone. Then, as the autumn leaves started to fall from the trees, he had taken a ferry ride to Mackinaw Island.

He was wandering the mostly empty Main Street when he stopped in front of the for-sale B&B. 

He knew at that moment that this house was where he could find his peace. He called the realtor, and a few short weeks later, he was the new owner. Over the next two years, he poured all his energy into the white Victorian four-story house.

When he was finally happy with it, he opened it as a bed and breakfast. 

He had hired a chef to handle the food service side, a full-time housekeeper, and a full-time front desk assistant. He’d also hired a part-time groundskeeper named Thomas, but Thomas didn't work for him any longer. 

I enjoyed hearing his story. Chris took my hand, paid the bill, and we strolled for hours through the shops of the island. He never let go of my hand. 

I was floating! The day was perfect. 

In the afternoon, we returned to the B&B, but neither of us wanted the date to end. We stood looking out at the lake and the boats rocking gently in the distance. 

Chris broke the silence first. “Wendy, I hope I’m not being presumptuous. I made dinner reservations for tonight at the Grand Hotel. It’s formal night. I should have asked you first.”

“Oh,” I said. “That sounds fun. I have a dress. It’s 4 pm now. What’s your plan?”

He smiled and kissed me. “I have a few projects to do. I need to grab my tallest ladder and change a few lights in the gables and install a new ceiling fan. Should only take me an hour or two.”

He winked at me. I smiled. We decided he would get me at 7:30 and we would take a carriage ride to the hotel. I went back to my room to relax before I needed to get ready. I was thinking about Chris, the B&B, and how happy I was. 

After an hour nap, I started putting my outfit together. I had packed an off-the-shoulder, midnight blue, floor-length sundress with a long slit up the leg and a pair of sling-back kitten heels. I wore my hair down. I felt sexy. 

My heart raced when Chris knocked on my door. I opened it to see him standing there with one long rose in his hand. He was dressed in gorgeous blue suit pants, a white dress shirt, and a suit coat. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Simply gorgeous, he looked like a man in a magazine. 

He handed me the rose and kissed me. “Wendy, you look beautiful.” 

I smiled shyly. “Thank you. You look dashing, Christopher.” He gave me his hand and we walked out to the waiting horse and carriage. 

Breathtaking with its classic charm and elegance, the Grand Hotel on Mackinaw Island is what most people travel to see. We strolled the huge sun porch, drank a cocktail while sitting on white rocking chairs, and enjoyed a multiple-course dinner in the grand ballroom. 

Then, as the dessert course was being served, a man approached our table.  Chris looked at him but didn't say anything. The hair on my arm stood up. I didn't know whose energy I was feeling, but it wasn't pleasant. 

“Tom,” Chris said. The man turned to me and extended his hand. Being polite, I put my hand in his. He kissed the back of my hand. 

His voice was deep. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Thomas. And you, lovely lady, are?” He still held my hand.

“Wendy,” I said as I pulled my hand back. 

Thomas smiled. “Please save me a dance, Wendy, and winked.” He turned and left without even looking at Chris. 

I didn't know what had just happened, but I could feel there was bad blood between Chris and Thomas.

I wouldn't find out what until much later. 

Chris took my hand into his, not for my comfort but for his. He was calming himself down. He took a drink of his whisky. “The band will start soon. Let's go for a walk.” 

He led me out of the ballroom, into the lobby, then outside. We walked the grounds of the hotel. We found a bench near the flowering lilac bushes. It was secluded and private, or so we thought.

Thomas was lurking in the shadows, following us. 

I shivered. Though the night was warm, the dark energy made me shiver. Chris put his arm around me, pulling me into him. I relaxed. 

“Wendy,” he said. “I need to kiss you.”

I snuggled closer. His hand went into my thick, long hair and he brought my mouth to his. All thoughts stopped when his hand touched my breast and teased my nipple into a hard peak. I moaned into his kiss as he pulled my tit. I whimpered, and the kiss deepened. 

Sexual energy whipped around us like a summer wind. We both snapped out of the euphoria when a rock hit Chris in his back. “What the fuck was that?” Chris said.  

