“Who loves Tristan but travels frequently for work. The boy seems to be adjusting well to life on Easton Island.” David tipped his hand back and forth. “But school? Not so much, although Brett said he has a few friends.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.” Harlow motioned to Mort, who stood waiting by the door. “Mort’s giving me the look.”
“Speaking of Mort, Morgan’s dog Chester will be with them.”
“The more, the merrier,” Harlow tucked her phone in her pocket. “Before I forget, I’m meeting the Mackies in town for dinner.”
“I figured as much. Lottie will be by for cards and casserole. If you’re stopping at Aunt Birdie’s place, ask her if she wants to join us.”
“Will do.” Harlow gave him a mock salute and slipped out into the crisp afternoon air. Despite the chilly temps, the skies were crystal clear.
Taking the long way around, Harlow and the pup passed the cluster of cottages. Several had sustained damage during the horrific fire and were on the schedule to be renovated. More properties meant more money David could use to pay off the money he had borrowed from the Easton siblings.
Harlow had offered to fund the renovations to which her father had promptly and adamantly refused. He also pointed out it was too late. The contract between the trio was fully executed. She secretly suspected his pride wouldn’t allow him to accept a large sum of money from his daughter.
Because of the layout and by design, everything centered around where the main lodge had sat. The cottages, gardens, tennis courts and private family quarters were tucked along the outer perimeter.
She and Mort reached the path leading to the main road. Crossing over, they trekked to the dock. Winnie, her father’s sailboat along with his fishing boat, were both still tarped to protect them from the elements. But soon David would launch them with plans to take advantage of their water wonderland and summer season for as long as possible.
Mort trotted to the end of the dock. He sank down onto all fours and stuck his chin over the edge, peering into frigid Lake Huron.
“What do you see, buddy?”
The shaggy fur above his eyes lifted and lowered, his attention laser-focused on the water as he searched for fish.
“Dad will take us fishing soon,” she promised. “Wait a few more weeks and we’ll be heading to the honey hole.”
They lingered for long moments as Harlow studied the horizon. Off in the distance she could see the Mighty Mac—Mackinac Bridge or, as she had nicknamed it many moons ago when she was a child, the “Bridge to Home.”
A brisk breeze blew off the water causing her to shiver involuntarily. The main ferry transporting goods to the island chugged toward the mainland. Within weeks, passenger ferries would start their regular daily schedules, bringing tourists and guests from Mackinaw City and St. Ignace.
“C’mon, Mort.” Crossing back over, they stopped by Aunt Birdie’s RV. The place was buttoned up tight with no one around.
Back home, she had enough time to freshen up before biking to town. The friend’s get-together was a casual bring-a-dish-to-pass gathering, but because Harlow had been traveling, her contribution would be whatever she happened to find at the grocery store.
Stepping inside, she grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the deli. Standing off to the side, Harlow texted Peyton who was hosting the event.
Harlow:I’m at the Corner Grocery. What do you want me to bring?
Peyton:You get a pass for being gone. Just bring yourself.
Harlow:I refuse to show up empty-handed.
Peyton:Fine. Bring their smoked fish dip. It’s delish.
Harlow:And some pita chips. SY soon.
She tucked her phone in her jacket pocket and began perusing the prepared foods display. Harlow placed two large dip containers in her basket and went in search of pita crackers. She added a party-size box of her favorites before noticing lemon cream cheese coffee cake bites. “These look yummy.”
The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Harlow sensed someone staring at her, which was a common occurrence. But this felt different. She slowly turned to find Cheyenne Clifton staring…or more like glaring at her.
Chapter 4
Harlow’s initial instinct was to pretend she didn’t notice Cheyenne. She began heading in the opposite direction.
The woman had other plans. She sauntered down the aisle, cutting off Harlow’s escape route. “Hello.”
“Hello.” Harlow greeted her, not smiling but not frowning. Neutral…a neutral greeting.
