“I pressed her pretty hard for a price,” he admitted, “butshe said to consider it a gift. I’m pretty sure that means the subject is closed.”
Halle had the nagging feeling that it wasn’t. Women like Brooke Aspen always had an agenda. For now, though, Halle was just glad to have her mother’s ring back.
“Thank you, Owen.” A simple thank you felt inadequate. No man had ever put himself out there for her like that. Immediately after hearing about the ring, he hopped into his truck and went to get it back.
He jammed a thumb toward the house. “Any interest in making a trip to the thrift store this evening to see what else of yours they might have on tap?”
“Very interested!” She had no money in her bank account, but maybe the store would extend her a line of credit or something.
Ryder and Cooperjabbered excitedly in the backseat of Owen’s extended-cab truck, pointing out all the cows and horses they saw.
Unfortunately, the trip to Timeless Trinkets was a bust. They found none of Halle’s family’s belongings there. The owner was very apologetic about it. He remembered selling Brooke the pearl ring, but that was all. “She found it in a pile of stuff I hadn’t finished pricing.” He didn’t even remember what he’d charged her for it.
Before they left the thrift store, Cooper found a vintage baseball bat. He begged his dad to buy it, but Owen shook his head at the price tag. “I’m sorry, son, but it’s not in the budget.”
To Halle’s amazement, that was the end of the matter. Alot of kids would’ve continued to whine and wheedle, but not Owen’s sons.
It was a much quieter drive back home. Halle finally broke the silence. “I think we should name the chickens.”
Ryder gave a grunt of amazement. “All of them?”
“As many as you want.” She smiled over the seat at him. “When I was your age, I used to name every single chicken. Granted, the flock at Garrett Farm has gotten a lot bigger since then. Maybe you could just pick out your favorite ones to name.”
“I’ve got one!” Owen sent her an approving look, probably appreciating that her idea wouldn’t cost him anything. “I think we should name that really big hen that eats all the time Mrs. Chonkers.”
His sons erupted into laughter. If they hadn’t been strapped inside their seatbelts, they would’ve fallen over.
Halle drank in Owen’s grinning profile. He loved being a dad, and it showed. The thought crossed her mind that he’d probably been an equally incredible husband while his wife was alive. Naturally, that line of thought led to wondering if he’d dated anyone since losing her. In the next moment, she wanted to shake herself silly for wondering. He was her employer, and she would soon be his sons’ schoolteacher—two very compelling reasons to keep things professional between them.
After retiring to the guest room for the night, she lay awake in bed, unable to fall asleep. She was still wearing her mother’s ring because she couldn’t quite bring herself to take it off. It felt like she’d gotten a piece of herself back. Smiling in the darkness, she twisted it around her finger, liking the warm, metallic feel of it.
Her cell phone jingled with an incoming call, nearlymaking her jump out of her skin. She hadn’t meant to leave the ringer on.
Diving for it, she accepted the call without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?” Her only thought was to make it stop ringing.
“Halle?” The man who spoke was the last person in the world she’d wanted to hear from, much less expected to hear from. “I was afraid you wouldn’t pick up.”
It was James House, her ex-fiancé.
She should’ve immediately hung up on him, but she froze. All she could do was grip the phone and listen.
Chapter 4: Don’t Let Her Go
Owen heard a door open and close somewhere in the house, followed by rapid footsteps and a strange dragging sound. He tensed in bed, quickly revising his assessment. It wasn’t a dragging sound, but a rolling sound—the kind a suitcase makes.
He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, yanking open the top drawer of his nightstand to remove his pistol from the lockbox he kept there. Then he stood and snatched his t-shirt off his bedpost, pulled it over his head, and jogged barefoot to the door of his bedroom. Twisting the handle to open it, he sprinted down the hallway toward the sound. It was coming from the living room. He paused in the doorway to flick on the light switch.
Light flooded the room, bathing a very disheveled, tear-stained Halle Garrett in its warm golden glow. Her feet shuffled to a halt. Though she spun his way, she remained standing in the middle of the room with a suitcase handle in each hand.
“Where are you going?” Owen stepped into the room, ata complete loss to explain what he was seeing. It was obvious she was leaving the house, but why?
She visibly wilted. “I’m so, so, so sorry!” Her voice was hushed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“That’s not what I asked.” If she was quitting her job as his sons’ nanny, she owed him an explanation. He’d welcomed her into his home, his life, and the lives of his boys. With the start date for his new job looming, her resignation would put him in a tough position.
Her shoulders slumped beneath her zip-up gray sweatshirt. “It’s not safe for me to be here anymore.” She had on matching gray sweatpants. Her hair was falling out of the hasty ponytail she’d twisted it into, and one of her sneakers was coming untied. It was clear she’d dressed in a hurry.
“Since when?” His voice crescendoed to a louder note than he intended. From where he stood, she was in no state of mind to venture outside alone. She was an emotional wreck, flat broke, and vulnerable.
