Page 4 of Wynns of Change (Wynn Harbor Inn #3)

“You bought this property,” Harlow guessed.

“I did.” Aunt Birdie told her she tracked down the owners and presented them with an offer they couldn’t refuse.

“As I mentioned before, I’ve decided to plunk down some roots here, at least during the summer months.

Your father and I aren’t getting any younger.

I would like to spend time with my family before I’m too old to remember who you are. ”

“Your mind is as sharp as a tack,” Harlow said. “I don’t envision you becoming forgetful anytime soon.”

“You never know. After giving it serious thought, I couldn’t think of a better place to settle down than Mackinac Island.” Aunt Birdie, with Harlow by her side, roamed the property, eventually making their way along what had once been a gravel driveway.

Cresting a small hill, Harlow could see the tippy top of the cottage she and her parents had once called home. Although it looked nothing like what she remembered. As they drew closer, she noticed entire sections of missing shingles.

The front door, or what was left of it, hung haphazardly.

The doorknob was missing, and the windows were busted out.

Harlow was filled with a sense of melancholy.

She knew she and her parents had lived elsewhere while her grandparents were still running Wynn Harbor Inn, but the memories had long been forgotten… until now.

She inched closer. “Do you think it’s safe to go in?”

“I walked the property last week and took a peek inside. I don’t think any critters have taken up residence. Go on,” her aunt urged. “Check it out.”

Harlow guardedly eased the door open. It creaked loudly, filling the room with an eerie echo. She lingered near the threshold, gazing around. “It’s all coming back. I can even visualize where the furniture was.”

“It’s amazing what one can remember about their childhood, yet still forget what they ate for breakfast,” her aunt said.

Portions of the ceiling and roof were missing, allowing beams of light to filter in through the cracks. From where she stood, Harlow could see straight through from the dining room to the kitchen.

A handful of cupboards were still intact. Faded with age, the doors and drawers were warped from years of exposure to the elements.

Circling around, Harlow stepped into the main bedroom, what had been her parents’ room. She passed through the connecting bath, making her way to the second bedroom.

She wandered to the window. A feeling of wistfulness pinched Harlow’s heart as she gazed out through the splintered glass.

A tree…a large oak tree where her father had hung a tire swing, stood tall.

Spindly branches dipped down, almost touching the ground.

The tree’s trunk appeared solid. Golden brown and purple leaves clung to the branches.

“I can’t believe this place is still here.

I even remember the trees in the backyard. ”

She spun around and found her aunt thoughtfully contemplating her. “You said my parents sold this place.”

“Because Mom and Dad could no longer run Wynn Harbor Inn. They needed someone to handle the day-to-day operations. David, your father, stepped in. Ginger wasn’t thrilled. She considered this place, Petoskey Point, to be home. You were so young at the time.”

“And you bought it because you wanted it back in the family?”

“Not to mention it’s a gorgeous piece of real estate.” Birdie tapped her foot on the floor. “The foundation is solid. My plan is to use the cottage as the footprint. Water, sewer, electric are all accessible.”

Harlow clasped her hands to her chest, spinning in a slow circle. “I can see it now, Aunt Birdie. Have you told Dad?”

“Not yet. I figured I would show it to you first. How do you think he’ll react?”

“About you putting down roots on Mackinac Island or buying his old home?” Harlow teased.

“Either. Both.”

“I think he’s coming around and am guessing he’ll be tickled pink.”

“Does me buying a chunk of land help sway your decision about taking up part-time residence here on the island?”

Harlow grew quiet, contemplating her aunt’s question. Deep down, she already knew the answer. “It doesn’t sway it. To be honest, ever since my accident, it’s all I can think about. Home is where the heart is and my heart is here,” she simply said.

Aunt Birdie shimmied back and forth, her hands in the air. “This is the best news I’ve had all week. Let’s head to the inn. Your father is waiting for you.”

*****

Back on the road, Harlow and her aunt arrived at Wynn Harbor Inn a short time later. Marty steered his team off to the side, waiting for another carriage to pass by before helping them down. “Do you need me to take the luggage for you?”

“We can handle it.” Harlow plucked two twenty-dollar bills from her bag and handed both to him. “Thanks for the ride and making the detour to check out Aunt Birdie’s new place.”

“Anytime. Welcome home, Harlow.”

“Thanks, Marty.” Harlow waved goodbye and caught up with her aunt near the gate. She lingered for a moment, taking it all in. Not a single thing had changed. It all looked exactly the same as it had the day she left for the mainland.

Stepping through the gate, they veered right onto the main street that led to the trio of cottages, including the one her father lived in.

Entering through the second smaller gate, she came to an abrupt halt, noticing a familiar, faded sign hanging from the porch .

“Dad put the cottage’s nameplate back up.” Harlow had noticed it was missing when she first arrived after her injury, but hadn’t mentioned it.

