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A Summer at Thousand Island House

By Susan G Mathis

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Chapter 1
Thousand Island House
Alexandria Bay, NY
Summer, 1885

Addison Bell breathed a quick prayer as she grasped the door handle to enter the Thousand Island House’s recreation pavilion. “Please, Lord, may this summer change my life.”
She froze, a tiny tremble of her jaw betraying her resolve to be strong. What would the future hold for her at such an opulent place? Such a foreign establishment? A three-story building dedicated to nothing but recreation?
For her, a simple farm girl and one-room schoolhouse teacher from Watertown Center, this seemed unconventional, eccentric even. Yet now, here she was at the most celebrated hotel in Alexandria Bay, perhaps in all the Thousand Islands—late for work on her first day.
Before she had the chance to pull herself from her ponderings and enter the pavilion, someone pushed open the door she still held, sending her flying onto her backside, skirts flapping in the breeze. Her arms and legs flailed like an octopus out of water. Her carpetbag went flying, too. Right into the path of a stalwart gentleman. Her eyes traveled from his toes to his nose. A Naval officer, of all people.
The man tripped over her bag but somehow kept his balance. Then he turned to her with a furrowed brow as he reached for her hand, concern marring his handsome face. “Are you all right, miss?”
“Yes, thank you, sir. I’m sorry I tripped you up.” A nervous giggle slipped out as she accepted his hand, her cheeks burning at the thought of her buffoonery.
The officer tugged her to her feet, and she furiously smoothed her skirts about her. Her well-worn straw hat flopped to one side, dangling precariously over one eye. She righted it as best she could, ignoring the pins poking into her scalp. She must look affright.
“I am the one who must apologize for opening the door and sending you aloft.” He paused for a moment and tipped his hat. “Lieutenant. Maxwell Worthington of the U.S. Navy.” He clicked his heels before snapping a quick nod her way. “At your service, miss.”
Addi curtsied low and sucked in a steadying breath. Then she pasted on a smile. “Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant, but I must be on my way. I’m late as it is.”
“Hurry then, and farewell for now.” Lt. Worthington picked up her bag and handed it to her.
“Thank you, sir. Good day to you.”
Addi regathered her nerve and turned to enter the pavilion. A man stood before her, his title of manager boldly proclaimed on his name tag.
He snapped a concerned glance at the retreating lieutenant and then at her. “Servants should enter at the back, miss. I’ll excuse the mishap this once. Aye, both mishaps.”
Addi blinked. A hint of Irish floated on the man’s words, making them sound like a melody to a faraway tune, even as he scolded her. In public.
“Mr… Mr. Donovan?”
Her words squeaked out as if she were a tiny child. She swallowed her angst, straightening her shoulders to regain some semblance of professionalism.
The man nodded, an almost imperceptible smirk appearing then fading fast. “Aye, one and the same. You’re late. Let’s get you settled.”
Addi’s nerves got the better of her, and her tongue took flight. “I’m sorry I’m tardy, sir. The horse threw a shoe on the way here, and the wagon went into the ditch, and Mr. Stevens didn’t know what to do, but then a farmer helped us out, but …”
Mr. Donovan held up his hand to stop her chattering but cast her a kind smile. He took the carpetbag from her and motioned for her to enter the pavilion. “It’s all right, miss. This is your day to settle in and prepare for the rest of the summer. You’ve no children waiting.”
“Thank goodness.” Addi sighed loudly, adjusting her teetering hat.
Once inside, Mr. Donovan paused in the foyer and tipped his head, assessing her from her still teetering hat to her scuffed boots. “Aye, this is the Thousand Island House recreation pavilion, where you will spend the next several months caring for our patron’s children. I must say, your recommendation was quite glowing, especially from my crotchety old friend, Alvin Sanderson. But I didn’t expect someone so young to be so accomplished, and from Watertown Center?”