Glancing around, he picked up the rock that had hit him. We couldn't see anyone, but the rock didn't throw itself. “Must have been some kids,” Chris said. But he didn't look like he believed that. 

The band had just started to play when we went back into the ballroom. We found a corner booth where it was dark and private.

Chris had a menacing look in his eyes, but he relaxed after a few minutes. We held hands and touched as the band played and couples danced.

We had just finished a slow dance and were walking back to the table when Thomas stepped in front of us. He held out his hand to me. “My turn,” he said. Chris tightened his grip. Thomas and Chris locked eyes, but Chris let my hand go. 

Thomas whisked me onto the dance floor. He was built differently from Chris and I felt awkward in his arms, but I always try to be friendly and polite. 

He pulled me in closer, and I could feel his cock pressing against me. He moved his hand down my back to my ass, which made me uncomfortable.

Then he leaned down and smelled my hair. That was so creepy! 

“My cock is big and thick,” he whispered in my ear. “I can make you cum and squirt. Come home with me?”

I felt nauseous, and the room started to spin. I heard Chris. “Wendy, I have you.” He pulled me away from Thomas and guided me through the hotel to the porch. The night air calmed me and the wave of nausea went away. 

Chris held me as we waited for the carriage to take us back to the B&B. We didn't talk. I was embarrassed and worried that Chris was mad at me for dancing with Thomas.

He still held my hand, though, greeted the night clerk at the desk, and guided me through the lobby to his private rooms. 

They looked like I had imagined. Masculine, clean, and sexy. He gave me a tour that ended in the bedroom. I wanted him. He wanted me. Simple, easy, uncomplicated sexual desire. 

Clothes came off. We cuddled naked, softly touching and caressing each other. I stroked his already hard cock.

It felt so soft on my fingers. His hands played in my hair, and he pulled me to him. We kissed, then he found my nipple. He tugged and sucked until it was hard before moving on to the other side. I held his head against me as he sucked. 

His hand slid down my chest and between my thighs. I moaned when his finger slipped inside my pussy. 

“Baby,” he whispered. “You’re hot and so wet.” 

He rubbed my growing clit in little circles, squeezing it, then he pushed two fingers deep inside me while simultaneously sucking on my tit. My pussy spasmed around his fingers. “I’m going to come,” I moaned. 

I squirted, drenching his fingers deep inside me. He pulled his wet fingers out and held them to my mouth. As I sucked them clean, his eyes never wavered. 

I wanted to taste his cock. I moved between his legs and took his cock in my hand, looked him in his eyes, and swallowed him. He pulled my hair aside to watch me make love to his cock. 

Tight, wet, and willing, my mouth moved up and down over and over. His cock dribbled and I rubbed it in. He closed his eyes, lost in the moment. I pushed my huge breasts around his cock and let him titty fuck me.

His big, strong hands squeezed my tits around his dripping cock. I moaned and sucked as his cock slid up and down between my tits. 

“Baby,” he groaned. “Where do you want my cum?”

“Spray my tits,” I begged. “Let me see you come.”

Moments later, Chris pumped his white, hot load all over my tits. I rubbed it in and snuggled next to him until we both drifted off to sleep. 

A few hours later, I woke up to my legs open and my pussy being enjoyed. Panting and shaking, I came multiple times, and only then did Chris stop long enough to push his engorged cock inside my pussy.

Slowly, sensually, completely, he made love to me until he came inside me, filling me with his seed. 

Drained, we fell asleep. Hours later, I was woken with a kiss on the lips and fresh orange juice and a toasted bagel. 

“Gorgeous,” Chris said. “I need to do some business and some maintenance on the roof. Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll be busy most of the day, so go into town. I’ll cook us dinner tonight.” With a kiss, he was gone. 

A few hours later and after a hot shower, I decided to explore the island some more. I took a bike and rode the bike route around the island, stopping here and there to take in the scenery.

I was daydreaming and not paying attention to my surroundings when Thomas, driving a carriage, stopped right behind me. 

He looked big and menacing. His energy was dark, lustful, jealous.

I smiled. “Hi,” I said and got on my bike. 