Bridgeview Cottage, the name the family had decided on over a decade ago, fit it to a ‘t.’ David Wynn had ordered the custom sign and proudly hung it on the porch until the devastating fire destroyed the lodge and Harlow left.

“I noticed it the day after you flew out to Vancouver,” Aunt Birdie said. “He’s proud of the name.”

“Mom, Dad and I picked it out.” Harlow bounced on the tips of her toes, glimpsing the “Mighty Mac,” the majestic Mackinac Bridge off in the distance. “It fits this place perfectly.”

“And has special meaning to him.” Her aunt touched her arm. “I see it does for you too.”

The screen door flew open. Mort, her father’s dog, appeared. He flew down the steps and collided with Harlow. The husky pup’s exuberance threw her off balance. He trampled on Harlow’s foot and slobbered all over her arm.

“It’s okay, buddy. I’m just as excited as you are to be home again.” She giggled at the kisses Mort showered her with, his tail wagging ninety miles an hour.

“He’s been sitting by the door all day watching for you.” David Wynn trailed behind, waiting for the pup to finish greeting Harlow. He wrapped both arms around his only child, hugging her tightly. “We missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Harlow closed her eyes, feeling the love of her father’s embrace. Even though their chats on the phone had helped ease her homesickness, being there, being home was everything. “I barely slept last night.”

“Neither did we.” He stepped back, holding her at arm’s length. “You look good, like maybe you got a little sun while you were in Vancouver.”

“And a sunburned nose to boot.” She jokingly tapped the end of her red nose.

David craned his neck. “Where’s Vic?”

“He’s on vacation.” Harlow explained she’d insisted her friend and bodyguard take a couple of well-deserved weeks off after being on location with her the entire time.

A pitcher of lemonade and a plate of cookies sat on the table. “I thought you might want a snack after the long flight.”

“Let me get rid of my bags.” Harlow ran inside, dropped her bags off and caught up with her aunt and father on the porch.

“Well?” David poured the lemonade. “How did it go yesterday?”

“Great. I finished my scenes, no problem. Jillian, Robert’s assistant, flubbed up.” Harlow filled him in on what had happened, how she’d botched her lines. “The director ended up cutting her from the scene.”

“So she won’t be in the movie?” Aunt Birdie asked. “At all?”

Harlow shook her head.

“Was her acting that bad?”

“It wasn’t good. She isn’t ready.” Despite not caring for the woman, Harlow empathized with her, having once been in her shoes and knowing the feeling of discouragement all too well.

It took time, experience and hours of practice to get the scenes down perfectly.

“Maybe someday, with a lot of work and practice, but she’s not there yet, not by a longshot. ”

“How did Robert react to his young starlet bombing?”

“He wasn’t happy. I’m not sure he knows that Jillian’s part was totally axed from the movie.” Harlow told them she was looking at a couple of other upcoming projects, but for now, her most pressing task was to relax. “Nigel’s colleague in California planned to serve Robert the papers today.”

“He’s expecting them?”

She nodded. “His cash cow is on her way out.”

“Without a solid replacement waiting in the wings,” Aunt Birdie said. “What will he do if he’s not making the big bucks?”

“He’s smart. Robert will figure it out.” Harlow stifled a yawn.

“Look at us yapping our jaws,” David said. “Why don’t you go take a nap? After you’re rested, we’ll take a nice long walk.”

“Sounds good.” Harlow thanked him for the snack and slipped inside. She stood in the doorway, savoring the moment and taking it all in. Vancouver, Malibu, Hollywood…were worlds away. This felt more like home than any other place she’d ever lived.

With the movie out of the way, at least for the most part, she was free to do what she wanted.

Robert wasn’t there making plans for every second of her time—special appearances and interviews, arranging lunch dates with bigwigs, working to secure the next deal.

To his credit, he had tried his hardest to guilt her into letting him schedule events, but Harlow had put her foot down.

She briefly wondered how Daniel Orlane was feeling today. Hopefully, the lecherous jerk realized it was no longer wise to paw at women, to touch her like he had in the bathroom the day they wrapped up the movie’s filming.

Harlow hadn’t heard a peep. Not from Orlane. Not from Robert. She’d spent a full day packing up, ready to leave Vancouver, along with doing a little sightseeing with her aunt and bestie. But no news wasn’t necessarily good news, at least not as far as Robert was concerned.

She quickly unpacked and dumped her dirty laundry in the bin. Emptying her backpack was next, followed by her sling bag, the bag she took everywhere. She plugged her phone into the charger, remembering she had set it on airplane mode.

Harlow turned it on and checked for messages. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed a missed call from Nigel. She promptly called the attorney back.

“Hello, Harlow.”

“Hi, Nigel.”

“Are you home?”

“Home as in back on Mackinac Island? Yes. My aunt, Eryn and I got here a short time ago.” Harlow told him she had been thinking about him, wondering if Robert was served with the divorce papers.

“He was.” Nigel cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, I have some concerning news. If you’re not sitting down, you might want to.”