Chapter 5 Hardworking Farmhand #2
Owen cupped the shoulders of Rex’s red-and-black plaid shirt, while Halle dug a travel pack of tissues out of her pocket. The kindergarten teacher in her wouldn’t let her go anywhere without them or her tube of lip balm, her travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer, and two or three Band-Aids.
When Rex stopped gagging, she handed him the tissues.
“Thanks.” He used one of them to wipe his mouth. “Man!” He straightened, his tanned features a few shades paler than usual. “For a few seconds there, I thought it was lights out for me.”
“What happened?” Owen squeezed the farmhand’s sturdy shoulder again before stepping back.
“I’m not sure. All I can tell you is that something disrupted the telemetry.” Rex gestured at the controls. “I’ve flown this thing dozens of times, and it’s never happened before. The screen went blank, and the guidance lines disappeared. I had to bring her down manually.”
“That’s awful,” Halle gasped. “I’m glad you’re alright.” She was also glad to learn that he hadn’t deliberately tried to ram the aircraft into her and Owen.
“I’m glad you guys are alright, too.” Though he’d never been one to stop and chitchat while working, he suddenly seemed unable to stop talking. “I was terrified I was going to mow you down back there.”
“So were we.” Owen dusted some of the dirt out of his hair. “I’ve never hit the ground so fast in all my life.”
“The good Lord must’ve decided it wasn’t our time.” Rex went into a more complicated explanation of the mechanical failure the plane had experienced.
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’ve been flown by anyone.
Halle made a 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 most veggie 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.
The wicked glint left his eyes. “There’s no dirt on you anywhere—not so much as a speck. Everyone in Heart Lake raves about how great you are with kids and chickens alike. Their only complaint is how long it took you to move back home.”
“You’ve been asking around about me, huh?” She wasn’t sure what to think about that.
“Not just you.” He dried the bowl she handed him and set it inside the upper cabinet. “Rex Turner, too. Mainly him. I only chatted about you to cover the fact that I’ve been interrogating everyone I run into about him.”
“Oh, really?” She pulled the stopper from the sink and let the soapy water drain.
“Really.” He hung the damp hand towel on the handle of the stove and ushered her toward the bar. “I found out some interesting things about him.”
She perched on the stool he pulled out for her and swiveled his way expectantly.
“In addition to his pilot’s license, lowly farmhand Rex has a degree in Aerospace Engineering,” he informed her.
“Before he applied for a job at Garrett Farm, he worked as a flight instructor at a coastal flight training school. Being the detail-oriented private investigator that I am, I placed a call to the school and spoke with one of his fellow flight instructors. A very talkative guy who might’ve been under the impression that I was calling for a job reference. ”
“Oh, wow! And…?” she prodded.
“Rex resigned from the flight school without an explanation, though the employee I spoke with thought it might have something to do with the woman who broke off their engagement.”
“Ouch!” Sympathy welled inside Halle. She could relate all too well to that brand of heartache.
“Sorry.” Owen grimaced. “I wasn’t trying to bring up a sore subject.”
She waved away his apology. He was just doing his job. “It sounds like Rex Turner is exactly what he appears to be—a hardworking farmhand.”
Owen nodded gravely. “He wouldn’t be the first person who traded in a demanding six-figure job for a quieter life. There’s no crime in that. Oh, and there’s something else.” He tapped a finger on the top of her hand for emphasis.
Her insides fluttered like a thousand butterflies in response to his touch.
He spoke in a dramatic stage whisper. “At one point, Rex took out his phone to check his messages, so I dialed the mysterious number you’ve been corresponding with for the past few months.”
“And…?” she said again, heart pounding with anticipation.
“And nothing.” He sat back on his stool. “Either Rex isn’t the guy who’s been impersonating Jensen, or he’s got another phone I didn’t see around.”
She was secretly glad Rex didn’t appear to be the imposter, since she was starting to like him. “If he’s not our guy, then we’re back to square one. Besides him and the Carters, who else would’ve been able to send me so many pictures of the chicken pens, coops, and garden?”
“I won’t stop digging until I can answer that.” Owen stood. “In the meantime, I’d like to drive you downtown to browse through another thrift store.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure you have better things to do.” She twisted the ring on her finger that Brooke had returned, afraid to get her hopes up again. They’d already visited most of the resale shops in town without any luck.
“Nope. I don’t,” he assured her cheerfully. “And I really need you to ride along since you’re the only one who can identify your stuff.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes at him. “But this is the last one.” She was ready to throw in the towel on their search for her family’s missing furnishings that had once filled the farmhouse.
The boys were initially disappointed about taking a break from their train building.
Ryder scowled. “Is that scary-looking dude coming with us?”