Chapter 15

Morgan traipsed back inside the house and walked straight into the living room. She flopped down on the couch and stared off into space, wondering how everything had gone so terribly wrong in such a short amount of time.

Although she felt bad about arguing with Wyatt, she was convinced she was one hundred percent correct about Amber’s moves and motives. She was acting intentionally every single step of the way.

Did Wyatt know his ex was a psychologist? She didn’t dare mention it to him now. He would think for sure she was becoming obsessed. If Amber only knew what she’d done, she would be jumping for joy.

Morgan should never have insinuated that Wyatt enjoyed Amber’s attention. In his defense, he probably didn’t mention pulling his ex over because he knew she would insist it was intentional.

The woman was conniving and manipulative. Morgan would like nothing more than to confront her, but what would it solve? Not a single thing. The worst part was, something told her Amber would continue to be a thorn in her side.

Forcing herself to get up off the couch and not wallow in self-pity, she marched into the kitchen and rummaged around in the fridge. The slices of figgy duff sat on the shelf. Morgan slid a piece onto a plate and put it in the microwave.

After it warmed, she poured a generous amount of syrup over the top and carried it to the bar. Chester, who had been keeping close tabs on her, followed behind.

“I can’t forget my Chester.” Morgan fed him a handful of his favorite snacks before sampling the warm pudding. She thought about the celebratory dinner the previous night and how thrilled she had been to be back home.

Before Quinn told her about the job. Before she found out Amber was there. Before she and Wyatt argued. It seemed so long ago.

Even if she was able to turn the clock back, Morgan couldn’t change Quinn’s mind or stop Amber, but she could have done a better job of discussing the issue with Wyatt.

If he was entertaining the thought of breaking up with Morgan and rekindling his relationship with the woman, there was nothing she could do to stop them, nor would she want to. If this were the case, she would graciously step aside.

Deep down, she didn’t believe Wyatt cared for the woman. Still, he seemed to want to explain away her actions. One thing was certain: as long as Amber was around, there was a good chance she would cause conflict between the couple.

The rest of the afternoon and evening dragged. Morgan finally turned in around ten, keeping her cell phone close for Wyatt’s evening call. She must’ve fallen asleep because the next time she opened her eyes, it was pitch black out.

Morgan checked her phone, thinking she had missed Wyatt’s call. But there was no missed call. No text. No communication.

She set the phone down and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. For the first time in a long time, Morgan wondered about Jason and how he was adjusting to life in prison. She thought about her parent’s relationship. Laura had fled Easton Island, never to return.

Rhett Easton had never known his only daughter. Her grandmother had missed out on Morgan’s younger years. Brett grew up knowing he had a half-sister, a sister he never met until recently. She wondered what life would have been like had her twin brother lived.

So much sadness and tragedy had touched her life. Both parents and her brother were gone. It made those she still had so much more precious. A tear slipped down the side of her cheek and soaked into her pillow.

Regret over the angry words spoken. The things she’d said to Quinn, which were the catalyst for her friend suddenly leaving Easton Island. Angry accusations hurled at Wyatt. Accusations that could never be unspoken or taken back.

Hours later, Morgan finally fell back asleep, only to be jolted upright in bed at her alarm clock blaring. Throwing the covers back, she set the television remote on her nightstand.

Chester, who was patiently waiting for her, vaulted out of bed and dashed to the door.

“I wish I had half your energy.” Morgan promptly let her pup out. She hovered in the doorway, shivering against the chilly morning air.

Chester, in no hurry to return inside, began an in-depth investigation into what was left of Morgan’s pumpkin patch. “C’mon, buddy. It’s freezing out here.”

Pretending not to hear, he stuck his nose deeper in the corner, his tail wagging ninety miles an hour.

“Fine. Come to the door when you’re ready.” Morgan started to close it.

Chester, realizing he was going to be left out in the cold, flew across the yard. He scrambled up the steps and dashed past her.

“You’re a trip,” she laughed. “I swear, you have me wrapped around your little paw.”

First things first. She put fresh water in his dish before filling his bowl with food. While the coffee percolated, Morgan ran back to the bedroom to grab her cell phone.

She started to plug it into the charger when she realized Wyatt had sent a text at exactly three minutes past seven. I love you, Morgan. I’m sorry.

Morgan texted back. I love you too, and I’m sorry. I trust you and know you would never do anything to hurt me.

Never. Wyatt included a heart emoji.

