Chapter 6
Harlow finished rehearsing her lines, leaving enough time to freshen up before the Eastons arrived. At ten-thirty on the dot the doorbell rang.
David, a step ahead of his daughter, welcomed their guests in. Morgan, holding her pup Chester, stood alongside Brett and a boy who looked like a miniature version of his father.
“C’mon in.”
Mort, curious about the visitors, trotted toward them.
Chester shrank back, his ears straight up as he warily eyed the husky pup.
Harlow crossed the living room and joined her father. “Welcome to Mackinac Island.”
“Thank you.” Morgan smiled brightly. “It was so much fun taking a horse and buggy taxi here. We also noticed a lot of pedal bikes on the main road.”
“Bikes and buggies,” David quipped. “Our main modes of transportation.”
Brett patted the boy’s shoulder. “This is my son, Tristan.”
Harlow stepped forward and held out her hand. “Hello, Tristan. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello, Ms. Wynn.” He hesitated for a second and then shook her hand. “You’re as pretty as your pictures.”
“Thank you.” Harlow grinned. “My dad told me you recently moved to Easton Island.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You can call me Harlow.”
He nervously licked his lips. “Yes, ma’am. I mean, Harlow.”
“Do you like living up here?”
“It’s awesome. I drove a snowmobile. Brett took me ice-fishing. We’re going to go kayaking and hiking. Some friends from school taught me how to ice skate.”
“That’s great,” Harlow said. “How is school?”
His smile vanished. “It’s okay.”
Brett squeezed his shoulder. “It’s been an adjustment.”
Harlow reached into her pocket and pulled out an arrowhead, one she’d found years ago in the backyard vegetable garden. She’d only recently stumbled upon it while rummaging through some of the childhood belongings her dad had boxed up.
The day she dug it out of the ground, David had promptly attached it to a keychain, promising her it would bring her good luck as he hooked it to her backpack. Whenever she felt sad or anxious, she rubbed the stone and it made her feel better.
“I know how you feel,” she said.
“You do?” Tristan asked.
“Yep.” Harlow held out the arrowhead. “I found this in the backyard. Dad made a keyring out of it. This lucky arrowhead was on my school backpack for a very long time. Whenever I was feeling sad or having a bad day, I rubbed it and it made things better.”
The boy’s jaw dropped. “Is this a real arrowhead?”
She solemnly nodded. “From the Chippewa Indian Tribe who used to live on Mackinac Island. Have you ever seen one?”
Tristan shook his head.
Harlow held it out. “I’m giving this to you, to bring you luck.”
He stared at the gift but didn’t make a move to take it from her.
“Go ahead, Son,” Brett said.
He hesitantly reached for it, his small hand warm on her palm as he took the special gift. “Thank you, Harlow.”
“You’re welcome. You don’t have to hook it to your backpack, but whenever you’re feeling down, rub it and it will cheer you up or maybe even bring you good luck.”
“It certainly worked for you,” Morgan joked.
Tristan carefully inspected it, rubbing his thumb over both sides. “It will remind me of you. I’m going to put it on my backpack as soon as I get home.”
Harlow ruffled his hair. “Next time I see you, you’ll have to let me know how it helped.”
“I will.” He promptly stuck it in his pocket. “I’ll keep it forever.”
“Morgan and I glimpsed the work that’s been done so far,” Brett said. “The construction crews have hit the ground running.”
“They have.” David reached for his jacket. “I’ll show you around. The revised blueprints are on the counter. We can go over them after the tour.”
“I’ll hang out here,” Harlow said. “What about you Mort?”
Mort sniffed the floor, still warily eyeing Chester.
“Do you want to go with Dad?”
His tail wagging a tiny bit, Mort scooched closer to David.
“I’ll take that as a yes. We’ll be back shortly.”
Harlow held the door for them, quietly closing it after they left. She peeked through the window, watching as Tristan skipped ahead while the adults trailed behind. They stepped beyond the gate and disappeared from sight.
While she waited, Harlow whipped up a batch of Michigan Treasure Cookies, a recipe she’d gotten from her Mackie friend Abby, who used them as a signature dessert in her catering business.
After mixing the dark chocolate dough with dried Michigan cherries and chunks of chocolate, she formed perfect circles out of them using the technique her mother had taught her and popped a batch in the oven.
She logged onto the studio’s website and accessed her account. Harlow became engrossed in organizing her to-do list, completely forgetting about the cookies until she smelled something burning.
“The cookies!” She grabbed a potholder and flung the oven door open. The smell of burnt butter wafted out. Harlow hurriedly pulled the cookie sheet from the shelf and set it on top of the stove.
As luck would have it, David and the Eastons returned at precisely that moment.
“Something smells…” Morgan’s voice drifted off.
“Burnt.” Harlow scraped a cookie off the baking sheet, opened the trash can, and dropped it inside. “I thought I would whip up a batch of Michigan Treasure Cookies. I popped them in the oven and promptly forgot they were in there.”
Morgan tiptoed into the kitchen. “At least you didn’t burn them all.”
“No, but given the opportunity, I can burn water.”
“I bet they taste good,” Tristan said.
“Thank you, Tristan,” Harlow chuckled. “I hope so.”
Morgan promptly washed her hands and helped Harlow arrange a fresh batch of cookies on the sheet. “Michigan Treasure Cookies? I’ve never heard of them.”
“My friend, Abby, owns a catering business and claims they’re popular with her customers.” Harlow rattled off the ingredients.
“I love baking and cooking.”
The women finished placing the cookies on the sheet and Harlow eased the tray into the oven. “Thanks for the assist.”
“Glad I could help.”
