Unwed 💍

Chapter Five: Beyond the Sea

The trip seemed to drag on after the old woman's departure. Izzy stared out of the window for hours, pondering her last words along with everything else as the never-ending forest scrolled by in front of her. Finally, the train slowed and exhaled to a stop.

With growing trepidation, she gathered up her things and stepped out of the train onto the gravel. Mackinaw station was small and nearly empty. Only a few people milled about. A slight chill had formed in the air, masked slightly by the warm sun.

"Isadora Twiss?" A man called.

She grabbed her suitcase and turned. A tall man stared down his nose at her through round spectacles. He wore a gray flannel suit and hat. In his hand he held a paper—Izzy guessed it contained her information—which gave her a queasy feeling.

"Yes, sir." She managed a small smile, as she shifted from one foot to the other, trying to avoid his piercing look.

His icy blue eyes swept over her with a look of disapproval. "My name's Mr. Finch. I've come to escort you to the Home. Come with me."

He grabbed her suitcase and hurried off, expecting her to follow. She trailed behind him, studying the landscape quietly, mostly wide open space with grass and trees. No houses anywhere, just a few shops and the train station.

Mr. Finch heaved her suitcase into the trunk of his car and slammed it down. He opened the passenger door for her. "Have a seat."

Izzy eased onto the hot leather and smoothed out her skirt, her heart thumping nervously. The door shut and he sat down next to her, turning the key. They rode for a few minutes, neither one saying a word.

"Is it far from here?" Izzy asked finally, unable to endure the awkward silence.

Mr. Finch looked straight ahead, his gray mustache moving as he spoke. "Yes, it's a good ways."

They drove on in silence. It wasn't long before the shining brilliance of the lake appeared in front of them. Despite herself, Izzy sat up in her seat, taking in the view. It was so vast, it could have been an ocean. Deep blue and stunning, with white caps cresting and rolling onto the shore. A breeze kicked up and whipped around Izzy's hair, the freshness of it soothing her skin. The cackling of seagulls filled her ears, a sound she'd only heard once before when they'd visited the lake when she was young.

"It's lovely," she said without thinking.

He gave her a sideways glance, seeming to let down his guard. "They're building a bridge to get to the upper peninsula—haven't finished yet. It'll really be something once they do. But, today we take the car ferry across. After that, there's another ferry that goes to the island."

A ways down the road they came upon a line of cars. Mr. Finch sighed. "Looks like a bit of a wait. But it's been worse."

Izzy hoped it wouldn't take long. It felt strange to ride all that way with a complete stranger—especially a man.

She eyed the paper he'd set between them.

As if he'd read her thoughts, Mr. Finch spoke, "Normally, Sister Martha comes along, but she's been ill. I don't make a practice of escorting young girls alone."

Struggling to fill the silence, Izzy pressed on. "How is it there? Are there many—girls?"

He stiffened, and she immediately regretted asking the question.

"It's appropriate for what it's intended for." His jaw tightened. "It's most certainly not a holiday."

Warmth rushed to her face from embarrassment. The line of cars inched forward ever so slowly. She folded her hands tightly in her lap, letting out a shaky breath.