“I’m twenty-four, sir. I’ve taught up to eighteen children concurrently for the past five years. All ages. All temperaments. And I have to tell you that some of those students, especially the older ones, gave me great consternation. But I overcame their podsnappery with determination and grit.” Addi stood as tall as her small frame would rise and lifted her chin.
Mr. Donovan chuckled, wiping the mirth away with the sweep of his hand. “Your enthuzimuzzy is commendable, miss, but quite unnecessary. The former nursery teacher in your position, Mrs. Randolph, barely got off her perch ‘cept when it was a matter of life and death. Nevertheless, the parents and children appreciated her grandmotherly ways.”
Addi harrumphed, and a small snicker escaped her lips. “I, sir, am not a grandmother, and I believe children are to be given all the fullness of experiences available. Music. Dance. Sports. Nature. Games. Play. And a good dose of God.”
“Blathers! You misunderstand. We didn’t hire you to teach school. You’ll be caring for four-to-seven-year-olds. Mere babes out of diapers.” Mr. Donovan sucked in a breath.
“Oh, I don’t plan to drill them in the three R’s.” Addi shook her head. “I simply want to expose them to a wealth of experiences while they’re under my care.”
He stared at her with knotted brow, chewing on his full bottom lip as he studied her—and she him. A generous dollop of Morgan’s pomade had to be keeping his curly dark hair in place, else his abundant locks would cover his strong forehead. A full head taller than herself, his square chin and high cheekbones reminded her of royalty, yet his demeanor cast a welcoming, friendly air, even when he frowned.
She stood her ground and turned her attention to the pavilion signs just beyond them—Game Room, Billiard Room, Bowling Alley, Children’s Nursery, Men’s and Women’s Bathing
Room, Swimming Pool, and Dancing Pavilion. The choices made her head swim. How could one choose from such lavish entertainments?
Mr. Donovan must have seen her dismay, for he began a tour without addressing her prior comment. “This is the recreation facility exclusively for our hotel patrons, though some esteemed visitors not staying at the hotel still come here now and then. As you can see, we have the most modern facilities for entertaining those on summer holiday. Upstairs are various game rooms, mostly for men, which you do not need to see. There are also a grill and garden roof where we host afternoon teas. And more.” He waved a hand, motioning the end of the quick tour. “This way to the children’s nursery, miss.”
Mr. Donovan led her down a long hallway. Near the end, he opened the door to a large classroom. “I must admit that your high-minded notions on child care surprise me. The hotel provides abundant means of children entertaining themselves. Tin toys. Puzzles. Books. And this large room with an ensuite water closet. As far as your duties, you are required only to keep the children safe and quiet.”
“Dear me.” Addi moaned, putting her hand to her chest. “I don’t intent to be a jail warden or a prison guard. And I do not adhere to the motto, ‘children are to be seen and not heard.’ I believe youngsters are like beautiful flowers that are to be nurtured and watered and allowed to blossom and grow into the creatures of beauty God created them to be. I cannot abide stifling their innate curiosity to learn and grow. I must reinforce it.”
Mr. Donovan took a step back, slapping his chest in mock shock. “Blathers! I’ve hired a radical! Still, you know children better than I, so I will concede to your plans.”
“Please, sir. I am not a radical, nor do I mean to impute your idea of child care, merely to enhance the summer experiences for these little ones.” Addi curtsied, humbling herself before her employer.
He chuckled and set her bag on a nearby table. “I understand, but if you deem it necessary to employ your unique ideas, you must get permission from each of the parents to undertake such modern methods. I fear they will view you as merely a babysitter, not a teacher extraordinaire.”
“I will, sir. Thank you, sir.” Addi clapped her hands, joyful that she’d won the first battle.
She’d won, but surely there’d be more skirmishes in the days to come.

