Halle didn’t understand most of it.
The area was soon swarming with police and first responders. The paramedics examined Rex but could find nothing wrong with him. His coloring had returned to normal. Even his blood pressure was back in the normal range. They offered to transport him to the medical center for further testing and observation, but he flatly refused.
A full-point inspection of the aircraft revealed that it, too, was in tip-top shape, other than a few paint scratches. Rex drove it into the hangar, and Owen made him take the rest of the day off.
The video footage the security camera had captured of the circular black drone proved unhelpful. There were no symbols or other markings that identified its owner or manufacturer. Since a curve in the highway butted up against that edge of the property, a hobbyist could’ve easily stood on the shoulder of the road and flown the drone across the fence line.
In other words, it could’vebeen flown by anyone.
Halle madea tray of ham and turkey sandwiches for lunch and served them with a side of carrots and celery sticks. Ryder and Cooper entered the room on their hands and knees, noisily honking and hooting to announce the arrival of the train they were rolling between them. They’d spent the morning alternating between playing outside with the chickens and building an enormous set of train tracks indoors.
Owen stepped into the kitchen behind them, toweling off his damp hair. He’d insisted that Halle shower first while he monitored the construction of the train track taking over most of the living room. “How about you conductors pull your train into the station and join us for a bite to eat?”
They did as he asked and bobbed like Mexican jumping beans into their chairs at the table. After exchanging a grin with his brother, Cooper announced, “Conductor Coop, reporting for lunch!”
Ryder followed his lead, straightening in his chair. “Conductor Ryder, reporting for lunch!”
Halle set paper plates in front of them. Each plate contained half of a tall ham sandwich.
Cooper gave a gusty whistle of appreciation. “I can eat at least ten of these,” he bragged.
His twin snorted. “I bet I can eat twenty!”
Owen held out Halle’s chair for her. “Let’s start with one, and we’ll work our way through as many sandwiches as it takes to fill you up. Deal?”
“Deal,” they chorused.
He took his seat and said grace over their food.
Halle wasn’t surprised when the half-sandwich each twin consumed left them feeling full. To save face about their earlier claims, they dared each other to eat the mostveggie sticks. Ryder won with the lofty number of twelve carrot and celery sticks compared to Cooper’s ten.
They finally pushed away from the table, groaning from how full their bellies were.
Halle caught Owen’s eye. “They packed away more veggies than I thought they would. It feels like the adults won this round.”
“Agreed.” Whether he meant for it to happen, his fingers brushed hers while they were clearing the table. “It’s all your good cooking. The Tolliver men can’t get enough of it.”
Though she appreciated the compliment, she wasn’t sure she deserved that much credit. “It was only sandwiches.”
“Mile high ones,” he retorted in a contented voice, “with all the trimmings. The way you arranged the carrots and celery sticks around the Ranch dip to make them look like a turkey was genius.”
She smiled her thanks to him. “I saw it online and did my best to recreate it. Anything to make healthy eating fun for kids.”
He grabbed a hand towel to dry dishes while she washed the few they’d gotten dirty. “In case I haven’t told you yet, you’re amazing.” He turned around to lounge against the cabinet while he dried a plate, bringing them face-to-face.
She nearly dropped the glass bowl she was holding. “Boy, do I have you fooled!” She said the first thing that came to mind and hated that it was a boring cliché instead of a more clever comeback.
“Not even a little,” he retorted in a silky voice. “You think you do, but you don’t. Unfortunately for you, I’m very good at ferreting out secrets.”
“What secrets?” She flicked some dish soap bubbles at him.
He ducked away from the flying suds. “Like how you act all tough, but you’re actually one big marshmallow on the inside, and not just about kids. You’re like that about everyone you care for.”
She squirmed with embarrassment. “Liking people is a job requirement.”
“Nah, it’s more than that. I’ve done my homework, Miss Garrett,” he taunted, “and here’s what I’ve discovered about you.”
“Here it comes,” she intoned dryly.
