Schools began to open as late August settled onto Manitoulin, and the guests at Robertson’s Resort dwindled even more until the cabins were completely deserted. Moriah drained pipes and prepared the resort for winter. Katherine line-dried all the linens, and stored them in the laundry room on shelves that Moriah had built for that purpose. The linens were laced, for the first time, with sachets of dried lavender—something Katherine had learned from the resort in the Cayman’s where she and Nicolas had honeymooned.
Together, along with Nicolas, they turned mattresses, made certain there wasn’t a crumb of food in any of the cabins to interest mice, brought in the boats and turned them belly up to repel rain and snow.
Moriah checked each boat motor then tucked it snugly into a special bin inside the storage shed. In the past, these tasks had signaled the beginning of her least favorite season, when she and Katherine would sometimes be housebound for weeks while the snow piled up around their home. Neither Moriah nor Katherine were the kind of women who enjoyed sitting. They both went nearly stir-crazy by February every year.
This winter would probably be the same, except for one thing.
If Moriah had her way, she wouldn’t be here.
It’s warm here all the time, Moriah, and fragrant with the smell of flowers and rain. How I wish you could lie in my arms at night and listen to the sounds of the jungle moving about us.
Love,
Ben
Dear Ben
Wish I took typing in school! Nicolas showed me how to make capital letters last night. I’m slow as molasses on this thing, and there is so much to say! Jack and me and the crew only have a few more days to be finished. The lighthouse looks real good. Bob Wilson Jr. says he’ll take me up in his piper cub when I’m ready. Now that I’ve walked the bridge, I’m going out to the airport to look the plane over and take pictures of it so I can start getting used to it, too. When I can face flying without going into a meltdown, I’ll come. I want to hear those jungle sounds with you.
Love,
Moriah
Dear Moriah,
I am so proud of you, my sweet warrior. You are the bravest woman I have ever known. I love you beyond words, beyond life, beyond anything or anyone on this earth.
Your husband-to-be,
Ben
Dear Ben,
I stayed in the piper cub for an hour yesterday. Bob Jr. drove it up and down the runway and I didn’t puke but I wanted to.
Love,
Moriah
Dear Moriah McCain
(You need to get used to the sound of your new name, sweetheart. I can’t wait to hear people call you that.)
It was touch-and-go here for a while. Abraham was right. There were problems brewing. I’ve done what I could and I think things have stabilized. There is peace again between the tribes. At least for now. I feel I could leave the Yahnowa long enough to come to Manitoulin and bring back my bride. Do you have any idea when you’ll be ready to face the flight?
I’ve been thinking, if Nicolas doesn’t mind, Robertson’s Lighthouse would be my first choice for a wedding. After all, it was what brought us together. Perhaps we could have the wedding after dark? Maybe rig a beacon in the tower and put lights in all the windows?
I dream about our wedding and about being able to hold you in my arms again. I miss you so much, I have to struggle to concentrate and do my work. Hurry and conquer flying so I can have you beside me.
Your loving Ben
P.S. Keep driving up and down the runway in that plane!
Dear Ben,
I think I can rig a beacon in the tower alright. Easier than rigging myself up. ha ha. It feels funny trying on wedding dresses but they sure are pretty. I bought one today. I hope you like it.
Moriah McCain
Dear Mrs. McCain,
I can’t wait for the moment I see you in that wedding dress! You will make such a beautiful bride.
Are you also getting clothes and supplies together for the jungle? Abraham sent me a list of things Violet says you’ll need. By the way, she’s doing better. The surgeon thinks he got all the cancer. They’re doing chemo now. She and Abraham are already talking about returning, although I think it might be too soon for them to even consider it. Maybe it’s nothing more than their way of keeping hope alive. Tell Nicolas not to stop looking for someone with medical training who is willing to come. Lord knows, these people could use some help.
I can bandage a cut and hand out some antibiotics or aspirin, but that’s about it.
Love,
Ben