“It is.”
“You know Harlow Wynn, the famous actress?”
“I do.”
“Can I meet her?”
Morgan grinned. “Maybe someday. Your dad…Brett…knows her too. We’re working on a special project with Harlow’s father, David Wynn.”
“She’s pretty, just like you.”
“I…” Morgan’s throat clogged. “Thank you, Tristan.”
“You’re welcome. I bet she’s nice, but not as nice as you.”
“The kid is scoring some brownie points,” Ronni said.
“It’s true. Aunt Morgan is the best.” Tristan hummed under his breath and slid his jacket on, unaware he had paid his new aunt one of the greatest compliments she’d ever received.
Regardless of who Addison Blakely had been, she’d done an excellent job of raising a good kid…not only a good kid but a sweet, thoughtful and loving boy. If the woman had been standing there right now, Morgan would have told her what a great job she’d done.
Somehow, she knew Addison was smiling down on them, thrilled that her son had found a loving home.
Chapter 3
“Brett is back.” Morgan pointed out the sedan parked alongside the estate’s larger vehicle, used to chauffeur the family around.
As soon as she shifted into park, Tristan bolted, taking off at a dead run with Morgan trailing slowly behind. She found Mrs. Arnsby standing at the kitchen counter, a puzzled look on her face.
“Did the whirlwind, also known as Tristan, just fly by?”
“He sure did. He was looking for Brett.” The cook explained that the first thing Brett had asked when he arrived home was about Tristan. “He was glad to hear the boy was with you.”
“We had a ball.” Morgan told her about their sledding adventure. “I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but he’s fearless.”
“Which means he’ll learn new skills easily, taking to them like a duck to water,” she said. “I’ll be the first to confess that having a youngster living under the roof again has livened the place up.”
“Like a ray of bright sunshine.” Morgan patted her pocket. “Chester and I are leaving after we tell Tristan goodbye.”
Cutting through the dining room, she took the main stairs to the second floor. Veering left, she passed Brett’s bedroom before reaching his home office. The door was ajar. Voices…her brother’s low baritone, followed by Tristan’s chirpy high-pitched reply.
“Knock, knock.” She gave the door a light rap and stuck her head around the corner. “Hey, Brett.”
“Hello, Morgan. Tristan was telling me all about sledding and how he wants to meet Harlow Wynn.”
“The local magazine printed our new ad, the one with Harlow, David and me standing on Locke Pointe’s front porch. Ronni is thrilled that we’re already getting more calls and inquiries about the B&B.”
“It doesn’t hurt to use a little star power,” Brett said.
Tristan tugged on his arm. “Can we go ice fishing now? I have my clothes on the hook by the door.”
“Sure. Give me a few minutes.”
“I’ll put away the art book Aunt Morgan let me borrow.” Tristan scampered off, and Brett waited until he was gone. “Thanks for hanging out with him today.”
“We had fun.” Morgan shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “He’s a little worried about starting school.”
Brett’s eyes clouded with concern. “I heard the same. You know how mean kids can be, especially to the new kid.”
