“We call it the catch-all room.” Morgan showed him the binocular cases. “There’s even a telescope for stargazing.”
“You have almost as much as Easton Estate.”
“Not quite. Grandmother’s boathouse and storage shed are bigger than mine, but then she’s been collecting gear and equipment for a lot longer than I have.”
Tina appeared in the doorway. “I thought I heard voices. Greg came by to get some carrots and buttons for the snowman. How was sledding?”
“A blast,” Tristan said. “We went so fast. Greg and I raced down the hill.”
“I’m glad you had fun.”
“We worked up an appetite and were wondering if we could grab a quick snack.”
“I have some grilled bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches left over from breakfast.”
“Sounds perfect.” Reaching the kitchen, Morgan removed the leftovers from the fridge and assembled two plates…a half a sandwich for her and a sandwich and a half for Tristan. After warming the food, she added a scoop of yogurt and some sliced fruit.
While they ate, Tristan talked nonstop, giving her a play-by-play of his sledding experience and telling Morgan he wanted to learn how to catch big fish. Gobbling up his food, he began tapping his foot, a sign she had learned meant he was growing restless. “Are you ready to head back to Easton Estate?”
“Okay.” He hopped off the barstool and placed his empty plate in the dishwasher. “Thank you for the sandwich, Tina.”
“You’re welcome. We’ll see you again soon.”
“Yep. Greg said I can use his sled whenever I want.”
Morgan caught Tina’s eye over the top of his head and winked. “Aunt Morgan might need to visit a chiropractor after a few more trips down the hill.”
“Dead Man Drop Junior,” she said. “Similar to the hill near Easton Estate but on a smaller scale.”
“You’re right. I think it’s a fitting name.” Morgan jangled her keys. “I need to stop by the front desk before we leave.”
Tristan tracked down Chester, who was sniffing around, searching for crumbs.
Morgan fed him a handful of treats. “We can’t forget about Chester. He worked up an appetite too.”
Jingle…ting.
“Those must be our guests.” Picking up the pace, Morgan, with Tristan by her side, darted to the front desk. While Greg left to grab their luggage, she made quick work of checking the guests in.
She had just finished giving them a tour of their rooms when Ronni, her friend who was also Locke Pointe’s manager, arrived. “Oh good. I was running late and afraid I would keep the guests waiting.”
“I have them all checked in,” Morgan said. “Tristan and I are heading back to Easton Estate.”
“Before you go.” Ronni reached under the desk and handed her a copy ofEntertainment in the Thumb, a travel magazine for visitors and locals. “Our new ad is in this month’s copy.”
Morgan flipped through the glossy pages until she found the photo of Harlow and David Wynn smiling back at her. Beneath the photo was Locke Pointe’s name and address, touting it as “the” place to stay on Easton Island.
Along with the glossy photo was a list of activities Locke Pointe offered. In the corner was a snapshot of Ronni posing in winter wear, ski poles in hand and standing on the edge of a wintry white forest covered in a fresh dusting of snow. “Lookin’ good, Ronni.”
“Thanks.”
“When did this come out?” Morgan flipped back to the cover.
“Two days ago, and the only reason I knew it had finally published is because our phone has been ringing off the hook. This ad is working like a charm.”
“I’m so glad you thought to ask Harlow if she would pose for a photo when she and her father, David, were here.”
Tristan tugged on her arm. “Is this picture real?”
