Authors: Lorna Seilstad
Making Waves (43 page)
They migrated to an empty area in the club’s veranda. Stopping by the rail, she turned to face him, gently brushing her finger over his bruised lip. Her heart swelled. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“I’m sure your head doesn’t agree.” She placed her hand on his heart, a rush of feelings engulfing her. “But I hurt you more here.”
He covered her hand with his own. “The truth is painful sometimes. We both had a lot to learn about it.”
“Your mother’s death?”
“Was tragic, but it’s good to know she didn’t leave me.” Pain flashed in his eyes. He looked upward. “She’s up there – in your stars – watching over us.”
“My stars?” She stepped away from him, but kept hold of his hand and tipped her head to the sky. “Do you know why I like them so much?”
“Because it drives your mother crazy?”
She giggled. He knew her so well. “That too. But it’s because they always remind me of how great, how vast, God is. Nothing I do or don’t do can take away God’s love. For someone like me, that’s important.”
He kissed her gloved fingertips.
“Look! A shooting star.” She pointed at the sky.
“Make a wish.” He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
She closed her eyes, let her head fall back against his shoulder, and made her silent request. “Did you see the comet last November?”
“I think the whole city saw it.”
“It scared my mother. Especially the earth tremors afterward. She thought the world was coming to an end.”
“I’m glad she was wrong, because then I wouldn’t have met you.” He hugged her tighter. “What did you do?”
“I made a wish on it.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Laughter filled his voice. “Let me guess, big comet, big wish. Same one or different from tonight’s?”
“Same.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Then it wouldn’t come true.” She turned in his arms. “Tell me yours.”
“That hardly seems fair. Besides, how do you know I made a wish?”
“I just do.”
“Well . . .” He paused, and the look in his eyes made her shiver in anticipation. “Since I don’t believe in wishes, I’ll tell you I’ve been praying I could spend the rest of my life pulling you out of the water.”
“Wait a minute, mister. I pulled you out this time.” She stopped and her eyes grew wide. Her heart hiccuped. What was he saying?
He grinned, dimples deepening like craters. “I do believe I rendered you speechless. I think I’ll take this rare opportunity to ask you to marry me.” He cupped her face. “I love you, Marguerite Westing. I love how you make me laugh. I love your determination, and I love your spirit. I love how you make waves wherever you go. Will you fill all my days with strawberry sundaes and stars and surprises? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She blinked. He meant it. He loved her. Her heart felt like it would burst.
She cocked her head to the side and bit her lip. “On one condition.”
“Oh?”
“You let me sail with you wherever you go.”
“I think that could be arranged.”
His head dipped, and his lips, soft and gentle, grazed her own. Then, cradling her head, he deepened the kiss, filling it with passion and promise.
Her wish and her prayer had come true.
Having lived in Council Bluffs all my life, I grew up hearing about Lake Manawa and its heyday as a resort from my dad, Lester Kinney, who lived near the lake as a boy. As I researched this area, I discovered that much of the rich history would have been lost if Frank Smetana, author of
A History of Lake
Manawa
, had not interviewed those who lived or worked at Lake Manawa during the resort period. His compilation of the history was invaluable.
Many people have asked me how much of
Making Waves
is true. I explain that the characters and plot are fictional, but the setting, which is almost a character itself, was very real. Miss Fishbaugh did light herself on fire and jump from the tower into the water every night. The rich camped in tents at the lake, there was a hog farm gambling establishment that sat on the county line, and there was a Water Carnival copied after one seen at the World’s Fair.
By the late 1920s, the resort had fallen out of popularity with the elite, due in part to the clientele and workers the Midway attracted. Attendance at the park declined, and several buildings were destroyed by a series of fires and tornadoes.
In 1927, the park was closed and the last of the remaining buildings auctioned off. My grandfather purchased one of the bathhouses for three hundred dollars and moved it to a lot on what was once part of the Midway. My father and his two brothers grew up in the long, narrow bathhouse-turned-home. It was torn down only a few years ago.
Today Lake Manawa is a beautiful state park, but sadly, nothing remains of the grand pavilions, the Midway, or the boardwalk.
God has blessed me immeasurably more than all I could ask or imagine, and I am deeply grateful for the people He has placed in my life. Before any pages were filled, He gave me a risk-taking husband, David, who wouldn’t let my dream die. He then blessed us with three children, Parker, Caroline, and Emma, who understood why their mother spent hours on her computer in the freezing basement.
I also want to extend my heartfelt thanks to:
Andrea Doering for her willingness to take a chance on this story and for her belief in this series.
Judy Miller, my dear friend and mentor.
Shannon Vannatter, Brenda Anderson, Marlene Garand, and Dawn Ford for their wonderful critiques and precious friendship.
My agent Wendy Lawton for cheering me on.
Deb Garland for her sailing expertise.
My church and extended family for their prayers and support.
The Scribblers. Write or wrong, we write.
And thank you, dear reader, for taking this journey with me. May you always worship the Lord in spirit and in truth.
Lorna Seilstad
is a history buff, antique collector, and freelance graphic designer. A former high school English and journalism teacher, she has won several online writing awards and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. She lives in and draws her setting from Iowa. This is her first novel.