Chapter 5
The entire O’Hara clan had gathered near the barn where Chewy, the enormous white dog, sat proudly with what was indeed a harmless garden snake writhing in his gentle mouth.
“Drop it,” Duncan commanded with absolutely no effect.
“Chewy, release,” Hank tried with similar results.
“This is ridiculous,” Raven said, but she was laughing. “It’s clearly not poisonous.”
“All snakes look the same to me,” Wyatt protested. “Dangerous.”
“You’re a cop,” Colt pointed out. “You’ve faced armed criminals.”
“Armed criminals don’t slither. Want me to shoot it?”
Dylan found herself laughing at the absurdity of it—five grown men defeated by one dog and a garden snake. Without thinking, she walked over to Chewy, knelt down, and said quietly, “That’s a good boy. Good hunter. Now give.”
To everyone’s amazement, Chewy immediately dropped the snake, which quickly disappeared into the tall grass.
“How did you do that?” Sophie asked.
“I have no idea,” Dylan admitted. “My dad used to say I had a way with animals. Though we never had pets, so I’m not sure what he based that on.”
“Maybe you’re the dog whisperer,” Harrison said solemnly. “Or the snake charmer!”
“Definitely the O’Hara charmer,” Sophie said under her breath, but loud enough for Dylan to hear.
“All right, crisis averted,” Anne announced. “Harrison, go wash your hands. Twice. With soap.”
As the family dispersed, Aidan touched Dylan’s elbow. “Want to see the barn? I have something to show you.”
She followed him into the cool shadows of the barn, expecting horses but finding cars—a collection of vehicles in various states of restoration, including what looked like a 1969 Dodge Charger up on blocks.
“Is that—?”
“Same year as yours, different color. I bought it six months ago, thinking I’d restore it.” He ran his hand along the dusty hood. “But I realized I don’t have your touch. It needs someone who understands not just the mechanics but the soul of the machine.”