“I have the final prints here.” David slipped his reading glasses on while Morgan and Brett gathered around.
Meanwhile Mort and Chester, who had already become besties, sat side by side, closely monitoring the kitchen activity.
“Would you like a treat?” Harlow pulled out Mort’s favorite treats and fed one to each of the pups.
Chester pawed her hand, begging for more.
“Can I give him a treat?” the boy asked.
“Just one more,” Morgan said. “He’s an excellent beggar.”
“Chester learned a new trick,” Brett said. “Tristan taught him how to eat a boiled egg.”
Harlow opened the fridge. “Mort likes tricks. We have boiled eggs. Do you think you could teach him?”
Ting. The kitchen timer chimed.
“Right after we sample non-burnt, fresh-from-the-oven cookies.”
During the cookie and lemonade break, David filled the Eastons in on the fire investigation. “The investigator and fire chief both believe an accelerant was used near the laundry room.”
“But you don’t know who or why,” Brett said.
“Not yet. We’re hoping we get answers but, to be honest, it might never happen,” Harlow said.
Morgan’s eyes were filled with sympathy and understanding. “It could be a blessing, not knowing.”
Harlow could feel her throat clog at the empathy and kindred spirit she felt from a woman she barely knew. Morgan had not only suffered the loss of her mother, but had grown up without her father or family. “I never looked at it that way, but maybe you’re right.”
“I didn’t mean to make you sad.” Morgan dusted her hands. “I’m sure Tristan is itching to teach Mort the trick. Come here Chester.”
Her pup promptly trotted over. “We’re going to teach Mort your boiled egg trick,” she told him. “Do you think we can do it?”
Woof. Chester spun in a circle, prancing excitedly.
“I swear he understands every word my sister says,” Brett joked.
Harlow peeled a boiled egg and handed it to Tristan.
“Stand still.”
Chester promptly obeyed the command, his eyes never leaving the treat in the boy’s hand. He held the pup’s chin while placing the peeled egg on his snout. Slowly pulling his hand away, Tristan gave him the “stay” command.
He stood perfectly still with the egg balancing on the end of his nose.
“Now.”
In a flash, the pup caught the egg midair and promptly gobbled it up.
Harlow clapped her hands. “What a neat trick.”
“It took some time,” Morgan said. “Do you think Mort has the patience to learn it?”
“He loves eggs and is smart. I say it’s worth a shot.”
Morgan and her nephew did their best to teach Mort the balancing trick, but no matter how many times they tried to get him to hold still, he wiggled and squirmed, distracted by the treat on his nose.
“I’m beginning to think Mort has ADDD. Attention deficit dog disorder,” Harlow joked.
“It took time and a lot of patience on Tristan’s part to teach Chester. I think if you keep at it, he’ll be catching boiled eggs like an old pro before long.”
Brett’s watch chimed. “It’s time for us to head out.”
“We need to return the jet back to Easton Island Airport before Denver, the manager, hunts us down,” Morgan kidded.
Brett cleared his throat. “Before we go, my sister and I have a proposal for you.”
“For me?” David asked.
“We were wondering if you might be interested in amending our agreement.”
“Amending it how?”
“So that Morgan and I become permanent partners.”
“The three of us?”
Brett nodded. “I ran some numbers. We could cash out and walk away with our share, but it seems like a shame to end our joint venture.”
“I…I…have never considered the thought.” David turned to Harlow. “What do you think?”
Morgan lifted her hand. “You don’t have to answer right away. We could offer certain terms, ensuring it’s fair to all parties. I guess what we’re asking is if you might consider it or if we would be wasting our time.”
Harlow slipped in next to her father. “It’s entirely up to Dad. I’m sure he’s already told you the property has been in our family for decades.”
“I suppose I won’t be around forever,” David said. “You have your own life.”
“Give it some thought and let us know. No rush.” Brett shook his hand. “Morgan and I didn’t mean to throw you a curveball and spring it on you.”
“No need to apologize. There’s nothing wrong with curveballs.”
Harlow and her father accompanied them to the door.
“Thank you for making the trip here,” David said.
“As far as our current arrangement is concerned, I believe we covered all pertinent issues. The fact that the citations and penalties have all finally been waived or settled was the biggest hurdle,” Brett said. “It clears the way for us to move full steam ahead.”
Harlow bent down and patted Chester’s head. “Mort is going to miss his new buddy.”
“We’ll come back for another visit,” Morgan promised. “Maybe once the walls are up and we have something to look at.”
Tristan fidgeted on one foot and then the other, waiting for the adults to finish talking.
Harlow locked eyes with the boy. “Thank you for coming to visit us, Tristan.”
He offered her a shy smile. “Thank you for the arrowhead keychain.”
“You’re welcome. I hope it brings you many years of good luck.”
“Me too.”
“Will you come back to visit again?” she asked.
His eyes lit. “Can I?”
“Absolutely.”
“I…uh.”
“What is it?” she prompted.
“Can I tell my friends you gave me this?”
“Of course.” Harlow impulsively hugged him. “You can even tell them I gave you a hug.”
“This is the best day ever.” Tristan jumped up and down.
Brett laughed out loud. “We had better get going. It’s getting late and I’m sure the driver is already out front waiting for us.”
Morgan touched Harlow’s arm and whispered in her ear. “Thank you so much. Tristan needed a fun day and a good luck charm.”
Harlow waited until they were gone. “What a sweet boy. He’s gone through some rough stuff.”
“You know how he feels,” David said. “Well? What are your thoughts about the Easton’s proposal?”
“I have to admit I’m surprised.’
“Me too. To be honest, I never saw that coming.”