~ ~ ~

Liam Donovan shook his head at the strange and lovely lass he’d hired and left in the nursery. Aye, her tongue took to chattering faster than a house-wren’s song, but her excitement for teaching children was unmistakable and quite refreshing. Old Mr. Sanderson hadn’t warned him of that. Nor how beautiful she was with her rich, chocolate brown hair and big, bright eyes warm as melted chocolate, and her captivating smile. Blathers! That smile nearly made him go weak at the knees. Then, when she prattled on about her modern methods, it took everything in him not to fawn over her. Yet, as manager of the hotel’s recreation pavilion, he had to keep his wits about him.
“Get a hold of yourself, Liam!”
He stopped cold in his tracks upon hearing his own voice.
“Did you say something, sir?”
Melvin Olson stared at him with veiled amusement. A year ago, the older children’s recreation leader and former baseball star had shattered his arm, forever ending his promising career in the sport. Now, he faithfully occupied the eight-to-fourteen-year-old children while their parents were otherwise enjoying a life of leisure.
Liam shrugged, raising his palms to the ceiling then quickly shoving them in his pockets. “Nothing, Mel. Have you any troublemakers in your group of late?”
Melvin popped his gum. “None I can’t control. Five silly girls who only want to gossip and talk about boys, and six rambunctious boys who are happy to try to outwit or outrun one another. Easy as batting five hundred.”
The lad always referred to baseball, but he was good with kids, and that was what mattered. “Have you enough to keep them busy?”
Snap. “Always. The House provides plenty. Thanks for scheduling them for bowling and swimming once a week. It’ll be the highlight of their time here, without a doubt.” Melvin smacked his gum as if he were punctuating his sentence. “Did the nursery teacher arrive?”
“Yes. She’s in her room getting settled. I’ll introduce her later.”
“Fair enough. Better get back to those rascals. Thanks, sir.”
Melvin took his leave with another annoying pop and snap and crack of his gum. The lad was never without his Adams New York chewing gum. Worse than a smoker.
The habit irritated Liam to distraction. Not only was it uncouth and distracting, but it was also a bad habit to model to children. Moreover, a Thousand Island House employee needed to maintain the utmost decorum. Yes, he’d have to talk to him about it—sooner rather than later. Still, habits die hard, and he couldn’t afford to offend him and be without a children’s worker right now.
As Liam returned to his desk, Miss Bell’s pretty face swept back into his thoughts. Was she as bubbly and vivacious as she appeared, or was it just nerves? His Tina had been like that at first, too, but she gradually withdrew until she’d broken his heart with a rather cold rejection of his marriage proposal. Then, she agreed to marry him after all but only days later, left him for his best friend. Aye, well …
After addressing several management situations around the pavilion, Liam decided to check on his newest employee and get her settled in the women’s dormitory. He knocked on the classroom door and entered, finding the kitchen maid, Gert, delivering a tray.
“I was told you had six children, plus yourself. Now look at the food that will go to waste.” Gert’s tone was icy. Harsh even.
Liam cleared his throat to announce his arrival. “My oversight, miss. I should’ve sent word the children wouldn’t be present today. That wasn’t Miss Bell’s responsibility. She just arrived an hour ago.”
Gert’s pudgy face turned red as a ripe tomato, but her tone turned syrupy sweet. Like it always did when she spoke to him and batted her bulgy eyes. It made his stomach clench every time. “Oh, Mr. Donovan. I didn’t hear you enter. It’s all right. We can add the jam sandwiches to our staff luncheon.” She set a wrapped sandwich on the table and glared at Miss Bell. “I’d better get back to the kitchen and help prepare the noon meal. You be certain to let me know in time from here on out.”
Miss Bell nodded, a sweet smile begging pardon. Why did Gert have to be so rude?
He smiled as the kitchen maid waddled out the door, smelling of bacon grease and raw chicken. When the door clicked shut, he shrugged. “Sorry about the misunderstanding with the maid. As you’ve heard, lunch will be delivered to you every day at noon with a snack you can set aside for the afternoon. How do you find your classroom? Do you need anything?”
