Where was everything? It was as if someone had taken a giant eraser and rubbed every remaining trace of her former life here out of existence.
The sheriff beckoned her and Owen over to the butcher-block island in the kitchen, which she soon discovered was also empty. Most of the items her parents had owned weren’t worth much in terms of monetary value, but they held tremendous emotional value to her. The insides of the cabinets were empty, and the countertops no longerdisplayed her mother’s chicken-and-egg-themed dishes and figurines.
A mirroring emptiness settled in the pit of Halle’s stomach, leaving her feeling bruised and raw.
The sheriff promised to launch an investigation into the financial fraud she claimed was in play. “It might not hurt to get Lonestar Security involved, too,” he suggested in a low voice to Owen, “since you’ve got your life savings tied up in this place.” Then he bid them both a hasty goodbye.
After he left, Owen Tolliver propped his hands on his hips, studying her wearily. “We’re in this mess together, which is why I invited Pastor Joe to serve as our mediator.”
That answered one of her questions, since she’d been wondering why the minister was there at all. “I’m not sure that’ll be necessary. I think it’s clear that I’m the one holding the short end of the stick here.” For now. She would have to hire yet another attorney and go back to court to keep fighting for what was hers. Unfortunately, any further legal action on her part would have to wait until she received her next paycheck. At the moment, she couldn’t afford the retainer fee for an attorney.
“I’d like to hire you,” the new owner of Garrett Farm informed her quietly.
For what?Her lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. She was too busy yelping and jolting away from whatever had slammed into her foot.
“Boys?” Owen Tolliver barked out the question in an ominous voice.
Halle glanced down and discovered that a baseball was to blame for the radiating pain in her right big toe. Sensing his two redheaded sons were about to be in a heap of trouble, she instinctively flew to their defense. “I’m sureit was an accident.” She resisted the urge to dance around and squeal in discomfort.
Owen didn’t acknowledge her contribution to the conversation. “You know better than to throw balls in the house,” he continued sternly.
“Yes, sir,” his sons chorused, standing and facing him with their heads bowed contritely.
They were twins, she realized in amazement. How had she missed that before now? They were identical twin boys whom she had the sudden and inexplicable urge to comfort. Where was their mother? They looked so terrified that Halle wondered if they were about to get paddled.
She bit her lower lip and tried again to intervene on their behalf. Defending children was something she did on pure instinct. “Technically, the ball was rolled across the floor, not thrown, and er…I wasn’t injured. Just caught off guard. No harm done.” It was mostly true. Her toe was a tad sore, but that was all.
Owen swung his head in her direction, wearing an astonished look.
An apology flew to her lips. “I’m so sorry.” Mortification flooded her. “It wasn’t my place to say that.” He had every right to set whatever rules he saw fit and to discipline his sons for breaking them. As a schoolteacher, she knew better than to come between a parent and their children. She moved toward the front door, trying not to limp. She’d already outstayed her welcome. It was time to reach out to one of her high school friends and beg the use of their couch for the night.
“Nah, you’re right.” Owen Tolliver’s rumbly baritone slowed her exodus from the room. “I’ve never had a rule against rolling balls in the house,” his tone was deceptively calm, “though it was clearly implied.”
She glanced over her shoulder as the volume of his voice rose, making his sons wiggle uncomfortably. “Apologize to Miss Garrett. Both of you. She’s going to be your teacher when you start school this fall.”
Their words tumbled all over themselves in their haste to set things straight with her. However, she had no trouble understanding their garbled apologies. They were so adorable that her heart melted. “Apologies accepted, Ryder and Cooper.”
“Coop, ma’am,” the boy on the left mumbled. “That’s what everyone else calls me.”
As a gal who’d been raised to love chickens, she couldn’t have been more enthralled by his nickname. “Coop, as in chicken coop? I should’ve seen that coming,” she teased, “since your dad just finished purchasing a chicken farm.”
“Yep!” His eyes widened in delight. “Coop, as in chicken coop.” He curled his hands beneath his armpits and flapped them like wings, making bawk-bawk-bawk sounds.
His brother followed suit, and they dissolved into laughter.
Watching their childish antics lightened her heart a few degrees. “Just so we’re clear, your dad’s rules about throwing and rolling balls in the house are now in full effect. All such activities will take place outdoors from now on, you hear?”
Their bawk-bawking and arm flapping skittered into silence. “Yes, ma’am,” they mumbled, ducking their heads again.
Coop was the first one to peek at her. “Are you really going to be our teacher?”
She was taken aback by the amount of hope in his voice.
“If you’re starting kindergarten, I am.” She squatteddown in front of him as she spoke, shooting a glance at their father for confirmation.
“They sure are.” He nodded solemnly. “They’re going to need to be good at reading, writing, and math if they’re going to grow up to be proper chicken farmers.”
For the past several minutes, Pastor Joe had been watching the four of them patiently from his perch on the window seat in the living room. During the brief silence that followed Owen’s wish list concerning his sons’ education, the minister re-entered the conversation.
