While Owen carried Halle to one of the awaiting police cruisers, she glimpsed James being loaded into the back of an ambulance. He was handcuffed to a stretcher with an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose.
Despite the horrific wrongs he’d done to her and her family, she was thankful he hadn’t perished at her hands. His death wasn’t something she wanted on her conscience. Knowing him the way she did, he would crumble pretty quickly while in custody, and his testimony would help keep his crooked family behind bars.
During the short drive to Town Square, Owen called his sister. “It’s over. Bring the boys. I have the woman in my arms they’ve been begging to see.”
After ending the call, he carried Halle up the sidewalk to Town Square. “Nice dress.”
“Don’t ask.” She rolled her eyes.
“I wasn’t going to…yet.” He winked at her. “Whatever the story is behind it, it’s still a nice dress.” He was wearing a black shirt tucked into black cargo pants—the standard Lonestar Security gear, complete with black combat boots.
He looked seriously hot. “My guy,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck again. She never wanted to let him go, but the arrival of an armored SUV changed her mind. When two red-headed boys erupted from the backseat, she couldn’t scramble down from Owen’s arms fast enough.
“Ryder! Coop!” She slid to her knees in the soft grass, holding her arms out to them.
“Mom!” They shouted her name, sprinting her way.
Jen followed them at a slower pace, her hand securely clasped in Rex’s.
The number of local citizens gathered at Town Square was truly mind-boggling. Photos of the deceased had been placed around the gazebo in the center of the square, creating a massive shrine. A mountain of flowers was scattered around the photographs. Dozens upon dozens of people were holding candles, keeping vigil. It was one of the most moving things Halle had ever seen.
At first, Ryder and Cooper’s happy shrieks were met with scolding looks and orders to shush, but the somber tone of the wake quickly changed.
“It’s them,” someone gasped.
“Ghosts,” someone else breathed.
“No, they’re alive,” another person corrected in a louder voice.
Sheriff Luke Hawling mounted the stairs of the gazebo, picked up a microphone, and shared the complete story. When he finished, there were few dry eyes in the audience.
People whipped out their checkbooks, and a rebuilding fund for Garrett Farm was born. Word spread around the square as quickly as tongues could wag, which was pretty rapid in their small town. More donations flooded in.
“Let’s go home.” Owen gathered his family close.
Halle’s smile wobbled, afraid there wasn’t anything left to go home to. “I’m not sure that’s possible, unless we want to spend the night in one of the chicken coops.”
The twins’ eyes glowed like candles. “Oh, can we, Dad? Can we? Please, please, pu-leeeeease?”
“As fun as that would be,” he mock-glared at them, “I’m more in favor of a sleepover at the spare cottage. The Carters are there now getting it ready for us.”
The boys liked the sound of a sleepover almost as much as the prospect of bunking in a chicken coop. They turned a few cartwheels to prove it.
Halle chuckled as she watched their antics. “How about a hotdog and s’more roast for dinner?” She would happily make-do in the cottage for as long as it took to rebuild. She just wanted to be home.
Epilogue
One year later
Halle cradled baby Harper against her shoulder as she stood on the newly sodded front yard. She gazed up at the two-story log cabin. Instead of rebuilding the old farmhouse at Garret Farm, she and Owen had sprung for a modular log cabin instead. It had been pre-built in large sections and set in place by a crane on the new foundation.
It was her dream home from top to bottom. No matter how long she stood there, she was unable to look her fill of the spacious bay windows and wrap-around porch. The oversized cabin was perched on a hill overlooking the newly constructed coops and chicken pens. One of the most exciting features of all was that it was finally finished!
Today was move-in day for their family of five. Owen had rented a small moving truck to transport the rather impressive number of belongings they’d accumulated during their year-long stay in Jen’scottage—bedroom furniture, dishes, a coffeemaker, a toaster oven, toy bins galore, a highchair, and too many other things to name. A delivery truck rumbled up the driveway and parked, leaving the motor idling as the uniformed driver swung to the ground. He conferred with Owen while his fellow delivery man rolled up the door to the back of the truck. Inside was their new set of living room furniture.
Her two-month-old daughter sucked her fingers and made hungry noises, which meant she’d be fussing to nurse again soon. It would make the unpacking and decorating more challenging, but not insurmountable, because Halle had plenty of help.
“Look, Mom!” Ryder staggered down the ramp of the moving truck and tottered toward the porch with three boxes, one piled haphazardly on top of the other. She couldn’t see his head. She knew it was him only because she recognized his voice.