Miss Bell grinned widely. “This room is well-equipped with the newest books and toys. Thank you. But … I wondered if I might procure a terrarium.”
“A what?”
The lovely lass giggled, sounding like melodic wind chimes. “A terrarium. A large, glass bowl I can use to arrange plants and moss and bugs and worms and maybe even a frog or two for scientific observation and for the children’s enjoyment. It’s the latest thing for helping children learn about God’s creation.”
Liam chuckled at the unconventional request. “You’re a rather bricky woman, Miss Bell.”
Her brows furrowed, her doe eyes sparking confusion. “Bricky?”
Liam clicked his tongue. “Tenacious. Strong. Like a brick wall. It’s meant to be a compliment. Few women would undertake a bug-infested, moss-soaked, frog-hopping science experiment.”
Miss Bell waved a hand, her eyes dancing with amusement. “I’m a farmer’s daughter. None of that shatters my feminine world.”
“Very well, miss. I shall see what I can procure. For now, I’ll escort you to the women’s dormitory. Then you can familiarize yourself with the hotel and grounds and be ready for the morn.” He handed her the sandwich Gert left behind. “Your lunch.”
“Thank you, sir. I’d like to be well accustomed to my surroundings before the children come.” Miss Bell accepted the sandwich and curtsied.
Liam picked up her carpetbag and led her outside through the back entrance. “Staff uses this door only. You will care for six children—and sometimes more—for most of the summer. You will lead the children through this entrance as well. You may use this back lawn for play as long as adult patrons are not present. But keep the noise to a minimum, please. And unless there’s a special event where children are welcome, you shall not take them to the front of the pavilion and never around or into the hotel itself.”
They crossed the small footbridge connecting the pavilion’s island to the mainland where the hotel stood.
“Can the children swim? Bowl? Play badminton?” Miss Bell harrumphed, glancing back at the pavilion.
Liam stopped halfway to the dormitory. “Certainly not, miss. They’re babes. They must be older to participate in such activities.”
Miss Bell bit her bottom lip but said nothing. Her eyes told a stormy tale of disagreement churning inside. But he’d not open that discussion just then.
Entering the two-story house that was used as the women’s dormitory, Liam stopped at the door as the housekeeper joined them. “Good day to you, Mrs. Erving. This is Miss Addison Bell, the nursery worker we’ve been waiting for.”
Mrs. Erving nodded, wiping her wrinkled hands on her apron. Then she swiped her brow with her forearm. “Very good. You’ll be bunking with Gert, upstairs, first door on the right. There are two uniforms on the bed, but a daresay they may be too big. Girl, you’re skinny as a toothpick! I’ll have to find smaller ones.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Miss Bell curtsied, but a small groan escaped her lips.
Liam sighed. Poor Miss Bell having to room with prickly Gert. Perhaps he should request a change? No, this was the housekeeper’s domain, not his.
Mrs. Erving cast him a scowl and pursed her lips before speaking. “A few rules. First, no fraternizing with men, either staff or especially not patrons. Either infraction will yield immediate dismissal. Second, keep your room clean and tidy at all times. Third, only women staff are allowed beyond this door.” She thrust a fat hand toward the door behind them. “Fourth, no unnecessary noise. Fifth, lights out and all quiet at nine p.m. No exceptions.”
Miss Bell held her hand splayed open as if she’d been counting with her fingers. She closed it and grasped her hands together as if worried. She bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, ma’am.”
Liam set down her bag and snapped a nod her way. “All right, then, Miss Bell. Get settled and acclimate to your new home. Your shift begins at eight a.m. sharp.”
Miss Bell dipped a low curtsy and rewarded him with a bright smile. “Thank you, Mr. Donovan, for this opportunity to serve.”
He returned a smile. “Until tomorrow.”
But what might tomorrow bring?

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