A House Full of Fortunes!. Judy Duarte

chorus of “got it”s and excited chatter filtered over the seat to him.

      Fifteen minutes later, as the anticipation built in the cab of the truck, Toby turned down the county road that led to their destination.

      Prior to the addition of Redmond-Fortune Air, the Horseback Hollow Airport hadn’t amounted to much more than a small control tower, a couple of modular buildings, one of which housed Lone Star Avionics, several hangars and a relatively small airstrip.

      But the brand-new building Sawyer and Laurel had built, with its gray block exterior, smoky glass windows and chrome trim, added some class to an otherwise small-town, nondescript airport that served both Horseback Hollow and nearby Vicker’s Corners.

      After parking next to Sawyer’s new black Cadillac Escalade, Toby led the kids up the walkway and through the double glass doors into the reception area.

      Angie, who was busy typing some letters at the reception desk, brightened when they came in. “Hey, look who’s here!”

      She greeted each child with a hug, but stopped short when she reached Toby. After all, what was required? Certainly not an embrace. And a handshake was much too formal.

      They both settled for a smile, which worked out just fine.

      “I heard you were coming.” She turned to a guy in green coveralls who was seated near a potted ficus tree and reading a newspaper. “Pete, is Sawyer still out back?”

      “Yep. He’ll be in shortly.” Pete lowered his newspaper and nodded at Toby. “How’s it goin’?”

      “Not bad.”

      Pete Nelson, a tall, lanky mechanic, worked for Lone Star Avionics and sometimes did side jobs for Sawyer and Laurel. Ever since Sawyer and Laurel opened up for business, the other employees at the airfield usually came over to use their break room, as well as the new fridge, microwave and coffeemaker.

      “Taking a break?” Toby asked the thirtysomething air-force vet, trying to keep the hint of jealousy from his voice. After all, if he worked at the airfield, he’d be taking breaks in the office when Angie was here, too.

      Hell, Toby didn’t even work at the airfield, and he was looking for reasons to stop by the sexy brunette’s places of employment.

      “Just having a quick cup of coffee,” Pete said. “Then it’s back to the hangar.”

      “Hey, Justin,” Brian said, as he wandered toward a table with a plastic-enclosed display of miniature-sized scale models of airplanes. “Look at this.”

      Kylie followed the boys, just as Sawyer entered the building.

      “Hey, Toby.” He extended his arm, and they shook hands. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived.”

      “No problem. We’ve been checking out the reception area.” And the receptionist, who’d just bent over to reach into the lowest drawer of the filing cabinet.

      Toby hadn’t noticed before, but Angie was wearing a short black skirt. Well, it hadn’t looked so short until she’d bent over and those long, tanned, shapely legs stretched out.

      Wow.

      Sawyer continued to talk, although Toby couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what he was saying. Still, he nodded as if he’d heard every word.

      When Kylie, who must have gotten bored looking at the miniature planes with her brothers, wandered over to Angie, Toby was about to call the little girl over to him and tell her that Angie was busy. But without missing a beat, Angie set her up at the desk with a stamp pad and paper, then went back to stooping and bending and flashing those long, shapely legs.

      “Aw, so that’s the way the wind is blowing,” Sawyer said, calling Toby out.

      “The wind?”

      Sawyer lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s not the airplanes you’re interested in. It’s Little Miss Google. I’d wondered why you wanted to know if she was working today.”

      Toby tore his gaze from Angie, ran his fingers through his closely cropped hair and focused on Sawyer. “What are you talking about? Who’s Little Miss Google?”

      “Evangeline Edwards, our part-time receptionist and jack-of-all-trades.”

      Toby never had been good at lying, so he zeroed in on the subject he’d rather discuss. “Why do you call her Little Miss Google?”

      “Because she’s a walking version of the website. If you want any information about anything at all, there’s a pretty good chance she knows it.”

      While Toby had never considered Angie to be dumb, she hadn’t struck him as being exceptionally knowledgeable, either.

      Had he missed something?

      “You don’t believe me? Watch this.” Sawyer called across the open reception room. “Hey, Angie, Captain Schroder called a few minutes ago. Laurel wasn’t around for me to ask, but he’s flying his client’s new Cessna Nav into Horseback Hollow. He wants to know how many feet per minute his descent should be.”

      Angie didn’t look up from her work. “If his true airspeed is 75 knots, which is standard for most Cessna Navs on approach, our headwind component here is usually 15 knots. That would make his ground speed 60 knots, which you’d multiply by five for a rate of descent of 300 feet per minute.”

      “Thanks. I’ll let him know.” Sawyer gave Toby a little jab with his elbow, then tilted his head and lifted a single eyebrow as if to ask, What’d I tell you?

      Toby had no way of knowing if what Angie had recited was true or not, but he figured it must be. Pete the mechanic hadn’t argued the point. Of course, he still had his nose in the newspaper.

      Moments later, Laurel Redmond Fortune came through the same back door Sawyer had entered. The lovely blonde greeted Toby with a hug, then gave her husband a kiss. “I’m going to grab a quick cup of coffee in the break room, then I’ll give you guys that tour we promised.”

      “Take your time,” Toby said.

      As Laurel left the room, Pete lowered the newspaper he’d been reading. “Did you guys know that Herb Walker got busted for drunk-and-disorderly conduct last night outside the Two Moon Saloon?”

      Sawyer gave Toby another little elbow jab, then said, “I wonder what kind of bail his wife will have to post for him.”

      “Normally, it would be twenty-five hundred dollars,” Angie said, “but seeing how today is Monday and Judge Hanson doesn’t approve of drinking on Sundays, drunk and disorderlies from the night before usually have to post four thousand.”

      Angie’s position on her knees, as she placed the last of the papers in the very back of the lowest drawer, gave Toby an excellent view of the rear end Doris Edwards had criticized days earlier. But Toby was so busy picking up his jaw off the floor that he was having trouble concentrating on those lovely curves.

      How did she know those random facts?

      When Sawyer and Pete started to laugh, Angie finally looked up and clued in to what was happening. “Were you guys doing that Google thing again?”

      “What’s a drunk and disorderly?” Kylie asked, reminding the adults that the kids were still hanging around.

      “It’s what Aunt Barbara got arrested for,” Brian answered, displaying knowledge beyond his age.

      The laughter suddenly ceased, and the adults sobered. Fortunately, Angie swooped in for the save. “Hey, Brian, Mr. Fortune said you could go sit in the cockpit of his brand-new Gulfstream. You can even touch every button and lever. And Mr. Nelson won’t mind a bit putting them all back into place after you guys mess with them to your heart’s content.”

      As a whoop went up from the kids, Angie cheekily smiled at her boss and the mechanic.

      About that time, Laurel