Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas (Easton Island Family Saga #14)
Chapter 1
Morgan picked up the embossed invitation with a watercolor rendition of Locke Pointe etched on the front, evoking images of Christmases past—the holly wreaths, the Scotch pine tree with twinkling red, blue and green lights.
Even her pup, Chester, made an appearance, posing near the top of the porch steps.
She absentmindedly set the invitation to the Locke Village business owners’ open house aside and ran her fingertip over the photo of her grandparents’ beloved home, the edges tattered and faded from age.
Ann and Joseph Locke, dressed from head to toe in their winter weather finery, stood in almost the same spot as Chester.
A blanket of snow covered the ground. Wreaths similar to those displayed on Morgan’s invitation hung from the porch posts.
More than anything, she wished she could go back in time and spend Christmas with her mother and grandparents, to share the holiday and be immersed in the Locke family traditions, even if only for a few hours.
“Knock, knock.”
Morgan lifted her head and found Ronni Lansbury, Locke Pointe Bed-and-Breakfast’s manager, standing in the doorway. “Got a minute?”
“Sure. C’mon in.”
Ronni waltzed across the office, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Her smile vanished when she noticed the family photos spread out on the desk and the melancholy expression on Morgan’s face. “You’re feeling down in the dumps again, missing your mom and grandparents?”
“As much as I love the holidays, I’ll be the first to admit they make me sad.”
“They make me sad too.” Her mother’s best friend embraced her in a warm hug. “I miss Laura…miss her funny little laugh and our long talks late into the night. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her and wish she were still alive.”
Morgan swiped at a tear trailing down her cheek, overwhelmed by the feeling of loss that had been building. Laura loved Christmas, loved decorating the tree, baking cookies, and hosting her holiday parties at the art gallery.
Despite the fact that for many years it had been just the two of them, she had a way of making the holidays extra special for her only child. “I want to carve out new memories, but the harder I try, the more I feel like I’m spinning my wheels.”
“Because no matter what you do, it won’t be good enough.”
“Exactly.”
Ronni gave Morgan’s arm a gentle nudge. “I guess this means you didn’t order those ornaments online for the living room tree.”
“Nope.” It had been barely over a year since Morgan’s mother’s sudden death.
The previous Christmas had been rough. Although thrilled to have found her grandmother and brother, making plans to spend the special holiday on Easton Island with her newfound family, she still mourned her mom’s death, and her grief lingered long after she had put the decorations away.
Time, they say, heals all wounds. In Morgan’s case, the hurt was still there, although the unbearable pain had become more of a dull ache. Life had moved on, sometimes in a slow and steady ebb and flow, while at other times the days flew by.
So much had happened. Divorcing Jason. Moving to Easton Island. Inheriting Locke Pointe. Finding the Shifting Sands Medallion. Falling in love with Wyatt Dawson, an Easton Island police officer. Grandmother Elizabeth had married Gerard Ainsworth.
Thanksgiving had been a celebration of all things new, of family, of Morgan counting her many blessings. This year, despite feeling sad, she was looking forward to Christmas, her favorite holiday.
Not only looking forward to it, but determined to honor and embrace the memories, with the focal point being Locke Pointe.
Ronni had summed it up perfectly. The harder Morgan tried, the more difficult it was becoming.
Or maybe she was being overly picky. The decorations were too generic.
The television shows too cliché. What it boiled down to was she longed for a good old-fashioned Christmas.
Eggnog, caroling through the neighborhoods, and driving around town looking at the pretty lights.
She also wanted Locke Pointe to shine, for guests to walk through the door and stop in their tracks, their breath taken away, like taking a step back in time when life was simpler, what she remembered the holidays being like when she was a child, although Morgan barely remembered her grandparents and had no recollection of ever visiting Locke Pointe.
Laura had fled to Florida when Morgan was a young child…not only fled, but kept Easton Island and her family a secret until her death. Morgan had never blamed her mother. She understood the circumstances and reasons behind it.
“I want to start new-old traditions,” she said. “If that makes sense. Unfortunately, I’m running out of time. The Locke Village open house is only hours away. I might need to run to the mainland tomorrow and grab what I can get.”
“Maybe not. I have a surprise for you.” Ronni crooked her finger. “Come with me.”
Morgan popped out of her chair and followed the woman down the long hall to the basement stairs. They reached the bottom and found Greg, her handyman, waiting for them.
“Did you tell her?”
“Nope.” Ronni grabbed a flashlight and handed it to her. “Your surprise is over in the corner.”
Morgan cast her a puzzled look. With flashlight in hand, she cautiously made her way across the room, zigzagging past pieces of furniture wrapped in plastic, pieces belonging to her grandparents she didn’t have the heart to part with and hoped to find a good home for one day. “What am I looking for?”
“The boxes in the corner.”
Morgan beamed the light toward the corner, her heart skipping a beat when she noticed the big, bold letters on the boxes: Christmas decorations.
“You found Christmas stuff.” She tightened her grip on the flashlight. “I was down here a few days ago and couldn’t find any.”
“Because they were buried behind a headboard, two armoires and a curio cabinet,” Greg said. “When I saw how bummed out you were, I dug a little deeper.”
Morgan threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “You’re the best, Greg Baker. Thank you.”
He grinned sheepishly. “You’re welcome. As soon as I saw them, I called Ronni down here to help me dig them out so we could surprise you.”
“You made my day. Shoot my whole holiday season.” Morgan excitedly flipped the flaps on the top box and shined the light inside. Patches of red and green, nutcrackers with shiny metal hats, their hands resting on glittery gold swords gazed up at her.
Like a child on Christmas morning, Morgan began digging through the treasures that sat patiently waiting for her to find them, and the feeling she’d been missing—of her loving family she longed to see—tenderly reached out to her.
“This is what I’ve been missing,” she breathed. “Memories I can share with guests and friends.”
“Are you sure you want to put these out?” Ronni wrinkled her nose. “It might be safer if you displayed them at Looking Glass Cottage, away from curious hands and sticky fingers.”
Sensible Ronni. Of course, she was right.
Morgan would be devastated if anything happened to the priceless mementos.
Locke Pointe, Looking Glass Cottage, the furnishings, had all been entrusted to her, to care for—for the next generation.
But what good would they do if no one got to see them, to appreciate their beauty?
She carefully removed a snow globe and gently shook it, watching the tiny snowflakes drift down onto the Christmas tree, draped in twinkling string lights, miniature ornaments dotting the branches. Piles of presents, perfectly wrapped with bright blue and green bows, sat beneath the tree.
A boy stood nearby, his eyes filled with wonder as he gazed up at it. Morgan remembered the feeling of awe on Christmas morning, waking early and rushing to the living room to see what Santa had brought for her. The magic of the season through a child’s eyes.
Yes, she could take the heirlooms home and decorate her beloved cottage from top to bottom. Chester would appreciate the bright lights. Quinn and Ronni would stop by to ooh and aah over it, perhaps even Grandmother Elizabeth, Brett and her boyfriend Wyatt.
But it would be a shame to have the treasures tucked away when she could share them with her guests, her employees, and her family.
“I’m going to take my chances,” Morgan finally said.
“The sensible side of me tells me I need to protect them, but my heart wins. Every day, every moment I look at these, I’ll have a small piece of my mom and grandparents surrounding me. ”
She placed the globe back in the box and closed the lid. “If you don’t mind giving me a hand, I want to start decorating.”
“Today?” Ronni asked.
“Now. The sooner, the better.”