True Riches from Mackinac Island

Command those who are rich in this present world
not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth,
which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God,
who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.

A chance meeting on romantic Mackinac Island bring together a young woman working at the Grand Hotel on a college internship as she struggles to get through college and a helpful young man, the son of a wealthy physician who has a summer home on the island. Alison feels unworthy to pursue a friendship with someone who’s life is so different from her own simple one, but Jacob doesn’t let her resists stand in his way. Will Alison follow God’s leading and learn that being worthy has nothing to do with money or stature?

Chapter One Excerpt

"Yikes! Where in the world am I?"

Alison Kessler slowed to a stop, dug into her pocket and pulled out a map. She studied the roads and trails of Mackinac Island. As far as she could discern, she’d taken Coffee Trail rather than the Annex Road along the airport. She’d wanted to enjoy the natural setting, but now she questioned her decision. The trail seemed too rugged for a bicycle.

Calculating Custer Road would be ahead, she forced her feet against the pedals and pumped with every ounce of energy. In front of her a break showed in the trees, and with a jubilant sigh, she rolled onto Custer Road, made a right and headed downhill.

Next time she ‘d remember that the inner trails of the island were hilly and rugged, unlike the flatter roads of the outer rim. The terrain had almost been more than her unseasoned bike-pedaling legs could handle. They ached from the long incline, but now the joy of the descent wrapped around her.

Maybe it had been worth the effort. She needed exciting experiences to boost her confidence and give her a greater feeling of self-worth. Going to college on government grants and part-time jobs paled against the many students who afforded college tuition, designer clothes and new cars. She bought her clothes at the local discount store and was grateful for her bicycle.

With the wind whipping through her hair, Alison smiled into the blue sky and spread-eagled her legs away from the pedals like a child, whopping as she sped forward, but an ominous bang, like a broken balloon, started her. She swerved at the noise, and the bike veered into the weedy shoulder. She braced herself, then lost control and skidded to the ground. Thorny branches scraped against bare arms and knifed into her bike shorts.

Pressing her palms into the woody stems of brush, she braced herself against the rutted earth, righting herself. Stunned from her fall, she scanned the lonely landscape, trying to discern what had happened. Yet in her heart she knew. She lowered her gaze while her spirit deflated as flat as her front bike tire.

She looked heavenward, this time not smiling. "Okay, Lord," she said aloud, "now what do I do?"

Knowing the Lord wouldn’t appear with a tire patch and air pump, she pulled her island map from her pocket and studied it again. She had left the trail only a minute ago, so she guessed her location was somewhere in the middle of the island. She was too far from town or the Grand Hotel dorm where she lived. That meant she’d have to wait for help from someone on horseback, a carriage tour, or another cyclist to see if someone could help her. For once she was sorry the island had no motorized vehicles to come to her aid.

She eyed the brush-covered shoulder where she’d just landed and wished she could sit to wait, but the ground was rough and spiky, and she had no idea what kind of varmint might be lurking in the bushes—snacks, spiders, or mice. The sun beat on her arms, and she shifted to catch some shade from the woods that lined the road.

Alison eyed her watch, disappointed that her precious time was being wasted. Since arriving on the island earlier in the week, she’d been working at her new job at the Grand Hotel and hadn’t had a chance to explore the island. Today she had the morning free, and now she was playing the waiting game.

Her earlier plea spun through her mind, and she lowered her head. "Lord, I didn’t mean to make light of my prayer. Please, help me out of this mess." Help yourself, she thought as the amen left her lips. She looked upward, wondering if the message had come from Lord or from her own common sense.

Despite it all, Alison sensed she made the right decision to come to the island for the summer. New experiences rounded a personality. She would learn more about the hotel and hospitality business, return to the university and finish her degree. At age twenty-six, she figured it was about time.

Perspiration rolled from her hairline, and she brushed the moisture away from her face with the back of her hand. The scratch on her knee stung worse as she walked. She’d figured by now, a carriage tour would have passed with room for one more passenger and a place to lodge her bicycle. "Please," she said, again, hoping the Lord would answer her prayer.

A noise sounded behind her, and glancing over her shoulder, Alison spotted a biker wheezing down the hill toward her. He pressed the brake as he neared.

"Trouble?" A lazy smile told her he already knew the answer to his question.

She gestured toward the airless tire squashed against the rim. "Blow out."

"It’s a long walk," he said, running his fingers through his brown sun-streaked hair. The front spiked up in front, giving him a schoolboy look.

"I’d planned to ride not walk."

He folded his arms across his chest and eyed the bicycle. "Your bike? I don’t see a rental logo."

She nodded. "Cheaper that way."

"True. Where are you headed?"

"To the Grand. This is my first chance to enjoy the scenery, and now this." She gestured toward the flat tire.

"The Grand Hotel?"

From his expression, she realized he figured she was staying there. Not for four hundred dollars a night she wasn’t. "Yes, the hotel, but I’m not--"

"Looks like a bad scrape." His focus had left her face and slid downward to her knee.

"I fell."

"You need to get something on that." He pointed to the manure strewn road. "You never know--"

"I will when I get back," she said, wondering if they were going to stand there and chat all day about everything but her bike tire.

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