Page 42 of Easton Island: A Wedding to Remember

Chester held out his paw.

“You’re going to be the most adorable ring bearer ever.”

Morgan shaded her eyes as they ambled across the driveway. “I see the workers are prepping for the tents. I wouldn’t mind taking a sneak peek.”

Changing direction, the women circled around the side of the house, passing by the patio area and making their way along the marked path toward the spot where the trellis was being assembled.

Morgan slowed, trying to guesstimate how far Chester would have to walk to make it to the altar.

Mrs. Arnsby must’ve been thinking along the same lines. “You’re trying to figure out if he’ll stay focused long enough to make it to the altar.”

“I am. Since we’re here, let’s give it a trial run. You stay here with Chester.” Morgan hurried to the designated spot and shot her a thumbs up.

Mrs. Arnsby gave him a firm pat on the rear. Chester lowered his ears and gave her the side eye, as if to ask, “what was that for?”

“Go on, now,” she coaxed. “Morgan is calling you.”

“C’mon, Chester.”

Chester, with ears up and tail down, began making his way along what would be the aisle. A butterfly flitted past, capturing his attention. He veered off, dashing toward it at full speed while the butterfly fluttered away.

“Over here!” Morgan waved her hands. “This way!”

Abandoning the chase, Chester moseyed back to the center and continued toward her. He made it to within ten feet of Morgan when he decided it was time to rest and did just that…plopping down on the ground, giving her the “come and get me” look.

Mrs. Arnsby clicked her tongue. “I think you might have your work cut out for you. You could bribe him with treats.”

Morgan tapped her lower lip, watching as her pup rolled around in the grass. “Treats are always an option.”

“Tuck a few in your bra,” the cook joked.

“It might come down to that. One way or another, I’ll make sure Chester makes it to the altar.”

Chapter 17

Ting.Morgan grabbed her phone off the kitchen counter and tapped the screen. “Hey, Wyatt.”

“Hello, beautiful. I’m over in Easton Harbor. What’s going on at the gallery?”

“Edward Ryze found out Grandmother wasn’t going to fork over cash, so he decided to hire protesters. Are they picketing in front of the gallery?”

“No, but they’re pretty darn close.”

“Crud. I guess it was too much to hope they would go away. Ryze is going to make them hang around and earn their two hundred bucks.”

“I’ll give Grady a buzz and offer to back him up if needed.”

“Which probably isn’t a bad idea.” Morgan changed the subject. “On a brighter note, how is your day?”

“Same old, same old. Writing traffic tickets, rescuing cats from trees. I had an interesting call to Calvin Boothe’s house.”

“Calvin Boothe,” Morgan repeated. “Why does this name sound familiar?”

“He wrote an unflattering book about the Easton family,” Wyatt said.

“I remember him now. He has a no trespassing sign in his yard. Ariel’s mom told me he has a temper.”

“Someone trespassed. He called it in. Speaking of calls, I need a favor.”

---