“Lord, please teach me to keep my mouth shut when I need to.” Feeling better knowing she and Wyatt were putting Amber’s antics behind them, she whipped up a hearty breakfast for one — scrambled eggs, crispy slices of bacon, and wheat toast. She scooped Greek yogurt into a small bowl, added fresh fruit, and carried it over to the bistro table.

While Morgan ate, she ticked off Locke Pointe’s open house to-do list. Chester, who had practically inhaled his food, plopped down and curled up at her feet. “Seeing how you’re Locke Pointe’s unofficial mascot, I need to deck you out for today’s open house.”

After finishing her food, Morgan and Chester hopped into her vehicle and drove to Easton Estate. At first glance, she thought Mrs. Arnsby wasn’t around.

Morgan, with her pup by her side, finally tracked her down in the pantry where she was taking inventory of supplies.

“Hello, Morgan.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Arnsby.” Morgan stepped into the room, a storage space which was almost as large as Looking Glass Cottage’s living room. She let out a low whistle. “If I didn’t know better, I would think I was standing inside a grocery store.”

“We keep an extensive inventory. Elizabeth likes a well-stocked pantry.”

“I know where to come if I ever run out of food,” Morgan joked. “Chester and I have a favor to ask.”

“I’ll be happy to help if I can.”

“The Locke Pointe’s open house is this afternoon. Chester, being the unofficial mascot, needs to dress the part. I was wondering if I could dig through your craft bins to find something with a heart on it. Romance is the theme.”

“I’m sure we can find something to fit the occasion.” Mrs. Arnsby set her clipboard on top of the cans of stewed tomatoes and followed Morgan into the kitchen. “Chester is finnicky about his attire. Finding something he’ll leave on is the bigger issue.”

Morgan ruffled his ears. “That’s why I brought him with me. We’ll need to get the Chester seal of approval.”

Exiting the kitchen, the women crossed the driveway, making their way to the cook’s cottage, her half of a duplex. Jax lived in the other half while Ben lived in an apartment above the garage.

Morgan had been in her cottage a handful of times, always impressed by her neat-as-a-pin cozy home. The décor fit the cook to a ‘t.’ Warm, inviting, filled with crafts she worked on in her free time, along with estate sale antiques she’d collected over the years, one of Mrs. Arnsby’s favorite pastimes.

“Have a seat.”

Morgan perched on the edge of a nearby recliner.

Mrs. Arnsby lifted the lid on a quilted bin and began removing large scraps of fabric. Starting at the top, she sifted through the pieces.

Unfortunately, none were even close to what Morgan had envisioned. “I hope I’m not being too picky, but nothing you have fits the bill.”

“I have another bin with craft supplies. If I recall correctly, I might have the perfect accessory.” She hurried out of the room, returning moments later carrying a large metal bin.

“Ah. Here it is.” She held out her hand. In it was a silver heart. She jiggled it and it made a tinkling sound.

“It’s cute, but how are we going to turn it into an accessory for Chester?” Morgan asked.

“Let me see.” She shifted the bin to the side and began opening the small drawers. “I know I have the clips in here somewhere. There they are.”

Using her fingernail, she hooked the silver heart to the clip. “Come here Chester.”

The pup promptly trotted over and sniffed her hand.

“It’s not a treat, you silly dog. Let me see your collar.” The cook spun his collar until she found the hook. “There we go.”

She snapped it to the band and slid it down. The bell tinkled merrily.

Morgan could’ve sworn Chester frowned. He promptly tried popping it off, which only made the bell tinkle even more.

Woof.

“He hates it.” She chuckled at the aggravated look on her dog’s face.

“It’s fitting. But you’re right. He’s not a fan. Let’s keep looking.” While Mrs. Arnsby left to track down more crafts, Morgan unhooked the bell.

Chester promptly licked her hand, thanking her for removing the noisy tinkler.

“I think I found it.” The cook triumphantly waved a red bandana covered in pink hearts over her head. “I hardly ever look inside my closet craft bin and forgot I even had this.”

She deftly folded and tied the cloth around Chester’s neck. He gave it a light paw and trotted off to explore the kitchen.

“He doesn’t seem to be bothered by it.” Morgan helped Mrs. Arnsby put the bins back. “Thank you for saving the day.”

“You’re welcome. You can keep it.”

“How much do I owe you?”

The cook waved dismissively. “Nothing. I’m happy to see it get some use.”

Morgan called her pup and hopped back into her vehicle. It was time for her to start prepping for Locke Pointe’s special event.

Hopefully, it would help fill the empty rooms and generate enough income to pay the bills. If not, Morgan would have to move on to Plan B. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a Plan B. At least not yet.