Before I could go, Thomas gripped my arms and held me against him. He pressed his mouth to mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth and groping my breast hungrily. I tried pulling away, but he was too strong. 

“Chris doesn’t get you,” he said in an angry voice.

“I need to go, Thomas. It’s going to rain.” I turned to leave. 

“Wendy, give me a chance. You’ll see. I’m better than Chris.

I jacked off last night thinking about fucking you. Let me taste your sweet, creamy pussy.

Please, I’m begging you. Just a taste. Right here. I want you! Please!”

“What’s this obsession you have with Chris? I’m sure it has nothing to do with me. Wait… you’re jealous of him.” I said, realizing too late I’d said too much. 

Thomas picked me up and tossed me into the wagon. The bike was abandoned on the side of the road.

**********

Chris finished his business and did the maintenance on the roof. But, as time went by, he began to get concerned because Wendy hadn’t returned to the Whispering Willow.

A few more hours went by, and now, certain Thomas was involved, his blood burned cold in his veins. He saw red. 

He had a friend, Ben, a former Marine now in the police force, and who knew the history between Chris and Thomas. Chris called him. 

What Chris hadn’t told Wendy was that Thomas was a former Army Ranger who had served with Chris and his former brother-in-law.

He blamed Chris for his sister's eating disorder, that eventually took her life. Obsessed with Chris, seeing him happy with a woman had pushed Thomas over the edge. 

Thomas lived in a small house near the horse stables. Ben and Chris snuck around the house, which was dark inside with no lights on. Chris felt anxious, but he let his years of being an Army Ranger take over.

He listened, calmed his breathing, and surveyed the landscape. Thomas was a Ranger as well. This wouldn't be easy. 

They entered the house, but it was empty. At the stable, they found the wagon and the horse gone. Chris spotted a piece of paper nailed to the horse stall.

It read “Fuck you, OG-2,” and Chris and Ben both knew this had just gotten deadly serious. That was Chris’s call sign. 

The island is five miles long, but knowing they could have left by boat on Lake Huron gave Chris a wave of fear. Ben took out his radio and called in a code red: all hands report to the police station. No time was wasted.

The state police in St. Ignace got on the case, and a helicopter was in the air searching both the island and the lake within thirty minutes. A forensic team arrived at Thomas’s place a few hours later. 

Chris focused on the task, keeping the noise going on all around him in check. The bad blood between him and Thomas had nothing to do with Wendy. He had tried for years to get Maggie help for her eating disorder, but nothing Chris did was ever enough. In the end, Maggie overdosed on diet pills.

Thomas blamed Chris for taking his sister away. Now it was his turn to take a woman away from Chris. 

The local townspeople gathered at the police station. Search parties were formed. Every available resource was being utilized. 

**********

I woke up with a searing migraine, disoriented, and exhausted. I had no idea where I was, but could see boats in the harbor. I was still on the island.

Thomas, sitting by the opening, was passed out drunk. He had tied my hands in front of me and then started drinking. 

It was clear to me he didn’t have a plan. All he had was his hatred for Chris. As he drank, he told me about his sister. How, after the divorce, she got hooked on diet pills.

How it was all Chris’s fault. When he saw me and how much happier Chris was, he snapped. 

He wasn’t going to watch Chris get happiness while he mourned his little sister. 

I was terrified, but I was hopeful that Chris was looking for me. Hours passed, and I heard a helicopter circling overhead. Then I heard horses and people yelling my name. 

Stiff from the cold ground, I stood and hobbled to the opening of the cave. “I’m here! Here! Over here.”

Thomas woke, threw his whiskey bottle, and lunged for me. But it was too late. Two police officers had me behind them, and two more grabbed Thomas and threw him to the ground.

Within minutes, Chris rode in on a four-wheeler. He walked over to Thomas and punched him in the face, starting blood gushing from his nose. 

Chris gathered me in his arms and took me to the Whispering Willow. A news conference was held, and soon the island was quiet again.

Thomas was booked on kidnapping charges and transported to St. Ignace. 

Chris and I spent the next few days either in bed or snuggled on a blanket watching the boats coming to and from the island. We made love many times. 

The Whispering Willow is my new home.