“Care to tell me why you’re in my yard?”
Their silence confirmed that they cared not to.
“Or why you felt it necessary to risk life and limb to leap into my woodbin?”
The boy lowered his head. Hiding a smirk? Randy narrowed his eyes. Well that would most definitively make him his father’s son.
“And you, Miss, would you like to offer me insight as to why you felt it necessary to crawl around my lawn on your knees like a dog? Or why the hell you don’t have boots on your feet, or a hat on your—”
It was their expressions that shut him down. They stared blankly, still silent, with tight lips, hands clasped behind their backs, and their legs spread like little soldiers waiting disciplinary action. The concept bothered Randy even more than the thought of Vaughn’s curling lip and derisive att
